Bottle 60ml. He falls asleep and I decide to change him. Too much stimulation. He lays awake in bed until 6:20. I pick him up and put him on my chest.
- Dad's note in feeding log, Tuesday June 28, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Dad's Notes at 6 AM
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The Sleepig or Barnyard in a Bassinet
Our Amon Soleil has been home for 2 weeks and it is so wonderful to learn all about him and see his face any time of the day. I don't have to make an epic journey (including the requisite trip to the underworld with all of its cretins (ie the subway) with my precious cargo of frozen breastmilk in hand) to get to him. All I have to do now is turn my head and he's there, less than an arm's reach away in his bassinet.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The View from Here
We've been home together for just over a week, and I am so so happy to be home with Amon, and with Michael. Life is very simple, the weather has been beautiful, Amon is growing, we are getting to know him and he is so precious. It is such a privilege to be a mother, and share this experience with Michael who is such a loving father and sweet, supportive partner.
Here is a peek at the view from here.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
It's better here...
It really is. We love having him home.
Amon has been home for three days now. The most eventful change in our lives, in my opinion, has been our new colossal disregard for our circadian rhythms. The sun now rises and sets to Amon. His revolutions are not so gentle as mother earth's. Amon spins at a variable rate lasting 2 to 3 hours. In response to this hyper-condensed day-night-cycle, we are in the midst of serious time-management engineering. Our first innovation, the 'maternal-maintenance paternal nutrition episode'.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Eagle has landed.
Thank you Fran for getting the family home safely. It really, really means a lot to us. To everyone who has helped to make this day happen, I don't even know how to begin to say thank you. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Ready to go!
I can't believe it! Just waiting for MC to come and pick us up from the NICU. Wish us luck!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Heading home!
Can it be true? Can we be heading home already?! It appears that the answer is yes. Amon is due to be discharged from hospital on Thursday, June 9, 2011.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
One month today
It's been one month today that we've been in the Level 2 Nursery at St. Mike's... we arrived on May 4. I find it hard to gather my thoughts on this. I cope simply by taking everything day by day, and that means when a day passes, I let it go, and I try not to project into the future. That was the strategy I used when the crisis began in Turks and Caicos.
It was only a matter of time...
Day asked me to create a little personal name tag to adorn Amon's cot. I was more than happy to oblige. This is the first 'vanity plate' of what I am sure will be many.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Kids of hippie Kids
This baby's cultural heritage is a counter-culture heritage and he's wearing it on his sleeve!
A few facts on his ancestors:
-Jerry Garcia was Amon's grandfather's banjo teacher
-he is the product of a vegetarian pregnancy
-his mother grew up in houses that: had no running water; no electricity (or both); were solar; heated by woodstove (when solar failed); were at the end of dirt roads
-his auntie and uncle live in BC
-as a newborn, his mother lived on a commune in Sooke with a famous Canadian folk singer
-his dad wears Birkenstocks
-turning the compost will be one of his future chores
Thx to Diane and Amish for the teeshirt (word up to all the hippie kids out there and the kids of hippie kids!)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Sunshine
Today was a gloriously sunny day in Toronto. After a week of rolling fogs, misty rain, downpours and thunderstorms, the sun, finally shone, and it was brilliant.
Amon in the hospital means that he has never been outside. He doesn't know what a tree looks like, or birds, the sky, or the sun. I can't wait to lie with him under a tree, looking up at the sunlight through the leaves; plant his little feet on the cool grass; show him the sun-sparkles on water.
I can't wait for him to have a breath of fresh air, with Michael and I, together, in the real world.
Amon in the hospital means that he has never been outside. He doesn't know what a tree looks like, or birds, the sky, or the sun. I can't wait to lie with him under a tree, looking up at the sunlight through the leaves; plant his little feet on the cool grass; show him the sun-sparkles on water.
I can't wait for him to have a breath of fresh air, with Michael and I, together, in the real world.
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