four weeks old (plus one hour and counting)

Dear heavens, where have the hours gone? Already, my little traveller looks so much bigger and older, so many things have already progressed from 'newborn' to 'infant'. He feeds on a (mostly) four hour schedule. He sleeps well. He's alert and tracks both our faces and our voices. He loves being placed on his belly so he can do baby push ups. He doesn't cry often, but when he does he sounds so much more robust than the thin mewling he made when he was in the hospital. He's gone from barely being able to hold a 20 - 30 ml feeding every three hours to lustily demanding a 125 - 150 ml feeding every 4 hours. His little legs are long enough that his feet finally reach down to the 'footie' part of his snowsuit. My baby ... is a baby. I'm so glad that I barely slept in the hospital, using every moment we were together to memorize his face, the sounds he made, the way he moved ... it's all passed by. He's so much bigger, stronger - and he looks different!



Dear Arden, if ever you read these words, the last four weeks with you have been among the happiest in my life. Each of you children has brought out something new in me, and you'll forever be the baby who showed me that I am not in control. It's a lesson others have tried to impress on me but I remained certain that if only I followed the right rules in the right way, I'd still be holding the reins. I did follow all the rules, all the right way, but everything went topsy-turvey anyway. Together I hope we'll urge each other on, support one another, cheer on our successes and sympathize with our failures in this big, unpredictable world.



The physical aspect of yours that has struck me most deeply during the past four weeks is your steady gaze. You look at a person as if nothing is hidden, and as if there's no need to hide anything. You radiate a calm certainty that speaks of strength and of acceptance. It is quite remarkable.