Friday, May 30, 2014

8 weeks... going on 18...

Well, it's official. Rosie hit 8 weeks old today.

She's heading off to college tomorrow.

I know, I know, not really, but it kinds feels like it's going that fast. I can't even begin to explain how DIFFERENT it feels this time around, how FAST she is changing, and how much more I want her to STOP changing! The third baby, you guys. The third baby.

So, what's an 8 week old unfathomably adorable baby doing these days? You know, all the classic newborn stuff:

Rosie eats.
Around every 2-3 hours during the day. She continues to be a champion nurser and really the only time we ever hear her cry is when she's hungry or when she's eaten too fast and needs to burp. Well, she also cries every time I buckle her in the carseat, but usually ONLY during the buckling process. Once she's in and the carseat is moving, she's usually fine. Thank goodness.

Rosie smiles.
It's amazing. She started doing it around 5 1/2 weeks, and we LOVE it. At first she would only smile for me (good girl.) but she quickly started smiling for David, and now will smile for Henry and Maggie too, when they get really close to her face and talk to her. Because of this, there is A WHOLE LOT of googly baby talk happening in our house, because the rumors are true: babies really do love baby talk.

Rosie spits-up.
Actually, it would really be more accurate to say that Rosie projectile vomits. Seriously, it's intense. The crazy thing is, she usually does absolutely nothing. For most of her feedings, she eats, she burps, we're done. No spit-up. Tada!
But then, every once in a while, with no warning, she will seriously puke up an ENORMOUS amount of milk. Like, everything she ate. Ounces and ounces and ounces- soaking her clothes, my clothes, whatever piece of furniture we're sitting on, and occasionally any people or pets who are in the vicinity as well. It is EPIC! And then, as soon as she's done, she's happy as a clam again. Smiling and cooing like nothing ever happened.
But of course, I am not happy. I am upset. I am concerned. I am covered with milk. I worry that this is not normal and that she probably has the Ebola virus or a busted stomach valve or is deathly allergic to whatever I ate today. (Because, apparently, having done this whole 'baby thing' twice before has in no way lessened my tendency to think that the sky is falling.)
I also am convinced that she MUST be hungry again in 10 minutes, because there is NO WAY there's anything left in her stomach after that, so I try to feed her again, and guess what? If I feed her again, she pukes again. Duh.
However, if I can climb out of my hormone haze and CALM DOWN and NOT feed her again, she's happy for the next 3 hours, then eats again with no problem.
There seems to be no clear trigger, but I suspect that it happens when she eats way too much, way too fast. I tend to overproduce anyway and I have a fast let-down, and sometimes when she's really hungry, I just think she can't regulate herself. Sort of like the way I am when brownies are in the house.
The good news is that, it seems to be happening with less and less regularity; she did it day before yesterday, but before that it had been almost a week since the last time. I'd love for her to grow out of that, ASAP. The laundry it creates is a total drag.

Rosie sleeps.
This always the tricky part. The delicate part. The part that, when it's going well, we hesitate to even speak of it aloud, because we might RUIN IT BY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT.
But, for posterity, (and because I am well aware that we are still in the blessed 4th trimester, and that she may, at any moment, stop doing this and wake up every 45 minutes all night long until she is seven) I feel that I must document that Rosie sleeps.
She sleeps hard.
She sleeps all. night. long.
She usually eats for the last time sometime between 9 and 11pm, and then sleeps until somewhere between 5 and 7am. It is an amazing and blessed thing, and I have done nothing to make it happen or to deserve it, and I am just so unbelievable thankful. SO THANKFUL, THANK YOU, JESUS.
She's been doing it for about 2 weeks now; before that she was doing the same schedule, but waking up at about 3am to eat. Once last week and once this week, she's still woken up around 3 to eat, which honestly, is fine by me. She goes right back to sleep afterwards, so it feels like no big deal at all.
We've had a couple tough nights where she's either up a lot, or fussy and hard to get back to sleep, but none for the past 3 weeks, so we're in a great stretch right now. I will miss it when it is gone, but I am so very glad it is here now.

Sweet Baby RosiePosy,
We love you so much! It's hard to believe that you've only been here for 8 weeks- you seem like such a fixture in our family already. We love your sweet smile, your gurgly noises, your lovely disposition, and yes, even your tiny balding head.
You have brought your brother and sister such joy over the past two months- they LOVE to hold you and sing to you and talk to you. You are the first thing they ask about in the morning- "Where's Rosie?" they say, bleary eyes scanning the living room. Henry especially is not happy with me when I go places and take you with me, he thinks that you'd much rater stay with him. Maggie is present at every one of your diaper changes and swaddlings and loves to lay next to you when you're on the floor having tummy time. She's already decided that you are her sidekick.
Your daddy and I are completely smitten as well. We weren't entirely certain we were up for this whole three kids thing. When it's all theoretical, it's hard to be convinced. But you. You have absolutely won us over. Absolutely and completely.
My favorite time with you is at night. When everyone else is sleeping. I love the weight of your little body, falling asleep on my chest as we sit on the sofa. I love the feel of your tiny hands, opening and closing against my skin. I love snuggling you into bed next to me for a late-night or early-morning snack. I love watching you sleep in your tiny bassinet next to us, your chest rising gently, your little mouth making that tiny, perfect o shape. You might not be quite as tiny anymore, but you're still perfect.
We are so very lucky that you are ours.


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