Petra is two weeks and one day old. She's spent the time eating like a crazy thing and sleeping. As a result she's visibly bigger now and no longer looks like a newborn.
She's very self-confident and poised about being a baby. The extra five days in-utero gave her a head start so she's never had that "what the hell is going on here?" look that new babies often have. Travis and I are less assured at being parents, but we're doing our best to keep up with her. And so far, she's been pretty easy – mostly we just need to fill her with food whenever she asks for it to keep her mellow. Sometimes that involves 20 minute guzzles four hours apart and sometimes it means 10 minute snacks every 1 1/2 to 2 hours. I like, and my nipples like, the four hour breaks better.
Right now she's reclining on my arm recovering from a bath and a drink. Her hair's all shiny and yummy smelling and her arms and eyelids are droopy – she's thoroughly cute.
She's more alarming than cute when she wails, but we're getting better at figuring out what her cries mean and providing comfort. And thank god for mum!! Petra's Nanny, my mother, has been a wonder. She fixed my breastfeeding woes simply by pushing Petra's head harder onto my breast and she's been up in the night way beyond the call of duty rocking Petra to sleep. She's provided drinks and dinner when I've been stuck on the sofa nursing and, most importantly, she's offered reassurance when we've been uncertain. I'm very glad she was willing to come all the way from New Zealand to help.