The duration of my labor coupled with a last-minute c-section seems all but a memory now. After all, when I hold all 11 lbs. and 6 oz of James Robert in my arms, I can't fathom him fitting in my belly. I also can't fathom our lives without him.
Paramount and perhaps indicative of the joy he has brought to our lives, Mat and I reflected to each other a few days ago how much laughter we have shared since James Robert came into this world. He is our light and life- he has brought tears of joy and induced tears laughter. A few memories stand out:
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| exhibit A |
The morning after his birth, I was still practically immobile in the hospital bed so it was Mat's opportunity to change his first diaper. I looked over just in time to see a panic flash across Mat's face- a combination of all bodily fluid was flowing from the bassinet. Deemed a code red situation, Mat furiously buzzed the nurse into the room for assistance. It was all I could do to not bust a stitch with laughter as he listened to the nurse with laser-like focus for instructions. That moment proved my first inkling of what an incredible father Mat is.
While in the hospital, we were introduced to James Robert's colorful personality. Purple crying, as we call it, was terrifying at first. During one of those episodes, a nurse gingerly picked him up, patted him on the back and chuckled under her breath that we had "one of those babies". Once we got over the initial concern of thinking he had stopped breathing, we realized that he just has a temper. The boy wants what he wants when he wants it. We have laughed innumerable times about where he may or may not get that from. Jury is still out. The joke continues.
Once we came home, James Robert proved to be a party animal. Like a fraternity boy during Little 500, he slept well into the day only to become lively [read crazy] at night. We devised a plan to work the night in shifts. Mat would take 7pm-1am and I would take 1am-7am. Divide and conquer we thought! I was roused from a semi-sleep one night by singing coming from downstairs. It was Mat, walking laps around the first floor singing "all the burping babies" to the tune of Beyonce's All the Single Ladies. Lyrical genius, perhaps not, but forever a memory. Moral of the story, anything is less painful [including the hysteria of a newborn] when put to song.
Countless moments have been punctuated with the alarmingly adult-like flatulence of James Robert. It is with both marvel and pride that Mat encourages him to perform his baby duties of eat, sleep and poop. Coupled with the audible cue, there are facial contortions that provide a warning of what is to come that have us in stitches [exhibit A]. We have never had to worry that he isn't having enough dirty diapers and there is no shortage of laugher to share over bathroom humor.
Motherhood has proved to be a survivor sport. Without detail needed [this is a family blog after all] I would like to note that no one could have prepared me for the demands of feeding an infant. We have had a few if-you-don't-laugh-you'll-cry moments in that department. Case in point, is facetime while I'm learning to nurse really the best timing? Modesty and motherhood are not synonymous as I've quickly come to learn.
Beyond the first-month jitters that accompany new parenthood, we have survived and perhaps even thrived through the perpetually bleary-eyed status bestowed upon us. With laughter, and a immense appreciation for god's blessings, we look back on this first month with fondness. If laughter is the best medicine, James Robert is sure to bring us healthy abundance.
