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The Baby Cometh

June 14, 2017

Since I call my daughter’s 9-year old The Kid I guess I’ll call the new one, The Baby.

The Baby arrived two weeks ago yesterday. They woke me up around 5am saying, “It’s time.” I was in charge of The Kid and we took our time getting up, eating and packing snacks before heading to the hospital. When we got there, they were still doing preliminary exams and stuff and Lori was feeling some intense contractions.

The Kid and I flitted in and out based on what Lori wanted. We hung out in the spacious, glass-walled waiting area overlooking the small mountain range that flanks Newberg. We found some puzzles on a bookshelf and started working on one.

After Lori had an epidural she was understandably more chill about having us around, so we got to visit a little longer.

I was surprised at how worried The Kid was about Lori. He actually said, “I hope she doesn’t die.” I tried to calm his fears but he’s pretty smart. He knows that women do die in childbirth sometimes. We talked about advances in medicine and all the technology in the hospital and the small probability of something bad happening. It seemed to help, but he’s a pretty high strung kid.

After the fourth or fifth puzzle, I called for and update and was told that she was pushing.

It seemed like a couple of  hours later that Lori’s husband finally came through the doors and beckoned us in.

On Lori’s chest lay the little creature, wrapped up in a blanket with elephants on it.

The Kid was relieved to see Lori alive and well. He gave her a big hug and examined his new little brother.

I took The Kid home for a break and took a nap then we went back for an extended visit. I took tons of pictures, later posting black and white versions on friend face. They were awesome. I’m just sayin’.

Lori and The Baby came home the next night. The first two nights were horrible. Lori was breast feeding and apparently her milk wasn’t “coming in,” and The Baby wasn’t getting enough nutrition. He cried all night and Lori and her husband got no sleep for two days straight. Lori was beside herself with sadness and confusion and I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do but comfort her.

On the third day she went to see her lactation consultant and got some advice and techniques involving pumping and things got better as The Baby got more nutrition. Finally her milk “came in,” and The Baby started sleeping more. When Lori gave up on the idea of 100% breast feeding, we started using bottles to deliver her pumped breast milk and things got a lot better.

Now, he’s up to 8 pounds (He was 7 and 9.5 oz at birth.) and he’s a big pa-tot.

We take turns feeding The Baby and when they let me, I take over as much as I can and they get to sleep.

Last night I stayed up with him until 5 am feeding him, holding him and sleeping next to him. It was amazing.

Lori is still struggling with hormones and postpartum bullshit, but there’s this adorable little monster with pretty eyes and funny faces and amazing changes every day to look at. So that helps.

 

As for me……well, that’s another blog. I might have some pretty whiney blogs coming.

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From → Rantings

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