Gillian hated the adjusted age thing because sometimes she confused herself about how old Owen really was. He had been born in February but he was due in April and that was a two month deficit that meant she took his age by his birthday and subtracted those two months to his due date to give him an adjusted age of four months, when in fact, it was technically six months old. But it was strange because he could do things other babies his 'age' couldn't do, like take a bottle, because he had learnt when he was in the hospital. Plus, his reflux was down because he had been given medications to artificially curb it and with physical therapy it meant he was learning control so much quicker. Lewis had been slow to develop, then leapt ahead in big chunks; Owen seemed to nail some milestones and lag behind in others. Lag behind was harsh, he was actually developing at the same rate his 'peers' were; those babies that were born in April, when Owen was meant to.
For now, Gillian could leave him on the floor beneath his activity centre and not worry about him crawling away; he didn't show a lot of inclination in doing so. She checked his breathing monitor was all right, no loose leads or anything, and then headed upstairs to gather up washing. She took the baby monitor with her, just in case; the transmitter was right by his head so she could hear him. She could get to him within a minute from anywhere in the house and after four months of paranoia she was trying to let go. Yes the alarm went off, but no there had not been an incident that she could not cope with it. She was alone, with Cal at work and Lewis at school, so it was down to her if something happened. If she thought about it, she felt a pang of anxiety that made her hurry up, but she was also learning to trust in herself; she could handle it. As a mother, she had no choice.
Gillian headed back downstairs with the towels for the laundry and stopped to check in on Owen. She put the basket down by the door and approached where he had been lying on his back. Now he was on his front. He had worked the apnoea monitor in front of him and was gazing at the intermittent flashing green 'ok' lights for respiration and heartbeat. He made little 'oh' noises and Gillian watched him stare down the lights without blinking or moving, aside from the occasional little jerk of muscles he was still learning to control properly.
Amused at the kid's amazement with the simple flickering of a few lights (and he had no idea the lights came on in reaction to his own body), Gillian approached and sat down in front of him. His head jerked up further to see her and he smiled, showing off wet gums. "You like that huh?" Gillian asked him. "You like the lights?"
"Ooh," Owen seemed to sigh, kicking his feet against the cushioned blanket behind him.
"Let me find you something cool," Gillian told him, suddenly remembering, getting up again. She went to the basket of toys and searched through, looking for an item in particular. It had been Lewis's and he had outgrown it years ago, but it was much harder to get rid of things that had been his, than it had been to get rid of Lily's.
Gillian had to put fresh batteries in the toy and when she did it was apparent the sound was no longer working, but the lights were. She knelt in front of her son again and put the toy down between them. It flashed the primary and secondary colours in a rotation, then spun around showing them all in a bright rainbow. Owen stared, mouth open, drool slipping from his bottom lip, stunned. He stared for so long Gillian actually leaned in closer to see if he was all right. And then he grinned and waved a hand in the toy's direction. Gillian nudged it a little closer to him and Owen giggled, batting it with his hand, managing to hold himself up on one hand for a moment, before losing his balance and keeling forward.
Gillian leaned down to kiss his head. "You have fun for a second, Mommy's going to put the washing on." He smelt clean and fresh and warm and comforting. She hovered for a while, revelling in the sweet smell of her baby boy. Even Lewis enjoyed sniffing Owen, except when he'd filled his diaper and then it was: 'Mum! Wen smells yucky!'
"Oh, oh," Owen responded as Gillian got to her feet again. As soon as the washing was on, she would be back to lie on the floor with him.