The first day of life has been a little rough. Mom and dad already need to be getting more sleep than they are. Breastfeeding didn’t start easily despite a pretty good understanding of how it’s “supposed” to go. Recently, dad’s been feeding Sam a special high-calorie formula from a small tube run along his pinkie finger. All sorts of pictures are being taken. Several of which are appropriate for a broader audience and so will find their way here or at least in the gallery, but not until all three of us come home (expected to be Tuesday morning.) Things still feel a little touch-and-go despite the “these things are pretty hard to break” talk from the CNM that delivered Sam for us. I’m looking forward to when I feel there’s a greater margin, and I don’t feel I have to watch each breath to make sure it’s followed by the next one, and each suck to make sure bubbles appear in the little formula pouch pinned to my shirt, to when I’m confident both in the diaper changing and that Sam’s doing an appropriate number of things in each diaper. I don’t know whether that’s a change to expect in her, or in me. Probably both.
I am again, home for a brief moment — I hadn’t packed enough changes of clothing for how long we’ll end up staying there. I foolishly thought I might be able to sleep at home one of these nights. But, I’m glad to be with Sam. I love the look in her eyes as she studies my face while sucking formula from my finger.
