A is 9 lbs 5 oz as of his appointment today, so up over a pound from his birth weight and even more from his lowest weight. He’s right around the 50th percentile for weight and height and is growing on track.
The usual baby things – buddy, little guy — but my favourites are what M comes up with, including Little Pooper Guy.
We’re fairly certain this guy has had a cold his entire life, so he’s a bit grumpy. Once he woke up in his second week he just wants to be held and nurse, and if that isn’t happening he’ll quickly register his displeasure. But we usually get one or two quiet chunks of time during the day when he’s content to just look around and take in the world without screaming.
Do one month olds have skills?! He is adept at wiggling himself towards milk or what he thinks might give him milk. He’s also a pro at flinging himself backwards with all his might. Strength is his thing right now.
I miss sleep. Dude likes to nap all day and sleep in two hour increments at night. Yes, we are doing all the stuff we’re supposed to — noise and light during the day, quiet evenings, etc. but he’s doing his own thing right now and still has it backwards. That, and he vastly prefers sleeping next to me which I generally give into by the third wake up of the night because I am craving any sleep I can get. It’s survivable though, and I know it’ll turn around eventually so I’m just living through it for now.
ALL THE TIME. If he’s not sleeping he’s nursing or yelling for me to nurse him (hence the weight gain). He’s refluxy and gassy but in the realm of normal according to the doctor, so again — just living through it for now.
Second baby gets all the sleepers all the time. If we’re especially motivated he gets a little outfit but with all the diaper changes, sleepers are easy. He’s grown out of some of the smallest newborn sized things and is mostly in 0-3 month clothing now.
Being held, milk, being next to mom/on mom/attached to mom at all times, looking at bright lights when his eyes are open and he’s not hungry.
Diaper changes, baths, not having milk, not being held.
Things to Remember:
Relief at being home. M’s joy at being a big sister and all of her kisses and hugs. Lying in bed face to face and feeling so grateful that he’s here. Sweet warm squishy baby snuggles. The time Ashley decided to be proactive and change his diaper and then we heard screaming from the nursery (dude has aim). Christmas as a family of four.
Mom and Dad:
Tired. The second week was a doozy – now it’s more of a normal thing for me to be perpetually exhausted at least. I forgot how rough that transition is.
Looking forward to being able to make more couple time, because two kids is shaping up to be a divide and conquer thing right now, but survival mode is king for the time being. And, above all, glad that we are all here!
Looking Forward To:
Smiles! Sleep, maybe? Getting out and doing things if the weather ever warms up.
It’s amazing that you’re a real, live part of our family now, and that you’ve been with us for a month already. For a long time you were a dream, and then you were a fretted-over growing seed of hope, and now you are screaming a few rooms over while your sister tries to convince your dad that he can have his nails painted while he’s changing you. You’ve found a place in our chaos.
The way you were born — the ease, the calmness — to me it felt like you weren’t tangible for awhile. On your birthday I told your dad, over and over, “I can’t believe we had a baby. It feels like we didn’t have a baby.” Later that night I was alone with you for the first time, and I snuggled you up on my chest, leaned down and breathed in your baby smell and felt your warm body heaving as you breathed. You felt real, then. And a few days after we got home, I laid next to you on the big bed and looked at you — you opened your eyes and looked back at me, and you felt real then, too.
Most mornings you doze in and out of sleep beside me on the same bed. Sometimes I wake up and startle a bit — who am I and what am I doing?! But then I feel you next to me and remember that this is, indeed, real life. It’s exhausting and loud and boisterous, far more so than the first time we did this whole newborn thing, but you take it in stride. You’ve been kissed and squeezed and booped a million times already and you barely crack an eye open at it. As much as I’ve been questioning how you can possibly be real, all along, you’re a perfect fit.
I can’t wait to have more moments with you.