I should mention that she is smiling now. She started at just shy of three weeks, when I'm sure it was an accident, but it's happening more regularly now. Nothing will make you forgive a rough night like a baby looking you right in the eye and smiling. She often does this while taking a little break in the middle of a feeding. I hope it means she likes the food we serve here.
On Monday I bought a pacifier. I'd tried to get one earlier, but the local CVS had been out of the smaller sizes until then. I got home and offered it to a slightly fussy Margaret, hoping it would help. She immediately spit it out and gave me a look that seemed to say, 'just what are you trying to pull?' I've tried offering it a few times over the past week, but the message has been very clear. Margaret only likes real nipples and will accept no substitutes. That's fine. She's really only fussy when something is wrong. Sadly I haven't been able to fix the spitting up problem we've had lately, but we're seeing her doctor in a bit for her one month checkup, so perhaps he can help with that.
I had a dream last night. Actually two nights previous was the first time I had a dream that I've remembered since the birth. (I've been pretty short on REM sleep here.) Last night was important because it was the first dream that featured Margaret. At one point she was saying words even though she was still only a month old. She's not quite that advanced in real life, but I like to think she's a pretty smart baby. The dream had the disjointed Alice-in-Wonderland feel. Margaret kept changing sizes without it seeming odd. Someetimes she was as big as a six-month old and sometimes she was as small as a micro-preemie, which was when she had the baby ferret in the blanket with her. Basically there was all your standard dream nonsense. There was one thing that got to me when I woke up and thought about it. At one point she had a slightly smaller twin brother who was dressed in the same type of clothes and blanket, just in a different color. It made me think back to how she was, ever so briefly, not a singleton. I wonder if the vanishing twin was male. We'll never know, of course. When my parents were here I showed them what I think of as her first baby picture: the print-out of the three embryos that we transferred. I made some half-joking remark about telling her that one of them was her and the others didn't make it. My parents were horrified and said I shouldn't tell her that. I disagree. I should put it tactfully, but I have absolutely no intention of concealing anything from her. The fact is that so far we've made 19 embryos via IVF and have only one baby to show for it. The fact is that we transfered three embryos on that last cycle, had two of them take, but only she made it past the first few weeks of gestation. I am terrible at keeping secrets or telling lies, so my plan is to go with the truth when she asks for it. In this house we perhaps watch too many nature videos to sugar-coat the fact that survival is not a given. Most human babies do make, at least around here, but the truth is that many human embryos do not. Usually you just aren't aware of the ones that don't make it. I'm really happy we finally had one that made it so far.