This Is Why It's...

Snapping pictures daily, and this is the best I feel I've come up with.  Further down you'll find pictures that do David justice: these are just a vain, amateur attempt to record his face for posterity.  (I'm saving pictures of him getting a bath until his Prom Night.)

Amazingly, by the time most people will read this, we'll be a month in.  He's certainly grown and we could not be happier with his continued health.  David's been well enough that he's not even getting the tiny things that can bug: no real cradle cap, great eczema-free skin, no spitting-up/reflux. 

Of course, I'm still greedy.  He's prone to staying up until at least midnight before really settling down for sleep and often needs a warm chest to lay on to settle down.  Really, it's not the worst punishment.

Now, I'm just looking forward to the first real smiles.  They should happen within the next month, but knowing me (and how much I've been looking forward to them), I'll be nervous if I don't see if by mid-May...

Good to Know a Photographer...

Michael, one of my oldest, best friends and who happened to be my best man, has never lost his photographic eye. Here's some snaps he took when David was just under a week old.

To be honest, David is one of the cutest boys I've ever seen (I know, I'm probably prejudiced), but absolutely HATES the camera.  I'm grateful for digital photography because I can take pictures with abandon and get one in a hundred that's worth looking at twice.

Yet, Michael made him look good even on a day he was grumpy for the camera, as usual.  Thanks again, Michael!

How do "normal" people do this?

Hats off to people jumping into parenting without a combined two decades of pediatric experience!

I have to say, so far, we've been very blessed with David's health and sleep and eating habits.  K is exceptionally well read in regards to breastfeeding and David took to it like a champ.  Even so, it can be challenging, even to me--and I'm just a spectator.

Add on to that all the little grunts, whistling sounds from the nose, crying, unexplained fussiness (until it's explained by a diaper moistened by dew)--I feel and understand the fright of many of the parents I deal with.

And the weird thing is that I don't know that the grunts and whistles are normal because I learned it in medical school or because it was presented during residency.  The only way I know it's normal behavior is because I've heard the concerns for years and know that, in most cases, it passes.

Medical school teaches about disease.  Residency teaches how to investigate and organize and manage.  Experience teaches us normality.

Thankfully, I've got a decade-plus of experience that lets me sleep at night.

And goodness knows what it must be like to be the first-time parents of a sick child...

Some David Pictures

David Merritt Rivera is here!

David was born this morning at 7:04 am and we are happy and tired and very, very happy.

K wasn't due until April 5th and we had plenty to do at home still to prepare, but you don't always get to set your circumstances.

"Uno propone; Dios dispone."


At 10 pm last night, K's water broke rather dramatically at home just as she was getting up from the couch.  Since she was feeling well, we were able to call our OB on call and get our things ready (including taking Mia for a walk) and head over to the hospital.  In what seemed like a New York minute, suddenly K was contracting every 3 minutes and starting to feel it.  A little medical intervention here and a little pain control there and we had as good a labor and delivery as I could hope for (of course, I wasn't the one in pain).

David was born bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and seemed very ready for the world.  Not to be too proud, but for a young, little guy, he's been quite awake and a great feeder so far.

We're keeping visitors to a minimum, so so far only grandparents have seen the tyke (3 out of 4 as of right now--#4 is on his way).  Even then, we're barely catching up on a long night's sleep 30 minutes at a time with all the feeding, changing, skin-to-skin, snacking, etc.

In all, though.  We're happy.  All three of us are happy.  (We're not sure about Mia--she may be a little miffed about the arrival.  Time will tell.)

It's 3 a.m.

It's happening, amazingly enough. I haven't told anybody about this blog, so some very intrepid readers must be searching this out to read it in real-time.

K's water broke at 10 p.m. and we were able to get things nice and collected (with just a little I Love Lucy running around on my part-K had everything figured out).

We've chosen to keep the birthing process private-I'll be the only one with K. This seems like the sane thing for us to do. I'm just afraid that some may feel left out, but that'll have to be their problem. K deserves her privacy and some semblance of control.

All's good so far...