Now that Oliver is ten weeks old, we've had plenty of time to get to know him and watch his little personality develop. And what a sweet little munchkin he is!
As I've alluded in previous posts, Oliver is the amazingly easygoing little boy that I was hoping for. On several occasions, Paul and I have poked our heads into his room to check on him sleeping and found Oliver wide awake gooing and smiling at the ceiling. He's just so content to be plopped wherever and left to his own devices that we sometimes feel guilty that we don't interact with him more.
But as great of a baby as he is, he does have a couple of quirks:
This little guy has got the smelliest bottom of any baby anywhere throughout time. And he has loads and loads of gas! We give him wind drops in his bottle, but they don't seem to make a difference. He dupes us at least once a day when we're convinced that he's filled his nappie only to find a squeaky clean little bottom when we go to change him.
When he really wants to, Oliver has got the loudest high-pitched scream ever. Thankfully, he is usually pretty easy to settle and really only cries when he's hungry or has a tummy ache or is a bit overtired and needing a little help to get to sleep. Even then, he rarely lets the evil screech rip, but holy cow, when he really needs to, he knows how to get quick results!
Ever since he was born, Oliver has loved to stretch out. It's no wonder really; as smooshed into my tummy as he was, I guess he was just itching to stretch out his cramped little body. But there was none of the curled up little fists and pulled up legs like most newborns. Nope, Oliver wants his space, lots and lots of space.
Getting Elliot to eat breakfast has become a bit of a battle these days. That's why it was so funny when Elliot hopped into Paul's chair and started gobbling up his daddy's cereal in great big mouthfuls when Paul left the table for something the other morning. And when Paul returned to the table, Elliot giggled and refused to relinquish Daddy's cereal. Gosh, that boy keeps us on our toes!
We might be like chalk and cheese and argue lots, but if you ask me who my best friend is, I'm quick to say my buddy, Aine. She and her mommy came over the other night for pizzas, and Aine and I splashed in the bath and watched a movie together. And any day she's going to have a baby brother or sister too, so I've been busy showing her all about how to be a really good big brother (or sister in her case!)~ Elliot
Since Daddy had to take a few days off working on the house, we all decided to take another trip to the zoo and this time we got to see the elephants do paintings, and I got to go on the horsey ride with Mommy. We also got to watch them feed the great big crocodile, but he jumped out of the water and snapped up his dinner faster than Mommy could get a picture. ~ Elliot
Since we've already got two awesome kids and we're really too old to consider having any more, Paul volunteered to go under the knife and get a vasectomy last week. He was a bit uncomfortable for several days, but thankfully it wasn't quite as bad as this:
This is the story about the day you were born, Oliver. What a happy happy day it was! And it turned out to be a bit exciting too!
I'd been expecting you to arrive for days. Every night I had these funny practice contractions and your Daddy and I would go to bed hoping that the next day you would decide to join us out in the world. But every morning, the contractions were gone, and we knew we'd have to wait a little bit longer to meet you.
The day before you were born, my back was really sore so we all decided to go for a swim. Reuben and Wilson joined us and we all splashed and played, and I kept it to myself that I was really beginning to think that you were on your way.
That night I started having regular contractions that continued all night. They weren't very strong but strong enough to keep me awake most of the night. By six in the morning I was really tired, and the contractions were beginning to get a bit stronger. I hid away in bed most of the morning while Daddy played with Elliot. He was worried about me and my tummy ache so I tried really hard to be brave.
At around ten in the morning we called Nana, and she and Grandad come to the house to be with Elliot so that Daddy and I could go to the hospital. When Daddy called the hospital to let them know that we were on our way, we found out that the private ward that we had planned to go to was closed! They hadn't had any patients over the weekend, and since it was a public holiday they decided to close the ward to save on staffing. You can bet that Daddy and I weren't pleased to have this little change of events, but what were we to do? So we headed over to the public ward with hopes that we would be able to convince them to open up the private side where your Daddy would be allowed to spend the night and the rooms are all private and much much nicer. But we'll get back to that.
Once we got to the hospital, the contractions got much less regular. In fact, some of them were over 20 minutes apart. But they didn't hurt any less! I kept asking the midwives for an epidural or any kind of pain relief (I wasn't going to try to be tough like I was with Elliot's birth and then be so out of it afterward that I couldn't enjoy it as much as I would have liked), but they told me that I wasn't in established labour yet and that I really needed to wait for an epidural. They did give me a shot of morphine, but to be honest I didn't notice. The contractions might have been far apart but they hurt like crazy!
After lunch, another midwife came on staff, and she was really really mean. She put the monitor pads on my belly, and when they didn't register my contractions as being strong enough she wrote me off as being a baby and didn't want me to waste her time. I tried to explain that she put the little pad thingies way up high on my tummy and I didn't feel anything up there. Everything I was feeling was really really low and in my back. But nope, she thought I was a wimp and told me that I needed to suck it up because I had hours of labour in front of me. She even told me that I would be better off if I went home.
We didn't listen to her though, I knew that something was happening! Okay, to be honest I really started to doubt myself the way everyone was saying that I had a long way to go, but I should have listened to my body and been more confident in trusting my instincts. (There's a little built-in lesson for you, Oliver!)
At about three o'clock, the doctor stopped by in his cricket outfit. He was a bit more sympathetic, but essentially said the same thing--lots more labour in front of me, maybe I should head home. Luckily for us, he suggested that he do an internal exam first and maybe do a cervical sweep to try and help speed things up.
I happily agreed but said that I had to go to the toilet first. While I was there I had a super long contraction. I don't want to scare you but it hurt really really bad and there was a lot of blood that gushed into the toilet. I called out to the doctor, but again he didn't think there was much to worry about. He told me that it was just my mucus plug which is a kind of gross thing that came out of me in the wee hours of the morning.
I finally made it back to the bed where Dr. White did the internal exam and found that I was 8 cm dilated. He had a bit of a laugh and said that it was a darn good thing that we decided not to go home since we probably would of had you in the parking lot. He also said that I could finally have my epidural. I might also add that everyone started being much nicer to me at this point and taking me much more seriously!
They quickly called for an anaesthesist and started walking me down to a labour room. (I hadn't even been let into a proper room before this just a grubby little room that they use for antenatal checks!) On the way down to the room I started having urges to push but I sucked it up and waddled to the room hoping that I could get my epidural before then. (Alright, I'll be the first to admit that I was a little bit obsessed with the epidural, but you know me, once I have something in my head . . . )
While I was walking down to the room, your daddy had run down to the parking lot to get me my nightgown because I wanted to have something on that opened down the front so I could cuddle you right next to my skin when you came out. It's a good thing he ran because everything happened really really fast and he almost missed your arrival.
I had just got to the room and was being helped out of my clothes by the midwife (who was now being so incredibly kind and gentle to me) when my waters broke in a bit of a gush. Then there was no stopping the urges to push. Luckily, your daddy ran into the room right when my waters broke. Too bad that there was no time to change into the nightie that your daddy had run to get, and there was no time for Dr. White to change out of his cricket uniform either.
I remember pushing through a couple of contractions and then saying that I couldn't do it. They had a laugh and said that your head was already visible and one more push and you'd be out. That's all the encouragement I needed. Next contraction, I pushed really hard and you came out in a whoosh!
And holy cow! You were one really big boy! You had a head full of black hair and you were so so beautiful. Your daddy and I cuddled you tight while the midwife and doctor got you and I cleaned up. I remember being obsessed with your little hands, first because they were a bit grey and I was worried about you and later because you had the most beautiful long thin fingers. I still love playing with your hands.
Your daddy, you and I were having a great time cuddling and getting to know each other when we got the fantastic news that they decided to open the private ward and let us all spend the night together. We were so so happy! The midwife wheeled us over to the other side of the hospital and your daddy drove home to tell Elliot the fantastic news that he had a little brother and to show him some of the first pictures of you before he went to bed.
The next morning, Daddy went home to bring Elliot for a visit, and I was so excited to see his reaction when he saw you for the first time. I'm sure he was really happy to meet his little brother, but to be honest he seemed a bit more fascinated with all the buttons by the bed.
So there it is, my little sweetie pie, the beautiful story of how you came into the world. Our family was pretty fantastic before you arrived, but now it's just perfect.
My boys treated me to a lovely pancake breakfast for Mother's Day. Who knew that Elliot was such a natural in the kitchen. According to Paul, he even tasted the batter to make sure it was just right. What a conscientious little chef!
I know that I'm probably extremely biased, but isn't this kid one of the cutest babies ever?!?!
Hi folks, Oliver here. Since this is my first time blogging, I really hate to whine. But seriously, Mommy, you must have been kidding yourself when you bought me a swing with the hope that it would substitute for your warm cuddly arms when I'm feeling tired and really want to be held! Sure I like the swing fine most of the time, but when I want to be held, I want to be held not swung back and forth by some cold, lifeless contraption! ~ Oliver
Thanks Gramma, Grumpy, Uncle Ryan and Auntie Jen for the awesome PJs. Mommy just loves them and tries really hard to have us wear our matching ones whenever possible. Mommy, hopefully you'll get this little matching outfits thing of yours out of your system well before we reach our teenage years! ~ Elliot
