Olive gets swaddled by Mom and Dad
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Welcome little Olive

You arrived in a hurry, and it’s ironic, since you were at that point a few days late.

A sleepy newborn, dark hair, little legs that curl up to your bum just like they did  inside me.

You are still new, three weeks old. I think I got some real smiles this morning. The way you cry out in hunger is starting to differentiate itself to me from the cry that indicates pain, though I still find myself pausing to ask “What do you need from me?!” on a regular basis (usually while you wail in my arms). You have gained two pounds since birth, which explains the numerous hours we have spent attached and cuddling for feeds at all hours of the day and the night.

 

Harry meets baby Olive for the first time
Photo Credit: Wanderlust Photography https://wanderlustphotographyca.pixieset.com

 

Mother of Two

No one ever told me how hard it would be to avoid making comparisons between you and your brother.

Did he have this much gas?

Did he feed in these abbreviated, repetitive sessions at this age?

Does the fact I can’t recall any of these things support the likelihood that I’ve simply, in fact, blacked out entire portions of my original initiation to parenthood, and I will this time around also?

Tiny Personalities

Your Dad suggests that the drama surrounding your birth may be suggestive of your character (the idea being that your brother arrived in a somewhat dramatic fashion, and is, on occasion, rather dramatic, though being two years old may be a more likely explanation). You arrived in a textbook fashion, little trouble, and minimal followup required. In the two weeks that followed you fed, slept, carried out the typical newborn body functions.

Looking at you napping contentedly in your carrier or snoozing on a blanket while your brother played so nicely, he occasionally kissing your forehead in a theatrical and exaggerated fashion, I’d think “I am so good at this parenting thing”.

Maybe you are just content?

Maybe you are still just sleepy and new.

 

Brand new Olive snoozes in a hospital bassinet
Photo Credit: Wanderlust Photography https://wanderlustphotographyca.pixieset.com

 

You are not so sleepy in the moment as I write this, and we ocassionally have full hours of enjoying you awake and at attention (followed by the dreaded “overtired” status, requiring a swaddle, pacifier and white noise to rectify).

Your main complaint when irritated is stomach bubbles, and you can pass gas with a force that has multiple times prompted me to ask your Dad if the sound I just heard was you or him. Your main interactions with us as a result of this have been tummy naps on our chests, and “bicycle rides” to pump some motility into your little tummy.

Letters to Olive

I started this blog as a way of writing letters to Harrison, your brother. Many of my previous posts directly address him, but I want to you know that they are for you also. In my first post I talk about things I love and appreciate, and the joyful memories we will create. In “A Little Like Me”, I talk about my desire to raise good people (you included).

 

Olive in her hospital bed
Photo Credit: Wanderlust Photography https://wanderlustphotographyca.pixieset.com

 

Your brother takes my time too, and I’m sorry your cries had to wait yesterday when he was being put for a nap.

I’m sorry for the board-book you accidentally took to the forehead when the two-year-old got overly enthused about a certain “little blue truck”.

I’m sorry you don’t get my undivided attention as he once did, and that my patience may not stretch as far as it used to.

The Chaos Continues…

I look forward to the weeks and months to come. I want to know you as well as a know myself, your Dad, and Harry. I want to watch your relationship with your brother develop and grow. I hope I can support your needs, and never leave you doubting your worth. I hope you know happiness and joy, and you navigate this complex world with success and satisfaction.

We’re still getting to know each other, but I sense good times ahead.

 

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