What better time to post an "Emerson is 1 Month!" post, than immediately after posting an "Emerson is Born!" post! Even though I'm a few days late on this one too. *sigh* (Yes, I realize I need to step it up a notch and post more, especially since, sadly, there is officially never, ever a dull moment around here.)Unlike my pregnancy, which lasted approximately 21 months, the first month of Emerson's life has flown by. Had I known what kind of baby Emerson would be, I would have been much more relaxed during my pregnancy. Instead, I spent the majority (okay, all) of it in a state of anxiety and panic. I was dreading the lack of sleep, the endless crying, and the pump. Oh, that stupid pump. As it turns out, the only thing I have had any reason to dread is the stupid pump. I have honestly birthed the most awesome baby ever.
From day 1, Emerson has been a sleeper. For the first week and a half it was all that she did. She was up for maybe 2 hours a day. Even during the night I had to wake her up every 3-4 hours to eat. (You want painful? Try waking a sleeping baby up in the middle of the night. No one should have to endure that kind of torture.) I was counting the days until her 1 week appointment so that I could get the all clear from the doctor that she was gaining weight appropriately and I wouldn't have to wake her up anymore. I was THRILLED when the doctor said she had gained 4 ounces from her discharge weight of 6.5 pounds, putting her at a robust 6.9 pounds. The goal is to hit birth weight at 2 weeks, so we were only 2 ounces away from that, and we still had a full week left to achieve it! She was obviously on the right track, so that meant that I could stop waking her up and everyone could sleep, right? HA! Not so much. "Keep waking her up until her 2 week appointment!" the doctor chirped (yes, she seriously chirped). When I tried to argue, she told me that in addition to putting weight on her, waking her up would help to keep her from getting her days and nights confused. Seriously lady? This baby doesn't HAVE DAYS. It's permanently night in her world. But we sucked it up and did it anyway. Although I'd be lying if I said that the intervals didn't stretch from 3-4 hours to 5-6 hours. Accidentally, of course.
So where are we now? Week 5 and she's still sleeping through the night (knock on wood)! And when I say "sleeping through the night" I'm not talking about the stupid 5 hours that doctors define as "sleeping through the night". I'm talking 8-9 hours a night. Halle-freaking-lujah! Ever since she was 3 weeks old, she has been on her own little schedule. She goes to bed around 8:00, gets up around 4 or 4:30 to eat, and goes back down until about 9:30 or 10 in the morning. I. Love. This. Baby. Keep in mind that I'm a realist and I am not expecting this to last forever. But for now I'm not doing anything to mess it up either. That means that she is still swaddled with two receiving blankets and she's still in the pack and play in our bedroom, which while convenient, is not exactly how we want to spend the next 18 years. I'm not even drinking regular coffee or iced tea for fear that the caffeine will cause her to start sleeping less. I haven't had any caffeine (besides what is in my decaff coffee) since the morning before she was born.
As for crying, I didn't even have to worry about that for the first few weeks. On those rare occasions that she did decide to crack her eyes open, she just hung out and looked around. When she was hungry she'd grunt at me a few times, which she quickly trained me as my cue. It's only been since she's hit 4 weeks that she's actually started crying for real, and she still doesn't do it at night (she still just grunts to eat at night, which I'm sure is going to bite me in the ass once she becomes a teenager). When she did cry, you could be sure it was because she was hungry, tired, or had a dirty diaper. Then it happened. Kevin and I made what turned out to be the worst parenting fail we will probably ever make with her. (Right? Right???) We gave her.....cue the scary music.......a pacifier. That glorious little plug has turned out to be the bane of our existence. We did everything right and waited until she was 3 weeks old as the breastfeeding nazis recommend to ensure that breastfeeding was properly established. We could have even given her one earlier since she latched on perfectly from the first time she tried and has been a breastfeeding champion ever since. THANK GOD WE DIDN'T. She loves to suck on that pacifier. LOVES IT. She acts like it's Christmas morning every time you pop that thing in her mouth. She's decided that she wants it whenever she's awake, which in the last two weeks has jumped to the majority of the day with a 3-4ish hour nap thrown in sometime in the mid to early afternoon. Now this shouldn't bother me at all, right? She wants the paci, we pop it in her mouth, and she becomes the happiest baby on the block. Easy peasy, right? HA! It would be that easy if she didn't spit the freaking thing out every 8.7 seconds and proceed to FREAK the F out. And to be honest, FREAK would be an understatement. She acts like you just ripped it out of her mouth and threw it to the dragon living in the pool, never to be seen again. It's awful. So instead of popping the paci into her mouth and going about your day, you have to pop it back in, pop it back in, pop it back in.....I'm sure you get the picture. We seriously need to find a giant rubber band. Or some duct tape. (No, we wouldn't actually do either of those, but we are allowed to picture it over and over in our heads, right?)
2 WEEK STATS:
7 pounds, 2 ounces
19.9" long
14.2" melon circumference
Pacifier is much easier to break than sucking her thumb. At least you can throw away the paci when you are ready to break the habit.
ReplyDeleteShe is such a pretty baby. Miss you guys !!