One Month

Our happy, storm-born baby girl is one month old today.

:record scratch:

Say, what?!

It is incredibly hard to process that Tempest Felicity is 4 weeks - one whole month! - old and yet, that's the truth.  What everyone says is also true: those first weeks fly by, even when it feels like the darkest hours before the dawn stretch on into infinity when she won't sleep and won't settle for any amount of time.  But then, the sun rises and a new day begins.  We've made it without any major incidents and have grown immeasurably closer as a family unit.  As of this week, we've managed to get into a nighttime routine that means all of us are sleeping from roughly 10:00 PM - 2:00 AM which is a major accomplishment.  Tess is breastfeeding on demand which means as often as every hour or whenever she isn't napping.  This is a huge leap for her and though it is an adjustment to measure out the day in feedings, it is sobering to know that I am solely responsible for nourishing her and that she is thriving and doing it in synch with my body.  Realizations don't get more humbling or more amazing than that.   

I have been remiss in writing my daily observations over the past four weeks and I'll hardly be able to make up for it now, though I will provide some highlights of the things we've learned about our daughter that make us laugh/smile/tear up.  I still owe her that letter I meant to write before her birth and I will get to it.  One of these days.

Observations (in no particular order)

1. Even the most willowy, rosy infant, she of delicate feature and sweet disposition, can, in fact, sound like Tyrannosaurus Tess when she's ravenous.  We call her Tessadactyl, Raptor Baby, Dino Girl, Rabid Rooter, etc.  The sounds that come out of this child's mouth when she's desperate for anything nearby that resembles a boob are the funniest things I've ever heard from an infant.  Sometimes she grunts, sometimes she growls, sometimes she bellows - yes, tiny T bellows like an old man - and then magically, once the nipple grazes her lips, she's as content as can be and will suck that teat dry. 

2. Che bella!  Those eyes!  Slate grey and almond-shaped, they melt me every time I gaze at her cherubic face.  It's like flying too close to the sun.  She's positively magnetic and though I know probably every mother says this/feels this (even if - sorry - it ain't so) this child is mesmerizing.  There's nothing static about her.  She's in constant motion, whether it's climbing my shoulder, grabbing Oscar's nose, looking around the room, conducting an invisible symphony with her spindly arms, or kicking like a mermaid on her floor mat during tummy time, Tess is our dynamic daughter.  Each day brings new discoveries and new possibilities.  Whoever said all babies do is eat, sleep, and poop?  Well, they're wrong.  There is an incredible range of activity and nuance and no two days are the same. 

3.  Yes, exhaustion is inevitable and it does seem to get worse before it gets better but then...it gets better.  All it takes is one good night trying one thing a little differently (thanks, Mom - no, seriously -- you were right) and then a switch is thrown: Eureka!  Everything looks a little brighter and much more manageable with a solid 4 hours of sleep. 

4.  Each week will bring subtle and monumental leaps.  Those first few days, it feels inconceivable that she will ever be bigger than the squirmy peanut you can comfortably hold in the crook of your arm but then she eats, and eats, and eats and grows accordingly.  Though she lost nearly a pound in the first five days after birth, she now weighs well over 8 lbs (though the official weigh-in will come on Friday) and her cheeks are soft and full.  The sharper preterm features are rounding out.  She is finally developing thigh rolls and her fingers are plumping nicely.  In short, she now looks like a healthy full-term baby.  Her caterpillar-to-butterfly transformation is remarkable.  Even her fontanelle has receded as her head circumference has grown and her tiny eyebrows are gaining color and definition, as are her lushes lashes.  She's even got a downy mullet thing going on as her hair continues to grow in the back, if not the front.  The micro-changes are noticeable to me, the person who spends the most time looking at her precious face, as well as to her grandparents who see her once or twice a week.  It's reassuring to know she's picking up speed on the growth track and not looking back but it's a bit bittersweet.  I had to pack away her 5-8 lb Gerber onesies today.  They are too short and getting tight across her belly.    I found myself getting misty-eyed.  Soon, her footed sleepers are going to be too small and I will pack them away for posterity, along with her hospital kimonos and going-home outfit.  She's growing up before our very eyes. 

5.  Oscar is the best big brother ever.  The. Best.  We got off to a slow start with him giving us an extremely wide berth when he arrived home from camp the day after we left the hospital.  This was not the reaction either of us expected but the more we read about pet behavior and newborns, we realized this was his show of respect and concession of his former place in the family hierarchy.  He refused to acknowledge Tess the first two days and barely made eye contact with us.  He had to mourn his previous baby of the family status and make room in his heart to accept a new sibling.  As for me, he gave me a few licks of greeting, rolled around on the floor, and then practically hid from me!  I think the hormones were too much for him, plus he probably remembered the antiseptic smell of hospital from last summer.  Then, slowly, as we normalized behavior with the baby by including him in cuddle time and feedings, he came around.  He started sniffing her feet, then her diaper, then began licking her head and checking on her.  Now, the two of them are inseparable.  If I put Tess in her crib to use the bathroom or take a shower and she makes the slightest peep, Oscar is the first to let me know.  He comes trotting in, door-be-damned, and looks at me like, "um, hello?  are you going to do something about that noise or should I?"  He protects her.  He lies next to the crib, watching, until I get dressed.  If she's in the bassinet, he stretches out directly beneath as if he's going to rock her to sleep.

There is so much more to write - so many musings both Rhett and I have noted during those golden weeks of paternity leave and nesting - but there's too much to put to paper.  It happens so quickly and there's no catching up.  Thoughts wash over us and then just like that, something new happens and they're gone.  I do know that being a SAHM (stay at home mom) to a sweet potato and a fluffy muffin means my day is much fuller than I ever anticipated.  It's nice to settle into a groove now that it's the three of us during the day and when papa comes home at night, the family squeezes onto the little red couch (with Oscar still taking up approximately 1/3, as usual) and all is right with the world.