The Good Life... a weblog about life, technology, and the Opera web browser

Sara Ellen is now twenty-six and a half months old. Compared to the first two years of her life, the development she's going through now is much more subtle. This week, her hair is falling in front of her eyes for the first time. She's started eating raw carrots, counting, and sleeping more often in her own bed. She has great senses. She is energetic, smart, fun-loving, kind, shy, and gentle; I hope these are the traits she holds on to as she grows up.

She wants to watch movies constantly, though we restrict her to one a day. Her favorite movie used to be "Monsters, Inc" (which she called "Bears and Frog"), but now she prefers "Cars" (mostly because of Mater). A couple of days after she first watched it, Rebekah had become Lightning McQueen, I had become Mack (McQueen's transport truck), and Sara Ellen called herself "funny Mater". Her other favorites are "The Incredibles", "Ratoutille", and "Finding Nemo", though she'll occasional want to watch "Beauty and the Beast". Sara Ellen always cheers for the heroes by exclaiming, "No get you!" and fearing for their well-being.

Twenty-seven months ago, I didn't know what I'd do with our child. Now, I don't know what I'd do without her.

One of the things that's continued to amaze me as I've watched Sara Ellen grow is the number of things she has to learn along the way. For instance, she's started laughing just within the last two weeks. It seems like the only things she knew how to do when she was born were breathe, fill her diaper, and cry. Within the first couple of days, she learned to breastfeed. She had to learn our smell, the sound of our voices, and the way we look. Soon, she learned to smile, bat at objects, and suck her fists. Lately, she's been opening up her fists, attempting to roll, and laugh.

There's nothing quite like a baby's laugh. There's this magical quality to it that can instantly brighten even the dullist day. And thanks to the wonders of technology, you can listen to and watch Sara Ellen's very first laugh to see exactly what I mean. Enjoy.

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.

Rebekah's water broke on Friday, unbeknownst to either of us. A routine check-up on Monday led to a hospital visit to check if things were getting started. They were concerned for the health of the baby since the water had broken several days previously and asked her to return today so they could induce labor. Shortly after she arrived at the hospital today, her contractions began naturally.

I left work around noon, reassured by Rebekah that I should take my time getting to the hospital (i.e. take mass transit instead of a taxi), since these things usually take time. She even asked me to stop at the store for some snacks. I arrived by 1pm to my wife admirably weathering her contractions, which were now coming every two minutes.

Shortly thereafter, her contractions became stronger and more frequent and the second stage of labor began. Rebekah gritted her teeth, pushed with all her might, and gasped in air during her contractions. She had no interest in pain killers, preferring to work through the pain, yet she hardly made a peep until the very end. Slowly, Rebekah pushed our baby into this world. Her contractions were short, but she used all the time she had to its fullest.

Finally, I watched as this new, little person arrived. Tears ran down my cheeks as I heard our child squeak for the first time. Rebekah radiated happiness, overjoyed at her accomplishment, grateful that the worst was over. The mid-wives went to work on our new child, so it took a minute or two before we found out that our little person was a girl.

Sara Ellen Juliana Altman was born today in Oslo at 3:49pm CET (that's 9:49am EST for y'all East Coasters). She's 3718g (8lbs 3oz) and 50cm (19 2/3 inches). She's our first child and the first grandchild on both sides of the family.

I was overwhelmed as our baby girl rested in my arms while Rebekah recovered. I'd never held a baby before, yet Sara Ellen didn't seem to mind one bit. She squirmed and squeaked, hid from the light, and cuddled against my chest for warmth. She lay in my arms many times throughout the afternoon, re-energizing after her first big ordeal.

I know that something huge has just occurred, yet I don't feel that different. I wonder if that's thanks to the nine months of preparation we've had. Whatever the case, I'm thankful that our little girl came into this world healthy, happy, and beautiful. May God bless you, Sara Ellen.

See more pictures in our gallery.

Rebekah has been surprisingly devoid of cravings. I'm a bit disappointed, actually. I had this great picture in my head of late night runs to the store for pickles and peanut butter or Doritos with strawberry jelly. It's not that I mind—I'd be making those late night store runs—but I feel like I'm missing out on part of the ambiance of being the husband of a pregnant woman. Then again, maybe she'd want fish or liver paste. Eww. It's probably for the best.

As we lay in bed on Saturday night, Rebekah grabbed my hand and put it on her abdomen. She'd been doing this almost every night for the past few weeks with no success. This time, I felt the gentle prodding she's become accustomed to. For the first time, I felt our baby reaching out into our world from the safety of the womb.

Rebekah is starting to show now and things will only speed up from this point on. I'm still unsure if I'm ready to be a parent, but I think that's natural. It's probably one of those things where if you think you're ready, you're not, and if you think you're not ready, you are. I didn't expect to be a father this early in my life. Yet, I can't wait to see what it's like. I'll do just fine. My parents taught me well, whether they know it or not.

Bill Cosby says that all parents curse their children. "I hope your children grow up to be just like you," they say. If only I could remember what I did to be cursed: I'd start preparing!

Rebekah and I made a trip to the hospital today for her first ultrasound. This was only our second appointment to see a midwife and the first time we got a glimpse of our baby. There's no denying it now: she's definitely pregnant. I suppose I've been in denial. I mean, maybe Rebekah's upset stomach was from something else, right? And pregnancy tests aren't 100% accurate.... But all that went away today as I watched a baby appear on the ultrasound monitor.

As the midwife moved the ultrasound transducer across Rebekah's abdomen, parts of the baby jumped into view.

There are two hands, the midwife said with a deep Norwegian accent. And two feet.

Our baby has two hands and two feet? I asked Rebekah. That's normal, right? I added with a grin.

The midwife moved the transducer around for a while, taking measurements, pointing out different parts of the baby, and printing sonograms. She stopped when she located the heart and let us watch as the four chambers pumped in their perfect pattern. The baby was clearly moving around the whole time, though Rebekah didn't feel anything (and hasn't yet).

Unfortunately, the baby isn't far enough along to determine its sex. The midwife we saw in mid-May (the one who will be performing the birth) estimated the due date for early December and scheduled the ultrasound based on that information. Using the measurements she took, the midwife we saw today estimated the due date to be December 16th. The baby's sex can usually be determined after the sixteenth week, so we were just a bit too early.

I figure it's a good thing that pregnancies last nine months: it gives me a decent amount of time to get used to the idea of being a dad. By the time Rebekah goes into labor, I should be all set.

This sonogram is a profile of our baby. The baby's head is on the right, facing down. The spine is clearly visible on top heading from the head all the way to the left. The black area in the baby on the left is the baby's stomach. I've added a couple more sonograms to our gallery, too.

Conversation begun May 1, 2005 at 8:30 PM

roynuJ: keep a secret?
Seven n 4: umm...sure.
roynuJ: we're expecting
Seven n 4: ::blink::
Seven n 4: you stud!!