So far, so good with Baby Ben. The C-section surgery went much smoother than the last time, when I felt so much pressure that I deliriously asked the doctor to stop (at which point he knocked me out). Recovery is slow; God bless pain meds.
The hardest part of having Ben was his second day of life. Because that's when Max's seizures started and our lives took a detour through hell. It's normal for babies to shudder and shake, but seeing Ben do so has been unnerving. I told the on-call pediatrician what happened to Max so she'd understand my concern about seizures, and asked her to do an extra-thorough check. I went through the same with Sabrina after she was born.
Ben is fine. Day two of his existence was spectacularly uneventful, other than the arrival of a big poop. (No worries, I won't be reporting on them regularly). Obviously, anything can happen any day...but newborn day two is a mental marker Dave and I needed to get past.
Dave had flashbacks too. At first he was scared to even hold Ben and when he finally picked him up he looked terrified. "I have that time with Max in my head," Dave said, looking sad for a moment. A friend who also has a child with special needs checked in, concerned whether Ben was OK. None of us take a baby's good health for granted.
Day three of Ben's life brought unmitigated bliss. My friend Wendy visited and we celebrated Ben and his cuteness. It felt wondrous to wheel him around the halls of the maternity ward, just like any mom of any newborn.
"Congratulations!" nurses and other parents said, and joy flooded through me...along with relief.