Five months of #momlife and I’m ready to hit the pause button on Ambrose. I’ve really and truly fallen in love with him this past month. Maybe it’s because he’s sleeping better (read: I’m sleeping better) or because he’s finally out of Leap 4 (and actually, technically in Leap 5, so the grumpies are back a bit) but he’s just a delight. He’s old enough to be really fun, but not too old that I have to worry about bad behavior or mobility. He knows to smile at the camera when I say “One, two, three!” and sometimes when he’s eating he looks up at me and gives this flirty half-grin…so, yeah. He’s pretty much got me wrapped around his wee little finger. And I’m alright with that.
Well, here we are at the four month mark. Now I’m starting to feel like time is flying by. We’ve got neck control, we’ve got giggles (er, shrieks), and before we even know what’s happened, I’m sure, we’ll have prom dates and college. If it means I get a full night’s sleep for once, I’ll take it.
Ambrose’s personality is really starting to shine. He’s a serious, observant dude like his father, but at the same time he’s also pretty happy. And he’s chill like me — he’s totally fine doing his own thang while I get work done around the house or make breakfast. I guess I won’t sell him to the circus after all!
Three months! Ambrose has officially made it out of the Fourth Trimester (and so have I!). Our little dude has skillz galore, and I’m starting to get pretty confident in my handling of him as well. I’m so excited to see how he develops between now and my next update! Read more
Ambrose is two months young today! Meaning that we are one month out from the end of the so-called Fourth Trimester…phew. This month has simultaneously flown by and been one of the longest months of my life. I suspect that’s how motherhood is in general. I’m trying to cherish these early days, but…I would like just a bit more sleep! (Still, Ambrose is a treasure, and we are so happy that he’s back home and healthy.)
So! It’s been one month since Ambrose was born and our world turned upside down. And obviously, a lot has happened in that month. But now we are safe back at home, spending our days in a constant cycle of nursing and not-napping, and working on getting off that last bit of oxygen.
(Is this not the cutest baby you’ve seen in your life? Also, if you’re wondering about the oxygen, he’s not off it yet, but he’s doing really well, so I took the cannula off to get this photo!)
Ambrose is three weeks old today. We’ve come a long way in those three weeks, and have been given a lot of good news. The ventilator came out. The umbilical line came out. The PICC line came out. I got to hold him. He was off all sedatives. The MRI came out normal. It was time to start breastfeeding…
But those words, spoken by the neonatologist during rounds this morning, formed truly the greatest sentence we’ve heard in our twenty days in the PCH NICU.
We might be going home. Soon. As in, tomorrow or the day after soon, depending on how quickly we can get things sorted out with Tricare and the medical supply company providing Ambrose’s oxygen.
Which means that today saw us wrapping up a bunch of loose ends. Ambrose had to be registered in the military DEERS system for insurance to release him (meaning Dad had to take a trip to the nearest base), we had to make his first pediatrician appointment, we had to do another car seat test (3 hours long, because he’s going home on oxygen), we had to meet with someone to figure out the oxygen system…etcetera, etcetera.
But! There’s a light at the end of this long, long tunnel! We are about to bust out of this joint!
Which has me simultaneously thrilled and terrified. A bit like this timeless Saved by the Bell GIF:
Thrilled, because dude. I finally get to take my son home after three weeks. I get to carry him around in all my myriad wraps and carriers, I get to take him on my favorite 3-mile route around downtown, I get to dress him in all his cute clothes and stick him under the high-contrast mobile that’s especially perfect for his limited newborn vision…and as for me, I get to be home, with all my stuff, eating all the food I made sure to freeze in advance, feeding Ambrose whenever he wants, sleeping next to him in his Moses basket, and being his mom.
Terrified, because holy cow. I’m about to be placed in charge, 100%, of a newborn. What. It’s about to get very sleep-deprived up in the Huffman house. And as much as I thought I had stuff figured out before Ambrose was born, I officially know now that babies don’t follow any sort of rules. They do their own thang. And I’m going to have to learn to live with that.
Mostly though, I’m thrilled. It’s time to move forward with our lives, and get Ambrose back home where he belongs.
So apparently Nurse Nancy wasn’t kidding around when she told Ambrose we’d try taking the NG tube out today. It came out at ten o’clock this morning! Which means that all we’ve got left on him is…well, okay. The cannula, a foot thing that checks his oxygen saturation levels, and two leads on his chest to measure his heart rate and respiration rate. So he’s still pretty wired, meaning that moving him from his crib to the chair remains a bit of a hassle.
This is just a shot of Ambrose getting his cares done. Cares are where they check a bunch of stuff on him: tummy circumference, blood pressure, temperature, chest noises, etc. It’s a good way to wake him up a bit when he falls asleep in the middle of feeding.
Today we tried out the car seat! As I wrote yesterday, the goal was to keep Ambrose in there for an hour without his oxygen stats dropping. J and I were at an organ recital in the tabernacle while they performed the bulk of the test (they even fit the straps to him, how handy!) but I managed to get back in right at the end and take a few shots of him in the seat. He was very hungry and also soiled, hence the slight tantrum. But I don’t blame him. I also get very angry when I’m hungry.