Monday, June 20, 2011
Its been a month since I woke up in labor four hours before my scheduled induction. After 24 hours of hard labor, and two hours of pushing out a 14 inch head, my beautiful, curious little son was born.
Collin Ron. An adorable, enormous hybrid of my husband and my father, Collin is, at four weeks, the size of a four month old. He’s not pudgy, so much as long, and I mean LONG. Long arms and legs, long torso, long hands and feet. He is starting to smile now, which of course causes his mama to smile back deliriously as if someone had just handed me a million dollars. Just as good is when he gazes into my eyes with his round, soulful orbs, seemingly trying to tell me something. His eyes are not the light, crystal blue that most babies possess. Collin’s are dark and arresting. They force you to stop and stare into them, as if they are going to tell your fortune.
He is a very vocal little guy, not so much in a crying way, but he has different grunts and sighs for every occasion. There are his eating noises, his sleeping noises, and his ‘I’m a little bored’ noises. They have been the soundtrack of my life these past four weeks. Today was our first day alone together, now that Michael has gone back to work and my step-mom returned to her rightful place in Minnesota with my father. There were a few “will it always be this scary??” moments, but overall, it was nice. Collin is a very patient soul, who puts up with his mama’s bumbling about while she tries to adjust to her new role in life. I’m lucky to have such a son.