*sigh*

I wanted my next posting in here to be all about life with Veronica - how it's changed, how it's stayed the same, how she continues to amaze us every day. And soon, that sort of thing will be posted here.

But we received a sad interruption to our new life as a family last Thursday, when I received a phone call from my parents, telling me my grandpa had passed away.

What can I say about my Grandpa Alonso? Most of my family knew him a lot better than I did, usually for the reason that they just had been around him for so many more years than I had. All I can tell you is, he was my grandpa. He loved me dearly, and I loved him too. He was always trying to make me laugh, always caring about me. He gauged milestones he had to live for around me - "I need to live to see my granddaughter graduate from high school," he said about a decade ago. He did. It then became, I need to see her graduate from college. Then, I need to see her get married, followed by, I need her to have a great-grandchild. (Not his first great-grandchild, btw, as my cousin David has an 11-year-old daughter.) Last Monday or Tuesday, he got to see a picture of Veronica, and I can't help thinking that he just couldn't set another goal anymore.

Grandpa was 87, and wasn't in good health. My mom keeps saying that it shouldn't be a surprise, then, even though he wasn't in the hospital or anything like that. She keeps saying he lived a full life. But as I told my dad, I don't care that he was 87 - it still doesn't feel like enough time. And while I'm still so happy he got to see a picture of my daughter, I will always be sad that they will never meet.

So Veronica's first road trip was to see her great-grandpa's funeral. I am very happy that both my OB/GYN and her pediatrician OK'd the trip - it's 225 miles from our front door to my mom and dad's house. I was fine, and my parents were thrilled to see her. They just adore her. My grandma just kept telling me what a beautiful baby she is, and my extended family cooed over her as well; her presence there made some people forget, just for a moment, how sad they were. And she wowed everyone when she didn't make a peep throughout the funeral mass or at the cemetary; she just slept in her car seat, stirring occasionally in the church until the choir sang.

Her car trip went well too - so far, she travels better than the cat. :-)

Veronica is growing - although she was born at 9 lb. 6 oz., she was down to 8 lb. 7 oz. by the time we were discharged from the hospital. Some weight loss is to be expected, although hers was a bit much. She's back up to 9 lb. 1 oz. now, and she's grown almost an inch in length according to my imperfect measurements - she is growing so fast!

Her little eyes are starting to focus on everything - faces, as predicted, but also the ceiling fan and the french doors leading out to our patio. She could care less so far about toys, mobiles, or anything else that supposed to hold her interest. She held her own bottle for about 30 seconds on Wednesday evening too, and seems to listen to things you say and songs you sing to her. I know all newborns probably exhibit this behavior, but naturally we're convinced she's a genius. :-)

I need to catch up on my e-mails, in this moment when I should be sleeping as my mom (who followed us home Tuesday and will be leaving tomorrow) talks to my dad on the phone and cleans our bathrooms. As soon as Veronica wakes and we do the obligatory feeding/diaper change, we're taking her to Babies R Us for some more supplies. I'm still hoping to catch a nap; Mom's been up at night, helping me with Veronica's clockwork 3:30 a.m. feeding, but I'm still carrying the brunt of the sleep deprivation as I leave Jason to slumber. (I'm hoping once I head back to work, then we can alternate who does the nighttime duties, but as of now, he's the only one going to work and therefore I'm trying to let him get as much sleep as possible.)

I should probably start pumping breastmilk too. Veronica has had serious problems breastfeeding since day one; she still will not attach to my right side, screaming and crying in frustration. Even attachment on the left side is a two-man job, as Jason needs to hold her in just the right position while I try to manipulate everything so that she can eat. I've taken to feeding her formula and whatever milk I can pump, the latter of which is inexplicably dwindling, even though it's supposed to increase in time and frequency. I feel awful that I can't just toss her on my chest like so many other women can with their children, and that she's not getting the benefits that these other children are. (I'm speaking solely on health purposes, as I don't really believe in the whole bonding/not bonding thing. Case in point: I adored my mom, thought the sun rose and set on her, when I was a child, and the deterioration of our relationship over the years is because of the people we are, not because she fed me formula as a baby.) Plus I fear the looks and such I'm going to get when I say I'm not breastfeeding - I swear, to some people, I might as well be saying that I'm feeding her rat poison. It's this whole idea that I'm lazy and/or completely unconcerned about my child if she's not on my breast a dozen times a day. I'm neither. For whatever reason, she cannot eat directly from me, nor can she solely sustain nourishment from me, and that's all there is to it.

I suppose this posting HAS become more about me and the baby than I had originally planned. And now she's starting to stir - she'll awaken shortly. For all those who I need to e-mail - apologies, you'll get a real message sometime soon. For those who wanted more baby news, more of the fun and possibly snarky stuff, it'll come eventually. As for now, I have a hungry kid waking up, and that takes first priority.