Cry, Baby, Cry

Newborn babies sure do cry a lot.

I guess that's to be expected. When you think about it, it's the only way they can communicate. They cry when they're hungry. They cry when they're tired. They cry when they're hot or cold. They cry when they're angry. Who knows? Maybe they weep when they're happy, too. In any event, they cry for all sorts of reasons.

Baby Nathaniel is no exception. He's a crier, a real screamer. He opens his mouth like a baby bird and lets out a full-throated whoop to let it be known that something is not right with his world, and yes, daddy or mommy, you need to fix it, and fast.

We've been unable to differentiate the little hombre's cries so far. There's the repetitive cry, the one that loops as if it's a 45 rpm record that's skipping on a turnstile. With that one, baby Nathaniel goes round and round, coughing every now and then, an "I'm disgusted with you" scoffing kind of cough and then he resumes with his looping staccato set of cries. We think this one means he's pissed off, such as when we swaddle him and lay him in his Boppie and he want to be cuddled, or when he's fighting to stay awake, despite being physically exhausted.

Then there's the more soulful cry, not as shrill as the angry cry with a hint of melody to it. This cry can occasionally reach repetitive status, but usually it doesn't reach that degree of urgency. We think this one is the "I'm hungry" cry, and our best guess is it's more mellow, because usually he employs that one when he's emerging from a deep slumber.

Speaking of slumber, the little guy has been a champion sleeper. The last three nights he has slept for more than three hours at a stretch. In fact, last night, the little camper bundled up from 12:30 a.m to 5 and then from 6 a.m. to past 10. It's hell many times getting him to fall asleep (see angry cry, above), but we have to say that when he does fall asleep, he stays that way for a long while.

Nathaniel is 10 days old today (Saturday). I still look at him occasionally and marvel. I get these jolts: Is he truly ours? Did he just show up at our doorstep? Did we steal him? Are we fully responsible for his plight?

Then again, I have this other emotion: It feels as if he's been with us for months, if not longer. It's hard to imagine the time when he was not here, despite knowing full well it hasn't been that long.

Nathaniel already has woven himself into the fabric of our lives. That blanket, if you will, is so much warmer, cuddlier, more familiar.

Buddy, we're glad you're with us.