Today Madelyn is one month old.
Oh, what a month this has been.
One month ago, she was an impossibly tiny little sprite. She only had one little Prem-size onesie that fit her, and even that was on the big side. Her hospital notes describe her that day as a “settled little baby.” She was just so new. At one month old, Madelyn is robust and alert, though still on the tiny side (she’s now the same weight as her daddy was when he was born).
She’s a hungry little thing, always wanting to have a little snack. She loves having cuddles and being talked to. When she has a bath, she likes being on her tummy, where she kicks her legs and twists around and has a big swim. She loves spending time on the ground on her tummy, and just before she turned 3 weeks old, she started to lift up her head and move it from side to side. She’ll happily lay on her back or her tummy and wriggle around, but she needs her position to be changed constantly or she gets bored. She has an arch that plays music, and she’ll lie under it dead still for a surprising amount of time. She loves going to the workshop in the front pack with Daddy, and laying in the big hammock under the trees with Mummy. Her little personality is starting to show through. She is so much like her daddy. She’s impatient, letting us know immediately and loudly when she needs something. She’s energetic and alert, and needs to be tired out with exercise (tummy time and then a bath) before she’ll go down for a nap. She loves people and noise and talking. Her face is very expressive, which makes us laugh. She babbles and squeals with delight. Her eyes smile, and every now and then we’ll catch a glimpse of a real smile.
She will scream like her heart is breaking when she’s hungry, if I take too long to get ready to feed her. But then once she knows she’s about to be fed, her screams immediately turn into cute little satisfied sighs. When she’s particularly hungry, she’ll say “Nommmmm!” as she latches on, which always makes me smile no matter how tired I am.
There is too much to be excited about during the day, so she doesn’t nap for long and stubbornly fights sleep. But she’s developed her own little pattern during the night. After a marathon feed, she falls asleep at around 8pm. So I put a movie on, and at around 9:30pm-ish, I wake her to change her nappy, put her nightie on her, wrap her up, and then do one more feed, and put her down in her bassinet. She’ll sleep there happily for 4 – 6 hours, and then wake up for a midnight snack. Once she settles back to sleep (this can take an hour and a half on a bad night), she’ll sleep for another 2 or 3 hours. She’s been doing this for about the past week or so, and I’m feeling much more human. Sometimes, her night feed goes so well that Angus doesn’t even wake up for it. Success!
This morning, it was a little bit colder then it has been since she was born. We’ve had a drought, and it rained last night for the first time in her entire life. So she wore her little jeans and a little hoodie jacket, and Angus and I laughed at her in her Big People Clothes. The socks she was wearing had little grips on the bottom, like if she walked she wouldn’t fall over (she was wearing her Walking Socks). She was cranky this morning, and Angus was stuck on the couch with her because whenever we moved her off his chest, she woke up and cried.
Yesterday, she did a massive poo that exploded above her nappy and through her clothes. We put her on the plastic changing mat so that we could easily wipe it up afterwards. But as soon as we took her nappy off, she did a wee, spreading the poo all the way up her back and into her hair. So she had two baths that day. Then, this afternoon, she did a poo during being changed, so it went all over me and the couch (this is the second time she’s done this, the first time she did it to Angus).
This afternoon, we went to a team meeting for church. She was one of three babies there. When I walked in with her crying and apologised for my crying baby, one of the men said “It’s fine, we’ve all been there.” I love my church for making sure I don’t feel bad about her crying. She fed pretty happily for most of the time, and then started to cry again so I got up to run outside with her, and at the door she stopped crying. She was staring at the roof as if it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. So I stood by the door rocking her for a while, until I noticed poo on the back of her little onesie. So she had an outfit change, and I put a green cardigan on her so she was being all festive for St Patrick’s Day.
She is the most precious wee poppet. We love that she is our very own little daughter. She fits right into our little family, and we are so happy she’s here.
(I wrote this blog post on the 17th of March, but have only just had an opportunity to read through it and publish it. Life has changed for the better)