Taking the good with the bad

Day 2 of Reese's tiny life was a much more low-key day for most of us.  My pain is getting better, with the help of some good drugs, and I've been trying to walk to reduce some soreness and prevent getting stiff.  Reese has been awesome, sleeping and eating so incredibly well.  I realize that she doesn't eat much, but still - feeding her takes MAYBE 5 minutes, from the time the bottle goes in her mouth until we're done burping her.  Yes, even done burping.  Before any of you start in on the just-give-it-2-weeks lectures, I am fully aware of how quickly and drastically newborn behavior can change.  All I'm saying is that the least exhausting thing in my life right now is Reese herself.

Reese doesn't cry, she squeaks.  I take that back - she cried today when the nurse was squeezing the blood out of her toe for a blood test.  She only cried when the nurse had been squeezing her toe for a while - not a peep when she was actually stuck; not a peep when she had another blood test done...nor for her hearing test...nor for her HepB shot.

Reese weighed in 7 ounces lighter than her birth weight and can only lose 3 more ounces before they will change her formula.  Are we worried?  Nope.  She passed her hearing test on her left ear, but the right ear will be tested again tomorrow because she might have some fluid in her ears from being a c-section baby.  Worried?  Nope.  What am I definitely worried about?  I just watched her almost roll over, just by kicking her legs in her swaddle and turning her head.  I'm telling you, my 2-day-old almost rolled over.

Reese was wonderfully sweet today with moments like this:

Here's what I mean by how quiet and squeaky she is...I just had to video these few moments of squeaks, mouth pops, and tongue clicks, accompanied by swimmy newborn arms.  Sorry to bore you, but I'm a newborn mom...this is what we do.

All of this so far is the good...the bad, unfortunately, is Emma.  SHE'S not bad, her acceptance of Reese isn't bad; it's her hesitation that we're not happy about.  Emma doesn't want anything to do with Reese.  Today she told us, in no uncertain terms, that she doesn't like Mommy, Daddy, or Reese.  No yelling or crying about it.  Just simple statement of fact.  Ok, what she thinks is fact.  She says things like this not out of hardness of heart but out of her 4-year-old inability to comprehend and explain her emotions.  I most certainly DID tell her, in no uncertain terms, that she is NEVER to say that she doesn't like Mommy, Daddy, or Reese.  (For the record, she apologized and then 10 minutes later apologized for crying.)  She has been pushed to kiss Reese, hold her, hug her, touch her, watch her, wave to her, blow a kiss to her, but it's so very clear that she needs to do this at her own pace.  And that's fine.  After some attempts at pictures with Reese, I made the executive decision to stop punishing a crying Emma with taking pictures with a tiny human so small and unlike a baby doll - Reese is close to only 6 pounds even, y'all, and you know how newborns look: really, really new in some ways but really, really old in others (wrinkly feet, dry skin) - that's kinda freaky for a 4-year-old who has never had any reason to think that all real babies look like baby dolls.  And Lord help if some toy manufacturer ever decides to create baby dolls that actually look like newborns - cradle cap, dry skin, jaundice, hairy shoulders, umbilical cord stump, explosive black/green poop, cone-shaped head, angel kisses, stork bites...Reese has some, but not all, of these.  Sorry, folks, but these are all things that we, as decent human beings, overlook to declare a newborn cute.  So yeah...no pictures of Emma and Reese yet.

I know that if Emma is forced to love and accept Reese, bad things will happen.  I can just see it in her face and her reactions yesterday and today.  It will have to start with being in the same room as Reese.  Start small.  Don't start asking her questions about Reese.  Just act like everything is normal.  I can see it now - one day (hopefully in the near future), Emma will quietly ask me, "Where's Reese?"  I will say, "Napping in her room."  And that's it.  No pushing the issue for either of us.  Soon afterwards, she will say, "Where's Reese?"  "Napping in her room."  "Can I go see her?"  I understand how my child operates, so I really hope that Emma doesn't go through such a drastic jealous child phase that this whole scenario that has played out in my head never comes true and I'm left calling Dr. Phil.  Or the SuperNanny.

I sure hope that Emma remains predictable and that Reese becomes predictable.  My Type A personality needs this.  But the mommy in me will accept and love my babies unconditionally.  There may be moments of dislike, but never moments of unlove.