We've been home for two full days now, and things are going really well. I don't know why I'm all surprised--I guess I thought the transition would be more difficult or something.
Of course, it helps that Joe's home all week, and the fact that I delivered on a Friday tacked on two whole days to his paternity leave. This has been awesome. As predicted, he's taking to this whole fatherhood thing like a regular Bill Cosby. (Or a regular Paul Reiser, whichever you prefer.)
Not that there haven't been some glitches along the way. After noticing that Cal was glowing a rather bright orange, we've been back and forth to the Pediatrician's office these past few days to get his bilis checked. As of yesterday, they were still rising, but still in the low-risk category. We're hoping that the blood today will show at least a plateau, if not a drop. It's killing me that our kid needs so many needle sticks.
Oh, all this wasted insight after my Peds residency. I've become one of THOSE PARENTS. All those years, I was secretly thinking that THOSE PARENTS who had to leave the room when their kid was getting immunized or straight cathed or what have you needed to just toughen up and get a grip. What did I do yesterday at the Pediatricians office when she stuck him for a bili? I cried. I cried because she put the pointy needle in my kid's hand and it made him cry and therefore, I too had to cry. Yes, yes, I know. Get a grip. Maybe I need to take vitamins and get more exercise.
Everything is going well. Cal's taking to breastfeeding like a pro, and we're taking to the sleepless nights like a couple of...medical residents. I don't even feel that tired, honestly. It's so relaxing to be home instead of running around all day and night dealing with other people's kids. Compared to that, dealing with my own kid so far has been a dream.
(Don't get all crazy--he is breastfed, but we supplemented with one bottle of formula once for his hyperbili, just to hydrate him a little bit until the old milk factory kicked in full steam. No, he has not had any nipple confusion. No, people should not get into arguments in the comments section about breast vs. bottle. People can feed their kids how they want, everyone's going to turn out fine.)
As for myself post-partum, I'm doing pretty well. Getting my energy back, and even though I have aches and pains like anyone, it's nothing that I can't handle. My only piece of advice to those of you out there who have not yet gone though this experience is: don't take anything for granted. And I mean anything. Because one day you're able to sit pretty in a hard wood seat with no problem at all, and the next day, you're wearing disposable undergarments with 2.0 Chromic catgut poking out of your bunghole. Yes. Yes. Now let us never speak of this again.
So anyway, so far so good. Even Cooper has been a good big sister--everytime the baby starts crying, she'll up to his crib or wherever he happens to be lying and look over to us like, "Do something!" And then when one of us take care of the issue at hand (picking him up, changing a poo diaper, stuffing a boob into mouth) and the kid quiets down, she seems satisfied and walks away to monitor what we're doing from a distance. We've been trying to give her as much attention as we can, because we don't want her to feel unwanted or anything like that. This is a family, after all.
Currently reading: Trying to finish "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince." My sister, Potter-fan extrodinaire, saw where my bookmark was (reasonably near the end, mind you) and said, all surprised, "You still haven't finished this book?" Um, HELLO, I just had a BABY. Geez.
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