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Wednesday, Aug. 17, 2005 | ||
What do you think of this story? | Samuel Obed (2 of 2)
By JEAN SATTERTHWAITE WHITHNELL Dave and I were with our older daughter Mary on a long driving vacation in Sardinia. Jeans baby was due late in September, 2003. As we drove along the incredibly wild coast of that Mediterraneian island, Marys cell phone rang. We had missed being present at our first grandchilds birth. Samuel Obed was not concerned about calendars or holidays, and came on his own schedule . Jean continues her story: It was a long, long time before I could see you again. I was moved down to another room and given pain medication. I woke up later at night, about 1 a.m., and realized you had not been brought to me. I called the nurses' station. "I only had a chance to nurse on one side," I told the nurse. "You want to see your baby, don't you?" she asked. Oh do I, I thought. I want my baby! The hospital had many standards for safety, including matching your wristband to mine before handing you over. Then I sat there holding you in those early morning hours, just you and me. How sweet your head smelled, how marvelous to see those eyes. Oh my precious baby boy, did you know how much you were loved? So many months I thought about everything I put in my mouth, how I moved, what I did. How would this affect the baby? I noted your moves and when you were active and looked forward to every visit to Dr. Akbar to be able to hear your heartbeat. How strange, now that you were no longer within me. I missed that presence. The hospital room itself became a bit of a refuge to me. For some reason, I didn't feel like I could leave. The hospital staff had me tracking information about nursing and diaper changes. If you were in the room with me, you were either in my arms, or your Daddy's arms or in a clear bassinet. You were to stay in my sight at all times, so if I were to go to the bathroom, I had to pull you along, so your bassinet was just outside the bathroom door where I could see you. For me to shower, you had to go back to the nursery . The nurses gave me some instruction in your care and (finally!) in nursing. Your "first" pictures weren't taken until we were ready to take you home. We used both my camera and your Dad's digital, and even got a picture with you and your grandmother Withnell. I even delayed our departure by a few hours. Somehow, I knew reentry would be difficult, and when I was given the option of staying into the afternoon, I took it, even though that took some rearranging on your Dad's and grandmother Withnell's part. It was so hot when we left the hospital! The nurses had complained that the room I was in was too cold, but I just appreciated snuggling under the blankets with you held close. The contrast in going out in all that bright heat was unbelievable. The hospital had a staff member stay with me all the way until you were in your carseat and I was in the car with your Dad and ready to pull out. When we got home, both your grandparents Withnell were there. Our air conditioner wasn't working that well, and I'm sure they thought I was crazy about insisting on keeping a cap on you! (This cap became an ongoing struggle with you over the next stretch of time, and eventually, you won; the hat stayed off.) I had a cradle set up for you, over next to the windows (a safety concern, that later got changed before you became at all mobile.) I don't remember much about that first day at home, although I do remember your grandparents proclaiming that you were getting lots of exercise when you cried. That night, though, was quite difficult. By now, you were more active, and not at all happy with all the changes and being out in the big world. Because you were small, I needed to nurse you quite frequently. It seemed like we would have you well situated, we'd put you down, and after just a few minutes, you were crying again! About the only thing I remember "working" in that first night was getting you rightly swaddled. Although we had kept you wrapped in blankets, that hadn't been tight enough for you. We got out the book "What to Expect the First Year," and followed the directions step by step until you were properly swaddled. That seemed to help, but we got very little sleep that first night. After that, it mostly seemed like it was just you and me in the bedroom. Your Dad must have been around, but I just remember the long nights, of the quick reads of various pamphlets and references on nursing. You had all the marvelous hair, even on your face and back, a kind of soft blond fuzz with the a hint of red to it. I was a little nervous dealing with the little stump on your belly button, and the wound for your circumcision. I wonder of the Jews have it right, waiting a few days before doing that cutting. I was so concerned that it was hurting you when I changed your diapers. Also, the books warned against giving you a proper bath until after the little post on your belly button dropped off. I gave you sponge baths, using a pink hospital basin and wash cloth. This led to the discovery that I could rub the top of your head with a wet wash cloth to keep you awake all the way through a feeding. I also found that bouncing you a little and singing Americana hymns helped keep you going too. I quickly discovered that the pink hospital basin made a great place to keep all the diaper paraphernalia including the diapers, wipes, a pen for logging your eating and changing, a changing pad to put on the bed, and the petroleum jelly and gauze pads for your belly button. My mom later described you as looking like your skin was way to big. And it was oddly translucent, made even more so by the total lack of fat on you. We had fun looking at your tiny, tiny hands, and got the requisite photos of you holding onto our fingers. Your ear lobes were just tiny flaps of skin. Because you were born so early, they were not fully developed and "stiff." We made it through our first week together. When we took you in for your one-week checkup, your weight had dropped to 5 pounds. It is not at all uncommon for babies to lose weight over the first week or so, while you adjust be being home and take advantage of the immune-system-boosting benefits that come before Mom's full milk comes in. I actually looked forward to the different doctor's office visits -- they were always reassurance to me that you were doing OK and we were doing the right thing . And so they were, doing the right thing, and have for two years now. Oh, and did I mention, we have to find a U name for a baby due about Jan. 15? Its gender is not yet known, but its grandmother will certainly be there . | |
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