Tired but Healthy

So Thursday was our first night at home with Alex. The new baby-fied schedule was a little rough on all of us, but aside from a little fatigue, we managed to get through it unscathed. We have quickly discovered that Alex prefers to sleep with a warm body nearby as opposed to lying on his own in the bassinet - he's a people person, I guess. However, three's already a crowd in our bed (Murphy's the third, in case that wasn't obvious), so adding a fourth is really not an option. Although he woke up/woke us up half a dozen times, Timothy insisted that I only do the parts that he absolutely could not do himself (i.e. nurse the baby). He got up every time Alex cried and handed him over to be nursed, then insisted that I sleep while he burp (Alex, that is) and soothe him back to sleep. Needless to say, I was very grateful for the little bit of extra sleep and for Timothy, of course. Outstanding work, Daddy!!

Alex had his follow-up doctor's appointment on Friday afternoon. The boys were all a bit pooped from the events of the previous night, so they took a nap together in the morning to make sure Alex was well-rested and in tip-top shape before seeing the pediatrician. Once he was done getting his beauty rest, we packed him into his carseat and headed out on our first big adventure.

The NWA Pediatric Clinic is just down the street from the hospital so we got there in no time. The nurse make us strip Alex down to his skivvies, which didn't really please the little guy. Although we hate to see him upset, it did please us to know that a career in male exotic dancing is not likely to be in his future. She weighed him and measured his length, then Dr. Robinson (the pediatrician) came in to complete the physical. Poor A did not enjoy this process one iota. He screamed his fool head off as he was poked and prodded, while I did everything I could to stifle my own waterworks. It's not as though he was being harmed in any way, but just knowing how confused and scared he must've been...well, it still makes me want to cry as I write about it. I guess that's what happens when you're a mama.

The results of the exam were as follows: Alex weighed in at 7lbs. 4ozs., down a perfectly normal 12ozs. from his birthweight. All of his vitals were good - legs work, eyes are good, ears clear, etc. All in all a good diagnosis. The only snafu we ran into was that the doctor thought he was looking a bit yellow and suggested that we have his blood drawn to test his jaundice levels. At home, we actually hadn't noticed anything weird about his coloring, but in the oh-so-unflattering fluorescent light of the examination room, we saw that Alex did seem to be sporting a lovely shade of French's Mustard yellow.

We immediately took him to the diagnostic clinic down the street to have his blood work done. I thought that what transpired at the doctor's office was traumatic, but I hadn't seen nothin' yet. I made Timothy stand by Alex and hold his little hands while the two techs poked at his feet and attempted to collect a sufficient amount of blood in a tiny vial before it clotted. They were unsuccessful with the first foot, so they had to try the second one before they finally collected enough. I made sure to keep a tech between myself and Alex so that I would not have to look at him, but his pitiful little screams still ripped my heart out. Poor Alex. Poor me!!

Later that evening, we got the results of the blood work, which indicated that his jaundice levels were not high enough to require any real action other than to keep feeding him and stick him in a sunny window. Until things change, we will just have to be sure to dress him in tones that are complementary to yellow...