Weeks 3 and 4 - No such thing as an easy baby

Sorry Summer-girl! I missed a week.

Hard to blame me though, with the Holiday season and company in town. Finding a moment to give an update on these early days with you has proven more difficult than originally anticipated. Not to mention that my early hubris that you would be an easy baby is now being punished.

Yes. As some of the nurses warned me, Summer "woke up" as she approached her gestational intended birthday of Christmas. This has been fun in some ways as we've gotten to see more of her dinner plate big baby blues. However, her predicable and reliable sleep patterns went out the window with this newfound alertness. She still doesn't fuss as much as her brother did but what she lacks in fussing she makes up for in night-time, half-lucid, poo-grunts. This has been taxing on Kimbre and I as even with our trade-off at night system, chaining any reasonably long window of sleep together has proven difficult.

I love my kids but the first few months in the newborn phase are certainly hard. Christmas eve was as extreme of parenting roller coaster for me as I have ever experienced.

The evening was the top of the first hill. The candlelight service at the pretty Methodist Church here in Corvallis was a fantastic moment of family togetherness. Summer looked freaking adorable in her little Christmas dress, the first formal outfit we'd ever tried putting on her and I loved experiencing the magic of the season with my little family, looking forward to years of great Christmas' together to come.

The evening and night was a different story. Summer kept me up all night with her fussing. She was just impossible to please. Every time I thought I had calmed her down and I laid my head down to sleep, she would scream at me. It felt like she had a sensor on the couch that would shock her every time I laid my head down on it. Even little Jay got in on the mix with a bad dream demanding my attention at 1 am. Summer was still up then and crying as well, which left me juggling two crying kids and not enough hands or energy to get things quickly escalated.

As with most things though, I survived it and was rewarded with the unbeatable experience of Christmas morning with a 4 year old. Honestly, Jay's unbridled excitement and enthusiasm filled me with such a warmness that I would have endured a hundred tough Christmas eve nights just to experience it once.

Having kids is without a doubt, a sacrifice. In our case, it's a sacrifice we volunteered for, twice. The lows, at times, have left me feeling really down but the highs always seem to be just around the turn, reminding me how lucky I am.

That being said, I even need to cut this post short. Summer is crying again. I'll update with pictures and do some proofreading edits tomorrow (hopefully) when I find a free moment.

Week 2 - Chunk Levels Rising

Week 3 picture

Our little girl is growing! Her two week checkup went off without a hitch. The bit of jaundice she was showing in her early days has resolved itself and shes gaining weight at normal pace. She's still a tiny little thing but I can already notice the extra bit of chunk, especially on her hands and feet which were pretty much just skin and bones when she born.

Jay's fourth birthday party

I'm doing pretty well myself. I'm not going lie. I was really, really, not looking forward to having a newborn. Newborns are exhausting and although they are fun to hold, their interactions with you are mostly limited to random blank stares, fussy cries, and the occasional poo smiles. This was something that I really struggled with, with Jay. You love your new little baby but that love feels largely one directional until about a month and a half in when you get that first, real smile.

This time around though, I feel in control. The system Kimbre and I have set up has allowed me to be well rested and with Jay in preschool, we have more than enough hands around the house to manage an overall pretty chill little girl. In the late evening hours when I am watching her while Kimbre sleeps, I've even had a chance to indulge in some personal entertainment, be it playing video games, watching movies, or engaging in some good old fashion self reflection (the most indulgent hobby of them all!). It's nice. So nice that I even feel a little bit guilty that I haven't used some of the extra time and energy to pick back up on the various projects and deadlines I pushed back at work when I learned Summer was going to be coming early. 

Everything in time though I suppose. For now, we're in a holding pattern. Kimbre's parents get in to town tomorrow. After that is Christmas, new years, and the start of a new term and year in 2019. There is pleanty of caos to come. As such, I think I'm going to just take the next week or two to soak in the rare quiet moments I sometimes get as a new dad to a young family of four.

Week 1 - Fear, Relief, Love, and Happiness

Week 1 Picture

 Well, here we are. We made it. Summer has survived a whole week on this earth and Kimbre and I have survived right along with her. All in all, things have gone really well. We learned from our newborn struggles with baby Jay and settled into a routine early this time around. It hasn't been perfect, but it's gone a long way toward making this first week much more manageable than it was last time. I hope we can keep it up. It probably doesn't hurt that Summer is generally a pretty easy baby thus far. She doesn't get worked up over much, only really cries when she wants to eat, and is pretty easy to calm to when she does get upset.

 

 Still, there's no denying that the early days with a newborn are an emotional period. This time around, much of my cathartic process involves purging the residual dread from what ended up being a birth story characterized by a flash flood of terror, book-ended by a wave of relief and happiness. Yet, even a week later, I don't know if I've had a chance to fully process everything that happened.

 

As I alluded to in my last post, Summer caught us off guard by coming way too early. But in the event itself, the reality of how early she came was much more pressing. When Kimbre called me the evening before Summer was born telling me her checkup was running long and that I would need to pick up Jay from his preschool, I was frustrated at the prospect of losing a few hours on a relaxing afternoon I had been looking forward to all week. However, grim looking ultrasound techs and terrified doctors quickly replaced that feeling of frustration with one of deep fear and dread. On the phone, Kimbre was in tears and I had the terrible premonition that the subsequent radio silence from the doctors on what was going on until I "got to the hospital" was due to their need to relay the devastating news in person rather than over the phone. As things escalated, I don't think either of us really had a chance to process what was going on rationally. On my way to the hospital, I was actually preparing myself for the horrific possibility that we would lose Summer before we even met her. At that point, it seemed a higher likelihood to me than a happy and healthy newborn. Luckily, the doctors were wrong and she ended up being just fine. Still, I got a taste of an alternate reality that reminded me to be thankful for how things ended up.

  Honestly, how are you supposed to handle something like that? Having to bury a child you never even got a chance to get to know? From the moment I first heard her heartbeat, my destiny became tied to Summer's. To grapple with the possibility that I might lose her was unfathomable. My world was in the early stages of falling apart and I had no idea how I was going to handle it (or even if I could). I hope I never have to find out and my heart breaks for those people I know who have had to endure that nightmare. I would give up my life in an instant if it meant saving one of my kids, and I mean that in a completely literal sense.

Fortunately, Summer is okay. And I'm okay. And Kimbre is okay. And we'll all be okay. We even had our first family outing as a family of four to the carousel in Albany. It was nice.

 

 

 Ignore my dark tone thus far in this post. I have no doubt in my mind that I will look back on this first week with my little family of four as one of the best of my life. I will look back on it as something I miss when the kids are all grown and my best years are behind me. For now, the future is bright, my heart is full, and I can honestly say with a straight face that I'm truly, truly, happy.

Week 0 - My Little Sunshine

Happy birthday beautiful!

Three days ago on November 30th, 2018, my daughter Summer Mae Hardy was born shortly after 12pm at Samaritan Regional Hospital in Corvallis, Oregon. This was a bit of shock to Kimbre and me given that she arrived a full month in advance of her original due date. Still, it's hard to beat that overwhelming surge of emotion that comes with seeing your child take their first breath as they enter into the world for the first time. It's a kind of instant, unconditional love that warms every part of your body and soul.

Newborn picture

From my experiences raising Jay IV thus far, I've learned that there is very little that is more disruptive to a treasured and comfortable routine than the having to suddenly care full time for a newborn. One thing that helped me process all the joys, frustrations, and blink of the eye changes four years ago was the weekly blog I kept titled Fourth Time's the Charm (below is a link to the first entry in Jay's blog if you are so inclined).

https://4thtimethecharm.blogspot.com/2014/12/exactly-ten-days-ago-my-son-jay.html

This is the second iteration of that blog, this time dedicated to Summer. As before, my plan is to update at least once a week so I can use this platform as a sort of diary documenting how both she (and I for that matter) change and grow from week to week, month to month, year to year. I made it a full year with the blog the first time. Hopefully I can keep it up here as well.

First photo as a family of four

There's a lot that I could say about my experiences in these early days with Summer. But to me, one of the most interesting and unique things about her early arrival in this world is that it meant she was born on my birthday. It's kind of silly, but it means a lot to me that I get to share this special day with her, since I already get to share my name with baby Jay. Every year, for the rest of our lives, when November 30th rolls around, I will get to relive a sense of connection with Summer as we celebrate together.

Ready for the terrifying 10 min drive home from the hospital

Because it was my birthday, Kimbre let me pick her name. I had been lobbying for the name "Summer" for months, because I loved the irony of naming a little girl born on Christmas after the warmest season of the year.

Meeting her brother

However, my desire to name her Summer goes beyond a silly joke. I loved Summer as a name because of the way it makes me feel. For those that aren't already aware, the winters in Oregon are dreary, cold, and wet. However, for me, the summers here make it all worth it. They are filled with sunshine, long days, wine, light breezes, good friends, aromatic beer, colorful hills, waterfalls, blooming flowers, and sweet smelling air. They promise adventure, relaxation, and overall general well-being. In the time that we have lived here, the promise of summer just around the corner is what has kept me going through winters filled with seemingly endless darkness and grey.

The promise of who Summer can become makes me feel the same. I love her so much. I want the world for her. I want to enable her to be whatever she wants to be. I want to fill her with the same deep, enduring, love of life, that her mere existence provides to me. I want to dance with her at her wedding. I want to be there as she celebrates the fruition of a long strived-for life goal. I want to help her find happiness in this world. Like the winter, there will always be days of darkness and sadness in our lives. But at the end of that long road is the promise, like the promise of summer in Oregon, that before too long, things will get better. Summer is just around the corner.

God willing, I hope the same is true for my beautiful little girl. 

A long beautiful life filled with happiness and sunshine.