I guess we should just address right off the bat that everything in your life will probably be late. I am constantly running about 10 steps behind these days. Is this second child syndrome? Sure. We’ll call it that. But I am still doing it, which proves that it’s not a lack of love, it’s just a lack of organization,hours in the day, and ability to sit down and organize my thoughts in the 30 minutes of “free time” you give me every 6 hours or so.
It is hard to believe that it has already been a month since you showed up and rocked our worlds. You spent your first couple days creating lots of drama in the hospital. We had issues with your bilirubin and despite our interventions, your numbers kept going up which meant our interventions kept going up. You wound up spending 24 hours wrapped in a bili blanket and then 24 hours with a bili blanket/bili light combo. My hormones were a little out of control at that point so I may have reacted a little dramatically when the doctors gave us this news. There were lots of tears and my heart broke repeatedly for you, but you took it like a champ. You kicked up your feet and lay under those lights like it’s what you were born to do. And then, by that second day, your numbers went down and they let us go. I was so proud of you. You basically came into this world kicking butt.
It’s a good thing too, because about two weeks later you came down with your first cold. Your big brother is pretty much constantly sick and he had croup the weekend we brought you home so we figured your days were numbered. We’re going on two weeks with this cold now and it has turned into a terrible cough that physically pains us to listen to. The doctor says there’s nothing we can do though, keep you hydrated, shoot saline up your nostrils, steam up the bathroom and hang out in there singing Christmas carols. Pray that God cuts you a break soon.
Speaking of your big brother – he wasn’t so sure what to think of you at first. We think he thought you belonged to your Aunt Sara. The second time he came to visit us in the hospital, he came clomping in and his first words were “WHERE’S SARA?” as if he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t taking care of her baby and why I had to stay there to pick up her slack. I think he’s figuring out that you’re not going anywhere now. I think he actually loves you very much. He calls you “my baby” and you’re the first thing he runs to when he comes home from daycare every day. He likes to pet your head and “nuggle” you. He also likes to poke your eyeballs and stick his fingers up your nose, but we try to limit his opportunities to engage in those activities. You’re too young to really “get” him yet, but you know when he comes home. The atmosphere in the house shifts and you get quieter, more alert, as you tune into his voice and the energy he brings with him. This is going to be a fun relationship to watch form and grow.
You are a sweet baby. I don’t know if you’re easier than your brother is (aside from the drama and the illness) or if we were still just in “baby” mode so you’re not as much of a shock to our system as he was at first, but I feel like I have more energy this time around. I definitely have more patience and am enjoying this maternity leave more. It’s still hard. It’s still a 24 hour job and sometimes I still find myself hissing at you to please just give me five minutes to eat this sandwich – but I’m less afraid to put you down so I CAN eat that sandwich. Also – coffee. This time around I have embraced the need for coffee and it is doing wonders for my coping skills.
You are snuggly and warm and like a narcotic to my soul. I can hardly hold you without slipping into a dream/sleep state. I will hold you up to my chest, gaze into your eyes and wake 3 hours later to find that we both apparently passed out without meaning to. You may be starving and dirty, and I am definitely starving and dirty, but there we are, curled up together in a warm, snuggly embrace like it’s the only sustenance we ever needed. Maybe it is. It seems to be working for us. You’re growing like a weed and I? I am keeping my cool SO MUCH BETTER this time. J
Welcome to our crazy, loud, messy, loving lives Addy Rose. I hope you will love it here. We already love you so so much. You filled a hole that we didn’t even know was there, and now our family is complete. We can’t wait to learn and grow with you, to watch you become the amazing and wonderful person you’re destined to be. We’re here to help and love and hold you up – and to never let you forget that. Here’s to a great new adventure.
Love and kisses all over,