The Tobe is now officially 6 months old, as of 10:28pm tonight. He was big when he was born (Robyn still hurts), and he's big now. You'd never guess by looking at him, but his growth has slowed down some. At the doctor checkup tonight, he sveltely weighed in an ounce shy of 21 pounds. That, my friends, is a lot of baby.
He is longer than 75% of all 6-month-olds, he weighs more than 90% (see, he's slowing down!), and his head is bigger than more than 97%. And, as I've certainly said before, if you know anything about standard deviations, it's pretty dang difficult to measure beyond about 97% when it comes to a sample.
Brian recently has been writing about how horrible it is, as a parent, to watch your kid be sick and miserable. And while the plight of The Tobe cannot compare to Aly's recent sickness, it's gotta be tough to be a baby. The poor kid was none-too-happy about receiving 3 more shots this evening. And the teeth have been making him unhappy for awhile now, too. I think he wore himself out crying after the shots, and he ended up falling asleep in the car on the way home from the doc office.
Watching him sleep (in the rear-view mirror), I was hit with a horrible random thought: what if he never wakes up? Now, I had a nightmare on Tobe's 2nd day of life outside the womb that we lost him. The first time he slept for more than an hour after we got him home, I was checking to make sure he was breathing. But other than very early on in his life, I haven't so much worried about him dying. This troubling thought messed me up for a few miles, before I dismissed it.
I love this kid more and more every day. Yesterday, he spent several hours either attached to me (via Bjorn) or in my arms. He seems to respond to me more each day. He knows who I am, and he loves me. He likes just about anyone at this point, but it's obvious that Mommy and The Daddy Guy are his favorites. Not just does he know me, but I know him. He's my little dude.
I saw a car window sticker while commuting home from work the other day. It was a crucifix with the birthday and deathday of a baby who didn't live to see his first birthday. I don't know how I'd survive. I mean, I know God will never forsake us, but I can't imagine life without my little Tobe. Even on nights like tonight, when he's crabby and refusing to sleep, I just love him so much.
1 comment:
Dude, I've had those same dreams. I don't know why, or what it is (probably the devil), but those thoughts run through my mind all the time. As a parent, that IS your worst fear, and I guess that's why those thoughts are there. We're always focusing on the worst things that could happen. And I also understand your feelings of, "Man, what would I do if that did happen? I don't know what I'd do. It'd be aweful." I know those thoughts are terrible to have, but they're also very real. But I tell myself to live in the joy of the moment that you have here and now, and soak it up for all its worth.
I'm scared to death to have Mindee and Aly driving to New York without me.
Love the Tobe even more than you already do.
As a sidenote, Aly is still under 20lbs. That's ridiculous. She hates breakfast and with her being sick, I'm sure she's lost even more weight. Scary.
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