For those that asked- he was 8lbs 13oz and 19.75in long. Soooo... he was pretty big.
We named him V.inc.ent- it means, "conquering" or "victorious". We'd picked it out all the way back during our NT scan, since no matter what happened he deserved a name. It was a strong name... a hopeful name.
We're still working on breastfeeding. His latch is improving a lot, and I'm getting more milk out. Obviously not a copious amount since my milk hasn't "came in" yet... but enough for him to get a fill of it, I guess. We are supplementing when he gets really hungry... it doesn't seem to hurt our progress much, he still prefers the breast, roots towards me obsessively, and makes really grossed out faces when we give him formula. (eta: we are working with lactation consultants, running everything by them and taking their advice)
I'll be glad when we leave the hospital. They keep interrupting our bonding/breastfeeding time to take the baby for a check, or to check my vitals... or housekeeping knocks, the food service people, the photography people, you name it they'll show up just when I'm in the middle of something. Just tonight for instance, new nurse taking over came with old nurse so she could brief her on everyone's situation... comes in while I'm trying to breastfeed. New nurse then comes in while we're having skin on skin bonding time, V- had fallen asleep on me... I was loving it, and instead of putting him back in the crib I let him stay there... yeah, she needed to check my surgical site and take the baby to be weighed. Seriously? You can't do that at another time? Really. making. me. angry. This hospital is supposed to be very pro-breastfeeding, and I'm finding it to be not at all as advertised.
And I've got to go now, V- just woke up :) How I love him, even when he's wailing. His cry is so cute.