Home

Normally, the stay in the hospital is 48 hours, or two nights, after the baby is born.  We felt (and by we, I mean mostly Sarah) like we'd already put in our time.  After a parade of professionals poked and prodded and listened and lectured and etc., we were cleared to leave a day early.  Despite all my fears and paranoia, Emmett is complete and happy, and doesn't have the worst personality, so far.  He knows all the fundamentals of babydom, including feeding, sleeping, crying, and pooping.

Before we could go, the Dude got a little bath... It was not his favorite thing ever.  He looked at Sarah like, what the heck was that all about.  Love this shot.

He forgave us pretty quickly.  He's also really into being swaddled, which is cool.  He slept on the couch with me for awhile on night one, and then swaddled and in a bassinet for the rest of the morning.

Thanks to Grammy and Pop H, Chopper had a dapper little outfit to go home in.  He tried to help out, but isn't that handy with knots yet.  Also, I'm not sure he knows that the hands belong to him.  It's kind of like watching a small, less fascist Doctor Strangelove.



All set!  Let's go home!

A beautiful and thoughtful homecoming prepared by Gangie!

It was a bright and beautiful Fingerlakes summer day.  The neighbors came over to congratulate us and wish us all well.  They've been keeping an eye on our comings and goings for the last few weeks and admit that every time we're gone for more than a couple hours they wonder if this is it.  Well, it finally was.

We got home in time to watch the Germans send the Italians home.  Emmett slept through the game.  That's alright, I'm counting on him being a swimmer.

It was a long night.  Emmett wants to eat, or at least pacify, pretty much all the time, and announces this desire with abandon.  He also did not like the bassinet we had for him.  The upshot is that he slept between us for most of the night.  After a couple feedings, Sarah got up to take a bath and finished out the morning on the couch.  I slept for 5 minutes at a time, constantly waking up to make sure I hadn't rolled over on him and that he hadn't rolled onto his stomach.  It was oddly magical, and I got up more rested and energized than seems possible.  It's sappy, but I'll say it anyway; I spent most of the night looking at him and falling in love.

Good morning Dad.  Now what about Mama and my breakfast?