Comparison

Graham at 13 w 2 d:Jake at 7 w 2 d:
The more things change, the more things stay exactly exactly the wonderfully same.

Hi, my name is TWO and I am EXHAUSTING

I should be writing more about Jake. I feel like we are falling square into the second child cliche, what with the extreme lack of pictures and video and whatnot. I hope that the cliche doesn't extend to our attention to him, and I don't think it does. But we have to be careful, because Graham is demanding a whole lot of attention these days, and it is hard (in both good and bad ways) not to give it to him.

This is clearly 1) because he has realized that Jakey is here to stay and that Jakey takes mommy time/attention directly away from Graham and 2) because he is almost TWO, and now has free will and the smarts to whip us into parental submission. Some things that have happened in the past few weeks:

1) That wicked smile of "I am doing exactly what I know you don't want me to do" appeared for the first time

2) I got whacked with a matchbox schoolbus in the head

3) He has started saying "Give Jakey to Daddy" whenever I am breastfeeding

4) And he told Joe to "go to Boston"

the last of which was extremely funny in that heartbreaking way. We always talked about the grandparents being in Boston, which I guess he now understands is not here, and so that's the best he could do when he wanted me all to himself. Send Daddy to Boston.

I don't ever want to portray Graham as a bad or tough kid. 95% of the time, he is still the sweetest, most generous little guy that any of us (and I am counting his daycare providers - they don't even pretend anymore that they don't love him best) have ever met. I know

this is all normal and appropriate and even good. And it's good for us as parents to think about discipline and what our firm rules are and how to be consistent with what we won't back down on. But zzzzzzOMG, it is tiring. I recently had this one morning when I felt like every word out of my mouth for an hour was "NO." And that's not fun for any of us.

But! Look! Jakey (and my mom)! (And he is now EIGHT pounds. Eight pounds! The big boy turns zero tomorrow.)

And here's my most favorite recent photo:

Home!

Jake came home last week, and wow, I forgot how both relaxing and exhausting a newborn can be. At one point, I found myself saying, hey, this just watching bad cable on the couch with a sleepy baby on my chest and eating Oreos all day (and sometimes raising the will to brush Oreo crumbs off the baby's head), yep, not so bad. Then I find myself up at 11 pm, 12:30 am, 3:45 am, 5:00 am, 7 am and my boobs are just going to FALL OFF MY BODY, and I say, oh, yeah, right. Damn those hormones that make you forget about this part so that a year from now you want to have another baby. You won't fool me again, hormones! That shop is CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.

I can't quite believe this, but I don't think we've taken any pictures of Jake since he got home. But this is the day he came home:

Dino suit, dino suit, everybody loves a dino suit!

Jake is in clothes! He's wearing adorable clothes, and is off his bright blue lights! I am excited! Can you tell! that I am excited?!?

Weight is up to 4 lb 11 oz, so we are creeping ever closer to birth weight. He's pooping regular old mustard yellow breastmilk poop, and if you are a parent and reading this, you know exactly what I mean. He hasn't has a residual in at least a day, and breastfed enough today that we only had to give him half of his meal via the NG tube. In short: things are going really, really well. Knock on all wood that you have in your immediate vicinity, please.

In other news, it is 10 days post-partum, and I am starting to fall apart. Hopefully this follows the pattern of last time and only lasts 48 hours. Poor Joe.

And lastly, for comparison (Grahambo in the dino suit at 13 days old):

My sweet, sweet, sweet boys. I am so very lucky.

Jakey, milk? Mommy, milk, Jakey? ALL DUN!

Graham has actually been doing really well with this new concept of a baby. Of course, I think it helps that the baby is not actually here. But he definitely has latched on to the routines that have sprung up this week - when he sees me pumping (and he stands waaay far back, because it clearly is some freaky stuff, there), it's "Mommy, milk, Jakey, breakfast." When Joe leaves for the hospital after bathtime, it's "Daddy, Jakey, home, soon." And while the tantrum-o-meter has been ratcheted up a notch, I am inclined to think that it is more being almost TWO ("one, two, FIVE") than it is due to his sense that things are not quite as they used to be or should be. Minus the world-ending trauma that is taking off his shoes at night, he is adjusting remarkably.

Jake update for today:

He is back up to about 4 lbs 10 oz (which is what Graham weighed at birth), which is not up by leaps and bounds, but we will take it. He's still pooping meconium (that black tarry newborn poop), and the fact that he is still doing that at a week old is a pretty good indication that his gut is not, how should we say, speedy. (Which is in turn likely the reason that he has been having some residuals [left-over milk in his stomach] at each feed. Or it could be that the fact that he hasn't fully passed the meconium that is making his digestive process slow. Chicken, egg.) Other than that, he really has no issues. Breathing well. No infections. Bilirubin levels coming down and hopefully off the lights again tomorrow.

Adults in the house update for today:

I think Joe and I have really hit our wall. We've been running on fumes and self-delusion for a few days now, and the realization that tomorrow is the WEEKEND, when there is no daycare, and absolutely no plan for who goes to the hospital when, or how the laundry gets done (I know, not the priority, except I have no more underwear, so, well, yes), or how to entertain Graham when good lord, all we both want to do is sleep, has been a hard one. Sleep, take a magical instantaneous transport to the hospital in our pj's, snuggle Jake for a bit, transportify back, sleep some more, get snuggled by Graham at his snuggliest, sleep. Maybe have a snack. That is all.

And introducing....cheese

Obviously, this blog, this outlet, has been kaput for a long time. For many reasons. But now, as evidenced by the fact that I am up at 4 am, and have been since 2 am, I have much on my mind that I think would be good to get out. It's like my compulsive list-making. It makes sense to me, that if I empty my brain onto a list, then I can forget about it. I can stop obsessing (and/or compulsing) about said item, because it is there, written down, and I can come back to it when I need to. I think this might be that, for now.

Which is an incredibly dour and introspective way to start off a post that says OMG! We had a baby!!! A beautiful, wonderful, healthy little boy named Jacob. He made it past his brother's gestational age by about a week and a half, and comes in swinging at 4 lbs 13 oz. He is in the NICU for now, but doing so so so so well.

It is just, this is hard. Did I actually think it wouldn't be? I guess in the whirlwind of emotions and tasks and events since my water broke, we decided that oh, this was so much easier the second time around. And hey, we're at home this time, and not living out of a suitcase! And we know what to expect! And pshaw, we know our way around a NICU. We know from feeds and residuals, from infiltrates and head ultrasounds. We know for sure that everything works out okay, that babies like this turn into boys like Graham, smart beyond words, happy, healthy, beautiful.

Except that, no. This is just as hard. This is just as emotionally draining, to go home without your baby. To not know him. To not be able to hold him, because he needs his time under those bright blue lights. To be so careful with his fragile little old man preemie body. To watch him tire so quickly. Even though he is one of the healthiest in his pod, even as we listen to the nurses tell us to "get ready!" for him to come home, even as we feel the sadness of the other parents in the pod with sicker babies who will still be there after Jake has come and gone. Even then, it is still so freaking hard.

But. BUT. He is here, and he is healthy, and lovely, and obviously already following the trend of babies in our family who are unlike their parents in that he is so calm, so mellow and sweet. And even though there is all this, we fall a little more in love every day.

Mommy and me

It is so rare that I am actually the one in front of the camera that I wanted to share these photos from last weekend. If nothing else, I think they are a fantastic series on 1) how much I love my child, and 2) how much he loves to eat my hair.