Two big things happened today: Mitchell had his two-month appointment (and was declared a giant) and I went back to work.
First, the good.
Mitchell is 13 pounds 2 ounces, 25.5 inches long, and his head is 16 inches around. As compared to the other two-month-olds in America, he is in the 75th percentile for weight, 75th percentile for his head circumference, and OFF THE CHARTS in height. It’s official: only Justin’s genes got through. My egg was obviously empty. In terms of development, the doctor said he’s doing great. He was very impressed at how active and happy he was during the exam. Then he gave the order to crush all that happiness. The new rule in this house is that Justin stays in the room for Mitchell’s shots from now on. It was so terrible. I was reminded of the scene in Look Who’s Talking Too. Mitchell was so happy, chatting up a storm with the nurses, and then all of a sudden his face transformed into the most pathetic, sad, abused baby ever. The lower lip went out and he looked shocked, then the pain hit and he started crying so hard he was gasping. It was terrible. I was told that babies couldn’t have tylenol anymore, so I didn’t pre-dose him or even buy any to give him afterward. AND he dropped the pacifier in the waiting room, so he couldn’t even make himself feel better with the pacifier. Luckily he cried himself out pretty quickly. It was heartbreaking, though. I have to say, not half as bad as seeing him in the NICU, though, so I was able to keep a little perspective on the whole thing.
Work was…well…work. In my next life, I’m going to save up enough money to take the first year off work. Until then, I’ll continue to just be thankful I can take Mitchell to work with me.
Mitchell started reaching for and grabbing things on Saturday! He also started enjoying this little taggy blanket he has.