For starters, let me introduce our newest pets, the ants. There are 20 or so and they are each named, according to Lucca, Zachary. Ahhh, life with boys.
Oh and that sleeping through the night thing was a fluke. A crazy, cruel joke of a fluke. Wednesday night was the stuff of nightmares. Oscar was up from 11-4am crying, requiring one of us to walk with him or sit with him in our laps for that entire time. At 1am, as I wore a deep trench in the carpet walking the same small circle over and over again, I started to crumble. I’m not proud. I was hitting the wall, thinking all kinds of self-pitying things. Like how I resented losing my third trimester. And how I can’t even look at a big, round pregnant woman without pangs of envy for the finale I didn’t get. How I couldn’t believe that all of my children, all three of them, have had awful reflux. I went dark. I got angry during that wee, small hour with my wee, small boy. I realized I was crying harder than him.
I took the long, slow march back to our bedroom to wave the white flag in defeat and hand him to Matt. Lucca had already been in our room once by that time, with two more visits to come. Matt took over admirably, honoring our long-standing agreement that if one of us is losing it, the other comes to the rescue no questions asked. Lucca peeked in and I walked him back to his room. Finally by 4 Oscar fell asleep. Lucca was back in our bed sleeping soundly on my pillow, and Colton announced his presence at 5:11.
It was a three-ring circus.
Thankfully the next night was fine, good even.
But I still have the aftertaste of Wednesday in my mouth. Mostly because I realize how much there is that I have not mentally unpacked yet. During the day it is far easier to focus on the positive, and realize how I would have given anything to have had Axel make it, reflux or not. How lucky I am to have my little baby at all, and how much he has been through in his short life. I hope its just a function of time. It must be. At night, when I can’t sleep (most nights) I lie there and think about how I wish things were. I toss and turn, agonizing over the minutia of the day. Or think how I wish we were through this tough phase. I get nervous when I start wishing away time. I think when people say the infant months are so fleeting they must not have babies with reflux. But anyway, its neither here nor there. I want to be present, savoring each moment of life with these children while they still think the world revolves around me. While they still believe Matt and I can fix all the world’s problems. It is so hard, though, when Oscar cries so much of the time right now.
He is about 13 lbs now, and 21 weeks old tomorrow (10.5 weeks adjusted). He coos all the time, and just last night made it through the whole night without eating for the first time. 6:45-6:45. Amazing stuff.
Some photos to play catch up: