thirty-three months

Giving me "one last smile".

Dear Lucy,

You've been really great since the little brother got here. The morning he arrived you woke up to me standing by my bed, low-humming mid-contraction, daddy standing behind me with his hands on my lower back. You stood quietly in the doorway of our bedroom, observing, seeming to know that something important was going on.

When Nana and Papa brought you to the hospital you couldn't wait to see him. You sat on the hospital bed with Mama, holding the little brother, and unwrapped his blanket slowly to peek at all his fingers and toes. You said his nose was sparkly, you said his skin was soft. And you said you didn't think that Nana or Papa needed a turn to hold him.

You've also been fragile, tears close to the surface, crying for even smaller things than usual. And you've been stuck to my side, following me from room to room; climbing on my legs, on my lap, hands and elbows in all my squishy places; talking unceasingly inches from my face.

The other morning I asked you to please get off the couch for a little while, to give me and the little brother some space, to play with your dollhouse or Piggy or your blocks. You looked at me seriously and said, "What did you like to do when you were a kid?" I'm pretty sure my favorite thing was also to get all up in my mom's space, so I guess that was a good reminder.

You are so sweet to Oscar, you like to hold him and snuggle with him; you are always up for helping to change his diaper, and always hoping for a poo. You like to help him with the mama milk, and you laugh at how silly he is when he tries to eat my arm instead.

You are proud to be a big sister. When Oscar looks at you, you tell me he is saying, "What a BIG sister I have!"

Piggy was lost at Nana's house for the last two weeks, which made me cry to think about, since Piggy had been your constant companion and practice little brother for the last several months. All four grandparents looked high and low, but he was gone. Then we kept misplacing your pacifiers, and one night we even lost Oddie, and I felt like a really terrible mother, so carelessly misplacing all key elements of your bedtime bliss at the moment when keeping a routine amidst all the other changes was so important. Ultimately, you proved resilient, adopting bunny, Zeke, and little bear for snuggling in Piggy's stead; then last Thursday cousin Titi found Piggy, stuffed into the underside of a bongo drum. You smiled to have him back, and have been happily changing his diapers and tucking him in and singing him to sleep for the last three days.

Sometimes I think about how you'll never have your parents all to yourself again, and I feel a little sad, but it is wonderful to watch you become bigger, become something new. You hold a place in Oscar's world that no one else can ever have. You are the big sister. And in exchange, you have someone who will giggle with you after bedtime and fight with you in the car; who will laugh at your parents with you; who will make you better at sharing and being patient and winning arguments; who will bear witness to your life.

I am so glad that you are my daughter.

Love,
Mama

two-week review

A lot has happened in the last two weeks! Things are definitely easier on the baby end with the second baby, since you kind of know what you're doing, but this time around you also have a toddler clinging to your every move (in her words, "i like to follow you where you go"), so I think it all evens out.

Highlights of the last two weeks:

• Calling the midwife at 4 o'clock in the morning, two hours after my water broke, and being told the hospital was full and we'd have to choose somewhere else to deliver.
• The hospital deciding they'd find room for us at the last minute.
• Arriving at the hospital with "the urge to push", and delivering Oscar twenty-five minutes later.
• Shaggy holding Oscar for the first time, and Oscar immediately grabbing a fistful of beard. 
• Lucy beaming as she met the little brother for the first time, and her exclamation when she held him: "His nose is sparkly!"
• Lucy not wanting anyone else to hold the little brother.
• Introducing everyone to the new addition.
• Beautiful sunny weekend weather.
• Lucy interpreting for the little brother. (He says: "I have such a good mommy!" and "What a pretty big sister I have!")
• Sibling snuggles on the couch.
• Oscar regaining his birth weight!
• First outing as a family of four, to the zoo.

friday cute shot

faces of Oscar at one week old

i heart yellow babies

Oscar followed in his sister's footsteps, developing the yellow tinged skin and eyes that come with newborn jaundice. Apparently Broughtons all down the line have had problems with jaundice, so even though there are no other risk factors (mismatched blood-type, bruising during delivery), our babies still need a little outside help to kick the thing.

On day 5, after daily pediatric office visits during which Oscar's heel was repeatedly pricked and squeezed, the doctor sent us home with an order for a portable biliblanket called a Wallaby. At-home phototherapy means that your baby has to be wrapped in a blue light and plugged into a wall 24 hours a day, but you can still snuggle with him and keep him at home.

Oscar's soul shines out of his bili-briefcase.

After 20 hours with the blanket, his bilirubin level was down by a point and a half, and 24 hours later it was down 3 more points. Oscar was pooping like a champ, so we got to send the blanket back.

Lucy still holds the title of Jaundice Queen, since she had to be fully re-admitted to the hospital and given tiny goggles for her space trip to a blue moon.

Lucy, fighting jaundice with her eyes closed.

friday cute shot

Oscar the Fig

Introducing:

Oscar Finis Broughton

Born at 7:21 am on Friday the 13th after 25 minutes at the hospital.

8lbs 9oz
21.25 inches long
Finis rhymes with Linus.

friday (the 13th) cute shot*

*slightly delayed

t + 9 days

Spicy enchiladas, pineapple, several long walks, two fetal monitoring sessions, and one round of acupuncture later, I am still pregnant.

I hope Figgy isn't trying to beat the record I set in utero.

he wasn't supposed to do that, but he had a wonderful time

Lucy has been telling a lot of stories lately, usually just to herself or her stuffed animals and we only get to catch snippets. But today she grabbed Shaggy's passport and asked us to sit down so she could read us all a story, and I tried to surreptitiously transcribe.

She's very experimental with language lately, sometimes going into complete nonsense sentences, so I didn't try to transliterate the parts that were completely unintelligible.

Her story below:

And one day, there was a man who lived in a little house near the forest
he often rode on a dinosaur
[??]
he felt very little lonely, if he wasn't supposed to do it.
the most story handsome all, that's when the pony began to wonder.
all for spring and autumn and winter and spring and Saturday, and Saturday.
[??]
a little man lived in a cottage nearby.
He did not do that.
If he wasn't supposed to do that in the name, he had a wonderful time.
and the closed book fairs, there's a small to listen to the book first, for rescue.
She always stays.
A Saturday a night day a fore day a soft day, he said.
And he sang a little yellow song.
[??]
She hadn't gone very far, if she didn't know that there was.

The end!

happy easter!

Lucy totally rocked Easter this year. She dyed eggs (quickly, and with a preference for yellow). After three hunts in two days she really got the hang of it, hunting down brightly colored plastic, eagle-eyed and swift.

She also rocked at various times a tutu, new silver saltwater sandals, a Swiss skiing headband, rabbit ears, and a gigantic smile.

Still pregnant.