Life with Baby

I love it.

I love her. I love watching Owen with her.

Little Ivy Robin is so sweet and so good.

We went home on Wednesday evening (it would have been afternoon but we couldn't pick the name). She had lost a little weight and left the hospital weighing 7 pounds 11 ounces and at her doctor's appointment on Thursday she weighed 7 pounds 9 ounces. This is probably due to the fact that she likes to sleep a lot and eat a little. The first few nights I had to wake her up to eat. Last night she helped out and woke me up. She has a nice new cradle next to the bed but for some reason she prefers the bed with everyone else. As long as she is in the bed with the three of us she is content to sleep soundly.

Owen is more than willing to help out, he likes to watch her diapers being changed (he likes to look at the poop even though it makes him gag - there is a boy for you), he always wants to hold her, he kisses her all the time, he attempts to pick her up and carry her places (we let him do a lot, but we are holding back there), and he says he loves her all the time.

I had some friends over on Thursday to meet her and they asked her name. I asked Owen if he remembered her name. He said "Mike". My friends looked at me like I had lost my mind. "No, not Mike." Then he thought for a minute and said, "I mean Ike". Closer at least.

We had thought of Ivy once before she was born but neither Greg nor myself gave it much thought. After she was born it came up again and after knowing her it seemed to fit. We found that in addition to meaning a climbing plant, it also means: growth, renewal, connection, friendship, and opportunity. Perfect.

She is perfect.