Laugh

I got your first consistent laugh out of you this week, with a simple though lengthy game of peek-a-boo. You laughed so hard, you almost cried (tiredness, I guess). I have had trouble obtaining the same result for a similar performance though, son.

Rock's Playlist

Like most parents of our class and aspirations, we have taken the "it can't hurt" approach to the urban legend that classical music, especially that of Mozart, improves your intelligence and the Deutsche Grammophon CDs I bought when a pretentious student are being played (from a hard drive) more than they ever were in my flat in Hulme in the early nineties.
The symphonies, concertos and occasional opera are being supplemented by the sort of rock I listen to and so you will no doubt get used to the sound of Nirvana, Kings of Leon, Amy Winehouse (who died the day you were born) and a myriad of other talents. I sing "Lithium" to you more than any other song but mostly recite poetry (I learned If and This be the verse after your birth and am intending to learn one or two a month for the foreseeable future).
I never learned to play a musical instrument but I hope that you will, son.

Thriving

Today we watched your first Watford match (v Nottingham Forest at the Vic, we lost 1-0). It was a poor performance but at half-time there was a TV montage of the Golden Boys' golden era. I will try to get you to learn the details later. For now, you are about twice your birth weight at the two-month mark and are just beginning to reach for things. We finally plucked up the courage to take scissors to your monk-like hairstyle two weeks ago and you have less hair than me for a while. You're growing and developing, son.

Life begins

First (definite) smile

You gave me a beautiful smile and gurgled a giggle today. This was the first time I was absolutely sure it was not wind. Didn't get a great picture of it but what a beautiful development, son.

Five weeks in

I love being your dad. My routine at the moment involves waking at 7 and changing, feeding and rocking you to sleep before I go to work. When I return, I get to hold you and feed you again, normally. You are so gorgeous and all your little noises (including your tearless bawling) cause me smiles and laughs. I love this time with you and love the idea of being with you as you grow, son.

Ventricular septal defect

Son, there is a hole in your little heart. Blood leaks from one side to the other but the doctor has told us that it is a very small hole and may well close in time without intervention. It was found after we took you into A&E at the hospital where you were born. You had lost too much weight, son.


You are spending your third night in a row in hospital and I miss you and your mum, who is doing the hard work of caring for you while I go to college to teach.

Yesterday when I went in to see you before work, I was deeply affected by the tube going into your nose and the helplessness any parent would feel in seeing your care in the hands of others.

I left Imperial early to spend more time with you (though actually got some sleep after a restless night). They have been providing you with milk through a pump but your mum has now reintroduced the breast and we hope that your feeding will improve.

We are being told that the hole and your weight-loss & consequent dehydration are unrelated. I guess we hope that is the case. It is midnight in our lonely flat. I miss you, son.