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Two Months Old The two month well-baby visit arrived and like a conscientious new parent, I tried to be prepared. I did an insane amount of research on vaccine safety and was still conflicted about the issues up until the moment the syringe was plunged into Etta’s skinny little thigh. My husband’s opinion was that vaccines were safe, and certainly better than the alternative, which was enduring the full blown illness itself. Etta received three injections from the medical assistant. He tried to be swift, but it broke my heart to see Etta innocently smiling up at him, and then suddenly screaming in pain. Blood spewed out of her leg as the first needle was withdrawn and I wondered if a blood vessel had been punctured. I had my bra hanging out of my shirt before the third injection was given, and as soon as it was over I put Etta to my breast for comfort. Breastfeeding is such a wondrous thing, because it’s not only nourishment, but nurturing, too. She calmed immediately, nestled into the familiar warmth of my bosom. Etta is now 11 pounds 14 ounces, and 24 inches long, pushing up her position on the percentile charts that pediatricians use to measure the growth curve over time. She’s not gaining weight as rapidly as in the first few weeks, having stabilized at a healthy height-for-weight ratio. She has almost outgrown the size 1 disposable diapers which are supposedly good until 14 pounds. Unfortunately I stocked up at a sale and have about 100 of them to use. I thought it would be a long time until she outgrew the size 1 diapers, but her petite derrière and thighs seem to have plumped up overnight. I’ve canceled the diaper service temporarily and will have Etta in the regular instead of newborn cloth diapers when we resume. Tummy time "Does she lift her head when she’s on her stomach?" the pediatrician asked. "Uh, I don’t know," I replied, "I always put her on her back. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?" He explained that for sleeping, yes, a baby should always be put down on its back. However, it was important to give Etta "tummy time" each day, so she could build strength in her neck and back. When we got home I placed Etta on her tummy on a quilt on the floor, surrounded by a few of her favorite toys. She lifted her head less than an inch before it crashed back down and she screamed. She couldn’t lift her head! How could I have neglected to overlook this developmental necessity? For the next few days I tried again and again to put her on her tummy, but each time she cried and flailed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. Eventually I decided to wait a few weeks before trying it again, knowing that in the end she’d roll over, sit up, and crawl when she was ready, both physically and emotionally. Transition to the crib When I returned to work two weeks ago I took the baby carriage that Etta had been sleeping in at night to the office, so she’s sleeping in her crib now. She looks lost in the expanse of it, but I sleep better without her in the bed with me. I’m still exhausted and worried about rolling over on her, and she seems even more vulnerable now that I know she can’t lift her head when she’s on her belly. I continue to sleep in the twin bed beside the crib in the nursery, as I can just pull her into bed with me for nursing instead of having to drag myself in from the other room six times a night. My husband waits patiently for me to return to him in the master bed someday. The great communicator Etta is a talker. She contorts her mouth, flares her nostrils, raises her eyebrows, and utters the most incredible sounds. When we say "hello" to her she’ll reply in a similar tone, "eh-oh." If we say "meow" she responds with "ee-yow." We’ve tried three syllable words, and she’ll reply in three syllables. One syllable, and she’ll reply in one. It’s absolutely astounding. She talks to her stuffed animals and toys, but prefers to talk to people because we talk back to her. In fact, I feel guilty when I don’t respond to her babbling every time, but if I did, I wouldn’t get anything accomplished. At work I attached a mirror to the wall across from her bouncy seat, so she is in essence talking to herself. She goes on and on, thinking that she’s chatting with another baby. I never imagined that my two month old would be so interactive, craving conversation. I thought babies didn’t babble until four or five months at the earliest, and that she’d be content to just sit around and observe the world until then. Her ramblings go beyond cooing, and my husband jokes that she’s destined to have her own talk show someday. I made a mental note to never turn on the Jerry Springer show when she’s around! |
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