Foetus 2.0, fourth trimester report

I neglected to do this at the end of the third trimester, seeing as how the end of the third trimester was rather eventful in and of itself and any report on the whole she-bang would have been slightly occluded by the goings-on the day Tavish arrived.

So how has this fourth trimester been, considering that what was once a parasitic blob of flesh usurping the real estate formerly occupied by my wife's innards is now a living, breathing entity in his own right and shows all signs of eventually acquiring such defining human characteristics as fine motor skills, independent thought, unsubstantiated fears and political partisanship?

Things are looking up.

Tavish is, in short, as much a joy to have around as is his older brother.  Though the road thus far has been a little bumpier.

Amy and I were hoping, praying, crossing spare digits when we could and sacrificing helpless baby mammals in the vain hope that THIS boy-child wouldn't put on the same puke-a-thon that his older brother insisted he carry through to the eighth month or so.

Alas, Tavish is already trying to show up his sibling and seems hell-bent to leave Dex in his dust, at least in this matter.  Old pyjamas have a hole in them?  Tear 'em up and use 'em for spit rags.  That ol' blanket a little tattered?  Still looks pretty absorbent to me.  How many tea towels do we really NEED to do the dishes every week??  The volume of a teaspoon up to a tablespoon of vomit doesn't really sound like much, but when you multiply it by about 30 TO 40 TIMES PER DAY, it sort of adds up.

As our new infant woos and coos us with his burgeoning and completely selfless charm, he bides his time and waits for when there is no rag-wielding hovering hand to mop up the streams of mother's milk that disembogue from his guileless, still smiling mug.  We opt not to complain a whole lot since his chronic creek of curdled charisma is the worst of what he's afflicting on us.  Now.

Getting to this point has been a less than stellar adventure.  He developed oral thrush after little more than a week of life, and it took over three weeks to cure.  The meds he was prescribed exacerbated his already sensitive tummy so that Amy was left fending for a toddler during the day while toting a seemingly permanently latched newborn around with her.  And when he wasn't suckling at his giant, fleshy soother, he was crying and bemoaning his plight.  A chubby finger pointed in concern followed by a pouty, "Bay-bee kying!" became Declan's harmonic counterpoint to the cacophony of colic with which our little bungalow became suffused.

That was the least fun part of these first three months.  That and the seizure Tavish had that terrified my wife and had her rushing the babe to hospital to have his urinary tract infection diagnosed.

Amy and I have also quickly discovered that receiving the blessing of a second child is more than twice the work.  Declan is nowhere near the age where child labour is even remotely ethical, let alone legal, so he still needs a little bit of attention every now and again.  And that from more than the dogs.  And more than the television.

Having our sons so close together, (22 months apart), was a conscious choice and we knew we'd have two in diapers at the same time.  That in itself isn't terribly taxing but for the fact that there are so many other things that want for doing in the course of any given day.  Other things like meals, dishes, laundry and scraping and vacuuming the hardened Play-Doh out of the carpet. Other things we need to do to avoid the level of squalour that would have Child Welfare flocking on us like vultures to the carcass of a wildebeest.  Thank God we had that removed from our backyard before it started to stink too much.

So while it may be more difficult having two wee spawn kicking around here so close together, I really do think their proximity in age will help them when they're growing up.  Mind you, my own brother and I are two years apart (exactly!) and we hated each other's guts up to our late teens.  But my boys will be different.  Of course.  They're already showing signs of bonding.

One odd thing, for me, is that I had almost completely forgotten what it was like to have an infant in the house.  I had grown so accustomed to Declan growing into a toddler that the whole BAM! sensation of a brand new baby sort of caught me off guard even though I was expecting it.

Never mind the fact that we had grown accustomed to sleeping regularly again.  It was quite an unpleasant adjustment to have to get up at all hours of the night for feedings and just generally to placate a squalling little bundle.  Amy had been the heart and soul of conscientiousness with our first infant, at least insofar as her sleeping husband was concerned.  She assumed the vast majority of the after hours responsibilities, seeing that I didn't want to be a zombie at work the next day, combined with the fact that we only had one (small) dog and no other children.

Not so this time around the block.  She must have had her elbows sharpened before leaving the hospital since I am no longer as adept as I was at feigning snores while the far side of bed is inundated with pitiable cries and wet farts.  After three months of this I have been subconsciously trained to the point where all Amy has to do is mutter, "Hey Si, you wanna change a poopie diaper?"

"You know I do," is all the forced enthusiasm I can muster at three in the morning.

Tavish's Great Grandma was saddened that she couldn't come out to see the second member of the fourth generation of her family.  She had been talking about the anticipation for a number of months leading up to Tavish's birth, but was lamentably sidelined by the ineluctable need for kidney dialysis.  Once that starts, you're committed, three times a week, for the rest of your life.  She had put it off for the express intent of seeing her great grandson.  She was one of the prime motivators for starting and maintaining the regular video feature on this site; my aunt sits her down to watch them every week.

But she's still committed.  She wants to set up a series of treatments out west here and work a flight schedule around it.  Plus, we do intend to fly out east within a year to show off the new addition to the rest of our families, all of whom live in Ontario.  With two boys to fawn over, Amy and I are well and truly no more that feeders and caregivers to the main attractions.

Though I had forgotten about the sensation of a seriously skewed schedule brought about by an infant's blithe lack of concern regarding the status quo, I had also let slip the memories of the sensation of a complacent newborn nestled in the crook of my neck.  When he wasn't exercising his lungs or puking warm rivulets of his meals down the collar of my shirt, holding my own baby in arms has been one of the single most pleasurable experiences of this dad's life.  In spite of the fact that I am looking forward to both boys growing out of their nascent years and into the young men that will bust my heart wide open with pride (or, wide opener), I'll never quite get this same level of physical bonding, so won't rush them out of it.

I think I'm enjoying Tavish sooner than I was with Declan.  Amy pointed out to me that Dex was about six months old when she noticed  a change in my own demeanour around our firstborn.  He had ceased to be a pink biological effluence factory and had assumed some more endearing traits that drew me to interact with him.  It's happening faster this time.  Whether due to my having more experience, Tavish reacting to his dad sooner or some combination of factors, I'm drawn to the infant more.

Maybe, if I influence him early enough, he'll turn out left-handed.

Which brings to mind one minor concern that Amy and I have discussed infrequently: the importance of doing our best NOT to compare our boys.  Declan, at these same stages, was heavier and generally healthier than Tavish has been.  Dex was always in the 75 to 85^th percentile of development.  Tavish is longer and lighter and paler.  Declan didn't start walking until he was past 14 months.  Tavish is already showing more refined motor skills than Dex did at three months.  If you can call grabbing and batting around a purple plush elephant 'refined'.  Both boys will develop in their own fashion and independently of each other.  It's important to remember that.

Ultimately, Tavish is a wonderful addition to this family and a whole helluva lot of fun to be around.  To have him propped on my knees for half an hour and engage in a gurgling, cooing conversation is just about the best way to spend part of an evening.

Comments

[rick]

To make a happy fireside clime
To weans and wife,
That's the true pathos and sublime
Of human life.
Burns

A great post, Simon. I'll be hoping for sinister developments for Tavish.

[marian]

Simon, delightful post. Max was also grand champion puker. All the best ones are. He had quite a projectile thing going there too for a while, but one forgets all that pretty quickly. We had spit rags everywhere, but as you say, you can't get it all. I imagine the dogs don't mind. Yeah, nothing like that warm little body in your arms.

Great photos, too.

[TerriTorial]

Adorable little man and if you ask me, he looks quite mischievious. You'll have fun with that little man. I think he's going to be quite the character!

[Mark]

What a distinctive hairline he has.

I didn't know they were 22 months apart. My brother and I are 22 months apart, to the day. I always knew my big brother had my back, no matter how much he teased me at home.

Your little guys will be very glad they had each other growing up.