All he got for Christmas is his two front teeth...

They're in! Zach's top two teeth have broken through (both at the same time, unfortunately) bringing the total tooth count to four.

We're back East for the holidays and Zach has taken the travel, the icy cold weather, and his new teeth all in stride. He totally charmed our fellow travelers on the plane out here; every time the seat belt bell went "bing-bong" Zach started to giggle and nearly couldn't stop.

Zach was also the first one to adapt to East Coast time (on the very first night) so the rest of us (or at least me) had to fall in line pretty quickly to get used to waking up at 8 am (or 5 am, as I like to call it).

We're looking forward to all of the first-time experiences Zach will have in the next few days; I'll add pictures as I get the computer/camera situation sorted out here. Happy holidays to all. (Updated 12/22: Zach in the stroller and on the floor)

Welcome, Eli

Today we got the amazing news that Joanna, Tony, and Samson welcomed baby Eli into the world. Eli seems to be much like his cousin Zach in that he was very impatient to get started with things. He arrived at 33 weeks and will spend a little time in the NICU before going home.

Funny how everything seems to wrap up so neatly - Cousins Samson and Luke were seven months apart in 2003; now four years later cousins Zach and Eli are seven months apart. Also Eli was born on Dave's beloved grandfather's birthday, so there's a nice symmetry to the whole thing.

I know it is hard for Tony and Joanna; having been there with that struggle I can only imagine the anxiety and uncertainty they must be facing. That's why tonight our thoughts are with our Florida family members. We wish them much strength and patience -- and rest -- over the next few days and weeks while Eli gets stronger; and we look forward to the day when he finally comes home, where he belongs, with his family.

Half A Year

On this warm summer-like October day, I spent the morning snuggling and mugging with my roly-poly cutey pie, who is exactly six months old today. He was up this morning gooing in such a high-pitched voice that it was actually more like singing - I'm thinking I should start an audio blog just to record his little noises. So all morning long it was "AaaahAAAAAAaaaaah AaaaahAAAaaaaaaah" until Dave finally said, "Are you sure there isn't anything we can do to improve his mood?"

Oh, and not that you would know it from all of the singing, but his second tooth broke through today. Now at least we're symmetrical.

Zach and I went out to run an errand today and when I tucked him back in the carseat I saw a bunch of stuff swirling in the air inside my car. It wasn't until some landed on Zach's leg that I realized what it was - a little piece of ash. The air is so thick with smog and soot from all of the fires that are burning around us that it is literally falling on our heads. We are so fortunate not to be near them, but even the little pieces that touch us remind us of the many struggles that people are going through even as I write this. Although we made it through the challenge of bringing baby Zach home safely, we know that there are more struggles yet to come, and we can only hope that what we have been through already has made us stronger to face what's ahead, and more appreciative of what we have here and now.

That's not meant to be a downer, by the way. How can I be down when all I am hearing is "AaaaaAAAAAAaah, aaaaaAAAAAaaaaah"?

Happy half-birthday, my half-year-old boy.

Chew on This

We're nearing Zach's six-month birthday, and in celebration of that landmark we have two developmental milestones: Zach's first solid food and Zach's first tooth.

The food was kind of a mess, and he was probably surprised to have us put something in his mouth after weeks of us trying to get him not to put stuff in his mouth. But after a few tries he seems to appreciate it. We've only tried the mushy oatmeal so far, but we're working up to mushy carrots, mushy peas, mushy pears, etc.

The tooth was more of a surprise to me. I think Luke was right around this age when he got his first tooth, but I somehow expected Zach to be a little slower on this front. Well, OK, maybe I kind of was looking for it because I did a little finger-sweep across his gum just to see what was there and - poke! - there it was, popping right up.

Next blog entry: toilet training, multiplication tables, driver's license...

39

I'm riding a big wave of happiness today; I'm home, I'm mobile, I have two great boys and Dave - what more could I ask?

Exactly six months ago today I was walking around my office like a big buffoon, saying to anyone who would listen: "Today is my half-birthday!" (And indeed, no one could think of any appropriate response beyond, "Okay....") The next day my quiet, uneventful little life as I knew it was completely uprooted, shaken upside down, and pitched out the window. Now I'm not going to drag that whole story out again, but the reason I'm bringing it up is to say that in these past six months I've had one really important lesson ground into my psyche: You absolutely cannot take anything for granted.

Of course we all know that fact in theory, but how much do we really believe it in practice until something completely dramatic and unexpected happens? One minute you're walking around babbling about your half-birthday, and the next thing you know you're flat on your back in the hospital connected to wires and tubes and not even sure if your baby is going to make it through the night. One day you're so proud of yourself for never having spent a night away from your beloved boy, and next thing you know you're spending eight weeks away from him.

And then there's this: One day you're starting to think you've pulled through every imaginable physical challenge, and then you walk into a piece of furniture and can't even walk straight for six more weeks.

So you can maybe start to understand why today, of all days, I am just glowing with happiness from head to toe. I know, everyone wants to blame it on the new age-y chiropractic massage I had this morning, but it's really true. I have this sense that everything is so fragile, and perhaps fleeting. So today, for one day, all I can do is just be happy about walking around in the world - and having amazing people with whom I can share the walk.

Settling in/Signing out

We're back after a busy, thrilling, and genuinely exhausting time in Seattle with everyone. Luke loves Seattle, and it's no wonder: The parks are plentiful, the fresh seafood is abundant, and the entire city is completely kid-friendly. Example: You can actually go to a nice restaurant with six tots in tow (in our case, we had an amazing six-course meal at a Greek restaurant) because someone thought to create a well-equipped kids' play area to keep them occupied.

Turns out Zach is a great traveler, and he calmly endures sloppy affection of all sorts from his young cousins ("If you hear the water running, it means Antonia is washing her hands to hold Zach again.") Zach is also becoming much more entertaining, with his conversational coos and goos, and he and Luke are actually starting to keep each other occupied. (Here they are together in Aunt Julie's fun baby beach tent.)

Things are busy for me this month; I'm actually planning to go back to the office for a day next week (after five months!!!) and Zach and Luke and I have a slew of summer commitments. This blog has been an amazing outlet for me over the last few months as I've dealt with some big challenges, but I think it's run its course and I'm ready to wrap it up. Thanks to everyone for all of the great messages and I will try to be in touch with family updates throughout the year.

Cousin-mania, part II

We're in Seattle now and Luke and Zach are awash in a sea of happy, sticky, noisy cousin love.

Eight years ago, my parents started a tradition of renting a big house and getting the whole family together for a week in the summer. Our group has grown from just three siblings and their spouses to a mob of 14 with (currently) six kids age six and under(in order: Antonia, Sam, Luke, Helena, Lily, Zach). My parents somehow continue to volunteer themselves for this every summer and remain amused and entertained by the crazy chaos that unfolds every year.

This time it's Zach's turn (or as Helena calls him, Zacker) to be welcomed into the fold, and so far he's been remarkably calm about being hugged, grabbed, dripped upon, and generally manhandled by his cousins who are currently arguing about who gets to hold him next. He's adjusted extremely well to his first new sleeping location since leaving the hospital: The first night he struggled a little with a stuffy nose from the cold he caught from Luke, but then last night he surprised us all by sleeping "through the night" - from 11 pm to 5:30 am.

Now that the whole group is here (after a hellish two-day plane delay for our East Coast crew) we have a whole week's worth of adventure planned: a day at the beach looking for starfish, a hike, a harbor cruise, more trips to the fish market, and many, many park dates. "I'm so glad we have lots of friends in Seattle," sighed Luke as Dave tucked him into bed last night. Little does he know, the fun is only just beginning.

Cousin-mania

We're all a little bit sad here because our beloved cousin Samson has left already after such a short visit. "He's my favorite boy," declared Luke the other evening after they had a great time playing together. And then later, perhaps not coincidentally after Luke learned that Uncle Tony had gotten up early and gone out to get him a sprinkle donut, Luke got all sentimental about Uncle Tony and Aunt Joanna too. "They're my favorite guys," he said sadly as we told him they were leaving.

When it was finally time for them to go to the airport, Luke tried one last-ditch effort to get them to stay longer. "Wait, Samson, I have a surprise for you!" he said.
"What is it?" asked Samson.
"It's...um...a big..." (Luke is clearly grasping at straws here) "...box...for your forks and knives."
Samson was justifiably confused.

Of course this was the first time all three boy-cousins were together and Samson was almost as enthusiastic about Zach as Luke is. Samson is a total joy to be with and we are looking forward to many good times together and lots of lovable three-boy-chaos in the future.

Now if Luke and Zach are feeling a lack of cousin companionship, they only have to wait five more days until we have cousin-o-rama in Seattle with Antonia, Helena, Sam, and Lily. Will baby Zach feel left behind once he realizes how much younger he is than all of the other cousins? Maybe he'll rush to catch up with everyone. Or maybe one of my siblings will have baby #3 to keep Zach company.

I kid, people, I kid!

Also worth noting is that today is Zach's three-month birthday. Does this mean the "fourth trimester" is officially over? Hmmm...I don't think so. Not yet. But we're looking forward to head control sometime in the next few weeks, and then rolling over, and then sitting up...and sooner or later, running down the street. Happy 1/4 birthday, my sweet Baby Z.

Together, apart

I seem to have fallen off the blog wagon in the past few days. Could it be the big party we just threw for Luke and Hatcher? The swirl of activities around the cousins being in town? Or me just being too slow on my poor broken toe to travel up and down the stairs to the computer? Let's call it all of the above.

Last time we checked in, Luke was having a complex about being ALONE at night in his room. After a few nights of this battle we finally decided to put Zach in the crib for at least the first shift of sleep at night (Luke didn't sleep in the crib at night until five months; as with Zach it was just easier to have him in the sidecar co-sleeper). We thought putting them to sleep in the same room would work, and it did for a few minutes the first night, but...go figure. It didn't stick. Luke still wanders out of bed until as late as 10 pm with ridiculous excuses: "I need another drink of water" "I have to go to the bathroom again" "I wanted to ask if you could bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow" "I just wanted to say I love you again Mommy" (well, maybe that last one is not so bad). At least we have stopped hearing about being ALONE so much.



Who would have guessed that at this stage the bigger problem would be getting our toddler to go to sleep? (And just for clarification, Luke is just goofing around in this picture and does not actually sleep in the crib. I mean, come on, he barely sleeps in his bed.)

But good old adaptable Zach seems to suffer no ill effects from the shift in sleeping location. He's still just a go-along get-along kind of guy who seems to agree with me and Dave that lights-out means time to go to sleep. Maybe he can teach Luke a thing or two.

Zach also had some of his first social appearances this week...at Luke and Hatcher's half-birthday party, with cousin Samson and Uncle Tony and Aunt Joanna, and in a brief visit to my office for the summer picnic. He's been a real charmer, either sleeping or cooing happily on cue most of the time.

I promised myself early on that I would refrain from comparisons that began with "Luke was x but Zach is y..." and I have to keep stopping myself because it's so tempting to talk about what an easy baby Zach is. Maybe it just seems easier this time around because we're not totally clueless. And who knows what Luke is going through. But I have to add that even if/when Luke is being a pain, either as an infant or as a three-and-a-half-year-old who doesn't want to go to bed, he's still so darned lovably cute that it doesn't matter. "I'm happy at you, Mommy," he told me as I tucked him in the other night. I'll take that.

Big bundles

Sudden realization: I have more than 50 pounds worth of children. Luke is somewhere in the 35-plus range and Zach weighed in today at 15 pounds 4 ounces. Yes, he at the absolute top of the scale for his birth age and off the charts for his gestational age. And it's OK to ask the question that seemed almost ridiculous three months ago: Is he too big? No, says our doc, the Amazing Dr. L., he's just a happy, healthy Goo who'll probably trim down a little bit once he starts moving around. She pronounced him "beautiful" and "quite the talker" as he cooed and gooed throughout most of his checkup.

Here's a question I didn't get to ask: What is he doing with all of that energy that's not being directed toward growing hair? He's the first bald baby we've had on either side of the family. But hey, it sure makes bath time go a lot faster...

I'm just so proud of both of them. Can you tell?

Return of the H-Bear

One thing that's been really fun for me since Zach was born is unpacking all of Luke's old baby clothes and bringing back all sorts of funny little memories. Like the fruit pajamas that Luke wore after his 2-month welcome party, in which he made his biggest smile ever recorded for the camera. But the pajamas that Zach is wearing now (see exhibit A) make me smile for another reason...I bought them for Luke at Costco and didn't notice until I got home that there was some curious wording on the front. There are three bears, each with an arrow pointing to them, and the bottom two say "Fuzzy and Cuddly" and "Fluffy," but the top one, curiously enough, says "H" - and that's it. It wasn't until several weeks after I bought the pajamas that I saw another pair in a regular Carter's store and I learned that the top bear was supposed to say "Huggable" (I imagined Costco stores in another part of the country, say, New Jersey, with a big shipment of the same pajamas with the top bear labeled "uggable." Anyway, whenever Luke would wear them, we would call him the H-Bear - and now the H-Bear has returned.

Strange things happening around the house...Dave and Luke made a project this weekend of putting the crib together for Zach (who is currently sleeping in the sidecar co-sleeper in our room). Apparently Luke was extremely disappointed to learn that Zach wouldn't be sleeping in the crib right away, because Luke suddenly got hung up on the fact that he sleeps in his room ALL ALONE and he doesn't want to be ALONE anymore. (Attachment parenting friends: I'm with you all the way except on this - I cannot have a toddler sleep in my room with me or else I will never get to sleep. It's bad enough with grunty, gassy Zach in the room.) So Luke woke up not once , not twice, but THREE times on Sunday night to declare that he didn't want to be alone (at 10:30, 1:30, and 3:30 - and I didn't even bother going back to sleep after the last one because Zach was about to wake up any minute). We knew we had to nip this one in the bud, and somehow, once we got past a major bedtime battle last night, Luke didn't wake up again. Tonight Luke was safely tucked in and unfortunately, as I write this, he is making another appearance ("I don't want to be alone!"). Ugh. Wish us luck.

Zach has been cooing and gooing for most of the day, and in fact he was cooing right before I took this picture. A funny thing about Zach - he's like a little clock. He'll stay awake with me up until exactly 9:45 on the nose, when he conks out for good. When I took this picture and posted it (time recorded about 9:30) Zach was making happy noises but I could see his eyelids getting lower. So I dashed upstairs and we settled into the rocking chair just in time. At the stroke of 9:45 it was good night baby, or should I say, good night, H-Bear.

Broke-toe Mountain

"I need a break," I said to Dave on Tuesday night, and he shook his head at me. "You really, really need to be more specific when you wish for things like that," he said.

It's true, I broke my toe on Tuesday, due to an unfortunate and extremely embarrassing collision with a piece of furniture. Just as I was getting back on my feet, ready to start running again, really enjoying long summer walks on the beach, I gave myself another huge setback. Ugh. I would kick myself if it weren't already so painful.

Fortunately, both boys have been somewhat easy on me the last two days. Luke and I have been fairly sedentary, watching the "Stomp" video and reading books; and Zach, who is entering a new super-alert super-cute phase, has been content to goo on my lap for long stretches of time.

And despite my red-white-and-blue foot, yesterday turned out to be a banner day. Quick July 4th recap:

8 am to 10:30 am: Dave and Luke run a 5K and go out to breakfast, Zach and I sleep in, then Zach goos contentedly while I catch up on "Flight of the Conchords" with my foot propped up.

11 am: Dave and Luke and I all relax in the pool while Zach snoozes

1 pm: Dave completely crashes, Zach is still asleep, I put Luke down for a nap, and pretty soon we are all far away in a happy little dreamland

4 pm: Luke and I make a special tomato pizza with phyllo dough for Hatcher's party

5:30 to 8:00 pm: Luke and Hatcher have a great time running around at the party; we all eat way too much food

8:30 pm: Luke and Zach get pajamas on, then we pack up in the car to find the highest vantage point in town from which to watch fireworks

9:30 pm: Back home again, Luke is all smiles, a total angel while Dave puts him to bed. Dave says, "What are we going to say thanks for tonight?" and Luke sighs and says, "I just want to say thank you for you and Mommy and Zachy."

I would end on this happy little note, but there is one happier little note to mention too. Today is my ten-year anniversary of moving to California. Ten years ago, I quit my job, said goodbye to a lifetime's worth of friends, tearily left my family behind, and moved in with Dave in a little rent-controlled apartment at the beach. It was a scary leap, but I knew I wanted to be with Dave and I knew I wanted to try a totally new life. Ten years later, I can look back and say it's been thrilling, challenging, amazing, and more than I could have ever asked for. Now I have not only Dave but also two little mini-Daves who are 100 percent Californian.


Tonight I was telling Dave that I had forgotten to buy myself a new Sudoku book while I was at the bookstore. "Hmmm," said Dave. Then he and Luke and Zach disappeared into the bedroom and came out a moment later with a brand-new volume of Sudoku (Brita, are you in on this somehow?)

"Thanks for moving to California, Mommy," said Luke as they all handed me the book.

I can't imagine it any other way.

Snorkel and Tiny Martian

For some reason Luke recently decided that his name is Snorkel and Zach's name is Tiny Martian, so please refer to them appropriately.

Anyway, Luke, a.k.a. Snorkel, and I drew up a list of house rules just before I went to the hospital and many of them are still enforced from time to time. Actually, Snorkel himself insisted on most of them ("No Teasing"? We don't tease each other too much in the house), and the only one we really invoke on a regular basis is the Purple Rule, "No Whining."

But when Tiny Martian was born, we realized we had to establish a whole new set of rules, most of them involving drumming. The new list goes something like this:

Don't wake up the baby
Wash hands before touching the baby
No shouting in the baby's ear
Always touch the baby gently
Don't drum near the baby's head
Don't drum on the baby's head
Just don't drum the baby, OK?

But in every other respect, I'm just so excited about how much Luke (I know, Snorkel, but it gets a little tedious) is absolutely crazy about his baby brother. He can't resist holding him, hugging him, squeezing him, and saying "I love you, my little Goo," as often as possible. The other day I told him I would be picking him up from school and he asked me, "Can you bring the baby with you?" "Sure," I said. "Why?" "Because I want all of the teachers to say 'ooh' and at look at him," he said. So I did, and they did, and Luke stood by the whole time, beaming with pride.

I thought that Zach just basically tolerated all of this sloppy affection, but there are signs that he's in fact interested in this small, loud person who is always in his face. Sometimes when it seems like Luke is being most annoying, Zach will actually hold his gaze and look at him calmly. Maybe he's thinking, "Just wait until I get a pair of those drumsticks in my hands..."

I've had a few days now where it's just been me and the two little boys, and I have to say it has been more fun than I even realized. We haven't been too ambitious, just some trips to the park or playdates with friends, but it's been fun, mellow, reasonably quiet, and .... what's the word I'm looking for? Doable. The fact that Luke loves to have Zach tagging along makes things infinitely easier.

Luke's new favorite job is to climb up on a stool and "help" me change Zach's diaper. We go through the same routine every time: Luke energetically rubs Purell on his hands, and then once we open up the diaper, he turns his head and holds his nose in mock horror. Then he wants me to tell him all about how when he was a baby we did the same thing for him.

I tell Luke, "You have a lot of important jobs around the house. You taught me how to be a mommy. I didn't know how to be a mommy before I had you. Now you can teach Zach how to be a big boy and how to be a brother."

And here I am thinking that I'm being this super-cool child-development confidence-builder and Luke just rolls his eyes at me. "Mom, his name is Tiny Martian."

Hunka hunka burnin' love

Who knew we had 13 pounds of Goo on our hands? That's 12 pounds 15 ounces before eating, 13 pounds 1 ounce after. At nine weeks (or even technically four weeks) Zach is quite the chunkalicious chunkster. I'm so proud...

Burning question of the week: Does Zach have red hair? We asked ourselves the exact same thing when Luke was this age. In the sunlight, up against his head, it looks red. But I think the same thing that happened with Luke will happen with Zach too - the dark baby hair will give way to blond hair. That is, when he gets enough hair for us to worry about. Until then we just have a big hunk of happy baby face to look at.

Fever, and a smile

Zach is looking at me right now with this "Do you really have something better to do than look at me?" look so I won't type too long.

Just a few days ago Dave and I were looking at Zach and Dave pointed out that we went through a lot of hard things over the past year. "But when you look at where we are now, it somehow seems like it was all worth it." So we were all happy and blah blah blah, and it seemed like a nice little finish line of sorts.

Then on Friday we turned another corner. Luke suddenly became floppy. He volunteered to take a nap early. And by the time he woke up, he was burning up with fever. Throughout the afternoon and evening he got more lethargic as his temperature crept closer to 104. (Note to self - isn't this supposed to happen in the winter, not the middle of summer?)

Now I know fever is a sign that your body is doing a good thing for itself, and all that, but when you remember just how badly I don't want to go back to the hospital, you can imagine how hard it is to think in those terms. Plus, do I need to elaborate on all of the dread diseases that start with a fever? Plus, do I need to point out that if Zach comes down with a fever he earns another one-way ticket to the hospital?

It was at this point when my mind was racing that I started feeling less grateful and more annoyed. Haven't we had enough for the time being? Could we get a break of say, at least three months of slightly "normal" life before some other bad thing happens? I know all of the reasons why it's not cool to go down that road (see House Rule #1: We must not feel sorry for ourselves) and I half expected Morgan Freeman to show up and smack some sense into me.

At any rate, last night my regular post-2AM shift was a busy one, involving various wakeups with various small people at 3:30 (Luke, burning with fever), 5:00 (Zach wanting to eat), 7:30 (Zach up for his regular social visit) and finally 8:00 (Luke, bounding out of bed, cheery and completely fever-free).

OK, so maybe it wasn't that bad after all. Luke seems OK today. What's that? The sound of experienced parents across the country rolling their eyes?

Well the main reason I wanted to blog in the first place was to note that Zach seems to have begun social smiles. Just a few here and there, but we'll take it. Especially today.

The Goo

What a crazy, motley crew we are. The theme of today's entry is, don't take anything I say too seriously because it will change in 48 hours anyway. That includes 10-Pound Gorilla (I think Zach is now 11 pounds), Mellow Man (he's getting sorta fussy), and Good Old Whatshisname (we almost exclusively call him The Goo now). Goo, by the way, can be a noun ("Can you hold the Goo?"), a verb ("I think he just wants to goo") or an interjection ("Goo!")

I don't have anything particularly clever, cheeky, or observant to say, so I'll just fill this entry in with some pics from the weekend. We're bound to have more, better pics this weekend after Super Photographer Bill-o comes over, but this is a start.


Dave chose to start Father's Day weekend by running a 5K on the sand with Luke in the stroller. Zach and I waited on the pier for their triumphant return.



Then Dave took his dad out for a "meeting" that just happened to involve about 56,000 people and nine innings. Good thing Luke wasn't interested in going to the meeting because he desperately needed the nap time.

Grandma Bobbie stayed back at the house with us and just as I finished telling her how Zach was getting kinda fussy, Zach cooed and gooed all evening.



Oh, and speaking of cheeky, Zach appears to have gained most of his weight in his face. It's funny, and cute, and makes me feel good because he really looks like a healthy, regular kid.

At one point in the hospital, when I was feeling bad that Zach wouldn't be home for Mother's Day, Dave and the occupational therapist were trying to make me feel better: "He'll be home by his high school graduation" "He'll be home by the first day of kindergarten" "He'll be home by next Mother's Day"



"Will he be home by Father's Day?" I asked. "Almost certainly yes," was the response. And now here we are. Sweet relief.

10-pound gorilla

The real headline to begin with is that Zach has crossed the 10-pound mark (10 pounds 5 ounces last Thursday, so probably more by now). Does he feel heavier? Let me check my lower back: Yes, yes he does.

I took a surprising amount of flak for the sweet, some would say saccharine, nature of some of the last few blog entries. It seems I'm not living up to my usual cranky standards. Well, complainers, you're in luck because today the theme is cold brutal reality. Did I make it sound like things were easy? Not on a night like last night, when we were all super-tired to begin with, and then Luke started to melt down, and then Zach got incredibly fussy, and suddenly it was complete chaos with poop everywhere (don't ask). Luke finally managed to pull himself together after a long bath and a walk, and he calmed down enough to go down peacefully for a surprisingly early bedtime. Zach kept fussing and fussing until I gave him some infant gas drops, and then, like magic, he was completely calm and happy, gazing serenely at the bottle of simethicone for the next half hour. I guess you could say the gas was my fault (curse you, refried beans, for tasting so good) but in the end we worked it out and everyone was reasonably happy, or at least asleep and not able to complain about it anymore. At 10 pm, after having spent the last three hours in parental anguish, Dave and I looked at each other to say, "Is it finally over now?"

We haven't seen much in the way of direct sibling rivalry so far, but Luke is definitely testing limits in other ways. For one thing, I was in the hospital for so long that at some point in Luke's mind I shifted from Female Lead to Lovable Recurring Guest Star. He wants to spend as much time with me as possible, but he doesn't think of me as any kind of authority figure. That's led to some unfortunate conflicts, like last night when I asked him to stop drumming right next to Zach's head, and he said no, and I said I mean it, and he said no, and so on, which led to sitting in the corner (Luke not me, though the corner seemed pretty good right around then) and drumsticks being taken away. It's a familiar pattern that's been repeating itself for the last few days and I'm hoping we only have a few more rounds to go before he gives up on the need to keep testing me.

Let's see, what else is there to complain about? Zach is very congested, which makes it hard for him to breathe or eat, especially after a long sleeping spell. His longest stretch of sleep at night ends at about 4:30 or 5:00 am. But then it takes him a half-hour or so to wake up, get acclimated, and clear his nose enough to nurse effectively. Then it's a little before 6 when he finishes, and I pump some more and try to get Zach back to sleep. Then it's 6:30 when I crawl back into bed and close my eyes, just in time for...Luke to wake up and come bounding in to the room. So my morning effectively begins at 4:30.

What else? Did I mention my state of complete and utter personal disorganization at home? The mail that I haven't opened since February? The food items I keep finding in the fridge that say "Best by March 1"? The extra 20 pounds or so I'm carrying around in my midsection?

Yesterday afternoon I abandoned everything and left all three men at home to go to my friend Renee's surprise birthday party, spectacularly pulled off by her husband Dan. In order to get ready I had to open up new contact lenses, re-pierce my ears, and (literally) dust off my nice pair of shoes that I hadn't worn in four months. But when I got there it was so cool to see everyone again, and get back into the swing of things, and talk about things beyond 4 am wakeups and diaper changes and meltdowns and gas drops. Once Zach's "quarantine" is lifted we'll all be able to be out there together and maybe I'll stop complaining so much. And maybe my critics, you know who you are, will lighten up a little bit too.

Mellow man

Who is Zach? Is his personality already more or less formed as a mellow guy who will agree with just about anything? Or have we been fooled into thinking that he's laid back because he's been a pre-newborn for so long, and any day he's about to erupt into a fussy, feisty baby?

Zach puts up with a lot, that's for sure. Luke is very gentle with him, but a three-year-old's idea of gentle is a little heavy-handed. Luke's new favorite pastime is to take two drumsticks, settle in next to me wherever I'm feeding Zach, and bang out some loud "music" to accompany nursing. It annoys me, but Zach seems unfazed. Or Luke, who has a cold, will grudgingly wash his hands before touching Zach, and then completely miss the point by sneezing on him. Zach takes it all in stride.

Another funny personality thing: Zach doesn't appear to be much of a morning person. He's a little slow and groggy in the morning, especially when Luke wakes the rest of us up bright and early. But by evening, Zach is in his element. He's bright-eyed and curious, happy to just look around. And at no point during the day is there any of the inconsolable colicky fussing we used to see with Luke.

Or is it just yet to come?

Each night, after he gives Zach a midnight bottle, Dave leaves me a note about how things went. Last night (this morning?) when I got up with Zach at 3:30 am I read the following note:

"2:30 am (crossed out) 2:45 am (crossed out) 3:00 am:

"Zach wouldn't wake at 12:30 or 1:00 but at 1:15 he was eager - took 50 cc's and was ready to PARTY. Busy/energetic/a bit (crossed out) pretty fussy. Dad is tired/ruined (poor me)."

That made me a little nervous. We've had it pretty easy at night, relatively speaking. We haven't had to make any late-night car trips or long rocking and pacing sessions to get Zach to fall asleep. Are things about to get much harder? Or will our mellow man continue to just kind of go with the flow? Wish us luck...

Good old whatshisname

Top five Zach nicknames:

1. Zachary Zoo

2. Zacky Farms

3. Zaquito

4. Z

5. Luke-I-mean-Zach

Ode to a Dad

I realized recently that I've mentioned Dave only a handful of times, and mostly in the context of him driving back and forth to the hospital. He really deserves far more credit for everything he's done.

Consider the fact that Dave was essentially a single dad for eight solid weeks. That means he was solely in charge of getting Luke dressed, making lunches, reading books, managing meltdowns, doing laundry, taking to school, supervising potty time, putting to bed, and every other imaginable parental duty round the clock. All of that was on top of doing his actual job, managing the house, trying to stay in reasonably good shape, paying the bills (well, most of them - sorry about that, Water Department!), and keeping me happy in the hospital.

But what makes him such a good dad isn't just what he does in the extraordinary times, it's what he does all year long.

He's a world-class book enthusiast who spends hours scouring the web for reviews of kids' books and then surprises Luke with something new every few days. We can credit Dave at least in part for Luke being such a voracious reader.

He's a huge music fan who gives Luke new inspiration all the time. And I'm not talking about goofy Barney tunes -- Luke's personalized Ipod playlist is a truly eclectic mix of Mexican polka (Los Tucanes' "accordion" song), Celia Cruz (the "caramelos" song), classic bluegrass (the "running funny banjo" song), obscure Bob Dylan (the "picnic in the bathroom" song), 1940's big band standards ("Choo choo cha-boogie"), goofy Burl Ives ("Watch the Donut"), 90's nostalgia (Beck's "Girl"), and some Dan Zanes mixed in for good measure. Two weeks ago Dave drove Luke up into the mountains for a bluegrass festival and Luke has been talking about banjos, fiddles, and musical saws ever since.

Then there are the projects. Oh, the projects... Dave has a running list of things around the house that need to get done, and when he's ready to do them, he and Luke will make a run to Home Depot, prepare the tools and equipment, and then get to work -- Luke quivering with excitement all the while.


One of Luke's favorite kind of projects is hole-digging at the beach, and it's a fine coincidence that Dave is one of the best hole-diggers around. The two of them will "work" for hours at a time until Luke finally declares that the workers are finished and it's time to go home.

So how does this all apply to Zach? Dave is just as enthusiastic about getting to know Zach and starting to learn all of the things that will make him happy. When Zach is fussy, I pretty much have just one thing that I offer him. But Dave, by design, has had to come up with a whole bag of tricks. At night Dave is the world's best Harvey Karp-er (translation for those who haven't had a baby in the last 10 years: swaddling and shushing), to the point where as soon as Dave picks him up, Zach basically melts with relief into Dave's arms.



Zach also seems to have developed an appreciation for watching baseball, which automatically warms Dave's heart. The two of them can be found most nights after 11 pm, hunkered down on the couch together watching highlights from that night's game.

I get lots of jokes about what it's going to be like living in a house with three men (or boys, depending on how you look at it) and the truth is, I think it's going to be incredibly cool. To have one big Dave and two mini-Daves around the house...I will never lack for someone to do projects, music to cheer me, piles of affectionate sweetness...and...hmmm...long spa days while the boys are off at baseball games. Luke and Zach are two lucky guys to have a dad like Dave, and I'm just glad to be a part of the team.

Thanksgiving in May

I'm starting to have this feeling that people are thinking, "OK, he was born early, but he's FINE! Get over it already!" And in fact, now that Zach's due date is here, I am about to get over it and stop looking back. But I'm not going to let this particular milestone pass without at least pausing to be so very, very thankful that things worked out the way they did. On that horrible, scary March 2 when I checked into the hospital, we just didn't know how everything was going to turn out - and at that frighteningly early date, the doctors couldn't necessarily give us assurance that it was all going to be fine. Today Dave said that he is only now feeling like he can express some sort of relief, with the acknowledgment that at one point we had to face the unthinkable.

Now fast forward to Memorial Day weekend when I thought I was going to be delivering a baby and here I am with a healthy, happy, nearly five-week-old (?) (see last entry) bundle of cuteness sleeping on my chest as I type. As Unk famously said at our wedding, "What more can we be but grateful?"




So - onward. Yesterday we had the rare treat of having both families together for a joyous Memorial Day barbecue.

Grandma Bobbie and Luke made the guacamole, Suzi made the potato salad, Dave grilled the chicken and burgers, Grandma Joan made the apple cake, Granddad picked out the ice cream, Papa lugged the seltzer, and Bill-o took the pictures - it was a massive group effort and we chowed down big-time.

(Note to Joe: Yes, your grill is bigger than our grill. You win.)

Zach must have been in seventh heaven because he had multiple warm laps to snuggle in and he slept through most of it.


Today Dave set up the big tent at the beach and we all walked down together, with Zach snuggled up on my chest in the Bjorn. It was fun for a while but a little chillier and windier than anticipated. By the time Luke transitioned from "I want to live at the beach right here in this tent!" to "I want to go home NOW!" we knew it was time to call it a morning.


Speaking of Luke, he is so far the sweetest big brother a person could ask for. We've been trying to keep him apart from Zach this weekend because Luke has had a cold, but we've had no such luck. Luke finds Zach nearly irresistible. When Zach cries, Luke is the first to rush to his side, saying, "It's OK, Zach, it's OK!" This morning when Zach was fussing a little, Luke took it upon himself to serenade his brother with the guitar. I can't wait until Zach is able to react and he can show Luke the smile that I know he wants so badly to make.

But Zach's crying seems to be relatively rare, limited mostly to hunger and diaper changes. Today he spent most of the day in a super-alert phase, gazing at the cover of one of Luke's books all through lunch and looking around the table earnestly at dinner time. His only complaint was when I got in the hot tub before dinner (for the first time since September, by the way). I guess he just doesn't want to miss out on any of the fun.

Now that my parents have been here for almost a month, I'm slowly preparing myself for their departure. My mom remarked the other day that we are doing much better than when she first got here. When I expressed disbelief, she pointed out that at the beginning of May I was pumping round the clock and getting pushed in a wheelchair to visit Zach in intensive care. Now I'm walking back and forth to the beach every day and toting around a happy little nursling. She's right, I know, but it will be hard to let them go. I remember when they stayed with us for ten days when Luke was born, and crying after they left about how we were ever going to make it work. This time around it should be twice as hard, but I'm probably twice as confident that we'll figure it out somehow. And - I promise this will be the last mushy thing I'm going to say - I'm just so happy we'll have the chance to learn.

Age: Zero

"Eight pounds, nine ounces," announces our pediatrician, the Amazing Dr. L. "That's pretty impressive considering he's technically..." She stops to look back at his chart - "...not born yet."

I know it sounds strange to say but we're not really sure how old Zach is. Do we go by his birth age or his gestational age? We got a partial answer to that yesterday from Dr. L.: It depends. For the purposes of vaccinations we go by birth age, so he's four weeks old. But for things like developmental milestones, we have to go by his May 31/June 1 due date, so he's zero, or more accurately, negative one week.

It seems strange to think of him as a newborn because he really is a fairly big, healthy-looking guy. He's gained a pound in the past week and if you didn't know any better you wouldn't look at him and think "preemie." But Dr. L. laid down the law yesterday: He is still at high risk for infection, and thus no matter how healthy he looks, he's not allowed out in public for at least six weeks after his due date. That means he can't go to the mall, Luke's school, kids' parties, or any other "germ fest," as Dr. L. put it, where well-meaning people might touch him or get in his face. It seems harsh, but if the risk is an infection that might put him back in the hospital, we'll wait until the middle of July.

When he does make his formal social debut, the really cool thing is that he already has a built-in gang of buddies. Since January, our various mom-friends have given birth to five little boys - Race, Hudson, Spencer, Daniel, and Ryan - and that doesn't even account for all of our little friends who were born in the second half of 2006. Zach may be the littlest, at least for a while, but I'm sure he can't wait to get out and start whooping it up with the rest of the crew.

Once we're out there, I'm sure I'll have to answer the inevitable question, "How old is he?" Between now and then, let's see if I can figure out a way to respond in less than five hundred words.

Baby-moon

This is our time to get to know Zach, and we're loving every minute of it. We've learned that he's got a laid-back personality that's kind of like, "I've got no complaints - well, diaper changes are not too cool - but hey, I'm just happy to be here!" He is content to spend hours making googly eyes and looking around in amazement at everything; and when it's time to go to sleep, his general attitude is, "Sleep? Sure! Sounds good to me!" (Of course that wasn't the case between 2 am and 5 am last night, but that's another story.) He's also quick to let us know what he likes and doesn't like: Walks in the stroller = good; sitting still at the beach = bad; singing the "Little Potato" song = good; taking a bath = bad.

I also find myself amazed at how physically strong he is. They say that babies who develop in a compromised environment (i.e. spending seven weeks with ruptured membranes) tend to compensate by growing stronger. (The three doses of steroids I had at the hospital might have helped too.) In Zach's case he is a little powerhouse of wiry strength; able to lift his head and hold it, and practically able to roll himself over.

In general, I'm trying to avoid comparisons that begin with, "Luke was x and Zach is y..." but I will say this: I am a different person this time around. For one thing, I'm more relaxed. Sure, I see those eyes rolling among those who know me well, but I swear it's true, even with all of the caveats about the special care that a preemie post-NICU baby needs. He's been gaining weight steadily since he's been home so we must be doing something right, right? I genuinely feel confident that I can handle it, and that's a big change from last time around.

The second thing is I'm actually able to get a little bit of sleep. It's not great, because I've been getting up at night for each bottle-feeding, then pumping for the next round, and that leaves me about 90 minutes in between each session to get some sleep. But last time around I was never able to fall asleep in those interim periods and I basically went weeks without sleep. This time I'm mostly able to fall asleep in little chunks. It's not great, but it's something.

Oh, and the real headline is that I might be getting to the point where I can phase out the pumping. One really good session with the lactation consultant this morning and Zach seems to have made the connection between me and the milk he drinks. As of this afternoon he's been nursing like a pro. If this holds up, it might mean that I can add 20 minutes or so to my sleep sessions now...





Here's Dave working with Zach in tow. Notice how I'm not offering any pictures of myself - there's a good reason for that. Sometimes I swear even Zach looks at me to say, "Gee mom, you look like a wreck."



So how is Luke doing? Overtly, he's a proud and happy big brother. And it's good that he has other outlets for his energies, like Grandma and Papa (seen here, making cookies with my mom).



But he has not-so-subtle ways of showing his need for attention: "Daddy, why don't you let Grandma Joan hold Zach?" "Mommy, I think Zach just wants to be alone in his room right now."

Two nights I decided to go for a walk after dinner and no one else wanted to come so I set out alone. Apparently moments after I left, Luke decided he wanted to come with me after all, and he spent the next 20 minutes or so in complete meltdown mode, wailing uncontrollably. When I finally got back home, he was a crumpled, tear-soaked, pathetic little heap on the floor. It nearly broke my heart. "He's been through a lot these past few weeks," my mom pointed out - the understatement of the year. But the good news is that I took him with me last night and I think we have the beginnings of a new tradition: Special After Dinner Mommy-Lukey Walk. It's time that I need as much as he does.

Burning question of the week: Why "Enzo?"

We've gotten all sorts of questions: Is there a relative named Enzo? Is it after the car (men only)? Is it after the shoes (women only)? Is it after Enzo the Baker (Godfather fans only)? I'll say this much: We had a few more mundane middle names picked out, but after a certain point in this long process, we decided he needed something with much more pizazz. Plus Dave has had a long-running campaign to give a kid a super-Italian name, and I ruled out "Massimo" as a first name many months ago. (Example: "Tonight Jeanne, Dave, Luke, and Massimo are coming over to visit." "Jeanne and Dave and Luke are bringing a little old man with them?")

But ultimately the middle name choice was up to Dave, and he chose Enzo. So I'll turn the question over to him: Why Enzo?

Dave gives me a withering look. "Because he couldn't have been named anything else."

Zach is home!!!

Zach is home!!!

Here we are leaving the NICU in triumph.

Total days at the hospital for me and Zach = 74

Now we're turning to a phase of our lives that calls for more sleep deprivation and less recreational blogging...

For now, the news is that Zach is currently sleeping. Whew. That wasn't the case last night, when he spent most of the night either looking around in awe of his new surroundings or complaining about something that I still haven't figured out how to identify. (Hey, I thought he slept all the time!) But who cares, we're home, Luke is jumping out of his skin with excitement, and we all made it through the first night.

Here's to many happy days and at least some sleep in the next few months.

Mother's Day

Fear not the Hand!

Of course I'm kidding. It's only a little bit scary if you're not expecting it. The nurses made this super-cool little Zach hand mold for me for Mother's Day...with support from Charlie's Buddies, an amazing little foundation that does all sorts of things to help and cheer NICU parents.

So I guess it goes without saying that Zach is not home for Mother's Day. That would have been a nice, poetic, Hallmark-y kind of way to end this whole long process, but he's not, so it's not, and here we are and life continues to go on.

Still, he's on his way. He passed the car seat test and he's been drinking all of his bottles today. That puts him on track for a Tuesday or Wednesday homecoming. I'm excited but trying to maintain some restraint so I'm more in the range of "cautiously optimistic."

Now I know I've been a little snarky/sarcastic about Mother's Day, but here's the thing about it: It helped me remember just how much fun it is to be a mom and how much I missed it when I was stuck in the hospital. Luke and I used to have outstanding adventures together all the time and I'm only just starting to be able to recapture that. I didn't even realize how much I missed all of the little things, like helping him get dressed, reading books, making him lunch, or having him help me cook. One of my favorite things is when he crawls into my lap to give me a hug and says, "Mommy, you're such a mommy."

*Sigh.* How did I ever manage to spend so much time away from him?

The other thing is being in awe of my mom, the unsung hero of the last two weeks. As soon as she got here, she just rolled up her sleeves and quietly got to work on cooking, shopping, cleaning, laundry - exactly the kind of help I needed while I worked on recuperating and getting my life back together.

On Friday, Luke had a special Mothers' Day tea at his school and I asked my mom to come with us. She mulled it over and then told me that I should go with Luke alone: "It sounds like you need some special mommy time with him."

Of course she was right, and of course I had a great time with Luke. I only hope I can be so wise and selfless some day. Now I'm going to focus on getting Zach home so I can get some more good practice.

Turning a corner...

Finally things are happening!

On Tuesday I called Nurse Jo on our way to the hospital to find out how Zach had done with his last few feedings, and it was probably the first time I had heard her truly excited: "He woke up at 1:30 for his 2:00 feeding and he was so hungry he looked like he was going to eat the crib! Now he's starting to wake up again -- you'd better get over here fast!"

Yesterday Nurse Bonnie reported that Zach had suddenly started fussing like a full-term baby. "I had a great day with him," she said. "It was like seeing him start to be a real baby."

Sure enough, when we got him up for his 8:00 feeding last night he was spitting mad until he finally got a bottle into his mouth. It was a welcome change of pace from the sleep-prone guy we've gotten to know. If he can keep up that level of energy, and the ability to finish off all of his bottles, he's earned his ticket home.

But it's not easy to leave the NICU, as we've learned. After he proves that he can eat on his own eight times a day, he has to pass a hearing test (which he did); then Dave and I have to get our CPR up to date; then we have to have a car seat test. That test involves fitting Zach into his car seat with all of his monitors attached (heart rate, respiratory rate, oxygen levels); then they observe him for an hour to make sure that he is functioning well (i.e. not slumped over) in the seat.

Compare this to way back when I was born, four weeks early, and they handed me over to my mom with nothing more than a "Good luck with that baby" - and no one had ever even heard of a car seat.

At this point I'll jump through just about any hoop I need to if it'll get him home. And poor Dave - tomorrow marks the 10-week mark of him having driven back and forth to the hospital every single day. He's a guy who just wants to be a dad, more than anyone I've ever met. Let's hope he gets a break soon...very soon.

Q and A

Just thought I'd get a few things sorted out:

Q: Why is Zach still in the NICU?
A: He has to stay there until he can learn how to eat on his own, eight times a day. That means he has to stay awake for all 8 feedings and he can't use the feeding tube as a backup. Right now he manages about 3 or 4 partial feedings.

Q: When will he come home?
A: Hard to say, because no one really knows how long it will take him to get the hang of eating. The NICU medical director told me on Saturday that most babies pick it up at around the 37 or 38 week mark. For Zach, that means another week or two. The doctor also told us that even though we're giving him lots of practice with the bottle, the real development that has to take place is neurologically...and we can't make that happen, it'll just happen on its own.

Q: Weren't you expecting him home a lot sooner?
A: Yes. I honestly had myself convinced it would just be a few days. Yes, I'm sad about it.



Q: Is he making progress?
A: Apparently he is, but I'm just too close to the scene to tell. My parents swear he is bigger and more alert than when they got here five days ago. Today the nurse put him on the feeding tube because she thought he was tired, but instead of sleeping he just sucked on the pacifier and made googly eyes at us the whole time (see pic). That's good, by the way. Any awake time is one more step ahead.

Q: Doesn't he want to just yank out the feeding tube?
A: He pokes at it every now and then, but he seems to just accept it as yet another thing on his face. It's taped on pretty well too.

Q: How is Luke doing?
A: He seems to have temporarily forgotten about Zach because he's been so busy whooping it up and having a ball with Grandma and Papa. Now that they're here to watch him, he doesn't have to go to the hospital every day. But he is doing well and we've been trying to keep showing him pictures and talking about Zach.

Q: (From Tom and Jen) Now that the baby is born, you don't really have any excuse not to run the Fargo Marathon at the end of May, do you?
A: Hm. You're right. Let me just find my running shoes. They're around here somewhere. No, no, don't wait. You go ahead...

The Long Haul

Here's Zach. Is he just the coolest guy or what?

Anyway...If I were more of a 'glass is half full' kind of person, like Dave, I would start out by saying that Zach is doing great, that he's making good progress day by day. But the fact is, I'm feeling kinda low. It's not postpartum depression; it's more like postpartum frustration. I'm tired of spending days running back and forth to the hospital. I'm tired of having to surrender our baby at the end of every too-short visit. I just want him to come home, and there's no clear answer about how long it will take.

All of this belly-aching should explain why Dave instituted a house rule the other day: It's OK to be sad but it's not OK to feel sorry for yourself. That one gave me pause for a bit. I've been on the baby scene long enough to know that plenty of people have it worse than we do: the moms who are still struggling to get pregnant or stay pregnant; the moms whose water broke early like mine but whose babies didn't make it; the moms whose babies have been in the NICU for 3 months or more; the moms who have a sick child in the hospital...the list goes on. We're among the truly lucky ones. And as Fairy Godmother Joanne pointed out this morning, worrying or stewing isn't going to get Zach home any sooner - he'll let us know very clearly when he's ready on his own time.

So, back to Zach. He has up and down days. He's done really well on two of the last three visits, especially with latching on and nursing. But then there are times like this afternoon when he makes it abundantly clear that he's too tired to even open his mouth. That's when we just have to step back and let him be a sleepy preemie.

The doctor told us something interesting about preemies in the NICU: She said that in the past they wouldn't have even attempted to bottle-feed 34-weekers, they would have just fed them through a tube and let them sleep the day away. But insurance companies have stepped up the pressure on the NICUs to show measurable progress toward the babies learning to eat. The end result is that they are challenging the babies a lot more and a lot earlier than they ever did in the past. The trick is that, as with Zach, we have to keep watching really closely and learning his cues for when he's had enough.

My parents are here now, which is a big relief in a lot of ways because they are helping with everything : cooking, dishes, grocery shopping , laundry, cleaning, babysitting, driving back and forth to the hospital, etc. Makes me realize that we actually needed more help than we thought we did. My only hope is that they are still able to be here when Zach comes home and the real juggling act begins.

Awards for best baby-on-the-brain moments:

First prize: Me. Dave and I are sitting in the NICU and I'm holding Zach while the nurse tells us that we should check out the NICU family lounge down the hall. I zone out for a few minutes, rocking Zach, and then turn to Dave:
Me: "So, how is that family lounge?"
Dave: "Uh...I've been sitting here the whole time?"

Second prize: Dave: "I'm so glad that when Zach was born the first phone call we made was to Luke. We weren't able to do that when Luke was born because...Luke was the one being born."

Third prize: Luke. We're dropping off our nightly breast milk supply at the NICU nurses' station and Luke calls out to our nurse: "At night do the nurses sometimes just drink up all of the milk?"

Eating 101

Quick Zach wrap-up:
*He's off the IV
*He's off the bili lights and in a regular infant crib (albeit on a special bili blanket)
*He's off the antibiotics
*The only thing left for him to do before he can come home is learn how to eat.
Sadly, that last one is a biggie. He's sleepy most of the time and it's hard to rouse him at feeding times. He'll latch on to me very briefly, then nod off; or he'll start a bottle of breastmilk and fall asleep before finishing it. Or he'll finish a whole bottle and it'll exhaust him so much he'll sleep through the next feeding. It just takes his little brain a lot of concentration to do all the things he needs to do at one time. He still has his feeding tube so that they can give him the rest of what he needs through the tube. Again, they say this is all very typical for a 34- or 35-weeker.





It can be frustrating, but one thing that lightens the load is Luke. Fresh off his second sibling class, he knows all about changing diapers, giving a baby a bottle, and burping him. Luke has also become an expert at the breast pump - he helps turn it on and off and he is mesmerized by watching the front of it (it's clear plastic with all of the machinery exposed) when it's on. When he's with Zach, he's the most enthusiastic sideline coach: "Zach! You have to open your mouth wider!" and "Zach! Stay awake!" Luke can't wait to teach him to talk, play guitar, and build things. I think it's partly Luke's enthusiasm that helps us keep from getting dragged down by the long days at the hospital.


Speaking of Luke, and the hospital, it's worth remarking that he is a total celebrity there. Every day I am amazed at how yet another person seems to know his name. And I'm talking about people in the departments we don't even go to -- the security guard at the emergency room, the nurses in the regular (non-NICU) nursery, and even other parents whom we haven't yet met at the NICU. Yesterday Luke insisted on visiting our old friends in Labor and Delivery before we left. When we walked up to the nurses' station, it was as if George Clooney had just happened to stop by. All activity stopped; someone paged Head Nurse Diane to return from her break so she wouldn't miss Luke, there was much squealing and hugging, and then Luke quickly resumed his usual position behind the desk -- sending pneumatic tubes downstairs and catching up on his paperwork. You really would not believe it unless you could see it.


Back to Zach again: Surprisingly, he is the same length as Luke was when he was born. Luke just had a few extra weeks to put on two-plus more pounds. Zach is long and lean, a trait he obviously gets from Dave, and his fingers and toes are long and slender. It's hard to give perspective but you may be able to see here from the nametag the nurses made just how big his feet are.

Zach also has these enormous blue eyes, which, when opened, look all around at everything. He has a little furrow in his brow that makes him look incredibly serious or perhaps concerned, but maybe that's just him realizing how loud his brother is. So far Zach is not much of a crier (unlike certain other brothers) and is quite mellow and content to just kind of go with the flow. He'll need that...

Otherwise, Dave and I are doing OK, although perhaps under a little stress due to excessive juggling of commitments combined with baby brain. Today when I mistakenly put a bottle of breast milk in Luke's school lunch bag, Dave said, "It's great to have you back...at least physically..." Ouch.

Here are three of the most beautiful men you'll ever see together at one time:

The New Normal

Zachary Enzo was born on April 23 at 6:25 pm. As a 34-week preemie he has a special set of challenges. I'm hoping to use this blog as a way to give some brief updates on his condition as he makes his journey from the NICU to the real world. I'll fill in the background with some pictures:



4/23: Zach is born and everyone is thrilled! Team Zach from left: Super Nurse Kim, on whose arm I left permanent fingernail marks; All-Star Nurse Linda, who has been one of my greatest cheerleaders and supporters from the beginning and who is herself a veteran bedrest mom; Celebrity Doctor to the Stars Naghi; and you know the rest.




Zach was breathing all by himself from the very beginning so they let him stay with me for a few minutes before they took him to the NICU. Many tears were shed (and I'm not just talking about me).

Our first call is to Luke (at Hatcher's house) and he is thrilled to hear the news. Later, when he meets him, he gently combs Zach's hair and teaches him how to wave goodbye.

4/24: Zach is doing well but does not seem to be able to digest food yet. He'll stay on a supplemental IV until he can. He also has antibiotics in his IV to ward off any infections that may be lingering from the long time that I was ruptured. Plus, he's in an isolette with special lights for jaundice. He's just a little over the limit so we hope it won't be long. Luckily, they give him some super-cool mini-eyeshades so he's stretched out looking like he is ready for a day at the beach.

Super photographer Bill-o captured a few shots of Zach. The tube in his nose is the feeding tube, which leads straight to his tummy.



























Here are Dave and I together, celebrating our 8th anniversary in a most unexpected way.















4/25: Today Dave and I met with Joanne, whose official title I don't know but whom I like to refer to as Fairy Godmother of the NICU, to learn everything from checking Zach's temp, to changing his diaper without disconnecting all of the wires, to nursing him. The conclusion is that even though he looks huge, he is still a 34-weeker in reality and he just hasn't gotten the whole put-something-in-your-mouth, suck, and swallow routine. Also the simplest things exhaust him so he spends most of his time sleeping. This is going to take a while...

Meantime Luke goes to the NICU siblings class with Aunt Suzi. Turns out it is a one-on-one session in the super pediatrics playroom. The first toy Luke sees is an electric guitar, so we know it's going to be good. Teacher Gina gives him two teddy bears - one for himself and one to give to Zach.

Later, it's going home time. I have a few minutes to think about how blown away I am about all of the people who helped me through these many weeks - the world's best team of nurses, of course; Dave for everything, especially for faithfully driving Luke over every day so we never missed dinner together; Dave's work for giving him so much support and flexibility; my office, for giving me a BlackBerry to stay in touch but not letting me worry about work; Julie J. and Brandi and Sarah for their enormous amounts of help too voluminous to mention here; Joe and Julie and Mom and Dad for calling me every day even from Italy; Unk and Mary and Lynn and Renee and Christine for their visits; Suzi and Bill-o and Grandma and Grandpa for taking care of Luke; Antonia and Helena and Sam and Owen for their artwork; Shonda and Elvia for stopping by on their off-time to chat; Brita for getting me addicted to Sudoku; Drs. Naghi, Chan, Wasserwald, and Cowan for helping me keep it all in perspective; churches and temples from California to Wisconsin to Texas to Florida for their prayers; and all of the many, many friends and relatives who cheered me up with emails and flowers and gifts. I am truly humbled. I hope someday I can tell Zach just how many people waited for his safe entry into the world.

As we pack up I think about how after 7 1/2 weeks it's time for a change of scenery and I'm getting excited. But when we stop by the NICU on our way out I'm crushed by the reality of leaving Zach behind. I'm finally wearing real-person clothes and I'm in a car for the first time in two months, and still I sob pathetically all of the way home.

At home, Dave sets up the hospital pump for me and the reality of the work ahead hits me hard. The plan is to be up every three hours to pump...but whether or not that actually happens remains to be seen.


4/26: The simplest joy is the greatest. I've been waiting all morning to hear the traditional thump of Luke jumping out of bed, and footsteps dashing for the door. Finally he bursts in to our room and is beside himself with excitement to see me in the bed. Much kissing, cuddling, and book-reading ensues.




After we take Luke to school, Dave and I head back to the hospital for our meeting with Fairy Godmother Joanne. Zach has moved upstairs to the 5th floor NICU nursery! Apparently he was voted Most Stable among his peers on the third floor so he was moved up with the feeders and the growers. Dave and I hum "Pomp and Circumstance" while we head upstairs.

Even better news once we get there: Zach is awake and alert and is interested in sucking! First we get him to latch on a little bit, but he doesn't get much milk since I just pumped. Then we get him to suck on the bottle and he finishes it off! His stomach is doing much better at digesting too, now that we're giving him mostly breastmilk rather than attempting formula.

We head home, triumphant, and I celebrate by taking a 3 1/2 hour nap.

Then Luke comes home from school, we eat our delicious homemade dinner (Thanks, Kelly!!!) and head back to the hospital. I can't get Zach to latch on, but I do get him to drink from the bottle. Helpful Nurse Riana gets him to finish off the rest of it. They've been boosting his feedings each time with the hopes of being able to take him off the IVs. Let's hope this does the trick.


4/27: The three of us head over to the hospital for our 10:45 meeting, this time with NICU Fairy Godmother Marcy. Turns out a lot has changed in a day: Zach was taken off the IV this morning after he was able to digest the full amount of food, and the doctor decided that we were finished with antibiotics. Sadly, all of this activity has made him super-sleepy. I change his diaper and take his temperature but even that isn't enough to rouse him. I can't get him to latch on to me. Then we try out the bottle; he drinks about 5 cc's and he's completely out. They give him the rest through the feeding tube. I'm disappointed, but as Nurse Lupe reminds me, everything has gone as well as could be expected so far. It just might be a long road in learning to feed.

More good news on the way out the door: His bilirubin levels came back just fine, so he's off the lights for now. Little by little we are making progress.

Dave and Luke and I celebrate with Mexican food for lunch. Later, I have the rare treat of putting Luke down for a nap, something I haven't done in more than two months. When he wakes up, he runs into our room and finds us both napping. The three of us spend at least 20 minutes playing "Whisper Down the Lane" and we laugh and laugh and I think, at least I'm getting to recapture some part of what I missed since March 2. Let's hope Zach can join us soon.