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Hi Friends,
In twenty five minutes we will celebrate our son's one week birthday. One week ago we were working hard to get him here, and in the time since, our life has acquired new and magical meaning.
The labor and delivery was incredible. We danced and sang and swayed and breathed and moaned our way through it. Eric was an indescribably superior labor support person. He should really do this for a living, although that would be weird. But he was seriously great at it. And it was wonderful to have my mom there through the whole thing. She beamed with pride. I was also very proud of myself. I was a woman with purpose, and the strength I could muster to
achieve it
surprised even me. I had a fabulous labor
playlist on the
ipod, and I would literally breath through a contraction and when it was finishing, go right back to singing along (in the earlier part of labor of course). Once, while walking, I held on to the little bars they have all along the walls for contracting women to hold onto, then when the contraction finished I did a little ballet dip and arm move. I was obviously still early in my labor - but what I'm saying is, we had fun.
Things got very intense after my water broke. And after a few intense contracting hours I thought we were there. I thought I was complete and felt the urge to push. But when I was checked and was only just over halfway done, I called for the epidural. Good decision. It was all they said it would be.
And then came the pushing, which at first I handled very well. But then I got totally drained and could barely keep breathing between them . I was on the oxygen and would just stare into space trying to stay alive. It felt like my eyes would burst right out of my head with every push. Then came the
whimpering phase. I started begging. But I could muster only the tiniest mouse whisper, and through the oxygen mask, only Eric could hear me. I just needed help. At one point I asked someone to get a spoon and just get him out. I'm glad the used the vacuum instead of a spoon, but I was never more happy to see a suction cup in my life. I knew with a little help I could do it, but I knew without it I could not. And out he came.
That is the moment my life changed. They laid this warm wet being on my belly, and that was it. It was the single most cosmic and nuclear moment of my life. We were connected, mom and son, familiar and knowing. He cried for only a moment, enough to let the doctors know he was okay, and then we locked in. Our eyes locked and I engulfed him in my arms and we were one. I knew him and he knew me, and his gaze was full of love. I can't explain how remarkable a moment it was, but I will never be the same.
I know he's only a week old, but he's already so much himself. He's sweet and smart and aware and kind. I'm so proud to know his little 8 lb. self. And, I know you've seen the pictures so it need not be said, but he is remarkably stunningly beautiful. And charming. And he smells like love and warm
biscuits with honey.
I wish you all were here to see the Dad Eric. It's awesome. He's never really been a baby guy - but he is completely
ga-
ga smitten over his son. He simply can't get enough (the feeling is mutual). He coos and talks sweetly and goes wild over every little facial expression (or twitch). For example, right now he's wearing the
boppy with Eli on it sleeping and he keeps calling me over to see the faces he's making. He's taken 92 pictures of him since they've been sitting together there, even though Eli hasn't moved. I simply adore this Eric. Eli is such a lucky son.
I know it's been two days since we posted, so here's an update:
~Yesterday he had his 1 week check up at his pediatrician's office (we have a pediatrician's office - wow). He did great. He had already gained back 1/2 his birth weight, which apparently is rare, since feeding can be
troublesome in the beginning. But they say this is excellent. He's a feeding champion, mostly due to the fact that my mom, the lactation consultant, has been here to coach us on good breast feeding. We now are pros. Everything else checked out great at his Dr.'s appointment. He is in excellent health, thankfully.
~He had his first blow out diaper today (oh the things that become milestones...). I heard him rumbling in the car on the way home from lunch. We discovered when we got home that he had shot poo out of both sides of his diaper and all over his
polka dot fleece (his favorite outfit. He's so advanced, he has preferences for crying out loud). It was impressive.
~My mom leaves tomorrow. I'm very sad and frankly a little nervous about this. I know at some point we have to be on our own, but having her around has been a godsend.
So, in short, he's awesome. He's all warmth and love and wiggle, and we can't get enough of him. Sure, we don't sleep, and sure, it's a tough transition, but oh my, the love is just so big that we will never find the end of it - not that we're trying.
Here are some pics since you've all been so patient for these last two days:
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Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy.
Posted by the Mama.