One month

Yesterday we met a woman who was holding a very tiny little girl. But she was holding her on her side, and the baby was able to hold her head up just fine. She was obviously older than Henry. But they were almost the exact same size. Curiosity got the best of me, and I asked the woman how old her baby was. 4 months, she replied, saying that she had always been small for her age. She looked at my boy and asked how old he was. I replied 1 month. I'm not sure she knew what to say.

Yep, I have a chunky, fat little baby boy.

Henry is already stretching out his 0-3 month onesies. I never had that problem with Adele - she stayed true to her size according to her age. Much easier that way; on her 3 month birthday I switched out her whole wardrobe. Same with 6 months. Same with 1 year. But with my little chunker, I'm already thinking I'm going to have to bust out some 3-6 month clothes before he is 2 months old!

Henry loves to eat. He can easily eat every 2-3 hours and chow down. Sometimes he begs to eat every hour and STILL eats a ton.

Adele and Henry are very different. So far, Henry is a pretty good sleeper. And pretty mild mannered. And doesn't mind being in a wet/dirty diaper (I'm most appreciative of this at night). Adele was/is my daughter, and I'm hoping Henry is David's son.

Sometimes I don't think I'm cut out to be a newborn mom. I think I prefer the age that the kid can entertain him/herself and communicate what's wrong. I had almost forgotten how difficult it is to keep my goals of getting stuff done during the day with a newborn. If he wants to be held, I have a harder time cooking dinner. Or cleaning the house. Or anything else I want to do EVER. I had gotten used to Adele, and how I can get her to play or watch something while I work through my to-do list for the day.

Yep, a newborn changes things.

Sometimes I find myself with the feeling that I just can't wait until he smiles...or laughs...or sits up...or crawls...or walks...or talks...and then I realize that one month has passed by so quickly already, and my tiny newborn son has changed so much since he was born. I'm trying to treasure his tiny-ness and the goofy faces he makes while sleeping and how he fits so nicely in my arms and on my lap.

Newborns are special. I don't think I realized it with Adele as much as with Henry. Probably the shock of trying to operate on little sleep got the best of me, and the newborn and baby stages passed with the blink of an eye (which seemed as long as my naps were). This time around, I'm trying to be intentional about enjoying Henry and this tiny (or chunky) stage, while still giving some good attention to Adele (she's hard to ignore - she is 2 1/2).

I'm trying not to be bothered if Henry is fussy for no apparent reason and not wish that he could tell me what is wrong. I'm trying not to be frustrated with Henry being congested, keeping him from sleeping late night/early morning - consequently causing me to not sleep. Because the fact is, Henry is (was) small for only a little while. And there's something very special about newborns.

                                     

Happy one month, Henry.

Bittersweet

I was planning on writing about Henry today. It is, after all, his one month birthday. I posted cute pictures of him (and a few of Adele) on facebook, and was set to write about how he's been a pretty good sleeper, an excellent eater (gained over 2 pounds in 3 weeks!), and looks eerily like Adele as a newborn except the male version. Maybe I'll expand upon those details later.

This morning I found out that a dear friend in Costa Rica just passed away.

A little background: Laura Saborio was a half-Canadian, half-Costa Rican woman (though you'd never guess the Costa Rican part just by looking at her) who lived in San Gerardo de Dota (the valley that we used to live in) with Mario and their daughter Erica. Laura started a bakery a number of years ago, and every weekend would open up her deck to the community and tourists passing through.

It was mostly through this manner that we got to know her so well, as she fed us with creative lunches, pastries, cakes, pies, cookies, croissants, fresh juices, coffee, and the best cinnamon rolls I've ever had. While we enjoyed her goodies, we would chat about life in Costa Rica, our travels, books and movies, politics, and the latest community gossip. She was a vivacious woman, full of life, and extremely generous.

We thoroughly enjoyed bringing students, professors, family, and friends up to her bakery to introduce them to her and to her delicious food. Everyone who met Laura walked away feeling like they had just spent time with a good friend - because, that's how she made everyone feel.

Our four years in Costa Rica would have been a lot more difficult had we not had the consistency of Laura's friendship to rely on.

A few years ago, Laura was diagnosed with melanoma cancer. This came as a shock, since Laura was a pale-skinned redhead who always did everything she could to cover up her skin when in the sun. They never found the source of the melanoma, and she underwent a year long treatment that was really rough on her. We still visited her often, and were sad to see the treatment taking the joy out of her daily living. There were bad days and there were better days, and we couldn't wait until the treatment was over.

Laura decided to quit treatment a little early because she was tired (literally) of how it was making her feel. She bounced back to her peppy self, began baking again, and appeared like the encounter with cancer was finished.

Not too long ago, it became clear that the cancer was back. In full force. Laura was given a short amount of time to live. She took a trip to Europe with her brother, and then moved into the city of San Jose to receive treatment that would only ease the pain.

We talked with Laura a few weeks ago. It was a very good, meaningful, and emotional conversation. I'm not sure we did the best job of conveying to her how much she meant to us...but we tried. During the week after our conversation, Laura took a turn for the worse and became almost unresponsive.

This morning she passed away.

Though it was expected to happen sooner rather than later, I (as well as many, many others) am really sad to know she's gone. The valley and community of San Gerardo de Dota will never quite be the same.

Thank you, Laura, for touching so many lives and having such a big impact in such a small community. You will be missed.

This picture isn't the last time we saw Laura, but it was the last time we were with her while we lived in Costa Rica, a year and a half ago.

1 month!

So I mentioned I would be talking about my kiddos in this blog. Just so happens it's my cute little son's 1 month old birthday tomorrow! A good beginning for this blog.

Let's go back to Henry's birth. Why not? Now that it's been a month and my pain has subsided, it's fun to recount the day.

I was supposed to go into the hospital at 6:00am to be induced on March 26th. My parents were in town to take care of Adele while David and I were in the hospital. We all enjoyed a couple of really nice days together and we were feeling ready for the arrival of our son. Our bags were packed, the alarm was set.

And around 2:00am, I started having contractions. The real ones, that hurt really bad. They started out being 20 minutes apart, then shortened to 10 minutes apart, and finally around 3:45am, David was stirring and I told him "if you're going to shower, you better do it now - I think we need to get to the hospital".

By 4:00am we were in the car, experiencing the "get-to-the-hospital-in-the-middle-of-the-night" rush that many pregnant women experience but I never thought I would.

I know I was supposed to wait until my contractions were 5 minutes apart for an hour, but I figured they wouldn't turn me away since I was supposed to get there 2 hours later anyway. It didn't matter - by the time we reached the hospital, my contractions were 3-4 minutes apart. The hospital staff didn't quite know what to do with me. Should they admit me early under "induction" or check me to see if I was truly in labor?

We got up to a room by 4:30am and no one seemed to be too concerned to come check me. Maybe they thought I was early and was being dramatic about contractions. That could have been true; I can be fairly dramatic. Finally a nurse came in and checked me (after some kind but urgent words from my husband), realized I was dilated to a 6, and my contractions were practically non-stop. She got on the phone and the only thing I remember her saying was "I need help in here!"

After that it was pretty much a frenzy.

Because of silly computer work and the nurses' concern that I had an IV in me, I didn't get my epidural until 6:30am. I might have asked for the epidural 100+ times in those 2 hours. But after the epidural, life was good. I could have taken a nap! I never knew labor could be so good.

My doctor wasn't set to arrive until about 8:00am, so I was told to relax and not push until she arrived. No worries, I couldn't feel anything! Once she arrived, it was a matter of 8 minutes of pushing, and Henry William was born at 8:25am. 8lbs. 3 oz., 19 inches long, he was perfect.

Many thanks to my parents for taking care of Adele, for my husband who always knows the right thing to say and do, and for my head nurse (and church friend) Krista who took command and kept the frenzy in order during labor.

Blogging...Part Two

So I'm blogging again. I enjoyed recording our travels and experiences while living in Costa Rica, and contemplated the idea of blogging when we returned to the States. Then life took over, and blogging didn't become part of my normal routine.

I'm feeling motivated again.

I don't have more time on my hands, more wisdom to impart, more exciting travels to record. I simply have my thoughts.

I'm not really sure what this blog will consist of. Cute pictures and stories about my kids? Definitely. Reflections on moving back to the States? Perhaps. Fun crafty projects I'm working on? We'll see...

Somehow I feel it appropriate to share my favorite quote: "You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place." - Miriam Adeney

Maybe this will be the inspiration on which my blog will be based. More to come!