knits & plants: Letters to Liam

Dear Liam,

Hello, my baby boy. You're here, and it's more than I expected, in almost every way. You've already filled our lives, creeping into all those spaces where I never even realized anything was missing.

You came one month ago. One month and three days ago (Friday), your Daddy and I arrived at the hospital fully expecting that you'd be born by that evening. Boy, were we wrong! In a nutshell, you are as stubborn as your Mama, and didn't want to come out. So we coaxed and threatened for three whole days. Gigi was there to help, and Auntie Lulu came, expecting you to be born already, only to end up waiting along with us for the entire weekend.

By Sunday night, you and I had both had enough. We were tired and weary of being prodded and monitored. So when your little heart began to beat funny, we decided that we wanted you born right away, and half an hour later, you were here!

In the delivery room, you were welcomed by your Daddy and Gigi. We've got some excellent pictures. I can still hear your totally indignant cry as the attendants checked you out. But you were soothed by Daddy soon enough. You were so bright-eyed and taking it all in. Too bad that all that intervention in the past three days resulted in both you and I having fever after you were born. Wah!

We had a week's stay in the hospital, and then Daddy and I got to take you home! You were so small and already you were a good baby. You hardly ever cried unless you were hungry. Which is good because I felt (like most new Mamas) like my eyeballs were going to fall out. I couldn't sleep for more than 20 minutes without waking up in a panic to check that you were still there and breathing. For a few days, I feared for my sanity. But one learns to cope quickly, and so I did.

A word on breastfeeding. No one mentioned that it might be hard. And by hard I mean damn near impossible. I didn't have any milk for you for almost a week. It was terrible. You were hungry, and screaming, and I had nothing to give. Thank god for the lactation consultant at the hospital who worked with me for hours. So for a week or so, we gave you formula. I was devastated. Emergency C-section? No biggie. But not being able to nurse you almost put me over the edge. Go figure. But with perseverance, a thousand dollar breast pump and pumping every two hours around the clock, we finally got it down. And it makes me so happy. So, so happy. You're an audible nurser, swallowing noisily and making little cooing noises when you're taking a break. It makes me weak in the knees.

You're a good baby, and I hope that keeps up. We sleep at night, mostly. You wake, you eat, and an hour later, we're both back asleep. You can follow things with your eyes and seem most interested in Murphy who, owing to his black-and-whiteness, you can see easily. For now, your eyes are blue and you hair has a real reddish tint in the daylight. You're already your own person, and I can't wait to get to know you.