Off with the button into the bath

So, this is old news to us, but last week, what was left of JB's umbilical cord fell off.

It was 6:23pm on October 5th- almost exactly one week after he was born (for the memory-challenged, he was born at 6:24pm on Sept 28th.) We thought that was a little weird- the correlation of time down to the minute. Taking into account the fact that time is relative (most especially in a sleep deprived existence) and all digital clocks are not running on one specific time... I mean, how do we know that the O.R. clock was set correctly anyway?!? Probably my cell phone is kept more exact by it's satellite/GPS connection than the wind up clock at Catholic Urban Hospital's Operating room suite. But anyway, we must all learn to deal with such imperfections.

The important thing is that the cutie-pie that can now be submerged completely in water - now that the opening into his abdomen has sealed over... and boy, did he love it!!!




By the way, if you want to keep yourself up late one night, totally freaked out about embryology and the nature of how/why we as human animals survive, consider this: All fetal life is sustained by the placenta and the umbilical cord until BIRTH. Whether by vaginal delivery or by planned or emergent c-section, once the baby is outside of the mother's body, the cord is clamped and cut and we all know what happens on the outside of the infants body: the cord shrivels up and falls off within a week or two, creating the kind of gross* but endearing reminder that we were all once tethered to and birthed out by our moms.

But guess what happens on the inside of the baby. That umbilical cord that has been the only source of blood to and from the heart and lungs, liver and kidneys, also just DRIES UP... Once you start breathing air, your circulatory system changes entirely, the umbilical cord inside the baby...

It.
Just.
Closes.
Off.

Disappears...

Chew on that, friends...
Ponder that a little and tell me it doesn't keep you up late at night wondering!
Tell me that doesn't make you want to offer a little prayer to the great designer in the heavens!

*While we recognize and acknowledge the symbolic, stupefying wonder of them, Katy and I are not fans of belly buttons in general. The only person I willingly let touch mine was Mackenzie when she stuck a tiny finger in there to point to where her baby cousin was. And somehow during our relationship, without meaning to, I taught my wife to be grossed out by "buttons" as well.