Nils

He's here now. All went well. All is well.

And his name is Nils. Why Nils? Briefly:

We wanted a German name. Something that was short and sweet, but left a good tone ringing in our ears. After we had decided on Nils and I was chatting with my mother one afternoon, she joked that we should name the baby something Norwegian. His last name was German, after all. His middle name (my maiden name) was Finnish. Shouldn't his name cover all his ethnicities? Just for kicks I went to a couple "Norwegian boy names" websites and sure enough, there was Nils. Settled. 

A couple months later I was having a daydreamy doodle-type moment, and wrote out his name on a piece of paper. It was the first time I had ever done this, and something about it struck me as odd. It turns out that "Nils" is composed entirely of letters from the name "Allison". I know, I know. That probably isn't so meaningful. It's not an exact anagram after all (Nilsalo? Can't do that to him.), but something about it just feels nice to me. I spent nine months forming him. His cells came from mine, he listened to the blood running through my veins. I imagine little parts of me breaking away to form parts of him... and it seems so right that a few letters broke away from my name to form his. Wouldn't it be nice if for the rest of my life, every time I heard his name I remembered that bond? You know, because I'm in danger of forgetting and all.

On to pictures:

One day old in his hospital bassinet.

Sleeping on my shoulder. I know it looks like I've got a sneer on my face, but I swear I'm just looking down.

With Oliver after a long and difficult night. Both finally getting to do what they want - sleep.

Nearly a week old now, and flashing those eyes of his at us.

Babies don't smile at this stage, I know.Doesn't it look like he's smiling, though?