You read sometimes about parents going into their kids' rooms at night, just to watch them breathe. It's a little different when your kid is in an isolette and the reason you're watching him breathe is so that every couple of minutes or so, when he decides to stop, you can wiggle his hands and feet or rub his belly to wake him up so that he remembers to start up again.
Charlie had something of a fit (as opposed to a snit) late yesterday afternoon while his vitals were being checked, and after five or ten minutes solid of yelling at the top of his tiny lungs, once he did settle down, he settled right down to complete inactivity, including the non-optional breathing part. As soon as anyone woke him up he breathed fine, but there was an uncertain path to tread between bugging him enough to keep him breathing, but not enough to to set off another snit.
He was kinda sick and cranky and hungry, so you can't blame him too much. And after a couple of hours — that would be 7000 individual seconds, more or less — and an IV hit of caffeine he got the breathing knack back and started resting comfortably. This morning he sucked down almost an ounce of milk straight from the bottle, mostly without opening his eyes, and digested it like a champ. So much more fun to watch than the other way.