Tuesday, October 31

Teagan Camille, RN

Happy 1st Halloween, Monkey!


Saturday, October 14

Two Months Old


Dear Teagan Camille,
You are two months old now, and I am sitting here wondering where the time has gone. I don’t even know where to begin. You have grown and changed so much in the last month that I don’t think I can put it all into words. I put you in your car seat and into the car one morning last week, and looking at you from the frontseat I was absolutely heartbroken by how quickly the baby-ness is leaving your face. You were wide eyed and looking around and at that moment you looked like a child more than a baby.

I am back at work now, and leaving you at Mima’s that first morning was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I wasn’t worried about you—I knew you would be fine with Mima. It was hard because I knew it was the first of many, many mornings that I would have to leave you for at least 8 hours. Many mornings have passed since, and it is still hard each time for me to leave you. But I know at the end of the day I will get to pick you up and see your heartbreaking smile and smell your yummy smelling head. And everyday I do.
I took you to see Dr. Stacy again yesterday. The nurse came in and asked if I had any questions or concerns. She measured your head and length. Your head was almost 15 ½ inches which put you at the 60% mark. And you were 24 ¼ inches long, which puts you at the 98% mark!! You are going to be really tall! You weighed in at 11 lb 13 oz. which put you at the 75% mark. You are a long, healthy, strong, beautiful girl.
The nurse told me Dr. Stacy would be in next to explain to me which vaccines you would be getting that day and then she left. I was sitting there holding you, waiting on Dr. Stacy, when you did it. You laughed at me. You really did. You were laying on my lap, looking up me smiling. I grabbed your little feet and said, “What is it?” And you laughed. A cute little surprised giggle. And then I said, “What is it?” And again, the cute, little, surprised giggle. And then I said, “What is it?” And you crammed your little fist into your mouth and then the moment was gone. I must have asked you ‘what is it?’ three million times in the last 24 hours, trying you make you laugh one more time, but you are simply not interested in it anymore.

Then the evil nurse came back with the shots and stomped on our happy day. She laid you on your back and held your ankles with one hand while she stabbed your chubby little thighs with the razor sharp needles. You gasped at the first one as your eyes spread to a mile wide. With the second shot you let out the first cry, a nice little warm up. Once the third shot was given, it was wailing time. You hollered and howled as I scooped you into my arms in an attempt to comfort you. I was chopped liver. You cried a heartbroken, dramatic cry for what seemed like an eternity. I whispered in your ear and rocked you in my arms, at this point trying to comfort both of us. You finally stopped crying for a second, as though you forgot why you were crying in the first place. And then I whispered, “Mommy’s sorry.” This must have been a reminder, because you turned on the tears once more. I finally got you calmed down and back into your carseat. I made a mental note as well: Daddy will bring you next time.
You sleep through the night. I am going to say that again, as it is totally worth repeating. You sleep through the night. At least six hours; sometimes eight or ten. I was thrilled by this at first, as now that I am working again, a full night’s sleep comes in handy. But you have been doing it for over two weeks now, and the middle-of-the-night bonding is something I really miss. When I put you into your crib some nights, I secretly hope you will wake up hungry before morning. You went to sleep around 8:30 last night and woke up at 4:00 this morning. I rescued you from your crib and changed and fed you. You fell asleep on my chest as I was burping you, allowing me to smell your head and feel your soft breath on my neck. As I sat there rocking you, I kept thinking: please, please let me always remember this moment.
It amazes me, and other people, too, what a good baby you are. You only cry when you are hungry. And I’ve heard people say that before, but I mean you only cry when you are hungry. And even then you usually give us a few warning grunts. You like to do everything. You sit in your boppy. You stare and smile and talk to the ceiling fan. You are mesmerized by the TV. Keiser freaks you out a little and your eyes get huge when he comes near you. But you smile when he licks your chubby face. You are so pleased by everything that I struggle to explain this aspect of your personality.
You are not reaching for things yet. So far, your hands are only good for sucking and pulling hair. You love to kick and coo and yell and dance with someone moving your arms and legs. You love to eat, and I love to feed you. When you finish a bottle, I take it out of your mouth and you lean forward and grunt. Every single time. You love to have people smile at you and talk to you and sing to you, and you respond with a huge, drooly, bubbly, toothless grin and noises that sound almost like laughing.
Thankfully, you have not lost any of your hair like I had imagined you would. It is still full and has grown quite a bit. Your eyes seem to get bigger and more captivating everyday. They haven’t changed completely brown yet, they are huge pools of dark gray. Your eyelashes have sprouted in the last week or so, making your eyes even more beautiful. I hoped you would have long eyelashes like your Daddy, and it pleases me to see them grow. People are actually starting to say you look like me, which I, of course, love to hear.
You are eating about 4 ounces every 3-4 hours. You have started recognizing your bottle and you squirm with excitement and smack your lips when it comes into view. You have been teething for a few weeks now, and anyone who dares hold you will walk away with more slobber on them than what’s left in your mouth. But I don’t know anyone who is bothered by it.
You are getting stronger by the day. You are not much for laying on your stomach, but when you do, you have your head up looking around. We discovered last night that if we lay you on your back and pull on your hands, you can hold your head up as we move you into a sitting position. We were surprised by this, as in the baby bible this is not expected until the fifth month.
You are still making the chuckling-grunting noise that I first fell in love with two months ago. You love to be talked to and have even begun talking back. You still move your mouth in silence, but once it feels just right, you let out the sweetest noises.
I am still learning from you. I am learning what worry, responsibility, happiness, gratefulness, family, and life are. Thank you for teaching me.

Love you, Mom