Newsletter: Month One

Dear Ian, Today you turn one month old and it's been a wonderful 31 days so far. Today is actually one of many anniversaries you have. Two days ago was the anniversary of when I went into labor with you. And two days from now will be the anniversary of when we picked your name. This will all factor into what will become your Birthday Month in the coming years which I'm sure you will milk for all it's worth. Yes, I agree, we should all go out for ice cream in celebration of your Naming Day.

Despite what the baby books suggest, we've rarely spent a day at home since we finally got to take you out of the hospital. As our friend told us, you're at the "luggage" age where we can take you anywhere we need to in your little car seat bucket and not worry about you going anywhere. As I continue to heal from birthing you, though, we have tried to slow down a bit and stick to just one outing a day.

Everywhere we go, strangers talk about how beautiful you are and what a good baby you are. They also caution us to cherish every one of these days because they go by so fast. It's already amazing how much different you are today than the first day we met you. You open your eyes for much longer and can focus better on whoever is holding you. You smile more now and I can't wait until you actually smile and laugh in reaction to us. We'll do anything to make you smile.

You've had two big growth spurts this month and it's really the only time you've been fussy. But given how much your poor little arms and legs were stiffening from growing, I'd be fussy too if I were you. You've never fussed without reason though (IV in your ankle, your mother bonking your head on the bassinet, etc.).

These early days are unlike any other time of your life (or your mother's for that matter). You and I literally have no schedule and I've found life is pretty sweet that way. If I'm not in a hurry for you to finish nursing, then neither of us need to get frustrated and we just eat lunch at 1:30 instead of 1. You still only sleep for about three hours at a time and usually it's more like two at at time. But since we don't have anywhere to be it's not such an issue.

You and I did a great job of learning how to nurse, particularly given that we had to learn in a rolling office chair of the special care nursery on little to no sleep. All the nurses were very helpful with suggestions but the biggest thing we both had going for us was patience. I pumped my first two and a half ounces of milk for you today and it wasn't that bad. But nothing compares to nursing you, watching your long little fingers grab onto my shirt, hearing you grunt like you're working hard to feed yourself and asking if you're done only to have you look up at me and rally for a few more minutes of milk. I'm convinced "are you done?" are the first English words you understand.

Really your father and I feel like we're getting away with something and we don't want to jinx it. You've been just so happy and agreeable and sweet. All those well meaning strangers were right that nothing would prepare us for what this would be like, but thankfully we just weren't prepared for how completely awesome it is. If it gets better than this I just may pop.

Love, Mama