You are now just about 9lbs and 21 inches long, and have aaaaalmost outgrown all of your preemie clothing and have triumphantly grown into most newborn sizes. Proportionately, your waist is tiny, and newborn pants sadly leave too huge of a gap to wear out in public, but with your fluffiest of cloth diapers (a sunny yellow Happy Heiny), we might be able to pull it off! Your eyelashes go on for miiiles now, and get darker and darker every day, gorgeously feathering your aqua moon-crater eyes.
This month you have begun “talking” up a storm. You are most vocal in the mid mornings when we coo and laugh and “oooooo” all over the place, your tiny pink circle of a mouth letting drool dribble to your chin and down your onesie. You respond to my questions with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, as though you are actually considering what I’ve just told you to be the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard, and usually jabber back at me “eeeeeoooooooaaaaa”. And it is the most lovely sound. Giggles are much more frequent than last month, especially when you are being changed, and we talk to the painted pictures of a hatching chick above your changing table.
You are phenomenal at eating now, and although it doesn’t seem that you are eating much more than you had been, you continue to gain weight, and so we know that all is well in that department. We are much more comfortable with breast feeding, and you fall asleep fairly quickly at our night time feeding, preferring to snuggle in close to mommy rather than a bottle, and slip into dreamland. You are excellent at sleeping through the night and last from 9pm-530am, and stay in our bed for the rest of the night for prime mommy and daddy snuggle time. I know that eventually I will have to start staying awake for your early morning feeding to place you back in your own bed, but for now, there is nothing sweeter than feeling your breath on my skin, and your hand tickling my belly.
This month you started holding toys, you aren’t very good at it, as you prefer to keep your little hands clenched tight, so we usually have to pry them open and slip the toy in….but a few times you have grabbed at things on your own. You are becoming more aware of your uncontrollable limbs, and you are humerous to watch. You have also begun to love being carried around with daddy in the Jeep carrier, looking out and taking in the sights. You are mesmerized by the TV and we have already begun to be careful with how much exposure you get. You also are allowing us to put you down for longer stretches of time, I think I got 45 minutes out of you today while I rearranged your dresser drawers! Every day, you cry less and less, and smile more and more.
We had our first night out without you, the fantastically fun family wedding of Mia and David. And you had a grand ol’ time with your Baba and Grand-pa-pa, and didn’t give them much trouble at all, besides all of the inquisitive mustache pulling. It was nice to be non-mommy and non-daddy for a night…although I must confess, when I asked your Daddy if he would call to check in on you, not even 2 hours after we’d left, he already had. It choked me up to see how on the ball he was, but then again, he always is when it’s about you.
Despite your widening smiles, our little family was saddened by two tragedies this month. We lost a dear, dear friend to your Grammy-mother, Marge DiTullio. Although you will never remember meeting her when you were only 8 weeks old, she sure adored you. Thankfully, you were still so tiny, and she was able to hold her though her body was weakened by her failing heart. She was larger than life, crass and opinionated, but diligently respectful and easily one of the funniest women I have ever known. She beat the odds, living far longer than I think many of us expected her to, and living life to the fullest right up to the end, sipping on her beloved bubbly orange soda. You will hear Auntie Sarah and Mommy speak of her often when you grow up, and of all of the funny things she used to say and do, because we will tell you of her life and her loves, and carry her Christmas traditions and family into our homes. She will be missed forever and ever.
A week after we lost Marge, you were admitted to the hospital for scaring the life out of me. While visiting your future BFFs, Kylie and Cailin (and Amy), you went gray and limp in my arms. We took you to the Pediatricians office, who had us admitted to the hospital to monitor you, and after one terrible night in the hospital, we were discharged with a “clean-ish” bill of health, and a prescription for anti-reflux medications. That one night in the hospital rocked your little world, and it took us nearly 3 weeks to fully recover and return to your previous eating and sleeping habits. Thankfully you haven’t had another episode like that one, but it certainly prompted us to buy a special monitor to help us all sleep a little better at night. Especially since my maternity leave has come to an end.
Although I am grateful and excited to go back to work and my friends and I am sad to leave your little body at night, I know that you are safe and thriving with your Daddy. So far, it hasn’t been easy on him, and I hope that the two of you can come to terms with me being gone and move on to your own special bedtime routine for the nights that I cannot be with you to nurse and snuggle.
And so I write this from work, monitors beeping in the background, and vital signs waiting to be taken. Although these babies will never be as important to me as you are, I have to go and feed their little bellies and keep them safe at night. So sleep tight, my sweet babe….Daddy’s got this one. “I gotta go!”
Despite your widening smiles, our little family was saddened by two tragedies this month. We lost a dear, dear friend to your Grammy-mother, Marge DiTullio. Although you will never remember meeting her when you were only 8 weeks old, she sure adored you. Thankfully, you were still so tiny, and she was able to hold her though her body was weakened by her failing heart. She was larger than life, crass and opinionated, but diligently respectful and easily one of the funniest women I have ever known. She beat the odds, living far longer than I think many of us expected her to, and living life to the fullest right up to the end, sipping on her beloved bubbly orange soda. You will hear Auntie Sarah and Mommy speak of her often when you grow up, and of all of the funny things she used to say and do, because we will tell you of her life and her loves, and carry her Christmas traditions and family into our homes. She will be missed forever and ever.
A week after we lost Marge, you were admitted to the hospital for scaring the life out of me. While visiting your future BFFs, Kylie and Cailin (and Amy), you went gray and limp in my arms. We took you to the Pediatricians office, who had us admitted to the hospital to monitor you, and after one terrible night in the hospital, we were discharged with a “clean-ish” bill of health, and a prescription for anti-reflux medications. That one night in the hospital rocked your little world, and it took us nearly 3 weeks to fully recover and return to your previous eating and sleeping habits. Thankfully you haven’t had another episode like that one, but it certainly prompted us to buy a special monitor to help us all sleep a little better at night. Especially since my maternity leave has come to an end.
Although I am grateful and excited to go back to work and my friends and I am sad to leave your little body at night, I know that you are safe and thriving with your Daddy. So far, it hasn’t been easy on him, and I hope that the two of you can come to terms with me being gone and move on to your own special bedtime routine for the nights that I cannot be with you to nurse and snuggle.
And so I write this from work, monitors beeping in the background, and vital signs waiting to be taken. Although these babies will never be as important to me as you are, I have to go and feed their little bellies and keep them safe at night. So sleep tight, my sweet babe….Daddy’s got this one. “I gotta go!”
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