We are doing fairly well over here. Noah has been on exclusive breast milk (mixture of bottle and nursing) since we got the okay to do so at 2 weeks (he is a big MOOSE, is what our lactation consultant says!) and I am proud that I worked so hard to get him off formula through pumping and sheer determination. Most preemies are still on a mixture until they reach term (because of supply issues with momma and latching issues with baby), which for him will be this Sunday. He still sleeps most of all day and all night and Jason and I have finally figured out a schedule that works for us most of the time (shifts during the night so we each get a chunk of sleep). In some ways, being forced on formula bottles has helped us in the long run, because he doesn't have nipple confusion and will take most anything you give him - breast, bottle or binky. He gets about two bottles of breast milk a day (3-4 oz a pop!) and the rest he is on the boob. Jason loves feeding him and it gives me a bit of a break, so for that I am thankful. He was 6 lb 10 oz at birth, 6 lbs 4 oz after we left the hospital, and on Monday he was up to 8 lbs. He will also sleep pretty much anywhere - I carry him in a wrap most of the day, so he sleeps on me, but he also switches between the family bed and co-sleeper just fine, as well as in our Rock 'N Play sleeper and swing. He is very flexible and easygoing (knock on wood) which I secretly think I deserve after my hellish pregnancy. I just stare at him and whisper, "I love you, Baby - you are the best thing that I have ever done." I repeat that to him all day, every day, so that he knows how cherished he is. It is shocking how one tiny little guy can so drastically change a person, and I seriously don't know what I did to deserve him.
That he, and every child, is a true miracle was brought home swiftly and strongly this week. One of my closest friends from college, indeed still one of my dearest friends, experienced a still birth this week. She is one of the strongest, most beautiful women I know, and her loss grieves and physically pains me. Baby William was due just a few weeks after Noah's original March 20th birthday. I cannot imagine the devastation her family is going through - to carry a child to term, to plan his room, organize his clothes, feel him kick and punch for months, see his tiny fists on the ultrasound screen, his heartbeat - my loss crushed me, and hers must be paralyzing. It is every mother's worst nightmare and a scenario I often envisioned during my long, isolating nights in the hospital. It is upsetting that I cannot fly up there to be with her as she plans the funeral and somehow has to continue caring for her toddler and make it through breathing and waking up and surviving each day. She is amazing though and so strong and 500 times the woman I am, so I try to let that comfort me as I pray for her and her family. I know that God is stronger than anything that can happen to us and somehow through his Mercy and Grace they will survive. Please pray for them, and sweet baby William, as they make it through these first weeks and months.



