This entry is from Reilly's fifth week. In retrospect, I want to go back and tell myself that it will all get easier. Really, Brian. It will.
On Sunday, I decided it was time to clip Reilly’s fingernails. For the last couple of weeks, I’d been filing each nail, but with all the milk she’s been drinking, those little daggers are growing longer by the day. I have to say, I was a bit nervous going in for the first nail, but it came off with a quick snip, and feeling my confidence swell, I went after the others. I focused my attention on the thumbnail on her other hand, gave the clippers a squeeze, and totally missed. I pulled my hand away and grabbed her little thumb. She had a raised white line on the skin beneath her nail, and I was relieved to see that I had only pinched it. As I was inspecting the mark, I gave her thumb a squeeze, and a little drop of my baby’s blood came out. She began to wail. I felt like doing the same. Oh, woe to the father who hurts his little girl.
Later in the evening, after life had settled back into its normal chaos, I turned to Shawn, and said, “Parenting is hard.” I mean, I knew that raising a child would be difficult, but honestly, I had no idea that it would be this hard. I said the same thing to Ron Loose over steak and fries last night. Everyone at the dinner table protested that surely the hard times are worth it, and of course, they are right. I just wanted to make the point that the “problem” of a child is not one easily solved. Two plus two never equals four, and five diapers are enough to smell up the nursery.
It is worth it. I really is. When I was in my early twenties, I often wondered on the topic of Life, specifically, what it means. The conclusion I came to was that our purpose to procreate, and that having love in one’s life is the key to living well. Reilly brings both those things into my realm—I have a child, and with that child, I have much, much love.
After a long week, Shawn and I decided today to pack Reilly up in the Baby Bjorn, and beat the heat by taking a bus up to MoMA for some photography. The bus trip went brilliantly. To define “brilliantly” I will simply say that Reilly slept, the bus was air conditioned, and we got a seat. We arrived at MoMA about thirty minutes later, and toured the museum’s photography exhibits for about an hour and a half, including a very interesting collection of shots of Mt. St. Helens. The pictures reminded us of our road trip back in 2000, when we toured the mountain ourselves. We were there off-season, so it was desolate and we slept at a campground where our only visitor was a deer. We slept fitfully. Those fitful nights have returned.
Reilly is so great in the daytime, and is happy to play, dance with mom to Coldplay (her favorite band), or hit the town in her Baby Bjorn. This Thursday, she had her one-month check-up with Dr. Zullo, our pediatrician. Reilly weighed in at 8 lbs, 8 oz, and 21 and a half inches. She is in the 25th percentile for her weight and head circumference, and 75th percentile for her height. Dr. Zullo was very happy with Reilly’s weight gain, and asked Shawn if her father was tall and skinny. Ha! Reilly left with a prescription for Vitamin D drops (to help with bone growth) and for an ultrasound on Monday. Dr. Zullo is concerned that Reilly might have a little hip displacement from birth, and so Shawn will take her into NYU next week to get everything checked out.
The doctor also said that Reilly would be working on her visual abilities and would start displaying a social smile soon. That very same evening, when I was holding Reilly, Shawn got up to go into the kitchen. I watched Reilly follow her mother with her eyes, and when Shawn got out of sight, she raised up a cry. Another item off the checklist. Then, the next morning, when I was talking to Reilly as she woke up, she opened her eyes, looked at me, and gave me her best, biggest smile. She stole my heart.
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