Thad's Birthday

I know we took a bit of a snooze there (so sorry).  It was actually pretty crazy.  Even this post won't be enough to satiate your ravenous appetite for my witty repartee, but today is an important anniversary. 

Today is the one-year anniversary of the day we brought our little boy home from the hospital. 

He was actually born on October 11, at 9:35pm.  His labor was textbook, if you recall.  Having rocked labor and delivery once a mere 15 months prior, I woke up at 7am, knowing precisely what was happening.  I'm having a baby today.  He's four weeks early, but what the hell?  The nurses didn't want to admit that he was coming, but I knew.  By noon, I had progressed 3 centimeters.  Try sending me home now, ladies!  Anyway, he was easy.  As I said, textbook.  I spent most of the day in the jetted tub (not 100% relaxing, but hells yeah!).  The on-call midwife was not my regular, but she stayed with me from 5:30 through till the end-- massages, encouragement, suggestions.  It was super.  Matt was there to ground me, and my focal point through the contractions was actually his face.  Aww!  They had to break my water because despite wanting to get outta dodge early, T didn't want to do the work.  Twenty minutes later, I was holding my little guy.  And, then, everything changed.  He wasn't crying; he was turning blue.

Matthew stayed with him the.entire.time.  I was transferred over to my recovery room, sans baby and husband.  I was exhausted, discombobulated and the damn nurses kept coming in to rough me up.  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, they wheeled his bassinet into my room.  I don't remember, but I don't think I was asleep.  He had a pulse-ox clip on his toe, and an obnoxious alarm went off every time his oxygen level dropped below 93.  After only a few minutes, the nurse determined he wasn't ready, and they took him away again.  I wouldn't hold him again for three days.  After a ten-day roller coaster of learning about oxygen levels and weaning and lung development and antibiotics and feeding-breastmilk-through-the-nose tubes and becoming familiar to and by the NICU staff, we got some good news.  We could bring him home.  We could begin to re-establish our lives with our new addition at home. 

Now, a year from that first night, and our son is 24.25 pounds and 32 inches long.  His stats are off the charts, well above average on all counts.  No, he's not walking, but damn, he crawls fast!  He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen, and the dimples in his cheeks are what make his smile contagious.  Strangers want to make him laugh just to see them again.