It has been a stressful 5 1/2 weeks. Asher was born at 8lbs even, but lost a considerable amount of weight in the hospital and in the days immediately after - he was down to 6lbs, 10 oz four days after birth, even though my milk was in on the second day. We narrowly escaped having him hospitalized, and slowly, slowly, over his first 5 weeks, he made it back up to his birth weight. He's just over 8lbs now.
I've never had this problem before - Simon and Eli were both born well over 8lbs, dropped a few ounces, and then merrily began growing. But even Isaiah, born a bit early at 6lbs, 10 oz grew steadily. My kids tend to settle just below the 50th percentile in weight (and are all off the charts in height - we're a tall family). I'm not sure if this is a Jewish mother thing or what, but not being able to adequately feed my baby hits into a fairly deep pocket of panic in me.
That said, he's been fine. He's vigorous and healthy, just on the skinny side (little chicken legs). All this has bothered me far more than it ever has him. I'm finally starting to get over it - he slept 6 straight hours last night (hallelujah!!), and I didn't consider waking him to nurse more than twice. Ordinarily, he nurses more or less constantly, interspersing dozing with feeding. I think this was the problem initially - nursing is exhausting, apparently, and it took a while before he could do it for any period of time.
Otherwise, all is well here. Big brothers have been surprisingly pleased about him, even Isaiah, who is ordinarily very possessive of Mommy (for a while I referred to not as "Mommy" but "de lap" - not "a" lap, but "the lap," and no other brothers were welcome upon it.) Simon regularly holds and even feeds Asher, during those rare moments in which Mommy's breasts are temporarily not in play.
Because I am nursing just about every moment, I am not doing much, including posting on this blog. I have never before *longed* to clean - I'm not the most elegant housekeeper you'll ever meet, but boy, just getting up and sorting some laundry without a baby in my arms is such a joy. I try not to appreciate it too much - this is the last baby I'll ever have, and holding him is a pleasure. But with each of my children came the realization that at least for me, there is only so long that can be spent staring adoringly into your child's eyes, before you start looking around for something to read.