First Month By the Numbers

26Jul07


It’s been one month since Evan was born. One month since I was carrying him around like a large beach ball under my shirt. One month since I started having contractions after a walk through the neighborhood — my second walk that day. One month since mom, dad, and baby officially fell in love.

In that month, we’ve changed approximately 360 diapers and done at least 32 loads of laundry. We have given Evan three tub baths (oh my god, is that right? we should be washing that kid more often!) and frequent eye and chin spot checks with a warm washcloth. We have walked bald patches into the carpet soothing his evening fussiness and learned to open doors while holding a baby too strong and yet too weak to hold one-armed. We have eaten all of our meals and gotten at least six hours of sleep each night, which facts we’re quite proud of. We’re not saying all the meals have been (a) on time, (b) warm, (c) homemade, or (d) eaten at a table. Nor are we saying that the sleep has been enough or in solid chunks.

He’s a baby. What did you expect?

We have burped Evan about 400 times and been spit up on approximately thirty times, between us. Brian has been peed on at least twelve times, me twice. This is thanks to Brian changing more diapers than me early on, not due to my own more impressive skill or tactics. Brian was also projectile pooped on once. Lovely.

We have taken approximately 40 naps between us. More on my end than Brian’s. We have watched 20 episodes of Veronica Mars season one and twelve of Deadwood. We have also seen all sixteen stages of the Tour de France and rooted for a total of two people who have been removed from the tour for ethics / doping violations.

We’ve had eleven visitors.

We have said at least twenty things we never expected to say (“Hey honey, can you come here and look at this poop?”) and kissed Evan thousands of times. Literally.

We have received countless gifts and cards and sent that many thank you cards, minus three. One I haven’t gotten to yet and two we didn’t send — our mothers made explicit rules about no thank you notes during the first few months.

I have lost about fifteen of the twenty-seven pounds I gained during pregnancy and have written nineteen blog posts. I’ve done zero hours of work on my dissertation and have eleven more days of maternity leave. I have at least five phone calls still to return.

It’s been quite a month. And we’ve loved every minute.

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