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?"