two months

Dear Matthew,

To say that your second month was challenging would be putting it mildly. Your immature little system has been giving you a lot of pain, and I've reached my wits' end trying to comfort you. I was right in my suspicion that you were suffering from a bad case of acid reflux. After a diagnosis from the doctor, we've been dosing you up on an antacid and cereal-thickened bottles, both of which have helped. But there have still been many tears, from me as well as you. Judging, however, by how your good moments are starting to outnumber the bad, I think that, though we are not out of the woods yet, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

You've done a lot of growing this month, and this growing has helped you begin to "do your nights," as the French would say. A seven hour stretch is not uncommon, and you often sleep longer. You only wake once at night to eat, and I can't tell you how much more manageable (both physically and emotionally) that makes my days. You're also inching your way toward a daily routine, which has been helping me to find my own new normal. I still adore your golden blond hair, which, unless it's just baby fuzz subjected to high humidity (which it very well could be), may be showing an inclination to curls.

You have started to smile, but not spontaneously. I have to keep reminding myself that your delay in doing so is not so much because you are unhappy so much of the time but rather because you were born so early and will likely take a little longer to reach certain milestones. But when it comes, as the little previews have proven to me when I play with your bottom lip, it will be glorious, not only because you are adorable, but also because it will overshadow so many of your unhappier moments.

Your personality is starting to blossom. You love everything about taking a bath, from the sound of the filling tub, to the feel of the water on your skin, to the drying off and rubbing of talcum powder over your body. You love to lie on your tummy, and a good swaddle still melts away some of your sadness. And unlike your big brothers, who didn't seem to care one way or the other, you simply cannot stand to sit in a wet diaper.

I'm looking forward to seeing what your next month will bring (and, I won't lie, getting closer to that light at the end of the tunnel has an incredible appeal). Keep practicing your smile, though some days even a look of contentment will suffice. Remember, though, that I love you indescribably, whether you are happy or sad.

Love,
Mama