Today Nicky is one month old! Taylor and I were actually still up last night with him at the very moment when he was born, but we were watching Jane the Virgin (I just finished marathoning the first two seasons, almost in time to start season three!) and didn’t notice the time until 12:34am, 21 minutes after Nicky’s birth minute of 12:13am.
He had his four-week checkup on Friday and he now weighs 4.34kg, is 54cm tall and has a head circumference of 37.5cm. He also has the WORST infant acne I’ve ever seen right now, my poor spotty little baby. He is finally growing some eyebrows. His hair is turning light brown and his eyes are turning blue (although I’m not convinced they won’t end up green). He likes baths, bottles and his bassinet, hates diaper changes, post-bath massages and tummy time. He enjoys being swaddled and is ambivalent about binkies and the rockaroo. He’s most awake and active in the evening and sleeps for stretches of up to five hours.
When I was pregnant no one believed that I really didn’t have a preference about the sex of the baby. Even now people try to say that the reason I’m happy I had a boy is because I secretly wanted one all along, which is weird. People have also asked if I’m disappointed that I didn’t have another girl, and in a way I’m a little sad that I didn’t get to use the girl’s name I had picked, and sometimes I think about some of Sym and Gwen’s special clothes I saved that won’t be worn again, but these things? A name, some dresses? They don’t compare at all to how sweet and special he is, and how much I (and all of us) love him.
Happy one month, Nicky!