Oh goodness, what a month it has been. We are so thankful for another beautiful month with you, and this month marks you turning EIGHT months old!
You have kept us busy this past month, with continued appointments, feeding issues, and of course, being a happy little night owl (read: minimal sleep for Mommy!)
This month you weigh in right at 14 pounds and 8 ounces. We just upped you to size two diapers, and you are wearing six month and six to nine month clothes. Your height is around 25 inches and your kissable cheeks make you look like you are a chunky monkey.
Your hair is still long on top, despite another trim to keep it from falling in your eyes and face. Its looking blonder to me, but time will tell. Your eyes are still a darker blue, I've always thought they were closer to navy.
This month you have had lots of issues with your feeds. We put you completely on formula while I cut soy and dairy, and after a good 3.5 weeks we transitioned you back to breast milk. You have TONS of air in there - it's just insane. If we don't burp you before, during and after the feed, you vomit past your fundo, crying the entire time. You've had flecks of dried dark blood come back out in your feeds as well. As the month has progressed the flecks have turned into chunks, and they have gotten redder. As a result, we have started Zantac and Prevacid, and are hoping for things to smooth out in that area. In other news, just being on the breast milk you aren't gaining much, really hardly at all. But we want to get your tummy troubles sorted before making more changes.
You are smiling all! the! time! when you feel well, almost giggling. You adore watching big sister Pearl and you think your four legged friend is fascinating. You love to talk and scream and chatter right about 8pm, also your big brother's bedtime. It's simply adorable and I'm just glad you are around to chatter - so squeal away little brother!
We have had appointment after appointment this month, the best news being a clear EEG so we are weaning our seizure medicine. Yay! As soon as you get home from these appointments your germophobe Mom completely strips you down, everyone changes clothes, and you get a bath immediately. We have to keep you well, because as of your eight month birthday there is only 19 days until your next open heart surgery! We are trying to keep you away from your big brother who has RSV as of four days before this letter. We are no strangers to doing things the difficult way - this shall be no different. ;)
That was another major development this month, deciding on a surgeon. I have always been more than comfortable with doing the next surgeries here, as I have complete faith in the doctors here and their skill sets. I have always prayed along this journey for our steps to be led and guided in the right direction. Somehow, by turn of events, surgery was not possible in town, and after having your chart sent to two different hospitals for opinions, we picked the one that we felt we were being pointed towards.
You are getting stronger and better at tummy time. You can roll but stop as soon as you reach your sides, never completing the roll because why would you want to be on your tummy anyway? You still hate tummy time after all. You are getting stronger at sitting, but still need work with your lower back strength.
Caysen, one of my favorite times with you, is letting you sit on my lap to play, watching you grin, and kissing under those ears of yours. I absolutely love to hold you and calm you, and to feel you relax and gaze up at me is the sweetest. You are into grabbing and pulling my hair, and have started using your tiny little hands to touch my face. You are simply amazing, and looking down at you and seeing pink cheeks is nothing short of a miracle.
As frustrating as it can be, I love watching your routine before bed. Soon enough, I'll be missing having a tiny baby that would rather grin at me than sleep, so I try to soak it up. Once you get tired, you whine when held and want to be laid down. You fall asleep best laying on your right side, with your paci, in your rock in play. After a few minutes I can move you to your crib. You seem to have gotten used to this routine for some reason, and settle the best. I am not sure what will happen when you outgrow your rock and play, but I guess we will worry about that when we get there.
Oh Caysen, we are both damaged goods, and PTSD is no joke. I can't lay you on your back with strangers around without you bursting into tears afraid you're going to be poked. I can't move out of earshot from you during a feed, for fear you will cough, vomit and aspirate and you need to stay well. One bad feed with blood and air and we start to prepare ourselves for the worst, are you still allergic to the milk? Is something else wrong? It's never ending. We are both so fragile. But nothing compares to seeing you kick your feet and flap those hands around with the biggest dimpled smile when I approach. It makes it all melt away. You are such a little gift, and we are so blessed by you!
You are looking so big these days, and to think back on our journey so far - it makes each and every grin in our direction That. Much. Sweeter!
Love you to the moon and back,