9 weeks down and 4,411 to go (if Jude lives to 85)! After arriving back in CT following our relaxing vacation in the orange juice state, Jude began eating more. A lot more. Hourly, in fact, for prolonged periods of time. I noticed he’d stopped pooping so much and at the other end of his body, he seemed to be producing a lot more saliva.
Rabies?
Nah, just a major growth spurt, according to the lactation consultant at my new mom’s group last Friday. Luckily, the eating binge lasted only three days. Had it been one more, I may have been forced to result to formula!
Unbeknownst to me, the group Jude and I joined had already been in session two months prior to our arrival. That could have been why Jude was, by far, the smallest and youngest baby until Friday when the old group moved to a different time and a fresh batch of moms and babies arrived.
For the first time, I realized how much Jude has grown, particularly compared to truly newborn babies. Amazingly, I seemed to have forgotten how Jude also used to lie like a comatose lump, crying at times inexplicably and never interacting. One of the new moms sitting next to me had raccoon eyes and kept blowing her nose into a tissue.
“I didn’t want to bring the baby because he just cries all the time!” She explained when it was her turn to introduce herself.
I found myself reassuring her that at four weeks that’s what they do. Being the seasoned pro that I am, I added, “Don’t worry, because in just two more weeks he’ll be smiling.”
She nodded, sniffing, and then met my eyes to muster a semi-smile.
It was also during that hour, as I expertly bounced my cooing, smiling, blue-eyed babe on my knee that Jude’s diaper leaked the contents of his explosive poop, the color of massaman curry (mustard, very yellow), onto the crotch of my pants. I suppose that is the punishment for hubris.
Inconveniently, I didn’t realize what happened until after Jude was changed and I stopped by the gas station to break my dollar into quarters for the vacuum. I received some odd looks then caught a glimpse of myself in the glass of the beverage case. Not a pretty sight, especially on beige khakis.
The question most are asking at this point is, “Does Jude sleep through the night?” No, he does not. He’s a big, growing boy who likes eating at three hour intervals. However, Matt and I have established a “bedtime routine” in preparation for the three-month mark where Jude is supposed to start sleeping six hours at a time.
Each night around 8 or 8:30, depending on various circumstances, we dim the lights and draw a nice, warm bubble bath for Jude in his toddler tub that he’s already growing out of. We dine on oysters, sip glasses of merlot and play Enya to fully adhere to the relaxing mood (kidding). Around 9, we set Jude into the bed and, amazingly, so far, he falls right asleep. Maybe it’s due to the brandy we rub on his gums (kidding again) or the Johnson’s Sleepytime bubble bath, but whatever it is, he goes right to bed. Such a beautiful thing. I would like to say that Matt and I stay up to talk, but I no. We’re usually in bed by 9 too.
Monday, we met our new pediatrician, Dr. Patricia and her lovely staff. Previously, after bidding good-bye to Dr Glassman I scheduled Jude to see a pediatrician at the Norwalk Community Health Center. Upon entering the building, I began regretting ever calling. The waiting room was packed full of angry parents screaming at their kids to shut up and I saw one woman feeding her baby coca-cola (definitely not the doctor’s orders). I shuddered. Luckily, our insurance was declined so we left without ever seeing the doctor.
Dr Patricia, on the other hand, just opened her private practice after working for twelve years in Darien. Her office has beautiful murals on the walls and hand-painted butterflies. The nurse who saw us was wonderful, too. Comforting and kind, Maureen has eight kids of her own. She confessed that the two-month mark is the toughest time because “all the adrenaline has worn off” and you’re really tired. I agreed with her assessment, especially after experiencing days where I wonder, “Is this really my life now?” as I’m surrounded by smelly diapers, a dog with a yeast infection in two ears and a disorganized house, not to mention a cranky baby.
She measured and weighed Jude, complimented him on his disposition and beautiful blue eyes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if real life carebears and butterflies came streaming in through the door. A chart appeared and Jude’s length wasn’t even on the rainbow-like curve.
“He’s in the 99th percentile for height,” she explained.
One of her sons was in that percentile too. At 19, he’s now 6’5”. Could explain why Jude has graduated from the 0-3 month clothes to 6 months.
All was well until the topic of vaccines came up. Upon reading more about possible causes of autism (www.healthrecords.com) and Robert Kennedy’s letter on the cover-up by the pharmaceutical companies, I asked if we could space out the shots and separate the cocktails. In addition, I did not want Jude receiving the Hep B shot since it’s only transmitted via blood.
She listened patiently and agreed so Jude’s left thigh was shot up with the Hib vaccine to ward off a deadly bacteria and the right thigh received a dose of the diphtheria vaccine. Normally, diphtheria is given in a triad with tetanus and pertussis, however, the last two will be administered when Jude is four months old.
After the initial crying, Jude fell asleep and slept for about an hour only to awaken, crying in pain. Baby Tylenol did nothing to alleviate the distress and for the first time in his short life, Jude refused Big Boob. I knew something was definitely wrong.
As I changed his diaper, I noticed Jude’s left leg looked red and upon closer inspection it was actually quite swollen. Back in the car seat, back to the doctor’s office, back to paper-lined table.
After stripping Jude down again and examining the area, Maureen explained he was experiencing a reaction, which also included a nasty black-and-blue mark. I was in tears, watching Jude’s chin quivering before unleashing another torrent of sobs.
Luckily, the swelling went down as I alternated icing his tender thigh with Stop&Shop select frozen veggies and Trader Joe’s frozen sweet corn. By the time Matt got home, Jude was all smiles again, laughing and eager for interaction.
On another note, I now see how fast Jude is growing. It’s incredible, really. Laurel and Natalie visited on Saturday and were in awe of how much he’s changed. In another month he’ll be completely different again. Sometimes, when he’s sleeping I catch glimpses of my brothers in his face, other times, when he cries I see Matt or when Jude frowns I see Grandpa Dave.
The hardest part of his body to wash is definitely his neck because there are tons of folds not unlike that of a retracted accordion. Sometimes, Jude squawks like a bird then pumps his arms and legs accordingly. Jude doesn’t like “tummy time”. In fact, just last night he managed to turn himself over in the midst of rebelling against having to lie on his tummy. Other times, he’ll just surrender and lie motionless, like a hit-and-run victim.
I think that Jude is training me well.