As new parents, it's difficult to judge which of the many scary moments actually qualify as being dangerous. It is so easy to freak out about the littlest thing, all of which, of course, don't seem so little at the time.
For example, the very first night we had Calvin home from the hospital we found what looked like blood in his wet diaper (in his pee, for anyone who needs it spelled out for them). Anyway, I quickly became hysterical while searching for, and not finding, the phone number to the hospital pediatricians we had talked to just hours before when leaving the hospital. They had been hesitant to let us go home, wanting to keep Calvin for another day since he was born early, had the bilirubin issues, had had maybe one wet diaper so far (suggesting he was not getting enough fluids), and was still losing weight (because my milk had not fully come in yet). They only let us leave because we had promised to take Calvin to the pediatrician first thing the next morning. They even scheduled an appointment with our pediatrician for us. With that thought weighing heavily on my heart (and exhaustion and hormones playing star roles in this drama), I couldn't stop the tears and panic that quickly welled up and overflowed, blinding my eyes, choking my throat, and combining to make my search more difficult. I was sure that our baby was creeping closer to death every minute that ticked by while I looked and looked, not finding a single phone number in the stack of papers we came home with, looking again and again, desperate to save my baby. Bryan, who was much calmer and a bit appalled at my hysterical performance, calmed me down so that I was finally able to talk to the on-call nurse who answered when I finally called our pediatrician's number (duh!). It turned out that the reddish tint was very normal, just crystals called "brick dust" that usually pass with one of the first wet diapers; nothing to worry about. She instructed us to supplement his feeding with formula for the rest of the night (even though I was sure my milk had come in by that point). By the time we made it to his doctor's appointment 6 hours later he had gained all the weight he had lost since birth plus some, and, accordingly, received lots of oo's and ah's from the pediatrician.
The herniated belly button is another example. The discovery of his gigantic bellybutton wasn't so alarming - it was strange and a little concerning and warranted a phone call to the pediatrician soon after noticing it was growing abnormally, but no panic and tears and fear that he was dying. (Having the pediatrician's phone number programed in my phone eliminated a lot of panic in these "scary moments" that have occasionally tested us as parents.) But one day a few weeks ago while breastfeeding (and so not doing a whole lot that could get him into trouble), Calvin started crying and screaming like he was in serious pain. I looked all over for what was causing his sudden outburst - there weren't any cuts from the little razorblades that grow on the ends of his fingers and toes, no teeth pushing their way up through his gums, no mysterious bumps or bruises, everything looked fine... except his bellybutton. It often gets pushed out and inflated when he cries or fusses (or lifts his legs or farts, poops, hiccups, etc), but always it goes back in with a little pressure. But this time it was firm and huge and I couldn't push it back in, and he screamed every time I tried. This was alarming. Calvin cried and cried while I called the on-call nurse, waited for a Children's Hospital nurse to call me back, and then waited for an on-call doctor to call me back. Tears streamed down Calvin's face; I rocked him and sang to him and shushed him; eventually his sobs lessened, his little body shuddered though deep breaths, his little mouth in a serious frown, bottom lip pouting. But every time I carefully tested his bellybutton again Calvin would start back up with the crying. While waiting and waiting for a doctor to call me back, my imagination started to create terrible, nightmarish scenarios that involved me rushing him to the hospital for emergency surgery. I was genuinely scared about all the "what if's" my brain kept asking. Finally Bryan came home and I felt better - I didn't have to go through this alone (and Bryan calmly told me I was crazy to be so worried). Finally, finally the doctor called back - he didn't sound alarmed either and said we should try to calm him down, wait a little while, and then see if we could push it back after he's relaxed. He told us where to go if it didn't get better that evening. Within about 30 minutes of cuddling and eventually sleeping in Bryan's arms, Bryan was able to get it back in and Calvin was fine. No sign of pain since. No emergency. And, thankfully, his bellybutton hernia is mostly gone now, never having been more than an abnormal curiosity and a 2-hour scary moment.
Another example: The first time I saw that Calvin had scooted and squirmed himself, while completely swaddled, to the other end of his crib and around 90 degrees. I didn't sleep much that night. I held on tightly to our video monitor, looking at it to make sure he was okay at every peep and rustle that came through the speaker. My imagination again created terrible scenarios - what if he squirmed over against the side of the crib and got his head in a position that made it difficult to breathe and not be able to get out of and not be able to cry for help while we slept peacefully in our beds on the other side of the house. Or what if, while squirming around, he rolled over onto his tummy but couldn't roll back over onto his back because his arms were pinned against his body under the tight swaddle. He could suffocate. It happens. Calvin was almost 3 months old at the time and I had recently read that Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) is most common in babies 2-4 months old. My imagination told me that this could be bad, really bad. But of course he was fine that night and every night, and his exploration of his crib while swaddled and sleeping became a common, normal event. He's had a few face-against-the-crib-rails moments that looked completely uncomfortable but were otherwise harmless. We don't use a crib bumper and we've started to not swaddle him so much (he's old enough to not need it or want it as much anymore) and I now trust in his ability to survive his own squirminess - he's a strong kid.
And finally a couple weeks ago, just before putting him to bed, we found blood in his poopy diaper. We called the on-call nurse again (we're experts at this now). Calvin was acting perfectly fine and happy, no signs of anything else wrong other than the blood, so the nurse said to wait until the morning to bring him in to see the doctor. We did - Calvin continued to act like a happy baby, oblivious to anything wrong in his body. We discussed possible causes for the blood: allergies to something I was eating (most often dairy or soy), straining and breaking a capillary while passing his bowel movement, etc. We still don't know what caused the blood and we haven't seen any since and Calvin continues to act like a happy, oblivious baby. We'll continue to carefully investigate his poopy diapers, just to be safe, but my imagination doesn't torture me anymore with awful scenarios and we're pretty confident it isn't anything serious.
We've had plenty of scary moments in our first 3.5 months of being parents, none of which, thankfully, have turned out to be truly dangerous. We know too that we'll probably always have scary moments that pop up, and I doubt it'll get any easier, especially as he starts moving around with crawling/walking/driving... At least I'm getting better at handling them. :)
Anyway, Calvin is already 4 months old. He's seen 127 days, has traveled one third of the way around the sun, and has grown nearly 6 inches. Last weekend, he officially graduated into his 6-9 month clothes, though he still squeezes into some of his 3-6 month stuff. I swear his hands doubled in size overnight a few weeks ago, and went from random flailing/gripping/awkwardness to dexterous manipulation of each individual finger (sort of, anyway). His arms are still sometimes pretty random in their movement - he hasn't worked out shoulder control quite yet, but once his hands get ahold of something, watch out. His left index finger and thumb like to hold onto his tongue, sometimes at the same time his right thumb is trying to be sucked. I really feel like his left and right hands are battling against each other in a lot of things, and right now his mouth is prime real estate.
Calvin's 4-month doctor's appointment last Friday brought another round of immunizations and growth measurements. His dramatic increases in weight and length are leveling out, as they should - he's now 15 lbs 2 oz (65%) and is 25.5 inches long (75%). His bellybutton hernia is all healed up, and it looks like he's going to have a normal bellybutton. The reflux is still an issue, but the pediatrician said probably only for another month or so. Calvin sleeps through the night regularly now, and we very rarely need to go in to clam him down in the middle of the night (though his daytime naps are becoming more difficult). And he now pretty much eats only 4 times per day, about 7.5 oz at each breakfast, lunch, 2nd lunch, and dinner, and each meal about 4 hours apart. Three or four months ago, this seemed impossibly far away.
Bath time, 9 days old.
Asleep in my arms, 2 weeks old.
On a walk around the neighborhood, 5.5 weeks old.
And then all of a sudden somewhere around 2 months he makes a huge leap and becomes an alert, happy, playing, funny face-making baby (2.5 months old here).
Playing with his animals, 3 months old.
And now, exploring the great outdoors, 4 months old.
Since turning 4 months, Calvin has discovered soccer. Here he and Bryan are watching a World Cup soccer game on a Saturday morning.
And the dogs continue their babysitting jobs.
Calvin made a special painting for his dad at daycare last week, just in time for Father's Day. I think we have a future Kandinsky here.
On Father's Day, Bryan and Calvin spent a relaxing day together and played in the backyard for a while.
Bryan and I are really enjoying the 3-4 month age. Don't get me wrong, every stage of his very short life so far has been so incredibly special, but now it's fun. And we've got so much more to look forward to. In the next couple/few months, Calvin should start sitting up, laughing, rolling around, growing teeth, eating real food (we can start this any time now, but his main source of food will still be breastmilk until he's about a year old). And then crawling, walking, talking... I can't wait!
