to health

An old guy already - he's one day old. Experienced. Figuring it all out.

Or maybe not quite yet.

Today's problem - none of the newborn clothes Anna brought to the hospital will fit him. Newborn, apparently, means about six pounds. Luckily, on a hunch, she brought one that says, "1 month - 10 pounds." That's the one he'll go home in.

Which brings us to problem #2: he's not going home today. Last night, the ultra-cautious paediatrician started him on a course of antibiotics which have to run their two-day course. Anna had a meltdown when she found out, and the doctor in today explained that her boy is in great health, no problem, but once started, the drugs have to be finished. She will stay tonight and possibly tomorrow night, to be discharged Thursday morning.

But though she wants to go home, all she really cares about is holding him and getting to know him. She was in the ICU with him for hours today; I was allowed in too, as her official Other. (Yes, I know it's odd that her Other is her mother, but there you go.) In the ICU, you really see what could have been - in the incubators are perhaps seven extremely small, terrifyingly fragile-looking infants; a young mother sitting near Anna was holding what looked like 3 pounds of minuscule person with translucent skin. And next to her, my daughter with 9 pounds of pink sleeping boy. If there was ever a moment that made me want to give thanks - and those of you who follow me here know that I'm grateful really really a lot - that was it. Who knows what's ahead - but for now, he's a big, healthy bruiser, and soon he'll be going home.

His mother is floating on air, completely recovered from her ordeal of yesterday except for a certain soreness; she grabs the huge empty baby bump at the front and pushes it around. "Empty! I love how it feels!" she crows.
"I thought I'd be scared to bathe a newborn," she said, "but not this guy." After our time admiring and holding the sleeping babe - I got to hold him too, be still my beating heart - I took her for dinner - well, a pathetic bit of chicken from the hospital cafeteria, ye gods, say no more - and then left her, texting, awaiting 5 or 6 friends, looking at pictures of her boy on her phone, and preparing to use the breast pump. He latched onto the breast fine today, but will need a supplementary food source because he's so big.

I promise, once things settle a bit, that there will be other topics besides this on the blog. Though you may get sick of hearing about this wonderful child, so far, it seems that you're with me - usually, about 50 to 60 people a day check in here, but yesterday, there were over 100. The emails are crowding my in-box. Wonderful to hear especially from my father's cousin George Gordin in Washington, D.C., writing that in the pictures on the blog, he can see that my Anna looks a great deal like her great-great grandmother Anna Gordin, born in 1859, much loved by her 11 children.

Thank you, thank you all for your good wishes and love and enthusiasm. What joy, to share this time with you.

And finally, a big, big thank you, as ever, to Tommy Douglas.