Baby-moon

This is our time to get to know Zach, and we're loving every minute of it. We've learned that he's got a laid-back personality that's kind of like, "I've got no complaints - well, diaper changes are not too cool - but hey, I'm just happy to be here!" He is content to spend hours making googly eyes and looking around in amazement at everything; and when it's time to go to sleep, his general attitude is, "Sleep? Sure! Sounds good to me!" (Of course that wasn't the case between 2 am and 5 am last night, but that's another story.) He's also quick to let us know what he likes and doesn't like: Walks in the stroller = good; sitting still at the beach = bad; singing the "Little Potato" song = good; taking a bath = bad.

I also find myself amazed at how physically strong he is. They say that babies who develop in a compromised environment (i.e. spending seven weeks with ruptured membranes) tend to compensate by growing stronger. (The three doses of steroids I had at the hospital might have helped too.) In Zach's case he is a little powerhouse of wiry strength; able to lift his head and hold it, and practically able to roll himself over.

In general, I'm trying to avoid comparisons that begin with, "Luke was x and Zach is y..." but I will say this: I am a different person this time around. For one thing, I'm more relaxed. Sure, I see those eyes rolling among those who know me well, but I swear it's true, even with all of the caveats about the special care that a preemie post-NICU baby needs. He's been gaining weight steadily since he's been home so we must be doing something right, right? I genuinely feel confident that I can handle it, and that's a big change from last time around.

The second thing is I'm actually able to get a little bit of sleep. It's not great, because I've been getting up at night for each bottle-feeding, then pumping for the next round, and that leaves me about 90 minutes in between each session to get some sleep. But last time around I was never able to fall asleep in those interim periods and I basically went weeks without sleep. This time I'm mostly able to fall asleep in little chunks. It's not great, but it's something.

Oh, and the real headline is that I might be getting to the point where I can phase out the pumping. One really good session with the lactation consultant this morning and Zach seems to have made the connection between me and the milk he drinks. As of this afternoon he's been nursing like a pro. If this holds up, it might mean that I can add 20 minutes or so to my sleep sessions now...





Here's Dave working with Zach in tow. Notice how I'm not offering any pictures of myself - there's a good reason for that. Sometimes I swear even Zach looks at me to say, "Gee mom, you look like a wreck."



So how is Luke doing? Overtly, he's a proud and happy big brother. And it's good that he has other outlets for his energies, like Grandma and Papa (seen here, making cookies with my mom).



But he has not-so-subtle ways of showing his need for attention: "Daddy, why don't you let Grandma Joan hold Zach?" "Mommy, I think Zach just wants to be alone in his room right now."

Two nights I decided to go for a walk after dinner and no one else wanted to come so I set out alone. Apparently moments after I left, Luke decided he wanted to come with me after all, and he spent the next 20 minutes or so in complete meltdown mode, wailing uncontrollably. When I finally got back home, he was a crumpled, tear-soaked, pathetic little heap on the floor. It nearly broke my heart. "He's been through a lot these past few weeks," my mom pointed out - the understatement of the year. But the good news is that I took him with me last night and I think we have the beginnings of a new tradition: Special After Dinner Mommy-Lukey Walk. It's time that I need as much as he does.

Burning question of the week: Why "Enzo?"

We've gotten all sorts of questions: Is there a relative named Enzo? Is it after the car (men only)? Is it after the shoes (women only)? Is it after Enzo the Baker (Godfather fans only)? I'll say this much: We had a few more mundane middle names picked out, but after a certain point in this long process, we decided he needed something with much more pizazz. Plus Dave has had a long-running campaign to give a kid a super-Italian name, and I ruled out "Massimo" as a first name many months ago. (Example: "Tonight Jeanne, Dave, Luke, and Massimo are coming over to visit." "Jeanne and Dave and Luke are bringing a little old man with them?")

But ultimately the middle name choice was up to Dave, and he chose Enzo. So I'll turn the question over to him: Why Enzo?

Dave gives me a withering look. "Because he couldn't have been named anything else."