Those First Days

That first full day in the hospital I got acquainted with my son. We would just sit and look at each other. And I am still of the opinion that my beautiful and brilliant child smiled even before we left the hospital. I always knew what I wanted to name my son. In hindsight, it was a good thing that I didn't have to fight it out with anyone. Both names were family names from my family. Alexander for my great great grandfather and Clinton is my father's and grandfather's middle name. I was also very intrigued in the meaning on names. Alexander is Greek and means "Defender of the people". Clinton is English and means "from the headlands" or "on a hill" So his name means "The Defender of the people from the headlands". Sounds regal, doesn't it?

I spend at least one extra day in the hospital because of my difficult delivery (I'll spare you the details. No one ever really wants to hear them). When we were dismissed, I didn't take him home as I had planned. We went to my parents home for a couple days. It was a little odd. Not in a bad way, but I remember feeling that though I needed the help in some ways, I just wanted to be home by myself to settle in. That first night with my parents was probably the worst. I was breast feeding and that wasn't going the greatest, I was stiff and sore and my stitches were already starting to hurt and because I wasn't home, I didn't get to sleep in my own bed, but on a little twin sized bed in my parents guest room. I was miserable. I didn't know which end hurt more. I can look back on the visual I can laugh, but it didn't seem very funny at the time.

Eventually we made it home. I remember being a little scared when my mom left, but I also remember shutting the door walking into the nursery were my son lay sleeping and thinking.... Ok, it's just you and me kid.......Now what