Settling in at home

Baby pictures, and not my creative and witty musings, remain the bread and butter of my 'blog,' and of course more of them have been uploaded.

I was the younger of the two children in our family, and in part because of that, I had no clue what it was like to live with a youngster until last Tuesday, when my wife and daughter Sophia came home from the hospital together for the first time. While since then most of the basic baby-care skills have become second-nature, other aspects of nurturing a very young person are not so automatic.

For example, I don't think you can fully appreciate the ravenousness of a fussy two-week old child until you've seen it yourself, and even then it's somewhat difficult to believe. Such fits of hunger seem to occur only during the most awkward times of the night -- oftentimes a few minutes after papa has finally fallen asleep, having successfully put young daughter to sleep and somehow convinced otherwise perfect and beautiful mama to move into a position that at least muffles the snoring, if not drowns it out entirely.

My first reaction to such a burning desire for sustenance on the part of my tiny angelic child is to perhaps consider what exactly is causing all this fussiness. If mama is still asleep, I hope the issue can be resolved by a little bit of rocking or snuggling, as babies do not like to feel as though they are abandoned. So I take Sophia out of her bassinet and lay her on my chest; we sit in a rocking chair, and I slowly caress her face and hold her tiny hands. Sometimes I sing her a song that she may or may not like (Conny has implied to me that the "Star Spangled Banner" is inappropriate, but honestly it's the only song of reasonable length to which I know all of the words) or I make one up. Or I just say her name to her over and over again. These methods rarely work -- the problem is almost always hunger.

It's kind of funny really, because when friends come by to see her, almost everyone falls in love with her. This is because she's absolutely adorable -- I'm totally in love with my little daughter as well, I'll fully admit that. But if there's a time when I begin to lose my patience, it's at 2 in the morning when she's screaming in my ear and simultaneously ripping the hairs out of my chest with her tiny but amazingly powerful fists, in a animalistic search for breastmilk with which I am unable to provide her.

It hurts the ears and the chest, but I still love her for it.

On parenting; Ode to Moms; Grass on Grass

Sophia and Papa enjoy a nap. I've added more photos online, and will continue to do so. The newest pictures are at the bottom of the list.

I've only been a dad for three days now, and while I enjoy it far more than I ever thought I would, I must say it can also be pretty tiring at times. Sophia doesn't really like to do anything other than sleep and eat right now, and even the latter part of that combination is given a rather secondary importance in her young mind -- this despite the fact that she's a good bit smaller than other babies her age. But she's helped us to realize the driving force behind a few basic human experiences -- why moms all over the world always worry about whether your coat is warm enough clothes or if you're eating enough, for example.

Practically speaking, we're also learning some little tricks to get Sophie to drink all of her milk, to burp on cue, to help us change her clothes, and to let us change her diaper. I'm sure it sounds easy enough, but imagine what it must feel like to be so drowsy that you keep falling asleep while eating dinner. Surround yourself by giants and poop your pants, and then you might have some small notion of what it feels like to be my daughter these days. She's still tuckered from the birth, and frankly, I'm pretty dopey myself when I finally come home from the hospital (although I know you are all clicking away desperately on your browser's bookmark to my blog, waiting for the next update, so I stay up anyway and write.)

Pooped as I may be at the end of the day (fortunately for me I mean it in the figurative sense here), I must say I have a new found respect for Conny and for all mothers out there. Although I have to worry about the things I mentioned above, she has a much heavier load. Not only is she still a little sore from the birth, she is the most important source for Sophia's nutrition. Sophie doesn't always want to suckle directly, so we have to hook Mama up to this hydraulic breast pump so that we can give her more from a bottle. According to Conny: the pump works "exactly the way it looks," and if you ask me, it looks like some kind of cross between a science fiction gizmo and a Guantanamo Bay torture device. But still, she has to pump about eight times a day and doesn't really complain about it -- even though I can't keep a straight face when she switches it on.

Furthermore, she has to wake up twice in the middle of the night to pump and to feed Sophie as well, so she hasn't really slept a full night since before she gave birth. So next time you think about sneering at the woman breastfeeding at the park or at the playground, well, don't sneer. Your mom went through a lot, not only to bring you into this world, but also to keep you alive when you were so young and helpless you didn't care if your pants were soiled or not. Moms are amazing people.

Interesting Grass article: One of the few non-baby things I've done since Sophie was born was to read my latest New Yorker, which has a very interesting "Personal History" article by the Nobel Prize-winning author Günter Grass. He recently acknowledged having enlisted in the Waffen SS as a teenager during World War II -- controversial because he had been highly critical of some Germans who made the same or similar decisions -- and this autobiographical article explores his memories of that time and tries to come to conclusions about why he made the choices he made. It's the first time I've seen this account translated into English, and it's very interesting reading for anyone who is interested in that time period or in Grass. And if you haven't read The Tin Drum or at least seen the movie, well, go check it out.

Meet Sophia

Sophia Charlotte, the newest member of the Saunders clan. She was born this morning at 8:40 and weighed 2355 grams (five pounds and three ounces.)

Maybe it's a cliché that the day your child is born is the best day in your life. Regardless, it is a pretty impressive experience, one that I've always heard runs the full gamut of emotions. And now that I've experienced it in my own right, I would certainly concur. They also say that you can already get to know your child immediately. I'd have to agree with that one as well. Here are a couple of interesting things that I think I might have already discovered about my daughter on the first day:

Sophie does not like to wait around. Perhaps it's the German half of her that appreciates Pünktlichkeit, or perhaps it comes from her American grandparents, who always like to get where they're going before they need to be there. Regardless, if Sophie's willingness to leave the womb -- she took only two hours after serious contractions set in -- is any indication of the way she intends to conduct her personal affairs, I would recommend that you all show up at the appointed time when you come to meet her.

Sophie likes to nap. Although she was a little fussy for a couple of hours after she left her mother's womb, she quickly proceeded to take a long afternoon nap, giving her mom and chance to doze off and her dad the chance to snap off a bunch of pictures.

Sophie does not like cold objects. She would much rather snuggle under a blanket or a freshly washed towel than, say, have her diaper changed, even though it's almost 90 degrees Fahrenheit outside. She also enjoys wearing stylish hats.

I'm sure Conny and I will learn much more about her in the coming days... thanks again for all of your calls and messages. Everyone's doing well. We're hoping to bring Sophie home on Friday after she undergoes another routine check-up.

No baby yet

Our baby's identity remains concealed for the time being, not entirely unlike the delicious filling one finds inside homemade Chinese dumplings (jiaozi).

Conny and I checked into the delivery room this morning, which was actually pretty laid back compared to what we'd seen on television. And considering the fact that we've already visited there a number of times, it's not like we're confused with where we need to go. We already know where the the nicest park benches are located in the courtyard and where you can go for a walk or buy an ice cream cone. The pre-birthing room we have is pretty nice -- a double bed and no rooming partners; I can stay the night there without problem.

The birth inducement in and of itself is painless -- Conny has to take some capsules that trigger all the right hormones every four hours or so, and then they hook her up to a cardiogram machine to make sure the baby is not reacting strangely to the medication. Conny's had two doses as of 6:00 p.m., and so far, everything has proceeded normally. If all goes well, the doctors anticipate "birthing worthy" contractions anytime within the next couple of days, although it can take longer.

For me personally, there isn't actually all that much to do. I left for a couple of hours just now to post this update and the make a few phone calls and eat some dinner. This afternoon for example, I took a nap and Conny and I played chess. (I won.) Business as usual.

Anyway, hopefully I'll be posting again here fairly soon with some baby pictures. Thanks for your phonecalls and text messages and whatnot. We'll get back to you all soon.

A German baby boom

Between my wife and my soon-to-be-born daughter, we now have an entire load of laundry consisting of various shades of pink.

Continuing in the vein of baby chat -- frankly beyond that, Chinese food and studying German, there isn't much else on my mind these days -- I'm amazed at the sheer numbers of babies one sees on the streets here in Berlin. This is certainly due in part to the fact that the weather has been generally dry and warm, prompting numerous mothers to take their little sprites out of the apartment and down to the lake, playground, or ice cream stand. But beyond that, there are several reasons you may or may not be aware of that have promoted a minor baby boom here in Germany. Did I mention our diapering table is on backorder?

Reason number one: As of Jan. 1 this year, the federal government now offers a generous compensation package for new mothers who want to take an "Elternjahr," -- a work pause of up to 12 months at approximately 2/3 of normal salary. It's a very good deal, and for well-paid women (although men are also eligible) it's an attractive arrangement. We're certainly happy to take advantage of it.

Reason number two: The German economy, plagued by unemployment and uncertainty ever since reunification, seems to be showing some signs of pep. Said unemployment rate, while lower but still absurdly high in many parts of the former east, is now reported at the relatively low rate of 9.1% nationwide, as opposed to 12.2% about a year and a half ago.

Reason number three: I once saw a German soccer fan sporting a scarf with the inscription (translated somewhat more politely) "soccer, sex, and alcohol." While most people -- at least those in the bar hopping crowd -- would probably tell you that the last two have something to do with each other, personally, I was never quite sure what, if any, connection existed between the first two. But being in Germany now, approximately a year after the world's greatest celebration of soccer came to this country, it sure does seem like there are a lot of two and three month old tots being whisked about in carriages.

Babies and such

Conny, most certainly not experiencing labor pains.

I'm always trying to maintain some sort of rhythm in my life, but frankly it's pretty difficult when you know that any minute your wife could go into labor. Not only are any long term plans on hold, I don't even feel safe going to the bar for a beer. You never know what could start happening in those two hours or so, and the last thing I want to do is show up at the hospital smelling like fermented hops, my wife wafting German-language criticisms at me in sync to the primeval pangs of impending motherhood.

A part of my anxiety comes from last night, when the midwife that conducts our birthing class gave us a very vivid interpretation of what the various stages of labor look and sound like. It involved a lot of heavy breathing, moaning, and what appeared to be representations of a great deal of pain and provoked furled eyebrows and a few open-mouthed stares from the several couples in attendance. The performance was indeed convincing and made me very thankful to be a man, but also certain that I don't want to have be coping with something even slightly resembling a hangover while fulfilling my Support Role... another reason I probably won't be visiting the bar anytime soon.

But beyond being slave to an obviously impending stroke of nature -- something that restricts how I use my freetime, but in the end, not something that bothers so much -- there are of course a lot of other things to take care of for our soon to be expanding household, many of which require the attention of a person who is medically permitted to lift items weighing more than 5 kilograms and who doesn't need to take regular naps. Only recently have Conny and I fully started to comprehend the practical implications of our child's arrival -- that she will soon be living with us and require a variety of services (to be rendered by ourselves) and baby care products (to be purchased with our money). It was therefore necessary to spend the entire day today cataloging the items that we already have and purchasing a few odds and ends that we hadn't yet acquired. We accomplished this in part at a store on Kurfurstendamm called Baby-Walz, which is I suppose something like Babies R Us but in European format, i.e., less tacky but more expensive.

There, where I was certainly one of the few adult males ever to have set foot, one could find quite a thorough assortment of baby items, from breast pumps (a technology I doubt I will ever fully appreciate) to rectal thermometers (ouch) to designer diaper pails. While I found the sheer economics of it all to be a bit overwhelming and displeasing, I must say when I came across a wee tot or lass in the course of the shopping day, it was quite pleasing to think that the wife and I will soon be nurturing our own small person, who hopefully will -- at some point, at least -- appreciate my wit, good looks, and 'blog' entries. In other wods, I think that in the end, as the cliché goes, I think it will all be worth it.