In Norway, the minimum hospital stay for a woman and her new child is 4 nights. Delivery is performed by mid-wives (unless problems occur). After birth, new parents are given help with changing diapers, giving baths, breast feeding, and more. In essence, it's been a dream for Rebekah and me.
Sara Ellen (and Rebekah) spent an extra day at the hospital because her blood sugar levels kept fluctuating. After several elixirs of milk and sugar and enduring frequent blood tests, they steadied. She also suffered from a bit of Jaundice. As treatment, she lay under a blue light for several hours[1]. Sara Ellen finally left the hospital on December 11th, her heels spotted with black dots from needle pricks. We finally got to bring our healthy baby girl home.
Sara Ellen's just over three weeks old now and full of character. I hadn't been around babies much before having her, so I constantly ask Rebekah and her mother if her behavior is "normal". She has cute little sneezes. She gets the hiccups at least once a day. When she has them, her whole body jerks with each hiccup and she looks around as if to ask, "What's happening to me?" She's not scared of them, but she's not exactly happy about it either. She yawns like a grown-up would. I'm not sure why I expected otherwise. Sometimes her yawns seem to scare her and she starts to cry, but she's usually comforted easily.
Rebekah's mom says Sara Ellen is very mellow. I'm good with that. She likes being held a lot. We try to put her in her bassinet when she's sleeping, but a lot of the time she'll wake up when we put her down or shortly thereafter. She squeakes and grunts a lot. And when she goes to the bathroom, it sounds like a small explosion. It's impressive. Yes, I've changed diapers. I wouldn't say I'm an expert, but I'm not afraid of it, either.
I'm surprised at how much character there is in her cry. It's not just "wah wah wah". She'll start out with a couple whimpers or something that sounds like a cough. If we can't figure out what's wrong immediately, she steps up the crying. Next, she makes it sound like someone is physically abusing her. Finally, she gets all choked up until she turns red and can barely cry anymore. Rebekah and I do everything we can to prevent that, but sometimes we can't act fast enough.
Most of the time, she sleeps. When she's not sleeping, she's usually nursing. When she's not sleeping or nursing, she looks around. If we're holding her, she'll focus on us or on something near us. Sometimes she just stares at the wall or the couch. From the day she was born, I've thought of her as strong. She grabs your finger and holds on tight. She's pretty squirmy (I call her "squirmy worm" sometimes), to the point that I'm concerned she'll squirm right out of my arms.
It's still weird for me to talk about "my daughter". Then again, it's still weird to talk about "my wife". Being a father and a husband is just part of who I am, not some label I acquired on a specific day. Rebekah says I'm pretty good at both so far, which is what really counts.
[1] According to Wikipedia, "Green light is more effective at breaking down bilirubin, but is not commonly used because it makes the babies appear sickly, which is disturbing to observers." That cracks me up.
Update: OK, so I confused bilirubin and blood sugar problems when I originally posted this. I thought there was just one issue, but apparently there were two separate problems. No worries though, since she's healthy.
