Life with Alec

Weeks 1-4

Since it took me so long to find any pattern to our new life with Alec the first 4 weeks are kind of a blur and I wish I had had more time, or energy, then to write more, but here are just some random reflections on those first 4 weeks together.

Alec is such an old man baby - he was the oldest eyes. The way he stares at you its like he wants to tell you something, like he is carrying this burden of knowledge that weighs him down. But at the same time he looks startlingly innocent and peaceful. He is truly a mysterious creature and I feel so blessed to have him here, healthy and so amazingly sweet. Even though I believed in God before, having a baby reinforces that belief, that there is something larger than you, something truly mysterious at work in the universe. That this child came from nothing, grew inside me and is now out and a separate living and breathing human, a brand new soul - what could be more miraculous? I've taken to calling this little bird my precious old soul because that is truly what he is.

Having a baby makes me feel vulnerable. More so than ever before. My heart, my life, now hinges on this little person. I love him so much in such a short amount of time, if he were to be taken from me I can not imagine the void in my life. I feel so vulnerable and exposed. I realize how fragile all life is - how much life means, how it must be nurtured, how quickly it can end. How I never want to lose this precious creature that has now come into my life and how I must protect him at all costs. I empathize with all mothers now, and I now know that everyone is some mothers son or daughter. Everyone was loved like this once. My own mother must have felt these same things when I was born and I never knew or really appreciated that aspect of motherhood. I always knew I was lucky to have such a great mother, but I never saw it from her side, how she must have felt about us all these years, how she must have reveled in our accomplishments and cried at our sorrows. And then I empathize with Alec's vulnerability - he is just so sweet and needy. So dependent. I get angry thinking of how anyone could ever hurt a baby, break that innocence.

I watch Alec sleeping. He squirms, startles, makes funny faces, his eyes move in REM patterns behind his closed lids. What does he dream of?

When I hold him in my arms and rock him in his nursery I am overwhelmed with how precious this time is, how fast it will go. I think of all the mothers I know, most of them older with older children and I know they must have rocked like this, held these precious little ones. And I realize how they must miss it, as I know I will miss it when Alec becomes too independent to rock and cuddle (just a few short months!). So I gladly offer him up to my mother, my aunt, my mother-in-law and hope that someday my daughter or daughter-in-law will do the same for me when I am missing this wonderful time of wonder and peace with a newborn. I think you must only have this with a first born, this time Alec and I share together will never be repeated, with the next baby he will be a wild toddler demanding my attention as well. The first born get the attention. I am now grateful to have been a first born as well.

Alec is so strong - from birth he was picking his head up with that scrawny neck, lifting his head high to see what world this was that he had been born into. Of course then it would come crashing down! But even his grip on our fingers is so strong - he amazes us. He stares at us in wonder, at everything around him, taking it in, hearing our voices, smelling our smells, getting used to his family and his new world, so different, so much louder and brighter than the womb. He has the sweetest breath and I love to just snuggle him in my arms. After he eats and he lies on my shoulder he will exhale this deep contented sigh and his sweet breath is warm against my face and I can think of nothing better.

He has the longest fingers. The softest skin. Wispy blonde hair (that everyone comments on!) the darkest deepest eyes. He has the tiniest face, with the most perfect heart shaped chin. Even the small bruise between his eyebrows doesn't take away from his perfect face.

Michael and I are enthralled by his startle reflex and feel bad that we laugh at him sometimes. He'll just be in the deepest sleep and bam, something will startle him and the arms and legs will go flying. He doesn't seem that phased by it though. He rolls his eyes back into his head when he is drifting off to sleep and that freaks me out sometimes,especially when accompanied by his shaking. The first time he did this I was convinced he had just had a mild seizure. Talk about nervous first time mother! But then I began to see it as part of his falling off to sleep pattern. Now I realize the shaking was laughing but then it was silent - now he actually chortles. He also makes this what I call "milky" sigh after he eats, so contented, so peaceful. And then sometimes after he has drifted off to sleep after eating he will startle awake and open his mouth like a fish and move his head around, eyes open in wonder - wondering where the food is gone. He gets the funniest expression like - why aren't I getting any food here people!

Alec goes by many names including: Big guy,my little bird, old man, snorter borter, goopy eye, sweetie beetie, sweet pea, sweetest pea or just pea, sweet potato pie, mom's little boy, one eye, son.

The recovery from Alec's birth was difficult, both emotionally and physically. I cried every night in the hospital and most nights at home that first week. I was mourning the loss of the birth experience I didn't have and one I probably will never have. I felt like a failure, I felt ripped off, I felt angry at all women who had vaginal births with ease. I felt angry at myself - if I hadn't gotten the drugs could I have labored harder, done something to move him out of the posterior position. Could I have been more proactive in my own birth. What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? I played the labor and delivery over and over in my head ad nauseum. Mike was my emotional rock during this. He listened to me, and felt my pain, told me I was so strong and I had done so much, everything I could to bring this baby into the world and I did - I delivered a big healthy, happy baby boy. I had nothing to be sad about. And for awhile then the pain would subside and I would feel how lucky I was to have such a wonderful husband and beautiful son. I would reflect on my pregnancy and the joy it brought me and now the joy Alec was bringing me and I knew I was lucky and blessed. Some women don't even get to know the joy of pregnancy and would take a baby any way they could get one and my grief over a c-section seemed trivial then.

But in those first few days I also mourned the fact of not having any more children. I could not imagine going through this terror again. Labor was nothing compared to the recovery pain. I didn't know if I could have a repeat c-section. Though it would probably be easier without the 2 hours of labor prior to it. But for many days I was convinced Alec would be an only child. And ironically, Michael who had ever only wanted one child, now thought 2 or 3 would be great - he was that enthralled with his new son. Thankfully, I can now say I do want more children and I would go through the pain of it all over again for another blessing like Alec. He brings me infinite joy when I look at his perfect face, snuggle his warm cuddly body. He brings me peace. The days with him slip by so fast it breaks my heart. I can't have just one baby - if finances allowed I would have a whole pack, I never want to not have a baby in my arms. I get sad thinking of the day he and my yet unborn children are grown and gone.

But those first days and weeks were not just days of bliss and wonder. Alec was a sweet baby and really only did cry when he was hungry. But it was his hunger that was such an issue. We had major feeding problems in the hospital and I almost became grateful for having a c-section and being in the hospital for 5 days. I desperately needed the help of the nurses and lactation consultants to feed him. He refused to latch on to eat, his face would turn bright purple and he would scream and scream, arms flailing wildly, making it even more difficult to get him latched on. It seemed like it was too much work to get the colostrum out - he wanted instant gratification. Breastfeeding was such a struggle, and combined with the c-section pain and everything else it was almost more than I could take. Especially when his weight started to fall, though all babies do, he lost over 10 percent of his birthweight, falling form 8 pounds to 7 pounds 2 ounces. They told me to give him an ounce of formula after each feeding which I did. I didn't care, I just didn't want him to lose more weight, he was such a little bird. So he got a little bottle and then the lactation consultant switched us to syringe feeding. It was so complicated, how would I do this by myself. I felt scared to go home and deal with the feedings without the call button for a nurse to come help, and when Mike went back to work I couldn't even imagine. But finally on the 5th day my milk came in and from then on things got easier, not easy, but easier. Alec started to gain weight but by his 2 week appointment he hadn't regained his birth weight - he was only 7 lbs 13 ounces. My pediatrician was not too concerned though and she said stop supplementing but come back the following week for a weight check and see what he's doing then. He had grown 2.5 inches in length and his head had grown as well so he was obviously growing, just not gaining weight. At 3 weeks he was over 9 lbs and I felt so happy. For those first 3 weeks not a day went by I didn't think of quitting breastfeeding, it was just so hard. But now I felt like all that hard work had finally paid off, this boy was growing big and strong!

My mother was a lifesaver those first two weeks. I knew babies got up a lot at night but I had no idea how I would feel with the lack of sleep - especially while trying to recover from major surgery at the same time. Pretty much those first two weeks I stayed in bed and my mom or Mike brought me the baby to feed him and they did everything else - changed him, diapered him, dressed him, burped him. Everything. And my mom did the laundry, cooked and cleaned. I was thoroughly spoiled. I couldn't have done it without them and I have newfound respect for all mothers, but especially single mothers. My recovery was made worse by a terrible cough and cold I developed. I was terrified I would give it to Alec, poor frail bird. And the pain of coughing or sneezing with abdominal stitches is unbearable. Every cough or sneeze I had to grab my stomach and even then it felt like I was ripping the stitches out and the stinging was intense.

When my mom left we were both crying. I was sad because I didn't think I could function without her and she was so sad to leave Alec. The next day Mike's parents came and they helped us through the next 2 weeks with food and laundry and cleaning. I can't thank all of our parents enough for everything they did. I had no idea how overwhelming having a baby could be. How time consuming, how draining. The lack of sleep, the complete inability to function except to care for this little one's needs. The c-section didn't help in this matter and there was no way we could have gotten through those first 4 weeks without all the help and support our family and friends gave us.

He is the sweetest boy. 4 weeks have flown by and dragged at the same time. They have been the toughest most amazing most tearful most happy most spiritual days of my entire life. I watch Alec sleep and I am in awe of this baby. Probably as a result of the c-section I have a hard time connecting the fact that this little creature who is so big and whole and perfect came from inside me. I grew him, unconsciously I grew this miracle in my body. It seems so strange and somehow disconnected. And so very miraculous. I come to watch him breathe. Sometimes I am a bad mother and lift his arm while he sleeps to trigger his startle reflex when his breathing is too shallow and I need proof he is alive. He sleeps through it, peaceful, startling just a little to let me know he is living and breathing.

Michael and Alec have their own special bond going. Michael was the first one to hold Alec, the first voice he heard. Michael was the first one to change his diaper, his primary caregiver those 5 days in the hospital. Michael sleeps with Alec in his arms, both of them sleeping, both of them at peace. The difference in their size floors me. Michael puts Alec on his forearm and carries him like a football. My child is no bigger than my husbands forearm. Amazing. Alec's torso is the size of my hand. He is this teeny tiny perfect machine. An eating machine! At his one month appointment he was 10lbs 3 oz. He is gaining and not only that he is moving up in percentiles towards the top of the charts! GO Alec!

I was a little nervous after everyone left and Michael was back at work and I was now home alone with the baby. Such a big responsibility, what if something happened, would I know what to do? It was overwhelming at first but then it became peaceful. Just me and my son. Hanging out, getting to know each other, eating and sleeping. Those early days were so blissful. I wish I could get them back.

At 4 weeks Alec and I were mobile. We went to the breastfeeding support group at the hospital and I was so glad I did. To be with other mothers with little babies, to hear we weren't alone in our feeding struggles gave me hope. The class was filled with baby boys - must have been something in the water or maybe mothers of little boys need more help but it was neat to see all these baby boys and how different they all were. Some of them have such hair! I secretly prefer my little badly with his wispy blonde hair. It felt good to just get out of the house on our own, though driving was a little nerve-wracking because I hadn't put the mirror in the he backseat yet so I couldn't see him and of course I was terrified he would stop breathing. Crazy fears. But we did well and I am starting to feel somewhat normal again.

Or at least strong enough to move on with life. I understand now how time heals, my incision is healing and so is my heart. I think I will always be secretly devastated by my c-section, I will always feel a tiny bit a failure because of it. I feel like I missed out on something that was so essential in life. It's silly because I still created a new life, carried him and brought him into this world. But there is still a sense of loss there that I think can only be understood by other mother's who have had c-sections. I am very lucky that I have several friends who have gone through this as well and their support has been amazing to me. They understand what it is like to have the self doubt, the feelings of being robbed and cheated. But in truth we did the cheating, we cheated death. 100 years ago I would have died in childbirth and so would Alec. But we are both here and healthy. There is something miraculous in that and for that I am grateful.