My First Night Away

We have reached another milestone. Not one that I am particularly happy about, but one that is worthy of being recorded. Tonight I am spending my first night away from my son. Okay, well let me qualify that. Tonight I am spending my first night away from my HEALTHY son. The hospital in Syracuse is a different story. Tonight, he is home and I am in New York City. My emotions are mixed. I will miss him. I am obsessed with wanting to pump and keeping my milk supply up. I am also worried that it will be a long and grueling night for grandma who is watching over TJ.

It is a funny feeling. I know that TJ will be fine. I know my mom will do a wonderful job caring for him. But I feel as if I am giving someone else my job to do. It’s a job that I have learned how to do over the past 5.5 months. Getting up with TJ two, sometimes three, times a night is something that I am used to. It’s a mom’s (and dad’s) job that we do out of love and obligation. TJ, dad, and I have come up with a nightly pattern. Seeing my face is something that TJ is used to. Tonight it is going to be different. How will he respond? Will he even notice that mom is not there? Will he cooperate for my mom? Are they going to be up all night because TJ is not used to the change? I want things to go well. I don’t want TJ to stress out. I do not want my mother to stress out. I know cognitively that what will be will be and that my mother is very capable of handling a crying, fussy baby. Emotionally, I do not want that for either of them. I feel that it is my role as a mother to deal with a crying fussy baby. But for me it is another thing to hand that over to another person to deal with.

The decision to go away on this trip was a tough one for me. I am away on business—traveling to NYC to attend a very upscale alumni event. It sounds exciting and very fun—something I would be so excited to do pre-baby. But now it is a bit different. I feel like I am running away from an obligation. Yet, I also know that I have to “cut the cord” at some point. My job is going to involve a fair amount of travel, so at some point I am going to have to go away and leave my baby in the care of someone else.

What made this trip even harder is that this “someone else” was not going to be Rich. He too is away attending a conference with the Army Reserves. Thank goodness my mother is in town to fill in the overnight gap. In some ways, when I first agreed to go on this trip and make it my first overnight away from TJ, I giggled to myself knowing dad was going to get a bit of education on what nights are like for mom. Rich is a partner in raising TJ, don’t get me wrong. But because we have chosen to breastfeed TJ, by nature, I am a bit more involved in the night time care of our little boy. Dad hears the baby cry, sometimes goes to get him, but then is able to drift off to sleep while mom and TJ are nursing.

I’ll be calling and checking in quite often, this I am certain of. I also know I will not be able to sleep through the night. . . although it would be nice, I know that 5.5 months of waking up every three to four hours will not reverse itself literally overnight.

Sigh. I hope everything goes well.

Thanksgiving

So much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. Yes, it sounds cliche, however it is true. I am blessed to have a happy, healthy boy, a wonderful husband, and a mother who was able to join us for our Thanksgiving celebration. Grandma is in town. How wonderful it is to have her here. Last time she saw TJ was when he just got out of the hospital and was in his recovery mode. . . that was three months ago. My, how he has grown and how he has changed.

This Thanksgiving was rather exciting, as we also had Samantha for the long weekend and we hosted two Cornell students for dinner. TJ was a perfect baby the whole day. He was cute, and talkative, and interacted with our guests very well. He even took a 2 hour nap during the most hectic time of the day: the final preparations for the meal and the meal itself. Now that is something to be thankful for: a baby that knows when to sleep.

Thanksgiving also marked the first day the TJ experienced solid foods. We thought that Thanksgiving, of all days, would be a great day to introduce TJ to solids. It's a day that revolves around a meal, so shouldn't he take part too? Baby's first meal: rice cereal. Result: a whole lot of mess, not much success. TJ was not so sure what to do with the creamy paste that was being shoved into his mouth. He liked to make faces and spit it back out. We met greater success when I let him suck on my rice cereal filled finger. He also enjoyed playing with the spoon on his own, passing it between his two hands and sucking on the curved end. It was if he knew what to do with it and wanted to feed himself.

I realized today that the entry into the world of solid foods is not going to be as easy as I thought. It takes a lot of energy, effort, and patience to feed a baby—and the willingness to get a little messy too.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The Time Has Come

Okay, alright. I know we have not written a post for such a long time. I am sorry for that. There have been plenty of melt-your-heart moments and little stories to share. True, we have been busy, that only makes sense. However, we also have not been writing because of a request that Rich has made of me that has proven to be rather difficult. Our conversation over a month ago went something like this:

Rich: Honey, you really need to write an entry about our hospital stay, TJs health and everything that happened.

Lisa: Ugh. That's so hard to do. I am so much more comfortable with writing the happy stories. It is going to be tough to relive those 13 days in the hospital. How can I capture the experience, the fear, the frustration? I'd rather not.

Rich: Okay, fine. Just know that I will not be writing in the blog until you share the hospital story.

End of discussion.

Rich has been true to his word. He has not written. I have not written. But now that more time has passed and I have been able to distance myself from TJs roller coaster second month and I know he has rebounded healthy as ever, I am ready to write.

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It all started the day he turned two months old. I know this well because it happened while I was taking his "two month" picture. TJ got sick. Throw-up sick. Like out-his-mouth-and-his-nose-sick. Scared me. Scared him. But after that little episode it was back to the daily routine. He seemed fine. And then it happened again. More vomit. Lots of it. This was far from spit up. Two days later, it was still going on. Poor guy. Okay, let's go to the doctor.

The doctor's visit was rather routine. No fever. No on-the-spot vomiting. Keep watching him. Might be a virus. Better for baby to stay home with mom and dad head down to North Carolina to pick up Sam from Seafarer. Great, thanks. Now mom is solo with her sick baby and missing our planned trip down south. Sigh.

Day three. The vomiting has stopped. YEA! However, it has been replaced by amazingly messy diarrhea. Ugh! This poor child. Nothing is staying down or in. He eats and then 30 minutes later it flushes right out of him. And what neon green, runny, nasty, poop! Today he slept all day. Go figure. I would too. He is definitely not doing well.

Day four. Went back to the doctor. Still no fever. TJ has lost weight. Doctor says try to keep him hydrated. TJ chugs a bottle of pedialite. Gosh, he is sooo hungry. But of course, none of that stays down either. We think he was just drinking it too fast. Hang in there. The virus will pass.

Day five. TJ is not sleeping. He is not happy. I am trying to keep him hydrated, but it is just not working. I have never done so much laundry in such a short period of time. Diapers can't hold it. Every time he poops it just goes everywhere. This was a very, very long day.

Rich and Samantha arrive home that night. Rich is frightened with how frail TJ looks. He has lost his color, his energy, and his spunk. He no longer cries. He just whimpers. We call the doctor at night and he asks us to come in on Sunday morning.

Day Six. I am exhausted. So when the doctor says that we are going to the hospital I do not put up much of a fuss. TJ has lost weight and is severely dehydrated. He is still pooping fluid. He is going to need an IV. My poor little baby is so sad. I feel so helpless and so ready for the hospital's care.

Two months and six days after TJs birth, we are right back to the same hospital with the same nurses. It was a weird feeling. Last time I was at the hospital I was a nervous but excited new mom. I had no idea what I was getting into. That day, I was still a nervous mom. More confident than before, but still very unsure about all that was going on. Why is he sick? How did he get this way? What can I do to help this little creature? I was not prepared to spend the night. But when the situation arises, you make the best of it. Rich brought a change of clothes and a toothbrush. Enough to get by for the night.

Of course that night ended up turning into four days. I was miserable. TJ had an IV in his little arm-- and what a challenge and a heart-break that was to put in! It was so hard to be cooped up in a little 10x12 foot room when you are used to taking a baby out on walks, or even to the next room. How on earth am I supposed to entertain a baby all day in one little hospital room? Sure, it was easy to rise to the occasion for one overnight, but I had to experience a whole attitude shift to be at the hospital for four days. Yes, I was very concerned for TJ. But at this point of the experience I was also very cognizant of how a hospital stay was a crimp on my maternity leave. I was lonely. I felt trapped.

Rich was a rock star for going back and forth between home, work, and the hospital. He stayed as long as he could each day. He was a support. But it was so hard for me to watch him get the opportunity to leave the hospital and "escape" for the night. TJ and I were attached. Yes. I wanted to comfort him, to care for him. But in many ways, things had spiraled out of my control. I became a familiar, safe face for him and his constant source of food.

Things looked up when the doctor said we were free to go home on August 15. TJ had rebounded. His color was back, his personality was emerging, and he looked healthy. His fluids had been replenished. But he was still passing this liquid green poop. The doctor said that the virus would shake itself in a matter of days. So off we went to our home. I was ecstatic. The first thing we were going to do when we got home was take a walk! It was time to reclaim my maternity leave. Or so I thought. . .

Day 11 marked a trip to the doctors so that he could monitor TJs recovery. Well, nothing had really changed. In fact, TJ was back to looking frail, ash, and sullen. He was not coping well off of the IV. He needed more attention. So, it was back to the hospital for us. What had happened? We thought TJ was better. Why does he seem to be going backwards again? Are we really going back?

At this point, I knew the hospital and the IV were the best thing for my little guy. On route, it was like a switch flipped on inside of me. I finally got it. I got this lesson of motherhood. TJ needed to be at the hospital and so did I. Gone were the selfish desires of wanting to be at home because it was more comfortable for me. Gone were the little pity parties I would throw for myself in my mind. Instead, a sense of relief entered me. They will help us at the hospital. I will use this stay to make darn sure that TJ gets all of the care that he needs from all the people that he possibly can. My goal changed from trying to get out of the hospital as quickly as we could to getting TJs health back on track.

The next few days were possibly one of the toughest stretches of my life. It was hard to watch my little baby boy deteriorate before my eyes. He was not getting better. He continued to lose weight. The doctors were dumbfounded. There were periods of time during the day that TJ would cry uncontrollably as if in serious pain. We would do our best to soothe him, but this little guy was not doing well and it showed. Finally, a nurse took a greater interest in all that was going on and told us that what we were seeing was a "failure to thrive" and we had to be more deliberate in feeding him and giving him the nourishment he needs. So with the doctor's approval, we took him off breast milk and attempted to give him a gentle formula.

He was not too happy with the change. He refused a bottle. So we ended up feeding him via tube and syringe. Feeding him this way was very trying for all involved. I'd hold and comfort him and the nurses would squirt a bit of foul smelling formula into his mouth. He would make a face, cry, and spit some of it out. Then the whole process would repeat itself. We had a specialist come in and monitor TJ. His thought was that TJs intestinal track was stripped raw and he was having a very difficult time digesting anything at this point-- even breast milk. The formula was supposed to be milder on the system. So we tried this for the next few days.

I really think that at this second hospital stay, I learned how to be a mom. TJ and I bonded over the next six days that we stayed in our little room in the hospital. How could we not? The days went slow, but yet they also went fast. I learned what made him cry. I learned how he liked to be put to sleep. I learned how to swaddle the baby with IV tubes coming from every direction. I learned that there is nothing like relying on a good nursing staff to help you through the tough days and the tough nights. I learned how devoted my husband was to his family. I learned the meaning of family when my mother drove up from North Carolina to be with us and offer support and help. I was thankful that so many friends came by to lend their support. I was touched when our pastor came to visit and to offer his prayers.

But after six days we still saw very little improvement. In fact, I think he even looked worse. His muscles were starting to deteriorate. There was no baby fat. He looked sick, sad, and sullen. Something needed to change. I was going to listen to the doctor, see what he had to say and then request additional medical support-- even if it meant to go to another hospital.

The change that we decided upon was to seek additional medical attention up in Syracuse. The doctor suggested it himself. He said that we had really depleted the services available to us in Ithaca. Syracuse had some additional specialists and nurses that could administer special IVs that would be more effective. So in a matter of hours, TJ and I boarded the ambulance that was going to take us to Upstate Medical Hospital. Earlier that week, Rich and I wondered how they transported infants in ambulances. There are really no seats to use a car seat, so what do they do? Little did we know at that time that we would discover the answer during our own ride. The answer: strap the car seat on the stretcher. Fascinating.

The atmosphere at Upstate was significantly different than in Ithaca. First of all, the children and their families were pouring out of the rooms. It was crowded. There seemed to be children everywhere. There were kids in high chairs in the hallway. There were kids in metal cribs that looked more like cages. There were babies swaddled in their crib with music playing left totally unattended. There seemed to be no security system. Could I have just taken any child and run out without being noticed?

I quickly discovered there was going to be no private room for us. The days of private rooms and nurses waiting on us hand and foot were over. As we were getting settled in our corner of a semi private room, I went to change TJ's diaper. He did leak again. And yes, he leaked all over me, but this time, to my great surprise, what came out of him was no longer a neon green. What?! Could it be? Is the formula working? I was hopeful, but also very cautious in our new surroundings.

I must have been interviewed by 10 medical students and 3 doctors. . . of course the interviewed me at all different times. We were even a "teachable moment" on one of the medical student tours. "Ooohh, see this baby? He is severely dehydrated. See how is skin does not spring back? See how his eyes are sunken and his skin has a grayish tone to it?" After a quick show and tell they continued on their tour-- not even stopping to talk or to acknowledge me. Ummm, hello? That's great, we all know he is dehydrated and has lost a lot of weight. NOW FIX HIM! I remember being really furious at this point of the day.

Of course my mood did not get any better when the specialist who was assigned to TJ said that we were not to feed him for the rest of the night. I said to him point blankly, "You are going to starve my child? How is this going to help? Doesn't he need to gain weight?" We negotiated TJ's care and he did agree to pedialite should he wake up and cry. A small victory for a mom and her cub.

That night, I stayed around the corner at the Ronald McDonald House. As mentioned, the rooms were tight and was not really set up to have mothers sleep by their children's side. It's funny. When we went to the hospital for the first time, I was not that thrilled to feel trapped by TJ's side. I was really looking for a way to sleep at home--or at least not in the hospital and feel like a patient myself. Now, 10 days into our hospitalization, I was full of anxiety knowing that I could not be by TJ's side all night. Who was going to rock him? How long would they let him cry? My, how things change. I left the hospital that night at midnight after meeting the nurse that was assigned to him. The next day, I came back by 7 AM.

And what I came back to what such a surprise. TJ didn't look like his skinny old self. He was fat. Huh? Is this my child? What happened? Did you swap kids on me in the middle of the night? I was amazed. How could he turn around so quickly like this? It was wonderful. I remember calling Rich and my mother to tell them to hurry on up to Syracuse, I think we turned a corner. So starving my child worked? That and the fact that his IV fluid was a slightly different mixture of chemicals. My mood was starting to improve. I felt a sense of relief. Okay, I thought. Maybe this hospital is not so bad after all.

We ended up staying at Upstate for three days. TJ was on the mends, gaining weight, and accepting formula from a bottle. Of course the formula that the doctor prescribed to us was $50 a can. Yep, my boy has got expensive taste! Let's see if that follows him throughout life. The specialist declared my breast milk unfit, told me to stop nursing, and give him only formula. In fact our discharge papers said "breast milk allergy". This of course came with a whole lot of implied insecurities about how fit I was to be a mother. Did I do something wrong? Why is TJ allergic to me?

All of this mommy guilt stayed with me long after we left the hospital and took a long time to rectify. How could TJ develop an allergy to my breast milk if this is all he has been getting since his birth? Could I change my diet and make it all right for him? Maybe he just needs some time on this expensive formula until he heals himself. Now I was all the more determined to pump and return to breastfeeding my child. All because someone told me, "no." And yes, that is what eventually happened. Two weeks later, we reintroduced breast milk and TJ has been thriving and doing well. And now, I had a freezer stocked with breast milk for my return to work.

Eighteen days of illness. Thirteen days in the hospital. Three hospital visits. An obscene number of diapers (thank goodness the hospitals supplied those). And thankfully, at the end: one healthy child.

Back to Work

Maternity leave is over. Darn. I miss it. I miss him. I have been "back" for two weeks now, and I am adjusting slowly. I have managed to ease back into work part time. This has been wonderful as I can go to work, push some papers around, and then hurry back home to spend time with my son. Its funny how when I spend three entire months with this little amazing being how weird it is when he is not by my side. I feel like a part of me is missing.

Finding good, quality day care is challenging where we live. All of the centers have waiting lists for months and only a handful take infants. Moreover, home based day care is a crap shoot and one is never really sure what they will get. For a few months now I have been surfing Craig's List and asking around only to come up dry. Rich and I spoke of our ideal situation as having an older woman, grandma type look after TJ for the first year. A situation where we really knew that TJ was getting some individualized attention.

Well, I must say that we are truly blessed because that is what we found-- and she was right under our nose. Olga. Quite a fitting name for a woman who looks after a child, don't you think? Seriously, Olga is from Romania. She has got a slight accent. She has 30 years of day care experience. She is the nursery care provider at our church on Sundays. She was not working during the week. She lives 3 blocks away from us. AND she comes to our house. No joke.

Yes, she has got her quirks. The first day she was with TJ she brought a bottle of holy water "just in case" Just in case what? Rich and I wondered. She was worried (based on the day before) that TJ would cry all day. Apparently the holy water was going to be used if he got out of hand. Just exactly how it was going to be used, we are not so sure. But hey, she has not used it yet.

The first week of care, Olga did all kinds of crafts with TJ. One day I came home to find a cut out of a little boy hanging on our staircase banister. Rich thought it was an early Halloween decoration ("it looks like a ghost", he said). Turns out it was an exact outline of the shape of our child. He was quite squirmy that day. The next day I came home to find a modern art rendition of an American Flag hanging on our door. The stars and stripes were created by TJ's feet. Of course, I did make a mental note of the fact that you do not use blue paint on a child's toes and then go to a nurse practitioner's appointment the same day. We nearly caused the nurse heart failure because she thought that TJ had lost all circulation in his feet.

So things are working out well. We are blessed. I can go to work feeling confident that TJ is getting cared for, held, loved, and even spoiled by a woman named Olga. Sure, I wish it was me instead. But this is a terrific second option. So far so good.

Sizing

Just a fun little milestone today: TJ wore his first item of clothing that was marked size 3-6 months! Our "chunkers" is growing up. Now of course sizing is all relative. I have several items of clothing marked 0-3 months that he is still too small for. Go figure.

TJ: Version 2.0

Ever since we have gotten back from the hospital, in addition to the nickname "chunkers" we have been referring to our little bundle of joy as our new and improved TJ. We have gotten an upgrade at the hospital and we are now on version 2.0. He smiles more, he sleeps more, and he seems much more playful than he has ever been. And yesterday was testimony to this.

There we were-- dad, grandma, and mom-- all huddled over the bed marveling at TJ. We were in awe and amazement over the transformation that seemingly occurred overnight. TJ woke up with the ability to coo, gurgle, and. . . well. . . talk. It was amazing. He was laughing in his baby laugh, oohing, and aahing, kicking his legs like he has never kicked before. He was one happy baby.

We would talk, he would respond. He would talk, we would respond. This went on for well over 10 minutes. It was absolutely adorable and it made us all grin from ear to ear. TJ is strong, healthy, and showing us his progress each and every day. We like this upgrade. We are blessed.

Birthdays and Milestones

Today, TJ is two months old. But bigger news yet, his sister, Samantha turned 10 today. Yep, double digits. What a contrast in age. Rich and I were talking last night about how much happens between 2 months and 120 months of life. So much to be proud of with Samantha and so much to look forward to with TJ. Life and growing up is truly an amazing process.

I can say that because in the past two months TJ continues to amaze me with his growth and development. Just the other day Rich and I realized just how long he has gotten in the past few days. By long we mean thin and tall, I guess. His legs stretched overnight. He is going to be one tall dude. Maybe even a basketball player!? His face is filling out, his smiles are getting better and more consistent and he even uttered his first "oooooh" on Sunday.

I am enjoying this time with my son. I am enjoying getting to know him and watching him change and grow right under my eyes. Yes, he has got months and months to go to reach the 120 month milestone. So instead we will just marvel and Samantha's growth and development as a 10 year old and make sure to celebrate her accomplishments too. Right now she is at summer camp learning how to sail, kayak and even water ski. We have loved getting her letters home that tell of her progress and all the fun that she is having at camp. In her letters we see that her spelling and penmanship is getting better. We will see Samantha in a few days when we pick her up from camp. I do not think we will notice that her legs have stretched like TJ's but I do know that we will discover some amazing changes in Samantha as well.

I guess it never stops. Happy Birthday, Sam!

Bait

TJ is eight weeks old today.

He is smiling more, although still more for daddy than for mommy. We are working on nap patterns to get him down for longer than 30 minutes during the day. As Lisa said, we are still learning about one another. I must say this - he is one handsome baby! I think he could be a baby model. When he smiles or frowns each is worthy of some kind of diaper ad.

Last weekend the three of us went to Syracuse just to get out, stay cool, and look for a baby jogger. We wound up at the mall where I discovered an amazing thing. My little boy made women stop what they are doing and run over to see him. For example, Lisa went into Macy's for makeup and I had TJ. Suddenly I am surrounded by all of the "modelesque" women from the perfume/makeup department. The women are cooing and squeezing his little toes. They absolutely melted. I've never been surrounded by this many women in my life - and since TJ can't talk they are all talking to me. "Why of course he's cute - look at his dad." Giggles and smiles. All this to the bemusement of Lisa who is no more than 15 feet away.

I have heard of this working working with taking puppies to the park. No one told me about womens' responses to babies. Cool!

Next stop - Victoria Secret.

Coming to Know Each Other

One of my favorite things to say at this stage of my maternity leave is: "I am learning how to be a mom and TJ is learning how to be a son." You see, it is a relationship. We are learning from each other. I am better coming to know my son and at the same time he is better coming to know me.

At seven weeks, I am starting to see some patterns in TJ's behavior emerge. For instance, I have found that after TJ feeds he enters into a phase of activity. He is alert, he is ready to take in the world, and interact with things around him. This lasts between 30-40 minutes. Anything after that and he becomes cranky. It's almost as he gets over stimulated and he is ready to shut the world out by taking a nap.

Trouble is, I have also learned that TJ does not like the thought of going to sleep during the day. He puts up a fight and lets me know that although he is tired, he is not too keen on closing his eyes. But eventually, he succumbs to the land of nod and sleeps for a good 45-90 minutes.

The nap period is where TJ is learning the most on how to best read his mom and dad. He has learned-- to some extent-- to soothe himself in the crib at nap time. We swaddle him, rock him for a little bit, place him in his crib, and turn on some sort of white noise (the fan, a CD of white noise music). And much to my surprise, he calms down and eventually nods off to sleep. I would not have predicted this behavior a couple of weeks ago, but at seven weeks, he is getting a hang of it. He is becoming a son.

After his nap, TJ is also in a good mood. This is the period of time that I have discovered he gives his best smiles. I love watching him and his dad interact after a good sleep. They play off each other really well. Just this morning, TJ and Dad were having quite a bonding experience. It was amazing to watch. TJ was fixated on Dad's face. Dad would say "hello" or sing a song, and TJ's face would light up. And this went on repeatedly for 5-6 minutes. Being witness to this morning's interaction, I would not be surprised if TJ learned to giggle in the next week. So here too, TJ is learning to be a son to his father. I love watching the relationship those two are developing.

We are all learning in relation to the other in these past seven weeks. It is through more time together and creating that sense of trust that we are really starting to understand how we operate, what works and what doesn't work. Simply put, we are learning to love each other and it is wonderful.

Another Milestone

The balance of sleep distribution in the house may have changed because TJ took his first bottle last night. Without getting into the details - why should I have to get up with Lisa if she's the only one who can feed TJ at night. Right?

Well, that all changed yesterday. Yesterday was the day we decided to try bottle feeding our son. Lisa had been pumping and saving milk so that I could take over at least one feeding a day as well as prepare for her return to work.

We had a plan.

We brought the milk to room temp and put it one of the several types of bottles Lisa bought. "This one simulates the actual breast!" We grabbed the bottles, the baby, and a blanket and headed upstairs where TJ and I were to be closed off from Lisa (Keep in mind that an infant can smell mom from 20 feet away). Lisa wished me luck and closed the door.

In my arms TJ was wailing away as I brought the bottle to his lips. Then he stopped crying, took a tiny taste, and then bore down on the "simulated breast". His eyes were wide open and that was the best part. There was a look of utter surprise and confusion as if to say, "hey, what the - you aren't supposed to be able to do this." He never broke eye contact with me the entire time.

Twenty minute later he was done with the milk but not the suckling, which usually puts him off to sleep. Thinking quickly I introduced a pacifier which did the trick. With a full tummy I wrapped him, burped him, and laid him in his crib.

Perhaps double feeding him (which we eventually wound up doing last night) is the key to a longer nights sleep for everyone. Of course it also means that I am now eligible to take care of that 3:30 am feeding.

Hmph...

Back At Home

I am home from two weeks away from the house, Lisa, and TJ.

For some reason the house always seems bigger than it really is when I return from a trip.

Lisa did an amazing job getting/keeping the house in order. She hung pictures, worked on the baby's room, and cleaned the fridge! Not bad when you are carrying an eight and a half pound wiggle worm all day. Samantha is off to camp in North Carolina.

However, Lisa did leave me some work; the lawn, which went for two whole weeks unmowed. That was a treat! (Then there is the whole issue of the garage door, but Lisa can explain that.)

TJ got bigger. Most noticeably around his head. Don't get the impression that he is a bobble head doll. It's just that his head got larger. He is longer too. He used to fit in the front carrier so that you only saw the top of his head. Now he is able to see out better.

He is still fussy at mid day, but a good walk last night kept him content.

The biggest change is in his new ability to smile! Two weeks ago I was working hard for an up turned cheek. Now he is able to smile a big, ear to ear, happy face grin! Getting him to smile like this is still w-o-r-k.

Last night TJ was up twice. Lisa woke me to swaddle him after he eat. For two weeks I slept uninterrupted - like a rock. Ahh, it's good to be home!

TJs First Road Trip

This past weekend, TJ and I took our first road trip together to see Daddy at Fort Dix, New Jersey. And if this weekend is any indication of our future together as road trippers, I say LETS GO CROSS COUNTRY. TJ was a world class traveller and really made the weekend with Dad fun.

The ride down, TJ did a fabulous job sleeping. I kept the radio on low and the speed above 60. There was something about that combination that just seemed to work and I was not about ready to jinx his sleeping pattern. He was so peaceful. I was amazed with how well this little boy travelled. I was prepared for a six hour drive. It only took four.

As a part of the weekend we went to visit our friends, Pat and Amy. They had yet to meet TJ, so we were more than excited to do the introductions. We also took a ride to the Jersey Shore. TJ had his first beach experience and I rather think he enjoyed it. Dad and son donned their Hawaiian Shirts for the occasion and TJ was able to dip his feet in the Atlantic Ocean. It was a great first milestone for a boy whose mother hopes will fall in love with the water like she has.

It was wonderful to see Rich again and share in the wonder of TJ as husband and wife. I think that over the past few days I have really seen TJ "grow up" a bit. He seems to be getting bigger and is developing some new sleeping and waking behavior habits. I am reminded that this baby is a dynamic, changing, little person who will experience phases and learn and grow over time. As much of a no-brainer as it sounds: TJ is not going to stay an infant forever. But it is a fascinating experience to watch.

We even can report that over this weekend, TJ gave an award winning smile to his dad. Up turned lips and everything. It was a much bolder smile than the others we had seen. I think he was expressing his joy over seeing his dad, meeting new people, and his trip to the ocean. How could you not help but smile. This is summer vacation at its best.

Going Solo

We are going on 48 hours of being "solo" with TJ and by in large it is going well. See, I am embarking on a test of "mommyhood" for the next two weeks while Rich is away participating in an officer training course for the Army Reserves.

Last week I did not want to have much to do with being alone with TJ for such an extended period of time. The thought of it would bring me to tears. Part post-partum depression, and part fear and anxiety that I was not going to be able to handle things alone. Rich had become such the master swaddler-- one of our secrets to getting TJ to sleep for long periods at night. Every swaddle I would put together would fall apart within the first 5 minutes of TJs active pouting. TJ also has developed a pattern of being Mr. Cranky Pants in the late afternoon to early evenings. You know, one of those "I am going to cry real loud and there is nothing you can do to console me" type of attitudes for which young babies are famous.

During these periods of time I can't help but feel helpless, yet in an odd sense it is comforting to feel helpless with another person there share in it. Rich had become my partner in all of this and to loose him now put all of these questions and fears in my head: was I going to measure up? Can I do this "mom" thing for real? Was I going to loose it and break down? Was I going to be able to sleep at all? How am I going to manage without a "fallback guy" and my partner who has a way with TJ that I can not seem to replicate? How was this going to be possible?

So we are two days down and many of my fears have subsided. Sunday night was very restful and Monday morning was a piece of cake. TJ was being the "model" baby for me, and for this I was so thankful. The afternoon proved to be a bit more challenging, but with the fact that I had slept well the night before and that I had lined up a series of friends to visit and check up on me, things were okay. A small win for Mommy Brown.

I know these two weeks are going to have their share of ups and downs, but with each of these passing hours, I am realizing that I am learning to be a mom in my own way. I am getting amazing time with TJ-- a bond that only two weeks of hanging tough and learning from each other can give you. I look forward to Rich's check in calls and my "sanity breaks" by my friends provide when they stop by to say "hi". I am not really that alone.

Here is to the next 10 days!

Working For Smiles

It's 7:17am and TJ was a little more fussy than usual last night so he and I are downstairs listening to the coffee brew. Mommy is getting some more sleep.

At one month old he is ever more aware of his surroundings. He is learning that he can interact with his world. He is learning that the two faces he sees everyday are worth looking at. So, he tries to mimic them.

And so we try to coax that first smile out of him. We smile so much it makes our faces hurt. However, when that little cheek twists and turns upwards just a little its worth it.

In his little bouncy seat he stares at the toys hanging from the bar. His eyes are wide open. He waits as if they are going to do something. Or, he is just absorbing everything he comes into contact with and little hanging toys that move with his bouncing are the coolest thing ever. Sometimes I think that makes him smile too.

Life is good.

Coffee is ready.

Sometimes A Thousand Words Are Better

Poop.

You do it. I do it. The birds, bees, and whales do it. "It" happens.

Let's talk about baby poop. Baby poop is a completely different kind of substance than yours and mine. Neither solid or liquid, it somewhere in between. Kind of like quicksand. It can move at incredible speeds when under high pressure. And it always seems to be under high pressure. It can leave indelible stains on clothing, furniture, animals.

For all of the negatives there is a positive - well, at least for right now. Baby poop does not smell. Does not smell BAD.

Since poop is the only thing TJ is actually doing now, it becomes a valid topic of conversation. There are no report cards, recitals, artwork to brag about. Just poop.

I love my little boy. TJ is a pooping machine. You can see it coming. A look of, dare I say, concentration; then his face turns bright red, and then an audible sound that is similar to ketchup being squirted out of bottle. The sound can and will wake you out of a dead slumber. You would almost expect to see the diaper billow just a little. And then, I swear I saw this the other day, a smile. You are amazed and awed, and when in public, a little embarrassed (hmm, must take after the other parent).

For the first two and a half weeks TJ's poop looked like mustard. Golden brown mustard. You think, jeez, what does Lisa eat? How does breast milk turn into, into - this? Then earlier this week something happened. Instead of mustard we got relish. Relish; again what is Lisa eating? Green, speckled relish like material. What is this kid, a condiment dispenser? When he makes salsa, I'm outta here.

You almost want to take a picture and post it.

I can't imagine what cloth diaper families go through, and land fills be damned on this one, I don't mind disposable diapers. Lisa, has purchased a wide array of liquid cleaners, bleaches, and soaps to get clothes, furniture, and animals clean again. It's a full time job.

Have a great weekend! Hope you laughed. (Your baby poop stories are welcome comments...)

Your Weekly Dose Of Awww....

Here are some pictures!

Lisa is reading a book (about dogs) to TJ and Poly.







Aunt Linda comes to town!







Thoughtful sleeper?







Early attempts at humor.

Go, Dad!

Last night was a big night out for us. Last night we all went down to Stewart Park, in Ithaca for the Twilight 5k Road Race. The race began at 7:00 and took a loop through the park, next to Cayuga Lake, and back to the Ithaca High School where the race began.

I convinced my office buddy to join me in this competition with a, "come on, it will be fun." I enlisted two of our brand new officers to come with us with the promise of beers at the finish line. I then turned to Lisa - the last to know - to come out.

This turned out to be no small task. In order to race at 7:00, we needed to be at the track by 6:30. In order to be at the track we needed to be in the park by 6:00. Of course we needed to get Sam, bring Linda (Lisa's sister visiting from Missouri), and run to the car dealership. In other words, our little trip to the park has us leaving the house at 4:00.

Lisa, ever the perfectionist, was just not ready to make such a long, public appearance. And it showed. The baby was hungry, we didn't bring enough food, TJ was fussy. Too much, too soon. Yet, Lisa put on a good face to everyone but me, and went along.

The race began and I got the bug. I have been running in 5k, 10k, and even 15k races for almost 13 years. Nothing exceptional, just fun to challenge myself. In my "prime" I finished in the top 10% of my age group and even place third in my age group - once. Each time I get on the start line I get that same adrenaline rush to want to go. I mean GO! I apologized to my friend and the LTs that I wasn't going to run with them as a group. The gun sounded and I tore off.

In the middle of the race I came through the park and their was my very own cheering section; Lisa, Samantha, Linda, and the Miller family all yelling for me to run. Since I had just been passed by a woman with a few years on me, I felt compelled to move faster. I looped through the park and they were still there waving and taking the above picture.

As I left them for the last mile and a half, Samantha's voice was loud and clear, "Go, Dad!". My family was there for me. It lifted my spirits and my pace for the rest of the race.

I finished a not-too-shabby 21:19 for 3.1 miles - just a smidge under seven minutes per mile (and 7th for my age group). The others finished in their own times and we went back to the park for food, beers, stories, and sweaty hugs.

Go, Dad!

Happy Fathers Day!

Dear Daddy,

I know I can't type just yet. I know that I can't even speak just yet either. But take a moment and imagine if I could, this is what I would say to you on your first fathers day with me in the world.

I am the luckiest boy in the world to be born and have a father like you. In just my ten days in this world I have heard you make funny rhymes, sing me songs, and make changing my diaper as easy as can be. You are a master swaddler. You make me feel safe, loved, and secure.

I have also had the opportunity in the past 10 days to experience the love that you give to my sister, Samantha and my mom, Lisa. Wow! You are an amazing dad and husband to them as well. You have devoted this past week to cooking and cleaning and entertaining Grandma. You have made time for Samantha to make sure that she feels that she is an important part of this family too. You have done so much to make my entry into this world as effortless for my mom and fun for me! Your character and love for your family is truly shining through.

Growing up with you as my dad is going to be an adventure. I can tell. I look forward to the years to come, Dad. I am one lucky guy.

Love,
TJ

Mom Upside Down Is Wow

I know that I have often said that I am a lucky man to have married Lisa, but will you just look at this picture of her? Nine days after TJ was born Lisa is looking amazing getting ready to take the little guy for a walk.

Betty flew home this morning. It was great to have her with us to provide extra support to our ranks. Now it is just "us". By "us" I mean Lisa and I - against the little one. I'm not being mean, but trying to take on all this work alone is tough. Raising children is (and should be) mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing. The news is full of stories where parents cannot provide the basics of love and support for their children. You need to be a team, like wrestling, you need to tag out from time to time...and win. I joke with Lisa that it's us against "him" and that keep our sanity and sense of humor requires us to be successful more often than not in the responsibility of raising our son. That goes for our daughter, too. The fights with Sam are much more sophisticated since she is 9 1/2 years old. Some she wins - like her choice of music. Some we win - like chores and shower time.

Lisa has been amazing with Sam as another parent. Not merely a step parent, but a role model and influence for Samantha. Now she is showing that same grace, love, and patience with TJ.

Wow indeed.

Baby's First Outing

Tuesday marked TJ's first check-in with the doctor and a visit with a lactation consultant. Rich and I had also thought that since we were going to go all the way into Ithaca for this appointment, we could also stop off at Best Buy and Target to get a few "wouldn't it be nice" items.

It was a big day for us all. For the doctor's visit, I had a list of questions I had been keeping in an ever adorable journal that I have decided to keep for notes such as these. I had packed my new diaper bag with all of the things I thought I could ever need to go to the doctor. I had filled out all of the "new patient" forms ahead of time so we would not waste precious time doing that once at the doctors.

That morning, I was determined to do things "right". Rich and I tagged teamed with the showers and I was excited to put on clothes that made me feel "normal" again. I even put on a bit of make up and mascara. I got TJ dressed in his "first outing outfit"-- ok there was never a special outfit designated for this day, but I did take the extra effort to get him into a cute onesie with matching booties and a little cap. And yes, the blanket we used coordinated too.

Needless to say, I felt pretty prepared for this big day. And to top it all off, we left the house on time and got to the doctor's office with time to spare. I was impressing myself with all of this motherhood stuff. I can do this with style, I thought.

Now mind you, I think that my control freak side has manifested in this way because I have experienced a bit of helplessness with TJ. The day before was a very long day in which TJ had some major gas issues and was rather cranky. I was not so confident with how I was breast feeding, if my milk had come in, and if I was doing things right. I was nervous that TJ was not getting enough to eat. He had not not pooped in a day and from what I could tell he did not urinate either. This concerned me greatly and I had no idea what to do about it. All I knew to do was get everything else ready for baby's first outing.

Upon arrival at the doctor's office Rich and I went to check in. Rich was holding the car seat with TJ inside snug as a bug and looking so cute. As he was swinging our child back and forth, TJ let out a large-- well, how does one describe it? Let's just say it was a loud "ppfthhhhhhhhhh" that clearly indicated he finally made his poop we had all been looking for. Rich and I looked at each other and giggled. I remarked, "guess we do not need to ask that question of the doctor today."

We checked in without a fuss and we were waiting for our appointment. We decided it would be best for me to quickly take TJ into the bathroom to do a diaper change and get him ready to meet the doctor. Upon getting him out of the car seat, I quickly learned that the deafening sound we heard moments before was in direct proportion to the quantity of thick substance that was oozing out of his diaper and making a puddle on his lap. Talk about the irony of my next statement, "oh crap!"

I whisked TJ to the bathroom with Rich quickly behind me. It was EVERYWHERE! His cute blue booties, his puppy blanket, his onesie, his car seat, and all over him. Imagine the chaos: parents frantically trying to clean up the mess, baby wailing at the top of his lungs, poop now all over the changing table. Yet through it all Rich and I were laughing up a storm. How could we not? This was downright comical.

We quickly exhausted the handful of wipes I packed in the bag. Rich went out to get more from the nurses. Upon return to the bathroom he asked where the change of clothes was. "Change of what?" I remarked. Was I supposed to bring a change of clothes too? Oops! Lost mom style points on that one. Poor kid had nothing to wear and no extra blanket. Ahhh, experiential learning at its finest. THIS is why you always bring an extra change of clothes. I get it now!

Thankfully, I remembered that I had a pack of onesies out in the car that I was planning on returning. I had thought prior to this day that we just had too many for his first three months of life. Why would we need more? Ha! I laugh at my naivety now. How wrong I was. So Rich ran out to the car, got the new onesies. TJ Brown was not going to be a naked baby after all.

So the moral of this story for me is threefold 1) Things will happen in their own due time and when they do, expect the unexpected. 2) It is so important to find the humor in every parenting situation-- having a good partner makes it so much easier to laugh things off and 3) Shit happens. . . pack a onesie!

Let's Face It - You Just Want Pictures

Sam holds her baby brother.








A proud dad.











Grandma gets a turn.

Classic

TJ: WHAHHHHH!!!!!!

Mommy: Shhh, sweet little baby.

Sam: Make it stop!

The Colors of Pregnancy

(There are many way I could use to describe the wonder of the birth of our son. This is one I hope makes sense)

Tan. The color of hot, fresh, coffee with 2% milk. When Lisa made my coffee the way I like it and brought it up to me I knew that at moment, in the early morning hours of Thursday, that it was time to get up and get going.

Blue. The color of a crystal clear sky looking down upon the waters of Cayuga Lake. From our room we were able to watch the sky turn from its early morning hue of light blue to a rich, full blue of a hot, late spring day.

White. The color of Lisa's knuckles as a contraction came. Lisa, standing and hunched over the bed, grabbed the sheets and breathed through the pain. Its also the color of the crisp, bleached sheets that she was holding on to. As the color returned to her hands I knew that the peak had passed and it was time for her to rest up for the next one.

Gold. The color of Lisa's hair, down and in her face, lost in a contraction. Hair stuck to her forehead that I would wipe away from her ears for her and gently spoke into to give her words of encouragement throughout the day.

Crimson. The color of Lisa's face during the deep breaths and hard pushes as she struggled to get TJ out. Not one contraction was easier than the other and each one brought this deep color of pain, effort, and concentration.

Red. The color of blood that always is associated with childbirth. It is the blood that connected Lisa and TJ for her pregnancy and gave him life while safely in her womb. It is the color that shot from the umbilical cord when the midwife gave me the scissors to cut it.

Light Olive. The color of TJ, who entered the world mercurial and was slightly green from floating in his first baby poop. Or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't breathing right away - for the first 45 seconds at least.

Pink. The color of TJ, about one minute after he took his first breath. The color of health and life, and cute little babies. A color that had it's own glow to it. A color that rose with each breath and cry.

A picture of labor in full, living color.

The First Good Story

There are a lot of great stories when children are born. Here is the first good story of TJ's life.

(This is recounted with thanks to Samantha's mother)

Sam was really excited after she left the hospital last night. She talked about the baby and asked questions until bed time.

This morning her mother unexpectedly overslept. She woke with a start, imagining having to wake Samantha and get her off to school late.

Sam's mom checked the room to find Sam wasn't in it. She proceeded to go down stairs where Sam was in the kitchen. The cat had been fed. Sam had finished her homework. She had made herself breakfast. She was dressed and ready for school.

When questioned about this (wonderful) behavior she replied that now that she was a big sister she had to be more responsible.

I hold Sam in high regard as a daughter and a young adult. Now - as a big sister - she continues to amaze me.

Sweet Sweet TJ Brown and Beautiful Mommy

Here are the first pictures of TJ, just moments after being born.

Welcome to the World Thomas Jacob (TJ) Brown

My son, welcome to the world.

You were born on June 7th, 2007 at 6:50 pm. You weighed 7 lbs 10 onces and was 21 inches long.

Your mom labored for many hours to bring you into this world. We made a great team during your delivery and will continue to be a team for your entire life.

You are handsome. It's fair to say you are a little eggheaded and you one ear is a little, um, squiggly. However, your nose is cute, your eyes are blue(ish), and your face is full and round.

It was a great day to enter the world!

Today was a beautiful day. The room where you were delivered overlooked Cayuga Lake in Ithaca, New York. There were sailboats out on the water as the sun glistened high above. It was warm and the heat of the mid morning sun burned off the cold, cold temperatures from the morning.

You met your sister within the first hour of your life. She was awestruck and a little speechless when she first saw you. Sure, she turned into a typical nine year old within a minute, but you could see that the title of "big sister" became a reality - a reality she seemed to embrace.

You were born 365 days since the passing of your name sake, my father and your grandfather, Thomas Brown. If your mother and I can raise you to be as good of a man as he was, and as good of men as he raised your Uncle Andy and I - then we will truly be blessed. Son, I miss my dad very much and look forward to carrying on both is name and his memory with you.

Today was a great day.

I love you, my Son, TJ.

Off We Go

At 3:30 am Lisa woke me. "How much do you want to be part of this process?" she asked? Without committing to a response I asked why. The contractions were now here - every six minutes or so.

Maybe I can get some more sleep. After all the team is no good if the coach is cranky.

At 3:35 am Lisa woke me. Swear words were uttered. Uh-oh, this is going to be a long day.

I need coffee. Lisa was up and was not going to rest again. She volunteered to make the coffee while I rousted from bed.

At 4:15 am Lisa woke me. "Here's your coffee. Nice job, way to be a coach," her voice laced with bemusement and sarcasm. "I made it extra strong for you. I'm taking a shower."

I need sleep. And if Lisa is off to the shower...

At 5:10 am Lisa woke me. "How was that coffee?" The coffee was now room temperature.

Lisa described her contractions to me. Wow, this is it. It wasn't time to run to the hospital just yet. We were able to get up, shower, eat something, make more coffee, and get ready. There is a calm between us - panic has not set in - although the nerves are tingly.

It's 6:20 am. The mid wives have been called.

Stay tuned.

June Bug

Maybe baby we're having a May baby...

Or not.

May 31st slid by on the calendar with little fanfare but lots of anticipation - but I don't want to belabor the subject of w-a-i-t-i-n-g (alright - that was a bad pun). June 1st came and went. We really hadn't given thought to the baby being born in June. Nope, not at all.

Lisa's mom arrived from Florida thinking that there would already be grandmotherly things to do but alas, she is waiting along with us. The weekend came and went too. I had Reserves and drove an hour and a half in the opposite direction of the hospital. I had a feeling that everything would be okay if I went and sure enough it was.

June bug baby.

June brings up two dates this week that would be interesting days to have TJ. The first is June 5th, Lisa's birthday. Initially she was not too happy to "share" her special day with someone else. Now, Lisa is pretty sure that it would be a great birthday present for her for our son to come into the world. That and the "free birthday dessert" night would be fun down the road a few years from now!

The other date is June 8th, the year anniversary of the death of my dad. Lisa and I went round and round over the baby's name before deciding (begrudgingly on her part) for Thomas Jacob. Thomas is dad's first name. How wonderful in an eerie way would it be for my father's namesake to be born a year after he died? I miss that old man and think of him all of the time.

If I had to place a bet I'd go for June 8th - dad is behind this.

Whatever the day - we are still ready, already!

Unfamiliar Territory

I share in Lisa's anxiety in this waiting game.

Samantha was born six weeks pre-mature. Her mother was very ill with a pregnancy related disease called toxemia. Her kidneys shut down and she had to be induced. It was an ordeal that took all of the control away from us as parents. A high speed trip to the neonatal unit in Albany, NY. Half a dozen doctors. Half a dozen nurses. An incubator with bells and alarms. In retrospect it was overwhelming to absorb at the time.

The end of that pregnancy came sooner than most. There was no waiting to the due date. There was no anticipation of waking in the middle of the night. There were no bags packed and loaded in the car. It was immediate with little time to react.

A lot of the emotions of "getting closer" never emerged. The only contractions were those that were drug induced in the hospital.

In many ways I am experiencing fatherhood/delivery for the first time. I might now how to change diapers but I am poorly prepared for the fact that Lisa will start contracting at home/work/dinner and expect me to get her to the hospital on time.

So, it's official - I am freaking out a little.

How to Pass the Time

So. . . we wait. Nursery is ready. Bags packed. Grandma Betty arrives tomorrow. We are all anxiously awaiting Baby Brown's arrival. I am feeling well physically. Sure, I am big, my feet are swollen, but by in large all is looking good. It is just the mind games and the mental aspects of waiting which seem so hard right now. We really thought Baby Brown would be in our arms by this time.

We did have an appointment with the midwife yesterday. She eased my mental anguish and assured me that going past a due date is quite common. In her opinion I was going to deliver by week's end. My blood pressure was good and the baby's positioning was right on. Now we just needed to wait for my uterus to "ripen". Great. . . my uterus is a fruit and I am a darn fruit tree. Hearing the baby's heartbeat was comforting as well.

This waiting is an awkward balance of making plans and keeping myself focused on the here and now. People are surprised to see me still at work, but truthfully it makes sense to pass the time at work rather than claim vacation days that I will not be able to cash in on the other side during matermity leave. So I take care of little things that I know can be complete at the end of each work day. But this has me feeling a bit unfulfilled. My motivation at work has slowed.

Rich, Samantha and I are also trying to enjoy our last moments together "pre baby". Memorial Day Weekend was wonderful-- very low key. But even during these times our thoughts are filled with the baby's arrival and when it might be. My "got to get done before baby arrives" project list is all but complete. I've got to come up with some other projects to keep me busy. But I am also afraid to start something I can not complete. Do I run out and buy a whole bunch of flowers to plant in our front garden? That will pass the time. Do I go through all of my Camp Seafarer British Virgin Island trip records and build a manual for the new trip leaders? Again, though how much of this will I be able to complete?

So for now, Rich and I have found several other ways to pass the time. One of which is to watch every single episode of Heros on NBC. Thank goodness for Tivo. We have the whole season that we are now watching marathon style. A good show. Keeps us entertained.

Come on baby. We want to see you.

The Weekend, The Weather, The Waiting

What a long and wonderful weekend!

My weekend began on Friday morning with an unofficial day off. It was the day before the Cornell Army ROTC commissioning and the staff needed sometime to relax before the last big event of the school year. Since April we all have been moving at full speed as the semester ends with finals, grades, and end of year reports. The previous weekend both Saturday and Sunday were occupied with commissioning of Lieutenants at Binghamton and Ithaca, so adding an extra day to the three day weekend was well earned.

Seven of us went to the local course. As the sun crept higher and hotter the first group teed off into the road, the woods, the picnic area and I knew we were in for a long day - I immediately thanked myself for only paying for 9 holes. We had a great time, even without the beer.

We re-grouped, had lunch, and headed off to Professor John's house for the annual ROTC party. This party is always a little surreal as you arrive and are offered beer and a shotgun for skeet shooting. A passing torrential downpour allowed me an early exit to get home to Sam and Lisa.


Saturday was another crystal clear day. The day required me to get dressed once again in full medals and uniform to attend the Cornell Army ROTC commissioning. The event is both a solemn and celebratory; the pay off of four years of physical, mental, and emotional challenges as well as the realization that the profession upon which the new officers are entering has far greater challenges than anything face in school. I sat in the back, wondering if I would be here one day pinning the bars of a brand new officer on Samantha or TJ or both. I can only begin to fathom the pride and anxiety those parents must have felt and wondering what my emotions will be like.


The latter half of Saturday was spent with my brother, his wife, and my niece and nephew. Of course they made their visit expecting to see the baby. It was a great afternoon spent on hitting a bucket of golf balls and visiting the Lime Hollow Nature Center's grand opening. Watching Andy run, and run again from a 12 year old holding a two foot corn snake was entertainment for the day. Still packing more into the day we went to see Shrek 3 with too many children and not enough parents willing to keep them quiet.


On Sunday we went to church where the veterans were asked to stand and be recognized for Memorial Day. I don't mind being recognized but I wish people would remember the Veteran's Day is for "survivors" and that Memorial Day is for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice. The rest of Sunday was spent trying to do as little as possible. Another passing drencher caught Poly outside and soaked her through.

On Monday we kept things slow just in case we needed to make the trip to the hospital. Samantha is getting into riding her new bike and begged us to take her to the park - twice. Laying there on a blanket spread out on the grass, sitting under the cloudless sky, I realized that the weekend had been a perfect mix of fast and slow, excitement and boredom, sunshine and rain.

No, no baby yet. Too bad. It would have been a great weekend to be born.

The Waiting Game

Okay, believe it or not, I am now at the point in my pregnancy where I am ready to deliver. Yes, the procrastinator in me is done. Its time to go into labor and get this whole thing over with. . . . but I wait. Funny thing is though, I have no control over when this whole delivery thing happens. This of course drives me CRAZY!

For the past week now, I have experienced mild contractions and leg spasms in the evening. It has gotten to the point where I can predict that at 8:00 PM I will experience a shooting pain in my upper inner thigh followed by cramping and contractions of my abdomen. And every night that this has happened I have thought sometimes to myself and sometimes out loud: "is this it? Am I going into labor? Will tonight be the night?" And every night at 10:00 PM or so I go to bed a bit anxious only to awake at my usual 5:00 AM time to release my full bladder. Sigh. Its just my body warming up for its grand performance.

I am now fearful of being the "girl who cried labor pains". You know, similar to the boy who cried wolf? Tonight, its past eight, I am experiencing the same symptoms as every night before, but I am a bit more jaded in my believing that tonight will end up like every other night.

But one of these days I know it is going to be different. I do not know how, I do not know when. But at some point baby Brown will be born and these labor pains I am feeling will evolve into more. My hope is that I will recognize it for what it is worth-- time to go to the hospital-- rather than just brushing it off as the usual. Of course, this is most every pregnant woman's fear.

And so we wait.

Ready, Set...

So much activity in the last few weeks!

First, the baby's room is offically ready. Paint - done. Chair rail - done. Curtains - up. Rug - laid. Furniture - assembled. Choo-choo train mobile - hanging. The room looks great in a train theme that Lisa spent numerous hours researching and putting together.

We have the car seat ready to go. I have read the chapters from Lisa's child birthing book that now "qualify" me to go to the labor room with her.

We spent what is most likely our last weekend without having children around by going to the movies, going out to dinner, taking in a ball game, and starting to watch episodes of Heroes. These are all things that we take for granted and will miss for the next few years. Throughout the weekend was the calm-before-the-storm feeling hanging over us.

Last night we thought that "this might be it". We spent the evening giggling and being restless. After a while it seemed more likely that it was jitters, cramps, something other than labor. Still, to be on the safe side I loaded the car, put the keys in easy reach, and charged the cell phone.

Ok, TJ - we are as ready as we can possibly be (with a collective nod to all of the unknowns we will face and laugh/lament about later). Whenever you are ready!

How Precious

My oldest friend in the world called me today to tell me his wife was going to have a miscarriage. This isn't the first. After several attempts, numerous doctors visits, and years of frustration they decided to adopt a beautiful and wonderful daughter. This pregnancy was unexpected but nonetheless a chance of excitement for them both.

They knew when we were visiting with them last month but chose not to say anything because the early signs were there that my friend's wife would not be able to complete the pregnancy. Four ultrasounds in four weeks indicated a decreasing heart rhythm, and further complications. Horrible waiting from week to week. This morning they found out the heart beat had stopped altogether.

My heart aches for them. For her.

I think about my wife and how remarkably blessed we have been these eight plus months. I think how precious life - growing life - is. Then I think about those women and couples who try and try in vain. Lisa and I have taken this pregnancy for granted because it has been so easy. In a moment like this I cannot help to stop and thank God, thank Lisa, thank fortune for allowing us to be so blessed.

A Month of Activity

We are down to the final stretch. Wow. Baby Brown should be here within the month. Are we ready? HA! Not quite. But we are getting there. As I share this with others, many say, "that's funny, most pregnant women by the ninth month are tired, cranky, and ready to get the whole pregnancy thing over with. But not you, huh?" I reply with a simple, "not yet."

You see, being the procrastinator that I am, I have just now accepted that I am pregnant and starting to have fun with it. Baby Brown has been SUPER active in the past few weeks and it is fun-- and a bit eerie having him move all around. My belly is also pretty ripe and round-- much more so than two months ago-- so I am enjoying walking around with everybody KNOWING that I am pregnant rather than being that woman that others wonder about (did she gain that much weight over the winter months? I guess married life is tough on her).

I am also getting a huge chuckle over how my body has changed and evolved and how pregnancy has changed me physically. Yes, it is harder going up the stairs at Willard Straight Hall every morning. Getting dressed poses its own challenges-- especially putting on socks and shoes. Bending over is next to impossible. And then there is the realization that I have lost control over a few things in my lower region. I have become a farting machine.

Perhaps the funniest instance of this realization was one morning as I was struggling to put on my pantyhose (yes, I am still wearing those things), I laid out across the bed on my back, feet up in the air, one leg of the hose on, the other partly on. That alone was a pretty sight. But what made it so much more comical was that as I was attempting to get dressed, all of a sudden a loud and high pitched toot came out of me. "What was that?" I said to myself. "Did I just fart? Great, thats a pretty sight!" Rich was in the other room and just started to laugh. Yep. That's my husband. We tend to bond over this kind of silly potty humor.

I also had a mildly scary incident at Target just the other day. And here again I realized that I am losing control. As I was entering the shopping area, I let out a sneeze. Typically a sneeze just involves my nose. This time however, I discovered that my pants were feeling a little wet. "Oh no. . . . did my water just break?" My mind raced. "Or. . . oh no, how embarrassing, I think I lost control of my bladder with that sneeze. Shit! Where is the restroom?" Thank goodness I was five paces away from the ladies room and could exit from what could have been a very awkward stroll around Target.

So besides body changes, Rich, Samantha and I have also been very busy preparing for baby Brown's arrival. We are working hard on the nursery, we are acquiring more stuff to assist us when baby brown is born, and we even went on a test run to the hospital so we could see the lay out of the labor and delivery area so that there are less surprises when the day actually comes.

So, am I ready? Not yet. There still is much to do and much fun to be had with my pregnancy. I want to enjoy these last few weeks and make the funny, and sometimes uncomfortable moments last. But, I do know as May 29th gets closer, we will be ready to give birth and actually greet this active soccer player that has been feeling quite at home in my belly. I'll be ready then. But for now, there is still so much to experience during this last month.

Working Both Ends

Yet once again it turns out Lisa and I complement each other.

Lisa is great at cleaning up barf; dog barf, cat hairballs, Sam puke. It doesn't bother her while it grosses me out to the point where, well, I want to throw up.

I can clean poop; from dog doo to the litter box (what a treat that is) it doesn't really affect me. Lisa isn't that into cleaning the back yard of Poly bombs.

Looking ahead to an infant who will have the ability to spew from both ends, sometimes at the same time, it is nice to know Lisa and I are prepared to start at both ends and meet in the middle.

Just wanted you all to know.

Life In The Middle

I helped lay my mom to rest on Monday.

I turned 40 today.

I will be a dad (again) in a month.

I don't doubt my strength to confront all of these challenges. The tragic and the milestone and the wondrous. Having Lisa by my side helps. Yet, there it is, all of it. I am numb as I try to "process" and yet I am fully aware that my son is due within weeks.

I am trapped between two sets of emotions - one of complete grief and loss. The other is of joy and life-to-be. Being trapped I am standing on the line, unwilling, unable to move too far in either direction in fear of betraying the other. Standing on this line I am aware of my own mortality now that I am 25 years from the age when mom died and 33 years from the age when dad died. Between the loss of my mother and the birth of my son.

Horrible Juxtaposition

This is hard to write and I don't know where to begin.

On Friday my mom had a routine surgery to repair a hernia. For the next two and a half days she recovered slowly. She got out of bed, walked around, ate solid food. On Monday her blood pressure dropped to the point where she needed to go to ICU. Thirty-six hours later she needed to be intubated to help her breathe. By 3am we were notified that mom was "in grave condition" and we should come to the hospital. By 11:25 Wednesday morning mom died with her sons and their wives by her side.

Shock. Anguish. Absolute bewilderment.

Ten months ago I sat by my dad's side and stayed with him until the end. I was ready for dad to go after three years of cancer and six weeks of watching him waste away. It was a blessing.

This was so much different. Tubes, wires, monitors, sounds of respirators and alarms. There in the center of the bed was my mom. Sedated, unconscious, and gasping against the air being forced into her lungs. Andy and Mare were there, and had been for hours. They left us alone and the enormity of the event crushed me. I fell apart. I had been holding on to a misplaced hope that something in Andy's messages were poorly translated from the doctor to him to me. What was in front of me was undeniable.

Doctors. Choices. Inevitable decisions.

Somehow, in a way that has yet to be adequately explained by her doctors, mom lost the blood supply to her small intestine. Her intestine died. With 90% of the vital organ gone there was nothing anyone could do. Together we made the decision to let her go. We know that this is something that she would have wanted versus an agonizing and slow death.

My mom was a nurse and for many years she taught a class in death and dying. We knew from listening to her that she could "hear" us even in her sedated state. We spoke in her ear and let her know what she was up against. We let her know that we were by her side and would stay there until the end. We told her not to fight.

In one hand I held hers. In the other I held Lisa's close to her stomach. And then it happened. The baby kicked. Two hands at the opposite ends of life. In the distance of my arms was entire lifetime. Lisa, who doesn't let too many people touch her, stood with mom and held mom's hand to her belly for a long time.

Death. Life. That brief space in between.

She was removed from life support. We spoke to her and kissed her. With the four of there mom slipped away peacefully. She was gone.

In my anger and bewilderment I think of our unborn son who will never be held by his grandmother, a grandma who spoiled and dotted on her three other grandchildren. My hope is there is a place that the two of them are sharing right now and the love that mom has shown her grandchildren is being poured out to this one, soon-to-be. I hurt for my son who will only know this woman through the stories of his dad, mom, and sister. I hurt for my mom, gone too soon who was looking forward to this child. I hurt for me and Lisa and Sam who are left still questioning why she was taken from us.

I miss you mom. Peace. We love you.

The Alien Inside Her

Lying in bed the other evening, Lisa was playing music for the baby via an iPod and headphones when it happened; the baby moved. The baby moved so that we could see it. Like that scene in Alien where John Hurt's stomach expands, something moved inside of Lisa.

I tried something my mom tried when she was carrying me - I put a cold drink on Lisa's belly. Aside from Lisa yelping, her entire stomach changed shape as the baby moved to a warmer climate.

It's really amazing that there is a thing living inside of another human being. When you stop and think about the nine month gestation period and how a life grows in there it is truly amazing.

I wonder what it must be like for him in there; the sounds of our voices, the pitter-patter of water during a shower, moving during yoga, the dark, the sensation of floating.

It's no longer a matter of months - it's down to weeks before the alien emerges.

Making Room For Baby

The big decision is what room will the baby live in.

We have a nice little home. Emphasis on little. Little enough for three to four people. We have a nice "new" kitchen, living room, dining room, basement, garage. There are three bedrooms; one for Lisa and I with an entire wall of closet space, Sam's room that is painted bright yellow with a mural on one wall, and the guest/office/other/my closest room.

Moving Samantha is not an option, she likes her room and has staked her territory, and giving her a larger room isn't really necessary. That leaves the guest room or our room.

Our room is smaller than the guest room becasue of the aforementioned added closet. However, it catches the morning light just right and has a nice ceiling fan for the summer. Did I mention that Lisa's clothes are in the closet? One row of slacks, a row of tops, a top shelf of shoes, sweaters, and other dresses, etc - and still there is still a chest of seasonsal clothing for each time of the year. Putting the baby in this room means that the room will be shared by mommy and baby. Plus the thought of exchanging furniture between rooms is unpleasant to say the least.

The guest room is larger than the other two rooms giving the baby lots and lots of space that he won't be using for at least a year when he is more mobile. We can put a day bed into the room to make it more usable for grown ups. A fresh coat of paint and some curtains can "babify" the room.

Right now - as you read this - you are saying the same thing Lisa is saying; time to move. Certainly necessary but not on the agenda for right now. Cozy is nice for now. When we get to the point of "living on top of one another" then it will be a problem.

Birthing Class: He Said

Go to your cupboard. Right now. Go get a cup saucer and bring it back to the computer. It's okay, I'll wait.



Back? Good. Take a good look at the saucer. Does it look like it could pass through any orifice on your body? Guys - be imaginative. No, of course not. It turns out that a saucer is almost the same size and diameter as the baby's head - almost 10 cm! I don't think I learned anything else that was as useful as that tidbit of information last Saturday.

Birthing classes were fun as something to do with Lisa - but other than that were silly and not very helpful. Watching Lisa cry at every videotape birth was humorous, and I was glad that we were in the back of the room so no one could see us. Lisa can cry at anything. No kidding, Lisa cried at the end of the movie, Faceoff. Wait, you say to yourself, wasn't that the John Woo over-the-top action movie starring John Travolta and Nicolas Cage where there faces were surgically removed and placed on the other persons body? And the answer would be, yes - that movie.

Of course the other thing that was funny was that I passed gas when I was walking out of the room to get coffee in the middle of the videos. Whatever I ate the night before could have used some BEAN-O before I left the house. I had rumbling, explosive gas and I farted right next to a guys head as I walked by him. I got my coffee and nonchalantly entered as if noting had happened. Lisa didn't make eye contact with me, so at least it wasn't that loud. I told her about it an hour later and she laughed and said she thought it was my sneaker squeaking. So, she did hear it. Damn.

The instructor was a hoot. As soon as she got the videotape in and pressed play she was gone out of the room. And there were a lot of videos. Videos - not DVD's - 1980s v-i-d-e-o-t-a-p-e. Nothing has changed in childbirth since - oh, since Eve, but isn't the medicine and medical support around childbirth updated since The Go-Go's first sang "Our Lips Are Sealed"? If the class is going to be mostly videos then couldn't I save $75.00 and buy a DVD for $16.00? At least she didn't resort to film strips and cassette tapes.

I suppose I should be grateful. The instructor did teach us how to breath. After 39 years I had been doing it wrong. The funny part was that she got winded doing the breathing exercises herself and had to sit down. He - he - he - he -Who. He - he - he- he - Who. I made a game of it. I started to snicker. I was afraid to laugh (why didn't the other guys find this hysterical?) because I was the only one in the room who found it funny and because I was afraid I would lose control of pocket upon pocket of flatulence - which of course made it even funnier as I pictured myself exploding from both ends.


I know in my heart of hearts that Lisa and I are ready for child birth because we are a good team and know when to focus on the important things. I know that labor will be wonderful and hard and scary and painful and beautiful. I have no doubt of our ability to get through it - with or without the class.