Eric fussed for Uncle Scott, and the movie wasn't as good as we had expected. But it was nice to go out, and Scott seemed cheerful about having spent his 2 1/2 hours with Eric trying one thing after another, each of which settled the baby briefly.
We've now had three fussy evenings in a row. At Quaker meeting yesterday, when I mentioned to my pediatrician, Mari, that he had started fussing in the evenings, she said, "How old is he?" and when I said, "eight weeks," she nodded sagely as if to say, "That's the age, all right." One of my books also mentions the two-month-fussies (my name for it) and offers the helpful suggestion that we "try to figure out what the baby needs." Wouldn't have thought of that on our own.
Last night, Eric got started fussing late, not until about 7:30, and finished up early--at 8:30 he was contentedly sucking a bottle, after which he went to sleep. In the interim, David had the brilliant idea of giving him a bath. I thought, sure, why not, probably won't help, can't hurt. Well, Eric loved it. After David washes Eric, he always gives him a little time to just be in the water, holding his head and letting the rest of him float. Last night Eric stayed in for a long time, and he was really into it, waving his arms and legs around excitedly, gazing up at David adoringly, and repeatedly making his almost-a-smile face.
In the middle of the night last night, David woke up to find me sleeping with my back to him and no baby between us. "Where's the baby? Where's the baby?" he cried, startling me awake. "Where's the baby?" I thought. The baby was, of course, right where I had left him, schnuggled up to my breasts. David had not seen that the bed rail was up, and hadn't realized the baby was on the other side of me.
Eric has an umbilical hernia, which means he has a big bulge around his belly button. It's perfectly normal and self-correcting in most cases, but it's been worrying David, so I promised him I would ask Mari about it if I saw her at Quaker meeting. I made sure to chat with her about other things first. She's about four months pregnant and had bad morning sickness, so I asked her about that. She's feeling some better. Then I said, "Do you mind if I ask you a pediatrician question?" I wouldn't ask her anything that required an exam, or immediate attention (like, "Do you think this cough is pneumonia?"), but she seems more than happy to check in once in awhile. In the past, she has even volunteered pediatrician info. So I told her about the umbilical hernia, and asked if there was any reason I should bring him in before his regular check up in two weeks. "Nope," she said, "perfectly normal, will probably heal itself by 18 months or so." I said, "Well, David was worried about it. He said he thought there was nothing but a layer of skin between Eric's intestines and the outside world." Mari said, "Well, that's probably true, but the opening is only about 2mm." She then encouraged us to press the bulge in and feel the hole. "It's kind of fun to play with," she said. I'll take her word for that.
I am wanting to participate in a Spiritual Formation program through my meeting this year; I did it two years ago and it was good. The program runs all year, and begins and ends with weekend retreats. The fall retreat is the first weekend in September, at a retreat center near Brighton. I am trying to decide whether I can do the retreat. Can I leave Eric home with David for a whole weekend? Could I commute, so that I could sleep with Eric at least? It's possible to do the program without doing the retreat (that's what I did last time), but people really liked the retreats. I'm just not sure I'm ready to be away from the baby for a whole day, let alone a weekend. We'll see.
I spoke in worship yesterday. This is called "offering ministry," and I have done it less often than you would expect given my habit of having something to say practically all the time. Maybe I have spoken 5 or 6 times in my home meeting in the past seven years, and another two or three times in FLGC worship or at Yearly Meeting. But one thing I have learned from Quakering is that it's OK not to say anything if you don't have anything to say. I use that lesson everywhere.
I always feel shy after I speak in worship, but I got a good response. One person encouraged me to write up what I said for the newsletter, and another woman told me that she had experienced an "opening" from my ministry.
The baby is about to wake up; it is, in fact, something of a surprise that he hasn't woken up already. So I must go prepare myself to feed him.
Posted by Su Penn at July 23, 2003 12:31 AM | TrackBack