It's hard to believe, really, but I suspect I'm already forgetting things! The first month of parenthood was both the shortest and longest of my life. With Goran gone during the weekdays, everything blurs together into a miserable, sick, sleep deprived haze.
Basically, he cried. And cried and cried. And then stopped for the weekends when daddy was home, and then cried and cried, and cried some more. It got magically better around 5 weeks, but that first month saw me camped out on the couches of a lot of very understanding friends, breast feeding endlessly and bitching about my lack of sleep. He was up every 1 to 2 hours, wanting to eat and then be walked/rocked/bounced back to sleep. It hurt to sit, to stand and to walk, because of my stitches, so pretty much the entire first two weeks were anything from uncomfortable to agonizing. Then the sleep deprivation really kicked in, and I started to get sick. From breast infections to common colds, I pretty much spent weeks 3-7 continuously ill.
Anyway, the highlights (which come to mind at the moment) include:
The first visit from family!
Goran's family came to visit at the 2 week mark, the very same day that I woke up feeling distinctly Not Right, and found I was running a 39c degree/100f+ fever. The hospital pronounced it my first breast infection but they weren't willing to prescribe antibiotics. It was take Tylenol, wear cabbage in my bra (!) and nurse a lot. I did, and eventually it worked but man did I feel like shit. I call it a first, because, well, it was not my last breast infection.
I have to include another first of my own--my first sight of my engorged breasts. My milk came in and I woke up all "Holy shit, what are those Things on my chest, and how the hell am I going to fit them into any bra that I own?" Size E was not enough. Shudder. This was of course followed by...
Alexander's first car ride (other than when we brought him home the afternoon of the 15th, which I photographed, but have sort of blocked out, along with most other events from the early days which required sitting on my stitches), to the baby supply store, to buy a breast pump. 'Nuff said. But look how tiny he was!
His first visitors at home, other than at the hospital (Joakim, Maria and Felicia get that honor, meeting him the evening of the 14th), were Per and Kairi, the evening of the 15th. I think he ate and slumbered peacefully while they were over, which is mostly what he did those first few days.
First outing was to Hell Hunt, the pub across the street, on Friday. He came in the sling and slept the whole two hours.
He lost his yucky cord stump thing on the third or fourth day home, which meant we were clear to give him his first bath. Which went over like the proverbial lead balloon. Poor critter was not fond of being naked, nor of water, so the combo was just too much for him.
Note the rather alarming color he turned!
His first doctor's visit was 10 days after birth with Dr Raukas (his "baby vet" as a friend calls pediatricians), and she pronounced him perfectly healthy and gaining weight well. In fact she said he was gaining so well that I could stop nursing him every time he made a sound, and introduce a pacifier. We'd already done that, actually, to relieve my poor nipples, but it was good to have the doctor's okay.
On the topic of constant nursing, it was somewhere around then that Alexander's, um, joyful chomping, caused a large crack in my left nipple. He wanted to eat pretty much whenever he was awake. If he was awake and we didn't want him to scream, he had to be eating.
Which leads to another first: the first bottle! I'd say it was around week 2.5 or 3, when one night, my nipples burning and aching, my head swimming from lack of sleep and the sound of his constant screaming driving me to distraction, I spoon fed him several ounces of pumped milk. He took it, and the very next day I bought a bottle so Goran could feed him at night and give me an occasional break. Best Buy Ever! He prefers boob, and sometimes fusses about the bottle, and man oh man is he a messy eater, but I'm ever so glad to have the option available.
His first lunch out was at TGI Friday's and he slumbered peacefully in the sling the whole time.
I'll end this list of firsts with, sniff, his first time being sick. Around week three he got stuffy. Then he developed this horrible cough that made his whole body shake. By the time we were due for his one month checkup, it was so gross I could feel the phlegm rattle when he breathed. The baby vet gave us antibiotics and some cough syrup, and I dosed him daily with a syringe. He was not a fan, and made many horrified, offended faces.
He's with his girlfriend (I mean, babysitter) right now, and I'm going to take advantage of my last remaining free hour today to go attach bumpers to his crib, so we don't add baby's first head injury to the list of firsts. He will persist on inching headfirst into the wooden bars, despite my suggesting he stay put.
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