Zoe is One Month Old

Dear Zoe,
I am blatantly stealing the idea for the “monthly newsletter that is addressed to the child” from Dooce. I would feel bad about this, but it’s too good an idea to let her have all the fun.

You were born just over one month ago. You were three weeks early, and you freaked everyone out. You, of course, were totally fine, and I’m starting to think that you came early just to cause a commotion. Perhaps it’s too early to start ascribing personality traits to you, but even when you were still in the womb, you had a will of your own. When we went in to get an ultrasound, the nurse had a list of shots she was supposed to get, and one of them was of your back, to prove that you weren’t attached to the placenta or something like that. She must have spent 15 minutes jostling and poking you, trying to get you to roll over, but you wouldn’t do it. She joked that you had a mind of your own, and that certainly seems to be the case.

Speaking of personality, in the first few days you were here, your Aunt Rose called you a dainty little lady. You rarely cried during that first week, you would just make quiet little whimpering noises and quiet hoots, as if you’d rather leave the screaming other, less well-mannered babies. (You have since gotten over this, and now you scream with the best of them.) Whenever anyone changed your diaper, you would cover your eyes with your hands as if you couldn’t handle that anyone would see you in such an undignified position. Even now, you still cover your face while you eat, as if you’re saying that you admit the need to eat, but you don’t want anyone to see you doing it.

In the last week or two, however, you’ve become much more interested in the world around you. Where you would spend all your time curled up as small as possible for the first two week, withdrawing from the world, now you stretch your arms and legs out and wave them around. You like to stick your legs straight up in the air. When you’re not sleeping, your eyes are always wide open, and you stare at everything with the same rapt attention, whether it’s my face or the ceiling light, or the blank wall next to your swing. In general, you don’t make eye contact with anyone, but in odd quiet moments, I’ve been able to get you to look at me for a few minutes at a time, and it’s wonderful. Your mom gets this a lot more than me, because you tend to stare at her while you’re eating, but that just means that when you do look at me, it feels more intentional. Even when you are looking at me though, it’s usually not eye contact - instead your eyes roam over my whole face, like you’re trying to memorize it for a quiz later. (”Okay, his nose is above his beard, but below his eyebrows…”) You also have an adorable sneeze.

While you don’t spend a lot of time making eye contact, you’ve been aware of our voices since the day you were born. I’ve noticed you sitting in your Grandpa’s lap, wiggling and waving your arms around, and then you’ll hear your mom’s voice and you stop what you’re doing and listen. You do the same thing for me, and it’s kind of funny to be sitting in the living room talking to someone, and then I look over, and you’re peering at me from your mom’s arms. Sometimes when we’re trying to get you to settle down, I take advantage of this by reading to you. I’ve watched you stop squirming and hold perfectly still so you can listen to me read a chapter from a book to you and your mom. It’s a really nice experience, and I’m looking forward to reading more books to you when you’re old enough to appreciate more than just the sound of my voice.

The funny thing about that is that Annie and I never really did the thing where we intentionally spoke to you in the womb. We just talked to each other like we normally did, and I swear the result is that you don’t listen to us when we’re doing baby-talk. I can get right in your face and talk to you, but if I’m using a baby-voice, you pay no attention. On the other hand, if I’m talking to your Uncle Sean across the room, I’ll suddenly realize that you’re completely focused on me.

Naturally, you have a lot of nicknames. When I’m holding you, I tend to just call you “baby girl,” or “Zoe girl.” Your mom says that she calls you “principessa,” though I’ve never heard her say that, and she was asleep when she answered me just now, so who knows. I have heard her call you her “Scot-let.” Your grandparents tend to just burble excitedly, or call you things like “dainty little flower” or just “granddaughter.” However, all of these names are frequently sprinkled with other nicknames like “frog-legs” or “sprog” or “Sprocket,” and your Grandma Amy (who has decided that you look like me) has called you “Nova Scotia.” People who meet you for the first time tend to call you “Oh-my-goodness-she’s-so-tiny!”

And you are tiny. You only weight 5 pounds and 5 ounces when you were born, and you dropped to 4 pounds and 14 ounces right away. You had some difficulty with breastfeeding at first, and we had to go see a lactation consultant, but once we did that, you got the hang of things quickly, and you’ve become a champion eater. That’s a good thing, because if you hadn’t managed to gain weight at the rate you did, they might have had to put you under the grow-lights because you were pretty jaundiced the first few weeks. You’re over it now, but looking back at the photos now it’s a bit startling. Even your eyes were tinged with yellow.

Other than the jaundice, you haven’t had any health issues yet. You seem to be a very strong and healthy little girl, who enjoys eating, and is steadily gaining weight and growing. You’re already noticeably larger than when you were born, and some clothes that were quite large on you two weeks ago fit you pretty well now. All the tests they’ve run on you have shown you to have good reflexes and to react the way you should to everything. We still need to have your hearing tested, given that your mom and your Grandpa Jeff have bad ears, but you can definitely hear, because you’re easily startled, throwing your arms up in the air in alarm if someone opens a door too quickly, or when something explodes on Battlestar Galactica. (Just kidding, you always sleep through Galactica.)

Your days this month have been spent with your mom. I stayed home from work for the first two weeks, but after I went back, you and your mom fell into your own little schedule. Most days, I wake up at 7am, and when I walk out the door, you’re lying on the bed in your mom’s arms, the two of you facing each other while you sleep. The two of you will sleep in until sometime around 11am or noon, at which point your mom gets up and takes a shower while you sit in your swing in the bathroom. After that, she puts on the Moby Wrap, and then the two of you walk over to the coffee shop, where you sleep and she reads a book or checks her email. Appearently you frequently startle people who don’t realize that the woman who was sitting across the table from them had a baby wrapped up on her chest. I have no idea what you two spend the rest of the day doing. Sometimes it’s shopping, sometimes you just stay at home reading and playing with baby clothes. Then I get home around 7pm, we make dinner (or more likely, get delivery), watch some TV, and your mom and you are usually in bed around 11pm. I stay up awhile longer, and come to bed around midnight.

You haven’t settled into a firm routine yet, but it seems like on average, you last about two and half hours between feedings. Most of the time, you sleep between them, and then you let us know that you’re waking up with the cute little noises you make - grunts and hoots and chirps - and if we’re not fast enough to get you, screaming. Your screams never sound like you’re in pain or you’re panicked, it sounds like you’re angry, like you can’t believe that we could let you suffer like this. If you’re not screaming when I pick you up, you almost always are by the time I get your diaper off. You hate having your diaper off. It doesn’t matter how wet or dirty it is, you make it sound like not having a diaper on is torture. I’ve learned to be quick with the replacement diaper because if I pause to get a new diaper after taking the old one off, you take that opportunity to pee. Again, no matter how wet your diaper was, you’ve always got an impressive reserve for just this moment, and I’ve frequently turned around to find you screaming in the middle of a small yellow lake, which means you scream even more because now I have to change your clothes too. I’ve never met a baby who hates being naked as much as you. Eventually I get you all done up again, and then it’s back to your mother, who manages to calm you down by giving you the one and only thing you want in this entire world.

It’s kind of funny, really. If you’re awake, you want to be eating. It’s the only thing you care about. You have your calm quiet moments where you sit with various people who come to visit you, but it’s never long before you realize that you could be spending this time eating, and that’s when the fussing starts up again. Usually, we pass you off to your mom, but sometimes she’s occupied or eating, or otherwise unable to immediately come fill your belly, and that’s when I try to work “Daddy Magic,” as your mom calls it. I have learned that there is only one things I can do that will reliably calm you down - I bounce you. You can be in the middle of screaming, and if I hold you in front of me, and quickly bounce you, you settle down immediately. You always make the funniest face when I do this, pursing your lips and creasing your brow, as if you’re worried that I’m going to drop you. Still, you seem to like it, and when you scream through everything else, I can always calm you down with this, to buy your mom a few minutes to finish going to the bathroom, or grab a bite of spaghetti.

When I started writing this, I jotted down a few notes, and I was worried that I wouldn’t have much to write about, because after all, you’re only one month old, and you spend 90% of your time sleeping. Looking back at everything I have written, though, I can see that I had nothing to worry about.

You’re an amazing little girl, and your daddy loves you.