Are you officially a parent when you've typed your first one-handed blog entry? Little boy is asleep on my chest, and he's having a tough day so I don't want to move him just yet. I'm not sure if it's the thrush we have, some dairy I ate, or if he's just "waking up" a little more, but he's been pretty cranky lately.
After almost a week of nightly cranking, he finally returned to his sweet self. But last night, when his Gramps and his Aunt Deborah were watching him, he gave them a very hard time. Hopefully tonight goes better!
We had his one-month checkup yesterday. He weighs 11 pounds, 13 ounces and is 23 1/4 inches tall. Can you really describe an infant as "tall"? Maybe "long" works better. Anyway, he's still huge. He's 90th percentile for weight, 95th for height, and 90th for head-circumfrence. Doctor says that his size at this point is no indication of his future size, but that after four months they can start to tell us how big or small he'll be as a grown-up. Fingers crossed that the football scholarship is still a possibility! Otherwise he'd better be a genius, because I can't even imagine what college will cost when he's ready to go.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Thursday, October 6, 2005
Monthly Newsletter, Month One
In the spirit of dooce (who isn't nearly as good as mimi smartypants, but who has a neat idea of writing to her child each month):
Dear Nate,
I am writing this the day before you turn one month old. You are asleep in your crib, and I’m watching you on the baby monitor.
In years to come, there will be so many details that will have slipped from my memory about the little things you’ve done and experienced. By writing to you each month, I hope to hold on to as much as I can. Being your Mom is the best thing I’ve ever done, and I want to remember it all.
You were born on September 7, 2005 at 8:17 a.m. I will always remember them bringing you around the side of the curtain, holding you upright – you were chubby and huge and beautiful. Your father stayed with me until I was feeling better, and then went outside to tell Grandma Jill, Grandpa, and Aunt Deborah that you were perfect and healthy. He told them how much you weighed (10 pounds, 6 ½ ounces) which made everyone gasp. He told them what we were naming you, which we had kept a secret: Nathaniel Henry Davis.
We gave you your Dad’s last name, and your middle name is after my grandpa Herbert. I love my grandpa, but Herbert wasn’t a name we loved. Nathaniel we picked because it sounded strong and lasting, without being too heavy for a little boy. If you had been a girl, we were considering Grace, Julia, and Charlotte. We spent a lot of time talking about your name, Nate; it was picked with great love and care.
After your Dad told my family the news, he called and told all of the members of his family. Everyone was on the phone calling relatives with the news of your arrival. I was in the recovery room, watching the nurse give you your first bath. Your Dad came back in, and they gave you to us. Your Dad took photos, including one with the doctor who delivered you.
After deciding we were all healthy, they wheeled me up to the room where we’d spend the rest of our stay. I held you in my arms the whole time. When we got to the room, Grandma, Grandpa, and Deborah were there. Grandma told me later that she didn’t expect you to be with me – she thought they’d bring you up separately. She got a jolt of surprise and excitement when she saw you in my arms. I bet she still remembers that.
We spent five days in the hospital, because I was a little sick. The nurses all cooed about how big and beautiful you were. You slept in the room with Dad and me each night, but they took you to the nursery each morning for a check-up. When I walked down one time, it was easy to pick you out of all of the babies – you were the biggest one by far. The first day you were born, you were able to pick your head right off of my shoulder – no one could believe it. Grandma Jill, Grandpa, and Aunt Deborah spent a lot of time in the hospital visiting us. Everyone wanted to be around you as much as they could.
It was very special to me that my grandma, Jean, could visit us in the hospital. I know it was very important to her to be there, and she couldn't take her eyes off of you.
When we finally brought you home, Grandma Jill came to stay at our house for two weeks to help out. Dad had to go right back to work, and it was wonderful to have Grandma here to help me. She took care of the house, doing laundry and cooking and cleaning, so that I could just take care of you. We spent a very nice two weeks together, and I fell in love with you then. So did Grandma.
You have very long periods of alertness, sometimes three or four hours. When you’re being held on someone’s shoulder, your big eyes peer out behind. You have navy blue eyes, and I’m hoping they stay that color.
You are a very calm, easy baby. In the last three or four days, you’ve started having cranky periods in the evening, but even your cranky periods are manageable. You love to stare at the windows, at lights, and at certain paintings on the wall – I think you like the contrast between the light walls and the dark painting.
We started having Dad give you a bottle in the evenings, and you’re doing okay with them. You don’t love them, but you’ll drink them. This frees me up to go out without you! Last night, Dad and I had a date and Aunt Deborah came and stayed with you. It was hard leaving you for the first time, but we all made it through okay.
The only main exception to your calmness and easiness is when I’m “messing” with you, especially when I’m changing your diaper. You scream and scream and scream. But the minute it’s over, and I lift you onto my shoulder, you stop screaming immediately. When you got your first vaccination at the doctor, you screamed for a few seconds until Grandma Jill put you on her shoulder - you stopped screaming so suddenly that we couldn’t stop laughing. You are unbelievably easy to soothe.
You love to sleep in my arms. I try to be strict and make you sleep in your bassinet, and mostly you do, but sometimes I can’t resist holding you and cuddling you while you sleep. You are doing very well with your sleep at night – you often only wake a few times a night for a feed, and then go right back to sleep. It’s really wonderful for both of us!
You love to stretch. Someone told me recently that newborns don't stretch, but they are 100% mistaken. From the day you were born, you spent at least 30 seconds stretching after a nap. It continues to this day. I wonder what attributes can be genetic, because your Mama loves to stretch and loves to nap.
When you’re alert, I spend a lot of time singing to you. We sing “Corey’s Coming” by Harry Chapin, “Blackbird” by The Beatles, and whatever else I have in my head from listening to the radio. When I cook dinner, I put you in your bouncy seat in the kitchen and sing along with the radio. I’m hoping you develop a love of music that we can share, but I guess that’s really your call.
Everyone said that things would be different once I had a child. That I’d be different. Ever the skeptic, I didn’t believe them. I thought it only happened to other people. But I am different for having you, and it’s all in a good way. You’re the best thing I’ve ever looked at. I love you, Nate. You’re my good boy, and I’m so glad that I get to be your Mom. I can’t wait to share the next years with you.
Love,
Mama
Dear Nate,
I am writing this the day before you turn one month old. You are asleep in your crib, and I’m watching you on the baby monitor.
In years to come, there will be so many details that will have slipped from my memory about the little things you’ve done and experienced. By writing to you each month, I hope to hold on to as much as I can. Being your Mom is the best thing I’ve ever done, and I want to remember it all.
You were born on September 7, 2005 at 8:17 a.m. I will always remember them bringing you around the side of the curtain, holding you upright – you were chubby and huge and beautiful. Your father stayed with me until I was feeling better, and then went outside to tell Grandma Jill, Grandpa, and Aunt Deborah that you were perfect and healthy. He told them how much you weighed (10 pounds, 6 ½ ounces) which made everyone gasp. He told them what we were naming you, which we had kept a secret: Nathaniel Henry Davis.
We gave you your Dad’s last name, and your middle name is after my grandpa Herbert. I love my grandpa, but Herbert wasn’t a name we loved. Nathaniel we picked because it sounded strong and lasting, without being too heavy for a little boy. If you had been a girl, we were considering Grace, Julia, and Charlotte. We spent a lot of time talking about your name, Nate; it was picked with great love and care.
After your Dad told my family the news, he called and told all of the members of his family. Everyone was on the phone calling relatives with the news of your arrival. I was in the recovery room, watching the nurse give you your first bath. Your Dad came back in, and they gave you to us. Your Dad took photos, including one with the doctor who delivered you.
After deciding we were all healthy, they wheeled me up to the room where we’d spend the rest of our stay. I held you in my arms the whole time. When we got to the room, Grandma, Grandpa, and Deborah were there. Grandma told me later that she didn’t expect you to be with me – she thought they’d bring you up separately. She got a jolt of surprise and excitement when she saw you in my arms. I bet she still remembers that.
We spent five days in the hospital, because I was a little sick. The nurses all cooed about how big and beautiful you were. You slept in the room with Dad and me each night, but they took you to the nursery each morning for a check-up. When I walked down one time, it was easy to pick you out of all of the babies – you were the biggest one by far. The first day you were born, you were able to pick your head right off of my shoulder – no one could believe it. Grandma Jill, Grandpa, and Aunt Deborah spent a lot of time in the hospital visiting us. Everyone wanted to be around you as much as they could.
It was very special to me that my grandma, Jean, could visit us in the hospital. I know it was very important to her to be there, and she couldn't take her eyes off of you.
When we finally brought you home, Grandma Jill came to stay at our house for two weeks to help out. Dad had to go right back to work, and it was wonderful to have Grandma here to help me. She took care of the house, doing laundry and cooking and cleaning, so that I could just take care of you. We spent a very nice two weeks together, and I fell in love with you then. So did Grandma.
You have very long periods of alertness, sometimes three or four hours. When you’re being held on someone’s shoulder, your big eyes peer out behind. You have navy blue eyes, and I’m hoping they stay that color.
You are a very calm, easy baby. In the last three or four days, you’ve started having cranky periods in the evening, but even your cranky periods are manageable. You love to stare at the windows, at lights, and at certain paintings on the wall – I think you like the contrast between the light walls and the dark painting.
We started having Dad give you a bottle in the evenings, and you’re doing okay with them. You don’t love them, but you’ll drink them. This frees me up to go out without you! Last night, Dad and I had a date and Aunt Deborah came and stayed with you. It was hard leaving you for the first time, but we all made it through okay.
The only main exception to your calmness and easiness is when I’m “messing” with you, especially when I’m changing your diaper. You scream and scream and scream. But the minute it’s over, and I lift you onto my shoulder, you stop screaming immediately. When you got your first vaccination at the doctor, you screamed for a few seconds until Grandma Jill put you on her shoulder - you stopped screaming so suddenly that we couldn’t stop laughing. You are unbelievably easy to soothe.
You love to sleep in my arms. I try to be strict and make you sleep in your bassinet, and mostly you do, but sometimes I can’t resist holding you and cuddling you while you sleep. You are doing very well with your sleep at night – you often only wake a few times a night for a feed, and then go right back to sleep. It’s really wonderful for both of us!
You love to stretch. Someone told me recently that newborns don't stretch, but they are 100% mistaken. From the day you were born, you spent at least 30 seconds stretching after a nap. It continues to this day. I wonder what attributes can be genetic, because your Mama loves to stretch and loves to nap.
When you’re alert, I spend a lot of time singing to you. We sing “Corey’s Coming” by Harry Chapin, “Blackbird” by The Beatles, and whatever else I have in my head from listening to the radio. When I cook dinner, I put you in your bouncy seat in the kitchen and sing along with the radio. I’m hoping you develop a love of music that we can share, but I guess that’s really your call.
Everyone said that things would be different once I had a child. That I’d be different. Ever the skeptic, I didn’t believe them. I thought it only happened to other people. But I am different for having you, and it’s all in a good way. You’re the best thing I’ve ever looked at. I love you, Nate. You’re my good boy, and I’m so glad that I get to be your Mom. I can’t wait to share the next years with you.
Love,
Mama
Saturday, October 1, 2005
Just admit it.
Nate just drained 3 ounces from a bottle his Daddy gave him. What a relief to know that I can leave him here with his Dad, or a sitter, and he won't scream or starve!
Could this kid be better?
He's so beautiful it hurts a little to look at him.
Could this kid be better?
He's so beautiful it hurts a little to look at him.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Really seriously.
Guess who slept from 9:30 pm to 3:30 am last night? Yep, Nate. Of course, Nate's Mama wasn't smart enough to go to bed at 9:30, so she didn't get that 6 straight hours. But still, the potential is there.
He also has these incredibly long periods of wakefulness; 3 or 4 hours at least. Isn't this crazy? It's great that he's so advanced, and has such alertness, but I just don't know what to do with an inert baby for 4 hours. I sing to him, and then I'm really out of material. Should I start the algebra now?
He had his first tub bath tonight, and liked it much better than the sponge baths he's been getting up to this point. Very serene and contemplative.
So far, the infant massage has been a bit of a bust. He doesn't seem to hate it, but he doesn't seem to like it either. I guess it's a little hard to tell what he feels at 3 weeks, but I don't get a sense that he's feeling very zen and peaceful about the whole thing. It's more of a "what the heck?" kind of emotion I get from him, and I can't say that I blame him. I'm going to keep up with it, though - I think he'll really like it as he gets older. Plus, it's fun to watch him pee on me every time I get him naked.
The cloth diapering is going very well. We're still experimenting with different covers to find the best fit, but I'm pleased with things. Every time I put a dirty one into the laundry bag, I feel good about not dumping another diaper into the trash. There's something very homey, too, about a stack of freshly washed diapers just waiting to be used. It's been a couple of days without any disposables getting used now. I still love the disposables for trips out of the house, and will definitly continue to use them - the cloth diapers are just too bulky to carry around extras for a trip to Mom's, or a weekend away.
There's a lot of talk on cloth-diapering websites about getting stains out of the diapers. I've only been a Mom for 3 weeks now, but I'm clearly missing something. They're diapers. Who cares if they're stained? Are we trying to fool someone into thinking they haven't been pooped on countless times? Will he be giving a speech, in his diapers, that I'm not aware of?
My health is back to normal. The infections in the c-section are gone, and I only have one day of antibiotics left. I've gone for nice long walks the last four days, and feel like I have my old endurance back. Of course, my old endurance was pretty lame, but at least I haven't lost ground!
Well, alert-baby needs attention. Maybe Geometry tonight!
He also has these incredibly long periods of wakefulness; 3 or 4 hours at least. Isn't this crazy? It's great that he's so advanced, and has such alertness, but I just don't know what to do with an inert baby for 4 hours. I sing to him, and then I'm really out of material. Should I start the algebra now?
He had his first tub bath tonight, and liked it much better than the sponge baths he's been getting up to this point. Very serene and contemplative.
So far, the infant massage has been a bit of a bust. He doesn't seem to hate it, but he doesn't seem to like it either. I guess it's a little hard to tell what he feels at 3 weeks, but I don't get a sense that he's feeling very zen and peaceful about the whole thing. It's more of a "what the heck?" kind of emotion I get from him, and I can't say that I blame him. I'm going to keep up with it, though - I think he'll really like it as he gets older. Plus, it's fun to watch him pee on me every time I get him naked.
The cloth diapering is going very well. We're still experimenting with different covers to find the best fit, but I'm pleased with things. Every time I put a dirty one into the laundry bag, I feel good about not dumping another diaper into the trash. There's something very homey, too, about a stack of freshly washed diapers just waiting to be used. It's been a couple of days without any disposables getting used now. I still love the disposables for trips out of the house, and will definitly continue to use them - the cloth diapers are just too bulky to carry around extras for a trip to Mom's, or a weekend away.
There's a lot of talk on cloth-diapering websites about getting stains out of the diapers. I've only been a Mom for 3 weeks now, but I'm clearly missing something. They're diapers. Who cares if they're stained? Are we trying to fool someone into thinking they haven't been pooped on countless times? Will he be giving a speech, in his diapers, that I'm not aware of?
My health is back to normal. The infections in the c-section are gone, and I only have one day of antibiotics left. I've gone for nice long walks the last four days, and feel like I have my old endurance back. Of course, my old endurance was pretty lame, but at least I haven't lost ground!
Well, alert-baby needs attention. Maybe Geometry tonight!
Monday, September 26, 2005
Seriously.
I know that other Moms probably think their baby is the best baby ever. But they're seriously wrong. And when I think mine is the best baby ever? I'm totally right.
And when the other Moms think "I'm sure that it's cliche to think that my baby is the best, but they really are!" they're wrong about that too. But when I think that? I'm totally right.
Nate slept from midnight to 4:30, had a feed and back down to sleep. Another little feed at 5:15, and slept through until 8:30.
See? Told you so.
And when the other Moms think "I'm sure that it's cliche to think that my baby is the best, but they really are!" they're wrong about that too. But when I think that? I'm totally right.
Nate slept from midnight to 4:30, had a feed and back down to sleep. Another little feed at 5:15, and slept through until 8:30.
See? Told you so.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Our birth story
Nate made his big entrance on September 7, 2005 at 8:17 a.m. Here's our story.
We checked into the hospital, as scheduled, at 5:45 a.m. on September 7th to start the check-in process. Stewart spent the morning very patiently handling my anxiety, and making good jokes, and charming me and the nurses as expected. I spent the morning going slowly from completely calm to total basket case, as expected. Many questions, tests, pokes, and prods later, we were ready to go.
They wheeled me into a very ancient-looking operating room. The anestiologist explained that I'd be getting a spinal injection, instead of an epidural, since I wasn't going through labor. The process of numbing the site was tough, but the big needle stick was pretty painless. The nurses were really busy taking care of things around the room, and didn't really notice my heightening anxiety. The anestesologist took pity on me and gave me a little something in the IV, and within seconds I felt like myself again.
They brought Stewart in, and he was perfect. He held my hand, and stayed with me physically and emotionally the whole time. As freaked out as I got, he stayed steady and supportive; he made a fairly terrible experience bearable.
Since I hadn't gone into any sort of labor, Nate was still very high up. When the incision was made, a nurse had to stand next to me and push hard, for at least a minute, on my chest to try to move him down. They pulled him out, and I could feel him going, but I didn't hear him crying. He ended up having a low initial Apgar of 5, but they eventually got him going. As Dr. Levitt pulled him out, he said "I think this was one of the best decisions of my career." The nurses all started talking about how big he was, but we didn't know his weight just yet.
Stewart happened to look up just as they were about to cut the cord off of him, and said "Weren't we going to do the Viacord (cord blood donation)?" The entire room got silent. Stewart and a nurse went running out of the room to get the kit, and I was sure that they were going to refuse to do it since the kit wasn't sterile, or some problem like that. But they ran back in, and it looks like that was done successfully. I truly can't believe it worked out; I didn't even remember about it in all of the chaos. Stewart looked up at just the right moment, remembered about it, intruded on the scene, and totally saved the day.
At some point, they weighed him and announced it to the room: 10 pounds, 6 1/2 ounces. Sometime around then, the pediatrician brought him around the side of the screen, holding him upright, and I saw his beautiful face for the first time.
It took them a while to close up the incision, and my anxiety started back again. The anestesologist told me that she was going to send me to sleep and I forcibly protested. She did it anyway, and it was the best decision of the day.
I woke up in the post-op room, and they were bathing Nathaniel nearby. The nurse held him up for me to see. I felt so good, having the surgery over with, that I was okay to wait for her to be done to hold him. They eventually brought him to us, and Stewart went out and told everyone we were okay, and his weight, and his NAME! According to reports, there was much gasping and rejoicing.
That's the story of Nathaniel Henry's entrance into this world. I'll write about the two weeks since as soon as I catch some sleep.
We checked into the hospital, as scheduled, at 5:45 a.m. on September 7th to start the check-in process. Stewart spent the morning very patiently handling my anxiety, and making good jokes, and charming me and the nurses as expected. I spent the morning going slowly from completely calm to total basket case, as expected. Many questions, tests, pokes, and prods later, we were ready to go.
They wheeled me into a very ancient-looking operating room. The anestiologist explained that I'd be getting a spinal injection, instead of an epidural, since I wasn't going through labor. The process of numbing the site was tough, but the big needle stick was pretty painless. The nurses were really busy taking care of things around the room, and didn't really notice my heightening anxiety. The anestesologist took pity on me and gave me a little something in the IV, and within seconds I felt like myself again.
They brought Stewart in, and he was perfect. He held my hand, and stayed with me physically and emotionally the whole time. As freaked out as I got, he stayed steady and supportive; he made a fairly terrible experience bearable.
Since I hadn't gone into any sort of labor, Nate was still very high up. When the incision was made, a nurse had to stand next to me and push hard, for at least a minute, on my chest to try to move him down. They pulled him out, and I could feel him going, but I didn't hear him crying. He ended up having a low initial Apgar of 5, but they eventually got him going. As Dr. Levitt pulled him out, he said "I think this was one of the best decisions of my career." The nurses all started talking about how big he was, but we didn't know his weight just yet.
Stewart happened to look up just as they were about to cut the cord off of him, and said "Weren't we going to do the Viacord (cord blood donation)?" The entire room got silent. Stewart and a nurse went running out of the room to get the kit, and I was sure that they were going to refuse to do it since the kit wasn't sterile, or some problem like that. But they ran back in, and it looks like that was done successfully. I truly can't believe it worked out; I didn't even remember about it in all of the chaos. Stewart looked up at just the right moment, remembered about it, intruded on the scene, and totally saved the day.
At some point, they weighed him and announced it to the room: 10 pounds, 6 1/2 ounces. Sometime around then, the pediatrician brought him around the side of the screen, holding him upright, and I saw his beautiful face for the first time.
It took them a while to close up the incision, and my anxiety started back again. The anestesologist told me that she was going to send me to sleep and I forcibly protested. She did it anyway, and it was the best decision of the day.
I woke up in the post-op room, and they were bathing Nathaniel nearby. The nurse held him up for me to see. I felt so good, having the surgery over with, that I was okay to wait for her to be done to hold him. They eventually brought him to us, and Stewart went out and told everyone we were okay, and his weight, and his NAME! According to reports, there was much gasping and rejoicing.
That's the story of Nathaniel Henry's entrance into this world. I'll write about the two weeks since as soon as I catch some sleep.
Nursery
Some belated photos of the nursery. I'm really proud of what we made out of such a small room!
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