one week

Here's to perfection. He is such a sweet baby. I want to stare at him and smell him and hold him and take pictures of him all day long. 

He takes wonderful naps and he sleeps ok during the night (this is not to say that we are used to getting up with a baby, only that he doesn't scream inconsolably all night like one of our other kids did). 

He chews on his fist, takes a pacifier, and eats like a champ (once he latches on--there's definitely a learning curve). He loves to be swaddled tight like a burrito. If he starts crying (and I know he's been fed and changed) we wrap him up tight, give him a pacifier, and he sleeps for....until I wake him up to eat (except at night...he somehow manages to wake himself up every 3 hours at night). 

He doesn't seem to mind the after-school noise level in our home or the kids constantly in his face (it drives me crazy though) or being smooshed together as they try to figure out how to hold a brand new baby. 

He's everyone's favorite, and that's ok. 

I always feel bittersweet when a baby is born. I miss the kicking and stretching life in my belly, but Yay! I have my body back! Oh wait, nothing fits and the hard baby belly has turned to mush. Yay!--I can bend over! But...it was kinda' nice when everyone rushed over to help the pregnant woman. 

Hardest of all is the realization that this time in our life is coming to a close. When Logan was born I wondered why we wouldn't have as many as we could--and he was my crier! Joe says he'll take as many as I'll give him. But the reality is that I feel like I'm at my limit! (Ok, truthfully don't we feel like that at 1, then 2, and so on--and somehow we stretch to become more than we ever thought we could be.) 

There are the regrets. I didn't take enough pictures. I wish I had insisted that they not use pitocin. Things like that. 

But this is our story, and I can't go back, so we'll embrace the story and take more pictures. It's silly to spend my seconds thinking about what I would do differently--and yet, I have some kind of regret for every birth story (and after five you'd think I'd have it figured out). 

Really, though, we are all doing marvelously. After 5 kids, I can truly say that I know a little bit more about newborns, and that makes the transition a million times easier. (Knock on wood.) Also, having older kids who are pretty self-sufficient and also great helpers makes a huge difference. 

Of course, one of our favorite topics of conversation these days is who August looks most like and how he compares to each of the kids at this age. (I'm posting pictures below. Who do you think?) Of course this meant that we needed to pull the baby pictures out. The kids love looking at them and hearing all their baby stories. 

Logan cried a lot and never slept. New mom or cranky baby? 

Madi slept all night from day 1, but getting her to sleep was a nightmare. She also pooped a lot. All over everyone. 

Grant whimpered, and 2 yr old Madi dropped him while trying to console him (I was in the basement switching laundry). 

Ammon was delightful as well. 

August on his first day home. Also, as is customary, August peed on Dad during his (Joe's) first diaper change. The kids just happened to be at the hospital to witness it, and we (minus Joe) laughed and laughed.

Getting ready to leave the hospital. Seriously, he's gorgeous. 

August, today. (Ok, so the month/name thing might get confusing.)

Ammon 

Grant 

Madi (this is like 12 hrs after birth. So. Perfect. Also the only baby picture I have of her on Facebook). 

Logan (his pictures are all old-school pre-digital, pre-Facebook pictures). He was pretty beat up from a traumatic forceps birth. 

Everytime we looked through one child's pictures we'd say August looks just like that child. After making it through all four kids--we have come to the conclusion that they all look very similar. Siblings. Go figure!