Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News

Today was Liam's first official outing, and I guess mine too. Although I'm moving around, I'm still in some pain from the surgery and can't really get too active or I really start hurting. I'm not going anywhere on my own any time soon...

Since Frank (aka Oma) is off returning Jessica to the land of the Hoosiers, PJ (that's Grandpa - PJ stands for Pa Junior) took me and Liam to the pediatrician's office for the first check-up. Of course, before you can go anywhere, it is very important to make sure you have the essentials in the diaper bag. I apparently have no idea what I'm doing in this department. I didn't have enough diapers for this 2 hour excursion (I thought 2 would be enough), I didn't bring the pacifier...at least I remembered all his paperwork. Lesson learned on the diapers - pack what you think you need and then add four more.

Once we got there and got checked in, it was time for a weigh-in. Unfortunately for Liam, this means naked baby time. Liam HATES naked baby time with a passion. He hadn't really slept that morning so I knew that as soon as he was naked, it would be game on for some serious fussing, especially since lunchtime was right around the corner. He got weighed and measured and he's + 1 inch and +13oz since birth (9 days ago)...my little milk monster is growing very quickly...and for good reason. As soon as the nurse left and we got a diaper back on him the screaming commenced. I did remember to pack bottles, so I managed to get his lunch in him and got him back to his normal, calm self before the doctor walked in.

She looked him over and declared him a keeper. She didn't even blink when I told her how badly the chunky monkey is trying to eat me out of house and home. She just said if he goes longer than 4 hours between feedings, it's not a problem. Clearly, the boy isn't starving. He did have thrush, a common occurrence in babies, but it should clear up after a round of his antibiotics assuming he can keep the doses down better than he did today. Last but not least, it was time for the blood test. I was holding Liam and braced for the worst as the nurse came at him with the heel stick poker-thing. The kid barely even flinched. There was no crying, no tears, no quivering lip, nothing. It's possible he was still in his lunch-induced milk coma, but I expected at least a little fussing. Not that tough little man - amazing. The nurse asked me what number kid this was for me. When I told her it was my first, she was surprised. Apparently, she was more impressed with my performance during the heel stick and subsequent blood-letting than she was Liam's - I guess first time moms don't typically remain as calm as I managed to feign during the process.