Apart from not knowing what day of the week it is, and from almost burning down the house because I fell asleep while sterilising things the old fashioned way (we have since purchased an automatic steriliser), Naomi and I are settling in to parenthood very well.
Our son is 8 days old today, and the confinement nanny tells us that he’s probably having one of many growth spurts today – he demanded to be fed more frequently, and his skin appears drier and stretched. Dunno… she say one.
A stint under the UV light and and increasing food supply seems to have reduced his jaundice a fair bit, and we’re very happy to have been home for three days now.
Last Friday when Naomi and I checked in to the hospital at 3am for the elective general anaesthesia caesarean, we knew it was going to be a long day, and all the nerves and jitters had already dissolved into tiredness by the time we got to the hospital.
I was shown into the delivery suite to wait, while Naomi was wheeled in, together with the camera for the anaesthesiologist to take pictures of our newborn because I’m not allowed into a GA caesarean theatre.
I’d always known it would be quick, but I wasn’t prepared for how fast our baby announced his arrival by yelling his lungs out – I could hear him in the delivery suite, outside the operating theatre, and I hadn’t even had time to finish my hot drink that I had made at the pantry before they wheeled him out for me to say hello.
I don’t think anyone could’ve heard me greet my son because he was louder than any baby I have ever heard.
I don’t care if he punctures my eardrums though. He’s the most beautiful baby boy in the whole wide world.
And his name is Kai.