I Fell Asleep Before I Could Post This Last Night

... so forgive the reference to "today." This was written in snatches all through yesterday. I still haven't had the energy or time to write The Story.

And thank you everyone for your kind words and the cheers! They soothed my frustrated soul this past week before we brought him home.

And The Boy is a week old today... I hope that the road is much less rocky from here.

So here you go, yesterday's slated post, that was originally going to be titled "What's In a Name."

Zzzzzzzzz...

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All Friday night, he was fussy; I would have thought that The Boy would be happy to be home. I thought he wouldn’t miss being poked, prodded, undrugged, drugged, undrugged again, antibioticked, woken up unceremoniously bothered on the hour, changed, bothered in a myriad of ways by a constantly changing plethora of hospital folks, and having long stretches of not being with us. But no, we were up all night Friday night to this morning. And he started eating every hour and a half/two hours suddenly instead of the three/three and half he’d been doing. It’s amazing what being off of antibiotics does for him. He is STARVING, always. That will be a discussion with the ped on Monday because I can’t seem to get enough anything in him to sustain him for more than two hours, now that he has an appetite.

Now, on Saturday morning, he is in the bouncer DH’s parents got him, for which I am grateful. I had made the desperate request because both DH and I were shot, and it was a purchase that wouldn’t break their bank (what, about $40?). Otherwise, we had nowhere to put him when we ate other than his crib, because there was no way I was going to lay him on the couch where he would squirm his way around and fall to the tile floor. The downside of this whole thing was that DH refused to fend them off for another day, so they were here at five on the day The Boy came home and stayed for over three hours. I was very frustrated because it had been a very tough week, I had been at the hospital at six that morning (and weren’t released until 12:30p or so – very long morning), and I wasn’t in the mood to entertain. I was, and am, so drained from the experience that I almost had nothing left for The Boy’s tough first night home. Anyway…. the in-laws were here for a very long three and a half hours (and they'll be here with DH's sister tomorrow... oh joy). I was very tired by the time they left, and very tired of MIL pushing an old wives’ tale and her agenda for The Boy. The worst part was that MIL didn’t actually burp The Boy, so he wasn’t very fun in the wee small hours of Saturday morning. Grr…

The smartest thing I did on Friday evening was having my dad come over earlier than the in-laws and have first dibs on holding him. My dad has an aversion to MIL because of her antics and obnoxiousness, and I can’t say that I blame him. Anyway, he got here first, and held his fourth grandchild for the first time. My dad is such a sucker for babies and The Boy had the same effect on him as his older cousins.

Hard morning for The Boy today (Saturday), hard morning for me – part of it was that, suddenly, the formula they sent us home with no longer satiates him, part diaper issues, part adjusting to a new environment. Then we realized a little too late that with his tininess NONE of the clothes I’d hurriedly purchased (Size 0-3) fit him. He literally drowns in them with his little arms and little skinny legs, making it difficult to ensure his safety and comfort. Leaving him with DH, and dog tired with no chance for a nap, I went out at noon to go to the local Carter’s store, because they’re the only ones I know for certain that have Newborn sizes that fit him (The Boy is not yet six pounds; I hope he is by Monday’s ped appt).

On the day he came home, we had yet another tiff with the facilitator, another part I will add to the story of his first few days of life. I personally hope I never have to deal with her again, other than paying the remainder of her facilitation bill.

Not ten minutes ago (it’s about 7:30 on Saturday night as I’m finishing this), my oldest friend, T, came by to see The Boy. She has two sons herself and gave me some of the most useful information I can use yet.

You probably have noticed that nowhere in this entry have I given a name for The Boy, mostly because this is, after all, the Internet. But I have… you just have to look for it. Shhhhhh... it's a secret!

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Now, Sunday morning, I have The Boy in his bouncer. We switched from the premade mini-bottles of that enfamil nastiness to an organic powdered formula, and he's been quiet and snug for the last hour and a half. Hopefully this nixes that awful keening hungry wail because that nasty stuff wasn't knocking out his appetite. And he hasn't spit it up, a great sign.

DH thinks it should be illegal for any baby formula to have corn syrup in it. I agree. WTF?

OK, naptime for me!! Hang in there, I'll get that story posted yet.