Michelle and Beth are both still doing very well. Beth is having a little trouble putting on weight but we’ve tweaked the feeding regime and that should resolve itself in a day or two. M is very pleased that breastfeeding a looking like a goer as she felt she had missed out on something by not going through a ‘natural’ childbirth. B is a good little sucker and we’re gradually getting the hang of efficient routines for night feeds and so on.
Fatherhood is such a strange mix of emotions that it’s very hard to describe. I didn’t get an immediate, overwhelming thunderbolt of emotion when Beth was born but since then, and especially since she came home from hospital, my love for her has really taken over and is deepening all the time.
It’s difficult to reconcile my pre-Beth, rationalist view of babies with my parent’s-eye perspective, but I figured that the dichotomy can be resolved by the use of the post-Beth caveats parenthesised below:
1) All newborns look the same (except for Beth who is dazzling beautiful)
2) All they do is feed, fart and excrete (except for Beth, who does lots of really cute and individual stuff)
3) All babies are stupid (except for Beth who is a little sage)
Meanwhile M and I have been keeping each other sane by looking after each other and doing our usual stuff while B is asleep: watching DVDs etc. We haven’t gone out much because all the locals are aghast at the cold snap we’ve been having, down to (gasp!) 11 celsius some days. This is a nation of lightweights, I tell you.