the adventure that was Zoe's MRI...

I already told you about the amazing results. Every day Zoe surprises us with one more things she has learned to do, and it's refreshing to operate with no expectations or worries about development.

(By that, I mean that we don't analyze "should she be sitting up by now?" or "is she falling behind?" We know our girl has some brain damage, and that frees us to just let her do her own thing developmentally without superimposing our concerns onto her abilities. It's a relief as a mom, in so many ways.)

On the day of the MRI, we were blessed to just leave for the hospital, because one of our old neighbors came and stayed the night at the house so that she could care for the big kids in the morning. (And then she stayed until about 5pm or so to help me throughout the day. We might have good neighbors at our new place, but we sadly left the best neighbors ever in the old 'hood.)

We arrived, following the signs to P3.

I made Lee slow to almost a complete stop so I could take a picture of this sign, because it made me chuckle.

And it's a darn good thing I did, because as I snapped the picture, we heard a loud clunk.

You can't see it in the picture, but that clearance bar was swinging (this, after we backed out of the deck). The picture is blurry because I was laughing.

FYI, the P3 parking deck is not tall enough to accommodate Suburbans, and we think the parking attendant's humor for the day is watching big vehicles try to drive in, given that he had the chance to stop us but didn't..

After we parked elsewhere, the rest of the check-in procedure was easy peasy. Our girl - not showing signs of hunger at all, thank you Jesus - hung out with Daddy and checked out her reflection in the glass.

Oh, how I love watching him fall deeper and deeper in love with her. See that smile on his face?

Then again, who wouldn't love that face? She's a cutie.

And she knows it.

In the spirit of Jocelyn, who loves giving Zoe bunny ears in pictures, Daddy got in touch with his immature side.

"Mommy, can you ask Daddy to act like a grown-up?"

I checked her in and placed the medical bracelet on her little ankle.

And, yep, she was still in a good mood!

Even when Daddy accidentally banged her head into this picture as she was fascinated by her reflection.

Meanwhile, I assumed this sign wasn't directed at me. I think having your baby girl sedated grants you photography approval.

We sat in the same waiting room where we had been when Robbie had his MRI, and then we were escorted back to the same pre-procedure room with nautical murals.

Robbie had been fascinated by the oxygen light on his toe prior to his MRI, so I had to take the picture of Zoe's! She didn't really care about it, though.

She did, however, like her hospital gown and want to play with it instead of wearing it.

But the murals were enough to distract her long enough for Daddy to dress her.

I love seeing her smile up at him.

While it looks like she's yawning here, she's actually laughing in anticipation of Daddy's tickling.

Gotta keep her modest by tying the back closed!

I think her hunger was hitting her at this point, but it was time for her to get sedated - first by mask, then by IV. (She takes after me - a genetic thing, of course - in having terrible veins, because it took seven sticks in her hands and feet before they placed the IV. Made me thankful she was already sedated before that began and I was in the waiting room instead of watching them use her as a pin cushion.)

Speaking of the little mask, here it is! We were brought back just before she woke up.

The rules require a baby to drink a few ounces of a clear liquid like Pedialyte before going home.

This is what she thinks of Pedialyte.

So they broke the rules and just let us feed her formula, even though it would make everything yuckier if she threw up due to the anesthesia. (By the way, according to the nurse, Zoe got the same sort of drugs that killed Michael Jackson. Of course, not in the same doses or reckless manner, the nurse made sure to add.)

As we left, Zoe was supposed to be in the stroller we were told to bring with us. But when a sleepy baby girl is cuddled up to Daddy, they let that rule slide too.

And then we might have pretended that Jubala was on the way home from the hospital - it isn't - because Mama needed her beloved iced almond latte to go.

The end.