All that Hair

After eighteen hours and fifteen minutes of labor I spent two hours and forty-five minutes pushing before I got a Noah out of the deal. For what seemed like the entire 2.75 hours of pushing all I heard was "Look at all that hair!" So there I was in the most unflattering position imaginable, pushing and pushing with no plausible end in sight and every one who came into the room (which was more people than I would have liked) exclaimed, "What a full head of hair!" or "Look at all of that dark hair!" or "Geez, did you have bad heartburn while you were pregnant?" (There is a medically proven link between the amount of hair a baby has and the severity of heartburn a mother experiences. I'm pretty sure we have Eve to thank for that one. I can't explain this link, but if you have any insight please leave a comment.) These concerning comments persisted to the point that I became somewhat worried. Was I giving birth to an ape? Would they, when baby finally entered the world, say, "Congratulations! It's a baboon?" I mean there are actually worse things I could imagine hearing at that point. "Mazel tov! It's a Wookie," tops the list.

At 8:45 when he entered the world he did in fact have a full head of hair, but was thankfully decidedly human.

At his two week appointment, Noah's pediatrician regretfully informed us that in the next two months all of those gorgeous locks would fall out. Our darling babe would be bald in a matter of days.

Not that we would love him any less.

But he had pretty pretty hair.

Only the pediatrician was wrong. That hair kept growing. The side burns fell out, but most everything else stayed long and baby hair luscious. Now, at five months, he's fuzzier than ever.

And more adorable.

And decidedly still human. Yeah!