Dad

A recent photo of Frances and me out back enjoying the shade.

Eric and Frances
Eric and Frances

Pride and Envy

My baby is better than your baby. There. I said it. Now, I know what you are saying. You are saying the same thing about your baby. And that’s OK. That’s what you are supposed to think. That’s pride, and that’s a good thing.

From the very moment I laid my eyes on Frances, the bond was set. I’m not talking that flimsy Elmer’s glue type bond. I’m talking the high-performance epoxy resin adhesive kind. I look at her and can’t imagine anyone’s baby being better than mine.

Did your baby turn on her side only after a few days of life? Mine did. Did your baby have the ability to hold their head up after only a few days? Mine did. Does your baby smile the cutest smile ever in her sleep? Mine does. Does your baby make you feel like the happiest dad on the planet? Mine does! (And if any of those are true for you too, then great, but don’t expect me to believe it).

I hope no one is really offended by this post. It’s all a little tongue in cheek, but sums up how I feel. Like I said, pride is a good thing. You are supposed to think your kid is better than everyone else. Don’t go getting a attitude towards people for thinking their baby is better than yours. Suck it up… everyone thinks their baby is the best thing since sliced bread. There is no reason to be mad about it. Why? Because your baby is better than theirs, remember? Duh…

Just not better than mine.

Poop

Fun fact: Babies poop… A LOT. But this wouldn’t be a story about Frances or Annie without some mention of tardiness.

Frances weighed in at 8.4lbs when she was born. When discharged from the hospital she was down to 7.13lbs. No worries, right? All babies lose a considerable amount of weight after they’re born. We thought all would be fine because Frances was latching on correctly, and really took to breastfeeding almost immediately. She was an instant pro.

The only problem was there was no poo. In the hospital everything was fine, but when we got home, Frances decided to have a bashful bowel. 2 days passed and nothing. We checked her diaper repeatedly for any sign, but she refused to give up the goods. We consulted the books and the internet to see if this was normal, but was dismayed to find that it wasn’t.

Luckily we had already scheduled her first pediatrician appointment. Side note: He is the same pediatrician that Annie had. Anyway… They weighed her and she was 7.10lbs. Uh oh… Still losing weight.

The doctor theorized that Annie’s milk was late coming in. Surprise, surprise. Annie late at something. The doctor didn’t tell us this, but we did our own research and discovered that a long or stressful labor could delay milk production. The doctor asked us to come back in 3 days to check her progress. We actually felt better because just that morning it seemed that Frances was sucking a bit differently and you could HEAR the swallows. Something we hadn’t heard much of yet.

So we got home from the doctor and no more than 30 minutes passed before we heard the sound. Something was going on down in her diaper. Upon inspection we rejoiced. Houston, we have liftoff!

I’ll go on record saying that was the last time I got excited about her bowels. That warm fuzzy feeling knowing our baby was okay wore off pretty quickly once her plumbing started working efficiently. The days have passed and I can no longer count the dirty diapers. They are many. They are legion. We are powerless against their number.

Her check-up day came, and no surprise to us, she had gained almost all her weight back!

Looks like we have a healthy, happy baby, and we love her immensely.