| March 27th, 2024 |
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So, the baby had a rough afternoon. Midwife visit which meant health checks (which he hates) and a bit of schedule disruption. By about 5pm he was a bit overtired and ratty and wouldn't settle down at all.
I decided it was worth seeing if he was overstimulated, so I took him upstairs to my room and basically had him in a dim, quiet room (I had white noise on until there was a risk I'd fall asleep because it's the white noise I usually sleep to) and he finally settled down.
He really needed to sleep, so... three hours of lying on my bed with him sleeping on my chest for me!
While I was doing that, I called my dad (speaking softly) for some information I urgently needed.
The baby made a little noise while I was talking to Dad. Just one of those little baby noises newborns make.
My dad - who is, normally, kind of a robot, he's never been officially assessed but we're pretty damn sure he's autistic - broke off mid-sentence to coo and get audibly choked up about the existence of his grandson. Who has, and I quote, "Won [his] heart."
I'm having feelings of my own about it.
Dad's going through a rough time with his cancer right now and a friend of his died last week. I think the baby might be giving my father a reason to keep going.
And just... my daddy loves my baby.
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