Three Weeks Old

While I used to be counting weeks of pregnancy, I'm now counting weeks of Tim's life. Today he is three weeks old. It seems like he's been here longer, but at the same time I'm equally shocked that he's already three weeks.

He is changing so much. He looks like a different baby than the one I brought home. And boy does he have a personality. He loves to be held up high and look around. I don't think he focuses on much, but he already has good use of his head...he loves to be rocked and bounced around. While he still frustrates easily if he can't latch to eat - he then pushes the breast away but roots like crazy for it.

His hands are his greatest comfort. He always has them in his face. He sleeps with them right up to his cheeks, he eats with them under his chin (which doesn't make breastfeeding the most comfortable). And what an eater! We went to the lactation consultant yesterday because Timothy has a tendency to never burp but will spit up with a force that is beyond a little dribble. And he has some bad gas pains, where his face scrunches right up. The lactation specialist weighed him and he is quite the eater and a chunker. He has gained 2 pounds in a little over 2 weeks. She said not to worry about the burping and that at only 3 weeks old he will learn to not guzzle like a frat boy and that will ease his gas pains.

Here he is at 3 weeks old. Legs and arms scrunched up. What a cutie. I adore him.

Aftermath & Welcome

Hello world,

The husband and I welcomed a son on January 5th, 2012 at 10:17pm. Timothy Blair was born tipping the scales at 7lbs, 2oz. His middle name is after my Dad - who is an important person in my life, so I was happy to share the namesake with my firstborn.

I ended up having to be induced, and once the medication was flowing, labour came quite quickly from what I've heard from the doctors. Having never given birth, I couldn't tell you, but the reaction of the nurses and on-call doctor was that it moved very quickly. From the breaking of my water to Timothy entering into the world we had just over 3 hours.

It was quite terrifying for us. During labour Timothy had a strong heartbeat and everything seemed to be going well (aside from my epidural wearing off!) And then, as he started to crown, the doctor called for the Respiratory Therapist to be paged to come to our delivery room. Our little guy had his umbilical cord wrapped not once, but twice around his neck and had inhaled meconium. When the little tugboat emerged there was no sound, no cry - no shriek that all mothers hope to hear. He had no vital signs. The RT came in and there was a hush in the back of the room as 6 people tended to my baby.

Nothing was scarier, it was terrifying.

I was a wreck. Timothy was whisked away to the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and I was left on the hospital bed to be take care of by the nurses and doctor. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. My husband was able to go back and forth to the NICU to see how he was doing, but I was helpless as I lay there waiting for news and praying for a positive outcome.

By the grace of God and a fantastic staff and a wonderful RT who pumped oxygen to Timothy for over an hour, our little guy yelped out a pathetic scream saying 'what the heck'. I wasn't there, but I can imagine it was the greatest sound in the world. He spent the first night in the NICU and was closely monitored by the nurses there. 4 hours later I still hadn't held him or seen him.

Finally I was able to see my son. And he was perfect.

I am so thankful every day for this little guy. He is the most yummy, adorable baby ever. And he already has a personality. He frustrates easily if he can't latch for his feeding, but once he's on, he gulps like a champ. He loves to be held and snuggle and I'm pretty sure adores his Daddy. And his Dad and I couldn't be happier.

We are that more complete.

Welcome to the world my son.

Change of Mind.....

Hello little Stringbean,

You know how  three days ago I said that we'd patiently wait for you to come when you're good and ready.

I lied!

Hurry up and get your little wrinkled, chubby self here.

I will be heading to the doctor's tomorrow and we will most likely be discussing induction dates. Apparently, it came to light through a friend, that while an induction date can be "picked", the hospital calls you that day to give you the go-ahead. So it's really just a wish-date - if the labour and delivery department is too swamped with emergencies or pregnant ladies, they will call you another day.

That only means one thing. More waiting.

We are almost at 41 weeks. 41 long weeks.

I'm told the docs won't let us go longer than 10 days late...and tomorrow makes lucky number 6. So we should be able to say with certainty that we will meet you in 4 days.

Which means one thing, more waiting.

You Dummy!

Or, things not to say to a Mommy-to-be when baby is four days late.

- Think about all the extra weight he's gaining!

- Come on... haven't the first forty weeks had some high points?

- Maybe it means he'll be early for stuff down the road!

- What's a few more days when it's been nine months?

I could keep going, but it's probably best to say as little as possible when baby is late... and getting later by the hour. And I can't say that I blame her; I can't imagine how forty weeks have really felt, so I can only guess that 40+ is becoming even more uncomfortable and tiring.

Son, if you're listening, we'd *really* love to meet you... any time now would be good! :)

Love,

Dad