III

dear hazel,

i find it mildly ironic that i sat down at exactly 3:26 pm to write this letter to you, my 4 week old baby girl. 1 month of you, me, and your dad trying to figure out life as a family of 3.

over the past couple of weeks you’ve definitely found your voice. last night after we exhausted every option to soothe you, we let you cry yourself to sleep. hazel, you produced cries i didn’t know you were capable of! like the good girl you are, you had put yourself to sleep in less than 10 minutes. which felt like an eternity, i assure you. speaking of crying, it also seems you’re going through a growth spurt currently. lots of elongated feedings, extra feedings and early wakeups from naps. oy. the good news is that your night sleeping is really great.

in an effort for you to keep us on our toes, we had a pretty eventful week/end last week. you had been sounding a little congested and after our morning feeding on thursday where you had a hard time latching because of the congestion, i decided i should call the doctor. because you were so little/young, she wanted to see you that morning to listen to your chest. i immediately put you in your carseat, prepped for tears, and you fell immediately asleep. i didn’t think much of it at the time, but that was warning sign number 2. long story short, you tested negative for rsv and the flu. because of your lethargic behavior, trouble feeding and a temp you spiked in the doctor’s office, they had to admit you to the hospital for 3 days of antibiotics via iv. that’s right, you had your first (and 2nd, after the 1st blew) iv. they also threw in a spinal tap for good measure and a slew of blood work. hazel, it was awful. hearing you scream from down the hall while they put in your iv will haunt me for a long time. i felt so helpless and somehow responsible. three days and lots of tears (by you and me) later, we were released after all of your tests came back clear. virus for the win! oh and hazel? you were known on the peds floor as being very feisty. i can’t say i blamed you, being poked and prodded every few hours.

i’m not going to lie, the past couple of weeks have been kind of rough for me. i’ve had some issues breastfeeding, which leaves me in pretty much constant pain. however, you’re gaining weight and thriving (you left the hospital weighing 7 lbs 10 oz), so it’s something we’ll have to work through. to say i’ve been tested mentally and physically is an understatement.

i should probably mention your “uncle/brother,” beau. we can’t decide if he loves you or if he wishes you weren’t here and he could go back to his ways of sleeping all day. he HATES when you cry. like he’s visibly bothered by it. but it takes any chance he can to sniff you and give you a quick kiss.

you’ve lost some of your hair, which was expected. you have a very funny jack nicholson look going on right now. your eyes are still blue. i so hope you inherit your dad/great great grandpa smalley’s ice blue eyes. like i mentioned, you’ve been packing on the pounds and as of sunday were up to 7lbs 10oz. you’ve almost outgrown your “up to 7lbs” clothing, which is so exciting! you’ve developed these little dimples of sorts near the corners of your mouth that come out every once in a while. so cute. oh and finally…you do this absolutely adorable thing after you’ve eaten and are working your way to sleepytown. you smile, laugh and roll your eyes around in your head. that giggle (which is more like you just inhaling heavily while smiling) makes me want to eat you it’s so stinking cute.

you’re starting to have a bit more awake time, which is fun. finding a balance of the right amount of wake time before over-tired hazel happens is always a tricky balance. this makes me happy, though, because i love with you can have time with your dad. he just adores the snot out of you, p-nut.

that makes two of us, buttercup.