For the past three months, Kayla has stayed home to take care of Kate. Her days have been filled with milk, dirty diapers, milk, naps and more milk as she’s essentially been a single parent during the weekdays when I went back to work.
After 12 weeks, it’s my turn. Our positions are now reversed as I’ll be home on baby duty for three weeks.
It’s been two months since Kate was born, and so far she’s a happy, healthy baby. We haven’t had that much time to screw things up, though becoming parents has certainly been an adjustment for both of us. There have been sleepless nights, poop-filled diapers and empty bottles.
These are some of the things we’ve figured out along the way.
Two weeks ago Kayla and I left the hospital, our family a little bigger.
I expected this to be terrifying, that we would want to stay in the hospital where helpful nurses were just a push of the button away.
On the contrary, Kayla and I couldn’t wait to get our fresh-faced Kate home and fall into a routine. I’ll be honest, we might have been just a little rude to hospital staff holding us up with our discharge because we wanted to hit the road.
I’ll always remember carrying Kate through the hospital lobby on the way out. Avoiding every bump on the drive home and glancing in the mirror with a wince every time I hit a Lincoln pothole. Carrying Kate inside, and saying welcome home.
These are great first memories. The first time Kate shit on me wasn’t exactly a great one, but I’ll cling to all of the memories I can.
I remember the day back in March when I sat down to write my first entry to this blog after learning Kayla was pregnant, that memory of writing from the couch in our living room to document the events leading up to a new life.
Tonight I’m doing something similar, but this time from a hospital room with the newest member of our family, Kate.
She’s the love of our lives, and this is the story of the day she was born.
This applies to all of our friends and family members, but specifically to those who may be inclined to visit Kayla and I in the hospital after B.K. comes. Early on in the process we set out to make a birth plan. This plan contains everything we want and expect at the hospital, from an epidural to the light level and music played during the delivery.
One aspect of this concerns you, the visitors. How to handle company at the hospital and thereafter can be awkward.
I mean, this post started with me professing our love for you, yet now we’re trying to figure out a subtle way to tell you to leave.
Rather than face the awkward conversation of explaining our desires in person, we decided to share our thoughts on the subject here. You know, like cowards.
Our most recent doctor visit was the week of Halloween. Maybe B.K. thought she would be funny and pull a trick, or maybe it was just bad timing. Either way, we were thrown for a curve ball when the doctor listened to her heart.
He looked concerned and asked if she’d been moving much. The heartbeat was a tad slow. Not absent, just not up to full speed.
We were assured it was nothing to worry about, that it’s common for their hearts to slow a bit as they grow. Nevertheless, a machine was brought into the room to track her heartbeat for 20 minutes.
After keeping the secret for a whopping five days, Kayla and I decided to announce B.K.’s gender with a bang.
We found out ourselves shortly before the Fourth of July. Given we always have a party for the Fourth anyway, that evening we decided to launch fireworks and smoke bombs in blue for a boy and pink for a girl to share the secret.