I am so in love with Langston. He's been out in the world for less than two days, and even so, his strength of character has taught me so much. He never cries, and he looks around the world in wonder. Despite the terribly long birth process, he remained calm; he maintained a normal heart rate, although his heart responded to the situation he found himself in, and he was born growling.
Yesterday, he was circumcised, then the hospital photographer took photos of him; he was ear muffed for a hearing test; he was stripped down and weighed; he was examined at least 5 times by nurses and his pediatrician, and he never once cried. He cooed; he giggled; he kept his eyes closed and sucked on his hands. There's some kind of transcendence in all of that, which mostly means that
Langston has made me stronger too. I have more than surpassed the perameters set forth by the standard patient's surgery recovery. My doctors and nurses were blown away with my progress yesterday, and I was unhooked from everything by 10a. My body is really taking charge and taking on the role of healing me. My incision scar is so small, and it is healing well, and I have been walking around, eating whole, healthy foods, breast feeding like a champ and my tummy is in great shape. And I actually got to sleep for 5 hours straight, which is the most I've slept since Sunday night;
Tim and Langston are sleeping right now. They are one each on either side of me.
Tim is curled up in white blankets, his hands around his face, his eyebrows furrowing, his face questioning, responding to dreams. He is far too tall for the couch he's sleeping on.
Langston is wrapped in blue stripes with a little grey hat on, covering his full head of beautiful blonde hair, which is the same color as Tim's. His hands are curled around his face too; he's cooing; his mouth is shifting between lopsided smiles and grunting moans as he sleeps; he is sucking on his thumb. He is also too tall for the hospital bassinet that he's sleeping in; his footied feet are pressed against the glass, supporting his body.
I couldn't be more in love.