A horse, of course

We got an email yesterday telling my wife that the stable her horse is at is shutting down soon.

Real soon.

Real soon like January 1st if we can't pay extra. The extra would allow the caretaker, Melodye, to stay afloat long enough to close the barn in February.

Carrie took it pretty hard, but I think things may turn out for the best. I try to look at turmoil as a catalyst for change. That change can be for the better or the worse depending on how you look at it, what you do about it, and what God plans to happen in the end. Chilly may end up at a stable right down the road for less money than where he is now just west of Richmond. Wouldn't that be swell?  Hopefully, it'll put an end to some of the horse drama. Woe be to anyone who gets involved with owning a horse who doesn't realize what sort of commitment it is. The horse is my wife's, but I get pulled into the drama all the same.

When you buy a horse, you're buying a large, expensive responsibility that isn't easily managed. They're not like dogs or cats where you can pack them in a carrier for a vet trip, or throw them in the backyard to run off some of their energy. Hell, you can throw a cat outside and it's anyone's guess if the cat decides to come home or not. A horse? You have to have a large truck. Then you have to have a large trailer. Then you have to have a stall, a field, and then you have to trust that an animal that large isn't going to flatten you. And then you have to take care of the horse with training, cleaning and feeding. This takes time, time, and more time. Unless you are blessed with land, all of this has to happen on someone else's land. That means more travel time for you and you have to get along with whoever takes care of things when you're not around. If you know all of that and you're still up to the task, the more power to ya, but it's not something I would've chosen if my wife wasn't in love with her horse. The poor guy has been starved, ridden ragged, afflicted with Lyme disease, and generally booted around from place to place. I think things will be much better when Carrie has recovered enough to ride again and Shane is older and not so demanding. At this time, I don't think selling Chilly is a good idea, because he's such a large part of my wife's identity. Instead, I'm praying this recent drama will herald a time of horsey happiness.

 Also, I'm praying for the lady who was running the barn, Melodye. She was a Godsend to us for a long while, and I hope things turn around for her. The barn shutting down is hard on us and everyone who stabled there, but it's much harder on her. She's losing her chosen livelihood. It sounds like one of the reasons we got such short notice, was because Melodye didn't want to ruin anyone's Christmas by announcing doom and gloom beforehand.

I took the time to write this between breaks of running up and down the stairs to make sure Shane is sleeping well and breathing steadily (new father syndrome). It took me over an hour to get the little stink to fall asleep and I'm going to be mad if he doesn't allow for me to have at least a half an hour break. I don't want him waking up Mom either. She worries too much and doesn't take good enough care of herself unless I force her. I wrote about the horse stuff for a change of pace, but Shane is really the little tyrant who's running my life ragged right now. He's healthy, pooping, and driving Mom to the brink by sucking her dry and then demanding more. Also, the little man is getting really good about holding his head up during tummy time. I'm looking forward to when he does more than eat, sleep, poop, and stay awake when he's supposed to be asleep. In the meantime, he's damned cute when he doesn't cry.

New dad out.

Wind, wind, wind....

It was colder than a well-digger's butt when I went to get the mail today. The wind cut right through the pajama bottoms. I probably should've gotten fully dressed. I shut the door and shuffled upstairs to read the mail where Carrie was nursing Shane.

A few minutes later, Carrie looked out the window and said, "Hey! Cliff is walking up to our door." I started down the stairs to greet him, and to my surprise, I was looking right at him through the open door. Wide open (and cold). I'd forgotten to deadbolt it when I'd come inside! Cliff smiled, waved, and then asked for me to help him with his Harley which had also blown over in the wind!  It's no hurricane, but the wind is brutal for an average day. I shut the door to get my coat on, and when I opened it I was in for another surprise: my cat Max came streaking in!  The little runt ran home free out the wide open door, only she must've decided it was too cold!  Talk about good fortune. I remember the one time she got out of my apartment and I had to chase her around the building. She normally likes to hide and sleep at this time of day, so I may not have even noticed she was missing for hours.

Then, on a final note, I was helping right Cliff's motorcycle when a magazine blew up in the wind by my foot. The pages were flapping open and lo and behold, a centerfold. A naked, Playboy one. It wasn't Cliff's so I took it inside to throw away rather than let it float around for some kids to find.

Talk about an odd start to the day!

A Belated Merry Christmas!

Merry belated Christmas!

Christmas started awesome. My wife and I were able to actually get a few spurts of sleep in between feedings. We didn't rise until after noon. Shane, the little bugger, started cluster feeding like crazy the day before. Carrie was worried that she wasn't producing enough milk, because the little stink was insatiable. He drained all the milk from mom and all of the energy from mom and dad combined. Dr. Google said that he's probably having his first growth spurt. Sleeping in Christmas morning was exactly what Carrie and I needed.

Around 3:30, my family dropped by to visit. It was great! I haven't seen them nearly enough lately. The truth is, I've been feeling somewhat isolated. My wife has been feeling uncomfortable and very anxious since the pregnancy, so we haven't had many visitors for her health and sanity. Stress caused her to go into an early labor at around 26 weeks, so I didn't really push for many visitors. We just focused on trying to keep her relaxed and as comfortable as possible. Carrie's parents came up to visit multiple times and Carrie's mom came up  for almost a week to help with the new baby (a huge thank you), but aside from them, next to no one was able to visit.

Anyway, the family + Billy came up and that was awesome. Christmas is supposed to be spent with your loved ones. It was great to hear everyone laughing and talking. My family is extremely full of life (aka: not quiet). Also, I was extremely excited to show everyone my son for the first time. Aside from Mom and Dad, the rest of my friends and siblings haven't met Shane. Carrie didn't want any visitors at the hospital, and because I wasn't the one in pain from surgery I didn't press for it (I would've loved to have had a revolving door of friends and family, but needs come before wants.) My mom got to hold Shane for the very first time, and I had a great time catching up with everyone and opening presents. We'd bought some Chocorooms from Costco as a gag gift (if you see the box, you'll know what I'm talking about) to go along with all of our gifts. My family was extremely generous as well. Patrick in particular. With no job, and no income, he brought a box of books, a DVD, and some Amazon gift cards. Christmas Eve, his "finger slipped" and he "accidentally" bought me a game on Steam as well. Where'd he get the money? Drugs? Nay. It was his inheritance from when Grandpa passed away. Thanks Pat. Billy was there too, because "Mom had called in the muscle" to help Matt drag in a mini-fridge that we'd gotten off Walmart.com. Once again, thank you to everyone for coming to visit!

This journal got interrupted just like all of my last attempts. Shane finished eating at 10:20 with Carrie and I sent her to bed. In the past 3 hours, Shane has been wide awake for all but 30 minutes, drank 2 similac bottles, had four dirty diapers, and had me play pacifier patrol. I eventually had to wake up Carrie because he's still hungry. Last night, he'd driven her to the brink. She was in tears and stressed and at the end of of her rope. I sent her to bed and I ended up sleeping on the floor in Shane's room and feeding him formula to get Carrie a long rest. It did the trick, and she was ready for action the next morning and made me feel like a million dollars with her thanks. 

Carrie's still feeding so I should go back upstairs. Hopefully I wasn't gone too long to finish this. 

Shane's first bath

Well, we found something that Shane REALLY doesn't like: bathing. He got his first bath today, and he pooped on me and the baby bather. I ended up switching shirts too, because Shane figured that if he was getting a bath, I should have a golden shower. He hollered almost the whole time, so Carrie and I made it the quickest sponge bath we could. We'll try again later in the hopes that he'll be less surprised about the feel of water on his skin!

Today was the first day we left the house for errands as a family. Milk was in short supply, so we drove a mile to the neighborhood Giant. I stayed with Shane in the car, while Carrie went inside. Shane isn't old enough yet that the doctors would recommend he be around a large group of people/germs. I made a bunch of phone calls while I was in the car to try and catch up with family. Overall, that seems to have been my job so far as a dad: to fill in the gaps.

Whenever Carrie handles the feedings, I try to hang around the room. I can't help with the actual feed (obviously), but I play errand monkey. If she wants ice water, needs Shane to be held/burped/changed, or needs her meds then I "fill in the gap." At night, I'll read out selections from Baby 411 while Carrie nurses to answer questions and generally just be morale support. When the feeding is done, I swaddle Shane and stay with him to make sure he's goes to sleep. I send Carrie to bed, because she has a harder time resting than I do. Lately, the little stinker has had a tendency to pop his eyes open the moment I lay him down. Then, he wriggles like a worm until he starts to break free from the swaddle. I end up playing servant and constantly replacing his pacifier to keep him placated. My goal is for him to go to sleep, so I try to keep the lights low, avoid making too much noise, and do the minimum intervention for him to go to sleep. It doesn't always work. I was up for an hour and a half with Shane last night and ended up changing him, feeding him formula, and then changing him again amongst other antics. My son, the little pig, had just fed off of mom until he was on the verge of sleep, and then drained 45 ml of formula 45 minutes later. I suspect he's starting his growth spurt.

Speaking of growing, the kid is strong! He's holding his head up and pushing off my chest for tummy time, and he can arch his back and bridge with his legs when flat on his back. I've heard a couple of noises from him lately that weren't wails either. I think Shane is developing to the point where he's going to be more social. Carrie swears she's been seeing him smile some lately, and I've caught the tail end of some suspected smirks as well. It'll be neat to see what kind of person Shane is as he grows up! I know he's here right now, but it feels like I've still yet to really meet him. At the moment, he's a cute, poop machine that makes mom and dad run around at his beck and call.

I'm almost done reading Messy Spirituality by Michael Yaconelli. It's a funny story how I found the book. I was helping with a feeding one evening and I prayed a quick prayer I pray from time to time: to be drawn closer to God. Later on that night, Carrie asked me if we had any 9v batteries. I knew the answer was probably "no," but I went around the house looking anyway (it never hurts to look and you can always be proven wrong). I checked all of the obvious places, and then checked a few places I was pretty sure weren't going to pan out as well. One of those places turned out to hold a book I didn't realize I had.

Will finish post tomorrow. Sleep beckons.

Life in the time warp

Life with Shane is measured by feedings. There's a feeding before I go to sleep, and a feeding when I rise each day. They are my alpha and omega. Each feeding includes diaper changing, burping, feeding, and takes anywhere from 45 minutes to a over an hour. Shane eats around 8 times a day, so it's a full time job.

Every other segment of the day falls into the "between feedings" category. These can be characterized by sleeping, trying to accomplish laundry or some other chores, playing with Shane, or sitting in a vegetative state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The amount of time between feedings is variable, so it's impossible to really plan on anything. Any activity I do needs to be something that I can start and stop if Shane needs me. You'd be surprised how long it takes me to write some of these journals! TV, the internet, and a little reading are now my activities of choice.

Shane is worth it, though. He's already impressed me with how strong he is. He's not even two weeks old, and when I laid down with him on my stomach for some tummy time, he could already pick up and hold his head up for a few seconds. He kicks like a mule, and can swing his arms around like a windmill. He's starting to resemble me a little more, too. Every time he cuts loose a big fart, Carrie looks at me and says, "Your son."

Yesterday was scary for Carrie. We have a cat with an infected eye, and lo and behold Shane had some yellow gunk forming in his eye. She started to panic, and I had to force her to calm down. We called the doctor, and the doctor confirmed Dr. Google's prognosis: a blocked tear duct. It's common, and if it doesn't work itself out by Monday, the doctor will look at it during Shane's two-week check in. We're trying home remedies such as cleaning out the eye and gently massaging the area between Shane's nose and the corner of his eye. Carrie is very worried for Shane's health and safety, and she nixed a visit by Matt today, because someone at my parent's house has a cold.

Today, we're going to give Shane his first bath. His umbilical cord stump fell off yesterday afternoon, so we're in the clear. For now, it's time for some football. It's the fantasy football playoffs! I gambled and put Vincent Jackson in Thursday. It was only his third game, but it paid off big. Hopefully, big enough to win.

Later!

What will the world be like...

My mother and father were born in the mid 1950s. America had been victorious in WW2, my grandfather was back from a tour of duty as a cook in Japan, and my great-uncle long returned from fighting with the infantry in Europe. The Great Depression was over, Eisenhower was a good president, and the baby boom was booming. It wasn't all pretty, though. Communist Russia weighed high on many American minds, but at least the Soviets were a visible enemy rather than the terrorist boogeymen of today's world. Vietnam hadn't started yet, and I think overall it must have been an optimistic time to have children.

I was born in the early 80's. At the time of my birth, America was just ending a severe recession. Giant mainframes were becoming personal computers (there was a famous 1984 commercial with Apple), Reagan was in charge and over 50% of the country was thrilled about it. While I was still young, the Berlin wall fell, and the US kicked some butt in Desert Storm. Interest rates were through the roof, but overall I think it was also an optimistic time to have children.

What about today? My child is born into a time period when there's a recession, foreclosures left and right as a result of a real estate fallout, the federal deficit is looking to go into orbit, and the military is chasing terrorists. I can't help but think that Shane isn't being born into the most optimistic of times. Technology can do amazing things, but at the moment, I think that it's at the stage where people still need to find a healthy balance to some of the advancements. A simple Google search can bring up hardcore pornography for a young kid browsing the internet, video games consume the lives of adults and children, and any time you buy something it becomes obsolete by the next Christmas.  It doesn't seem like the most optimistic of times to me.

But I have hope. By the time Shane is older, I believe the recession will be over and things will be looking up. Technology will be being used in more classrooms making for better instruction, medical science is advancing at a quick rate, and the world is becoming more and more connected through the global economy. I'm thinking that the little bugger will be lucky enough to see a base establish on the moon! (I've got my fingers crossed that I'll be old enough to see that one, as well.)

That's all in the future, though. We've got to survive the present first. Shane had a nice upchuck earlier that had Carrie in tears. If you're reading this Shane, let me tell you: your mom loves ya like crazy. Whenever you hiccup, she hangs at your bedside and hopes that they aren't paining you. Min has an eye infection, and Carrie makes her mom and I wash our hands with soap AND with instant hand sanitizer after we handle her. She's taking no chances that you could catch whatever Min has. If you're in the room, the volume on the TV switches back and forth as I raise it to hear, and she lowers it so you won't. Sometimes after you're done feeding, she'll hold you sleeping in her lap for hours. She's told me straight up that she wasn't a baby person at all, until she met you. You're different and she's crazy about ya.

You're a lucky kid. My concern is that she'll stop worrying about you and start worrying more about her own health. She needs to get more sleep if you'll let her. My fingers are cross that after I'm done writing this, and your mom's done feeding you, you'll let us get in a three hour nap before we give it another go.

Officially a father

I've officially been initiated as a father...and more than once too. It's harder to be initiated if you have a daughter, but a son? It's going to happen whether you want it to or not.

We took Shane in for his first check-up Monday. I filled out a wad of forms, many which were asking questions about things that could not have possibly happened yet. You know, typical doctor questions. Has the patient been out of the country in the past five years? No. He hasn't been out of his mom for much more than five days, do I really have to fill this out?  Isn't it obvious he doesn't smoke or drink alcoholic beverages more than three times a day?  I like to think I'm at least a decent father!  I limit him to one beer bottle before bedtime, and not an ounce more!

Anyway, we were at the doctor's office. Carrie and I cart Shane into one of the examination rooms where you sit on that bench/table thing with wax paper running down the middle of it. The nurse comes in and asks us to unclothe or son. This we weren't expecting. The nurse assures us it's alright and lays a liner down that we're supposed to place our bare baby upon. I remember taking a deep breath and mentally crossing my fingers that Shane doesn't start pooping all over the office or spraying pee. He may be small, but he packs a surprising amount of pressure.  Thankfully, Shane had already peed and pooped up his diaper, so we had a window of opportunity.

7 lbs 12 ounces. Go Shane!

We trotted victoriously back to the examination room and before we could get Shane dressed we started to hear ominous noises.

Poop-sign.

First, there's a little poot. Then, things got a little wetter. Within a few seconds, Shane is dropping his load (a very healthy grey poupon) on the exam table. Rats! At least we saved a diaper. I picked him up and held him while Carrie and the nurse started damage control. It's when I'm cooing and bouncing him, my stomach starts to feel warm.

Warm....and wet.

I held my son against my chest for maybe another second or two as the gears started turning in my head. I looked down and confirmed my suspicions. Yep. The kid was peeing all over my chest. If we were at home, I'd have just held him close to save the floors and carpets, but we're at a doctor's office. I turned him slightly to the side and let the rest of his load arc out and hit the wall. If there was a baby merit badge involving distance, he'd have earned it. Doctors have to clean those rooms after patients and it was the nurses idea to strip Shane in the first place, so I wasn't feeling to guilty.

I was feeling proud.  My boy's got a healthy wee-wee. He saved me a diaper too. Heck, this may mean he's going to grow up to be an environmentalist.

I have officially survived my initiation as a father: my son has peed on me.

Ready for the night shift

Went upstairs at 4 and slept from 5-8ish. The shift started off pretty slow. It's like little Shane is trying to recover from being so hyper last night. Well, we also made some strategic changes during the day. Grandma Nancy picked up a different kind of pacifier when I noticed he didn't like his current ones as much as he'd liked the ones at the hospital. We've also stopped using all the 'swaddle mes' and 'sleepsacks.' Shane does much better in a simple swaddle. It's too bad all of the receiving blankets we received are too small for him. I could do a baby burrito wrap in the blankets we had, but he's too strong. He powers right out of it. Thankfully, we had a couple from the hospital that are just the right size (for now).

All of the literature I've read talks about how parents have to be careful nothing covers a baby's face because they aren't strong enough to clear their airways. Shane can buck like a bronco. I tried putting him in the bouncer yesterday in a 'swaddle-me' (which leaves his legs semi free) and he was flipping on his left and right and trying to bridge right out of the sucker. If we don't swaddle him before trying to feed, he can use his arms to push himself off Carrie's chest before he latches. Let me tell you, we may have a future sports star in the making here. With as much as he's eating, I wonder if he'll grow into some of the height on Carrie's side of the family.

So far, things have been more intense than I had expected. I'd imagined watching SG-1 with Carrie whenever the baby was on sleep breaks, but it doesn't work like that. I imagined that I'd work on some writing too. What I'm really doing is checking every five minutes or so to make sure nothing is blocking Shane's nose. He flinches and I'm grabbing a pacifier, just in case. I could have accomplished quite a few things when I started my shift if I'd realized he was going to sleep like a rock the first two and a half hours. What I did was sit on the couch watching the Santa Clause 3 and keep a constant vigil so that I could guarantee Carrie some sleep time.

I'm  looking forward to tomorrow. I think we're getting better and better and the whole parenting thing and every day is one more day towards walking, talking, and playing catch. My parents are supposed to visit, and Carrie's dad is coming up for the day as well. Scheduling all of that may be a pain, but I want to show my boy off. On top of all that, it's football day. That seems like good baby programming. I don't have to watch every play and even the commercials tend to be funny. If I miss something, they'll show a replay if it was something worth watching. If it was really worth watching, they'll show it in an endless loop to make sure that I see it, remember it, and talk about it with all of my friends. Football's like that.

Well, blog for the night is done. I planned ahead of time, and dropped my bible off in the room. I plan on doing some of my Sunday worship in the quiet with my son.

Stay classy.

Goodbye Hospital, Hello Home

Shane has arrived and sleep has left the building. I pulled an all-nighter last night. I would've typed in my blog, but it was an active all-nighter. Did I get to sit around and watch my boy sleep? No, sir! He had me walking, talking, dancing, singing, and cleaning poop under threat of crying and waking Carrie. At one point, he dozed off in my lap in a chair for close to two hours. The chair didn't recline, and the room temperature dropped to the point my shivering forced me to get up, waking him. He was such a good sleeper at the hospital, that I can't help but think it was some sort of ploy to make sure we didn't leave him there. Anyway, I stayed up until 7:30ish when I woke my mother in law to take over so I could sleep until 10.

Poor Carrie has it rough. I was able to give her some windows to sleep, but anxiety and pain kept her from being able to do so. With the tears and obvious pain, I don't know how much longer we'll keep up the breastfeeding. Shane did a number on Carrie's boobs leaving nasty looking welts and breaking the skin before we discovered the joys that are a nipple shield. He's got a great grip and she pays the price. There's also the back pain from the epidurals, the blister the size of a 5 inch caterpillar on her thigh, the incision from the surgery... First thing I did this morning, was fill all of her pain med prescriptions and pick up a heating pad to hopefully sooth some of the muscle ache.

Shane is sleeping soundly at the moment (unlike last night). I could have killed our motion-detecting monitoring system when it blurted out a false alarm and almost woke the boy up. Thankfully, I'm in the room typing so I was able to blast off from the glider and turn it off in a hurry. Unlike Carrie, I'm not chained to feeding time so I can take a nap if I need to later. Lack of sleep won't kill me though (mind over matter), so I'm going to try and use my waking hours as best I can to take care of things or sit in the baby's room to lower her anxiety or whatever it is I can do to make things easier on her.

On a plus note, the pharmacist at Wahlgreen's told me she had a four-month year old and that things would get better! I didn't get a receipt for that advice, but I'll let it slide this time. Keep praying for us!

Shanetown

Everyone who told me "everything's going to change" was right. I can now talk about lactation, birthing methods, breastfeeding, discharges, and the pros and cons of circumcision without discomfort. The past several days, my entire world has been narrowed down to "baby, baby, baby." I'm glad that babies aren't rocket science. There's been a lot to learn, but I feel we've made a lot of improvement towards being competent baby owners (also known as 'parents'). Life would've been hell if baby formula involved a series of a hundred steps or intense mathematics ("Did you use the derivative or the reciprocal as your variable in figuring out the amount?" "What do you mean!? I was just going to use a number!") There is a lot to know, but babies are good about forcing you to immerse yourself in baby bootcamp. I can't imagine how taxing all of this would be on someone who wasn't planning on having a child. They're like a

Sleep deprivation has set in as well. Shane feeds about every three hours, which means we're up to feed him three hours. Actually, we're up every two on average. It takes half an hour to feed him, and then more time to clean him, and put him back to sleep, but the three hour-clock has already begun. Supposedly, he's allowed to go for one four-hour spurt without feeding at night, but that's still not a lot of sleep. I'm good about waking up in the morning, but when roused from a deep slumber I don't know my name or up from down. Carrie's a lot better about waking up and figuring out what's going on. Her maternal instincts have kicked in full force. At first, she was scared that she was going to hurt the baby or do something wrong. Now, she's fiercely protective and enjoys holding him for long periods of time. She doesn't let anyone save the nurses and I touch the baby. Carrie is totally caught up in how awesome our son is (that's a 100% awesome for those who were wondering).

Tonight is our last night at the hospital. I'm finally starting to catch up with people I didn't contact my first several days here. There was always a nurse, a nurse tech, a registrar, or someone else coming in to the room to dispense advice medicine, or paperwork in addition to having a needy baby and a hurting wife. It'll be nice to be home, but also rough. There won't be a nursery or a lactation consultant on call. We'll be all on our own. It'll be the real deal! I'm excited. It won't be easy but it'll be nice to have our boy in our house. God, watch over us and please don't have let the cats burn the place down.

First feeding!

Shane had his first successful breastfeeding attempt early this morning! 4 AM and all was well. It doesn't seem like such a complicated process, but there's much more of an art about getting those first latches than you would initially think. It was great. He's healthy, mom is getting healthier, I couldn't be happier (unless it all went much faster! That's life, though).  I need to add Kim's name to the list of exceptional nurses we've had. She was a huge help in showing us up from down.

Today is hopefully going to be a day full of learning for us. Shane came back in the room around 9:30 and had another feeding with Carrie. He slept on her chest afterwords for over an hours before we heard a loud PFFTTT! "He pooped!" You know what poop means? Dad gets to go to work! I took him from mom, and she helped me clean his bum. I was quick enough not to let him pee in my face (always a danger with boys). I got to practice my swaddling technique afterwards. I'll need to be a little quicker in the future. Shane's little dagger-like fingernails let him scratch himself a little. Didn't really brake the skin, but it's something I'll need to watch for.

Overall, I'm thrilled to be a dad. I'm not hyper-excited scared like I thought I'd be, but pretty evenly happy and pleased. I think that maybe it's to even out Carrie a little bit. She's very worried and anxious, but she's been doing a great job and I'm sure it'll be less scary with practice. Shane? He's doing great. He's stronger than I expected and can really wriggle around when you don't want him too. It's still too early to see what color eyes he's going to have, but my fingers are crossed that he gets mine. I love Carrie's eyes, but riddle me vain, I want to see something more than a chin that I know he definitely got from me. Well, I guess he got my blood type too, because he's not the same as Carrie. It's been a while since I've donated blood, so I don't remember what my bloodtype actuall is, but I'm still going to claim responsibility for those genes. The cute part can't be from me. I was an ugly baby. Even my mom says so and she's partial to me.

Quick update while Carrie was in the shower and Shane was sleeping. more to follow!

Shane is here!

Our son is born!  He's healthy, and looks great. I was an ugly baby, so he obviously takes after his mother (and he has the dark hair to prove it!). I cannot describe how happy I am to be a father...partly because it still feels surreal to me. I look at Shane and it's hard to believe he's mine. Oh, he's got my chin, but it's still going to take time to sink in. I'm really happy and looking forward to being a father.


If the beginning of the last post didn't make it obvious, it was a rough delivery. Carrie was in labor for 11 hours, but never dilated more than 1 cm. The doctors said that it was a sign the baby was too big and Mother Nature was trying to tell us that the baby was going to need to come out another way: Cesarean style. It wasn't what we'd hoped for, but I have to give the hospital credit for how quickly they acted. Our doctor made the decision, left the room, and within a couple of minutes I was handed a set of scrubs, and a few minutes after that we were out the door and down the hall.

If that was all that we had to deal with, it wouldn't have been such a bad experience. However, Carrie's epidural failed. Hours into the process, Carrie decided to go the epidural route. It didn't work. We found it out the hard way when several procedures that should have been painless made Carrie miserable (and I learned a new vocabulary term: sacral sparing). The second epidural looked like it was doing its job correctly until they put Carrie on the operating table. The needle moved, hit a blood vessel, and the catheter filled with blood. Poor Carrie started to feel a lot of pain. They tried dumping more meds into her system, but she cried out because she could feel what was happening to her. At this point, they told me "you have to go outside" and dumped Carrie under general anesthesia. I like to think I'm a brave man, and I can count the times I've teared up in the past years on one finger (once). It's really scary worrying that you may lose both wife and child. When I heard Shane cry out and they dropped him in my hands I did tear up. It was one of those odd moments where it felt like my mind and body weren't on the same page. I was thinking one thing, and my eyes were thinking something else. When Carrie started to wake up from her drug-induced sleep, she was annoyed because she's never gotten to see me cry before.

Rough story, but it doesn't end there either. When Carrie started to become more lucid, she was in a lot of pain. The narcotics in her IV (the good stuff) weren't cutting it, and the anesthesiologists kept upping the doses. Eventually, they started using a key to unlock the safety procedures on the little toy pumping the medicine into my wife. Shane was born at 8 PM, and we didn't end up getting out of the recovery room and settled in our new room until midnight. Then, the pain meds ran out and the dispenser started beeping incessantly until it got examined and changed out. Sleep for me came around 1 AM. At 5 AM, the nurses came in with Shane for some bonding time with Mommy and I found out Carrie had been unable to sleep for the second night in a row. She was in pain, sleep deprived, and becoming more and more distressed (especially when there was an hour gap in the refilling of her pain meds). The situation didn't get better until Carrie was given a shot of some sort of intramuscular shot of a different pain reliever. Around noon, she was able to sleep for about three hours and things have been much better since then. We've seen Shane, the parents saw Shane, and Carrie is now on Percocet which is proving much more effective.  I've heard my wife crying and sobbing more than I ever wanted to in the past 36 hours. It leaves you feeling helpless, because there's nothing absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.

Even with all of the difficulties, both mother and child are healthy and in no danger. It's amazing, and I can't help but feel so grateful. Carrie was able to get up out of bed when the nurses made her, and she's been acting like she feels much much better. Thank you to everyone who was praying for us. I started making calls to people when I could, and I'll be making more calls tomorrow. Thank you to the nurses who were patient and very helpful. Debbie, Audrey, and Munja all stick out as being exceptional. Thank you God for giving me a happily sleeping son!

All right. Memory preserved and I want to try and get a couple of hours of sleep before they bring in Shane for the next feeding. Good night to all, and to all a good night.

Still waiting on Shane....

It's been a long day and we're not there yet. Carrie and I woke up at 7 AM. I say "woke up," but Carrie apparently never fully fell asleep. I was a lot better off, but the couch "made-of-what-feels-like-wood-boards" wasn't very helpful.

The day started off with an Oxytocin drip for Carrie. She's been hooked up to what I've been calling her "portable Christmas tree" ever since. Our nurse, Debbie, has been excellent. Very friendly, and always positive. The day has been far from easy, though. I think both Carrie and I went into this thinking that an induction would be much quicker than going into labor normally. The average labor time is 12 hours (I think), and somewhere in my brain I was expecting to be holding my son around the time school normally lets out for me. Instead, it's 7PM at night and we're no further along than when we started.

For the first four hours or so,Carrie resisted asking for pain meds. When she gave in to getting an epidural, it was with the thought that she could relax and maybe even sleep. So began the problems. The position of leaning forward to get the epidural was very painful for Carrie. When it went in,


time out for c-section.

Everything is going to change...

I'm not as nervous as I thought I'd be. It's not that I'm not nervous, it's just that I don't feel a crushing weight or anything like that. I suppose that's because largely I'm a spectator here. Carrie's the one feeling the pressure. My job is going to be moral support for Carrie and acting as calm and collected as possible for her sake.

We checked into the hospital just before 8 PM. Carrie dropped herself off at the emergency room (she wanted to drive) and then I drove off to hunt for parking. We signed in, and we've been parked in the room ever since. The hospital has done it's best to make what's clearly a hospital room look homier (if that's a word). There's cabinets, a rocking chair, and even a (fake?) wooden headboard attached to the hospital bed. If it wasn't for all of the high-tech monitoring equipment, baby care station, and hospital bed they may have even pulled it off. We've spent the last three hours talking to the nurse, setting up monitoring, medicine, and drawing blood (Carrie's least favorite part). The Ravens - Steelers game has been going on in the background since 8:45 or so. It's been a great time-killer, and I've been making sure to keep Carrie updated on her fantasy stats. Hopefully the sleeping pill will take effect soon for Carrie. It's after 11 PM now, and I think they said they were going to give us a 6 AM wake-up call.

I've spent a lot of this weekend thinking about how different life is going to become. There will be no more "give me five minutes to see if this game finishes" or "I'll just sleep in/roll over/hit the snooze button and get up later." The world is going to shift from Mike-time to baby-time. I got a sneak peek at what that feels like when I shifted to married-time, but baby-time is going to take things to a whole new level. I don't know what sort of sleep pattern Shane (and therefore Carrie and I) is going to have, so I don't know how many extended activities will be possible. While folding and putting away baby clothes today, I decided that I should try and write a journal of every day. Nothing big, but maybe just something I can show to Shane later or to keep people informed. I don't want anyone to feel left out. There's just so many people to call, and supporting Carrie takes up most of my time. I'm writing this in the dark as she's trying to sleep. It's too dark to read any of the parenting books I brought with me (last minute cramming), so I think I'm going to try and get some sleep for tomorrow. After all, who knows when I'll get another chance for six glorious hours of uninterrupted sleep?

Two days until BBDay

Two days until "Baby Birthday" and counting.

I'm going to be off work for the next 8 weeks or so thanks to FMLA leave. I have the sick leave saved up so that I'll be paid throughout (nice!), but I'm still worried that my classroom is going to explode while I'm gone. Logic tells me that it won't, and maybe it's just pride that makes me think I'm that integral to how things work, but the feeling remains. I stayed late Thursday and Friday trying to make sure everything was ready. I know I forgot things, and I hope Mrs. Mitchell will be able to improvise. One of my students has been DREADING her impending arrival. He even wrote down "Mrs. Mitchell" for the answer to his bonus question on a quiz yesterday. The Question? "When does the nucleus disappear and when does it reappear in mitosis?' Clearly, his mind was on other things!

Last night, I couldn't really focus on much. I watched some TV and played some games (lost), but I kept thinking about BBday. I think a lot of it was also just worrying about my classroom/job. Today, we slept way in (later than I wanted, but Carrie sleeps better if I hang around), and we've done a ton of work since. Hours and hours of laundry, cleaning, cat pots, and trying to make sure that the house will survive on its own for a few days and be ready for us when we return with Shane in tow.

My wife has decided to hover over my shoulder at the moment. She's been trying to entice me to watch SG-1 while I've been writing this. First, she started singing the song, then she prepped the PS3 and has been watching the back of my head, and now she's hovering behind me. Do you think she's looking forward to it?  Thankfully, I happen to love SG-1 as well, so I'm off for now!