Saturday June 30th, 2007

Really, the hospital room is nice, but it isn’t designed for me sleeping on the floor. The nurse has to come in during regular intervals to take vitals. My air mattress takes up a lot of the floor space. In a tie between me and the nurses, the nurses win. Anyway, if I was looking to sleep comfortably, I would have stayed at home. After a while I get tired of lying there. It’s time to get up and …oh right, nevermind. I just read a novel until she wakes up. As I mentioned before, we have different ways of coping with fear. One of her things is that she needs me. Nothing major, just little things. Fluff the pillow. Pass the cell phone. More or less blankets. Juice. Water. More incline or less (but never flat). Help her eat breakfast. I am more than willing to all of these things and more. Even though she is lying there, her job is the hardest. How can I tell her no because I’m reading an exciting chapter or looking up sports scores on the Internet?

The mama Ali hates hospital food (Does anyone really like it?). On top of that, turning on her side to eat it scares the dickens out of me. So I feed her a few bites of powdered eggs. I remember it was powdered eggs because I fed her powdered eggs for breakfast everyday. I think she ate the equivalent of 3 eggs over 11 days. However, she just spent 20 hours lying in bed so it isn’t as if she’s using a lot of calories. In fact, neither of us does much of anything before the doctor arrives. All of the previous tests show that the baby weighs a little over a pound. That’s not enough. However, the doctor does have some good news. He is trying to get us transferred to Daytona. Daytona is a level 2 NICU, which means they may make an attempt to save the baby if we wish. Ormond can’t even make the attempt. There will be no transfer today though. I think that ‘consult’ cost over 300 bucks for him to tell us that he can’t do anything. I do nothing for free.

Anyway, the overnight bag was good, but in my haze, I forgot that she was going to be in the hospital for a while. It was time to go home and get the computer, books, ipod, etc. Plus I had another very important stop to make. Once her parents arrived, it was time to go. I went back to my empty house and grabbed enough stuff to keep an adult entertained for several days. I also made sure to grab some of our pillows and blankets. The hospital had plenty of each, but they just weren’t quite right. When you have your own linens with your familiar feel and smell, you rest better. Unfortunately, I later found out that they would not let her use much of it, but she at least got to use her own blanket on top of the hospital blankets. Anyway after a quick cry I went to the party supply store. I had to get some balloons and flowers. The clerk thought it was weird that I was still crying a bit, but she got her money and I got my balloons. Next stop would be over at Betty’s. Betty’s is a restaurant. I had to get some food to go. However, I don’t particularly like Betty’s all that much, so most of the food was for mama Ali.

It sounds short, but running all of those errands get me back to the hospital around dinnertime. In fact, it was a little after dinner because her dry roast beef and soggy toast were mostly gone. It was then that she notified me that it was time to go. For reasons of modesty and decency, I won’t go into details except to explain the general problem we faced. Having a bedpan was out of the question because of the twisting and turning she would have to do to put it in place and remove it. It would have involved a lot of abdominal muscle use – which we were trying to avoid. Thus, she had to use the toilet. However, that means being upright to get to the toilet, and then pushing at least a little bit. We knew this time would come and a day and a half is a long time, but it has to happen. It was risky, but ultimately nothing happened. That was the scariest bowel movement of my life.

The mama Ali was starting to be less scared. She never told me so, but that night she had done something for the first time in 2 days. She turned on the TV. It wasn’t on for long, but it was an attempt to relax. We watched some sitcom or something. We played with the balloons. I gave her the flowers I had killed in her honor. I fed her cake from her favorite restaurant. Our fear (and her inability to move) created a bond that we hadn’t felt in months. It was the most romantic wedding anniversary we ever had.

Mama Ali Says:

I am amazed that it has been a year. We have been discussing this day/ this time a year ago, alot the last few weeks. Big Ali, I love you. As you say thanks to me, it is important for you to know how much I needed you then and how much you mean to me. You did everything I asked of you to make me feel better. You held my hand when the nurses were looking for that darn vein. You didn't pace, gosh- you did'nt pace, if you know Big Ali this was big. You did all you could and still we were all afraid that it was for nothing and look at him now. I am blessed. In the words of Hillary- "Shame on you" who don't believe.
Today we celebrated our first Family Day. A day for us to be together as we were last year and to be thankful. Did I say I am amazed it has been a year. Jordan is the best son anyone could ever ask for, and no matter how mothehood came, I am so glad to have him. You may remember my thank you post and it still holds true. Thank you Big Ali and Thank you to my parents, family, friends and thoes I don't even know, for what you did for my family One year ago today. You helped save my son's life/ you helped save my peace of mind. You did more than you will ever know. As the next week comes and we get ready to celebrate Jordan's 1st Birthday, I just want you all to know I feel good, and happy to have my family, any way it came. -I may add more post as you reflect and share your thought about last year or I may not, but know this- I love you
MA

Friday June 29th, 2007

“Big Ali, your wife is on the phone.” I have been chewed out by bosses before, worked at a company that was closed down, and even fired from some jobs, but those were the scariest words I ever heard at work. I was walking down the hallway at about 10 am and the receptionist was looking for me to let me know my wife was on the phone. I knew she had an appointment with the obstetrician that morning. When my wife wants to chat she leaves a message on my direct line. When she calls the receptionist it’s because she needs to speak and needs to speak now. With ice running through my veins I walk to the front desk. This isn’t happening again. Maybe she was calling because it was twins. Maybe she felt the baby kick for the first time. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world. After her first sentence on the phone, I knew it was the end of the world.

I let my boss know the particulars and run out of the office to get to Ormond hospital. I have to call several people. I let her parents know the situation. She hasn’t even let her job know she was going to the doctor. Now I have to let them know that she is out for the duration of the pregnancy – however long that is. I drive to the hospital in a haze, crying some but I have to get there. I get to the admission area and she is sitting on a chair. I ask her to relate the story again. I ask for the doctor’s exact words hoping there’s something she’s overreacting to. In my fear it probably comes across as an interrogation. Did the doctor say you should come to the hospital or that you must? Was he reading off of a chart the results of a test, and if so did he get the charts mixed up? Did he mean admitted to the hospital or just run some tests? Every answer is the worst. My wife is sitting there as scared as I am. It would be her last time sitting for 11 days.

After finally getting the hospital room, she gets in bed and we wait. We don’t know what’s happening or why it’s happening to us, but all that matters is that she is going to lose the baby. She ate right (for a pregnant woman with cravings), no drugs, no drinking, some exercise, we even took vitamins. I even got her a step stool so she can get into bed easier. She switched to soy milk because the dairy gave her gas once and she didn’t want to hurt the baby. We’re not mad, just scared. Afraid of what will happen, afraid of what we did wrong, afraid of the past. When her mother arrives, we are still afraid. When her doctor arrives, we finally learn why.

Imagine the womb as a giant water balloon. Now pinch your fingers over the nozzle to keep the water in the balloon. For most of us that isn’t a problem. Now imagine you have the hands of an 80 year old with arthritis. You won’t be able to keep the water in there for long. Her cervix is starting to open. There are no exercises to strengthen the cervix. No stretches. No vitamins. No therapy. Usually it works. This time it doesn’t. The Internet will tell you that there is a very easy cure for it. Just stitch it closed. A procedure done in the doctors office with local anesthetic that usually takes less time than a circumcision. What the Internet won’t tell you is that it must be done in the 1st trimester. You can’t stitch it closed when it is already 4 cm open. Most women with the problem find out the way that we are finding out.

In the past whenever I visit a doctor, they are always optimists. Nothing is ever seriously wrong. If you hurt, it’s an infection to be cured with antibiotics. Joint sprain? Take a couple of days off and you’ll be fine. Our doctor tells me in the hallway out of earshot that my wife won’t be pregnant Monday morning. It’s now Friday afternoon. I explain that it’s a good thing we are in a hospital because I have heard that some NICUs can save extremely premature babies. I think this doctor is starting to take joy in giving me bad news. It turns out that there are 3 different levels of NICU. Level 3 isn’t even a NICU so much as a nursery. They offer very moderate support to babies. Level 2 NICUs can take babies as young as 27 weeks or so, but rarely have the equipment for any earlier. We need a level 1 NICU. That’s a hospital that takes the sickest of the sick and make an attempt to save them. I would later find out that they are not as successful as I would like when it comes to preemies.

I ask the doctor is there anything that can be done. He says that right now the baby is growing and putting pressure on the cervix. The growing can’t and shouldn’t be stopped, but if they can keep the legs elevated above the rest of the body some of the pressure will be taken off of the cervix. Not only will my wife literally not be allowed to get out of bed for the rest of the pregnancy, but it will be spent lying at an incline with her head at the bottom looking up at her feet. Oh, and by the way, it will probably be ultimately futile. Have a nice weekend.

By this time she is well situated in the bed with her parents there. I lie and say that I am running down to the cafeteria and will be back in 30 minutes. In truth, I am going to cry in private. I find an unused smokers bench at the side of the hospital and let loose. I cry as I haven’t cried in at least 10 years. At that time and place, I began mourning the son I would never know. I mourn the diapers that wouldn’t be changed. I mourn the bike that wouldn’t be ridden. I mourn … wait a minute, is this person really coming to take a smoke! I am having a friggin breakdown here and being in front of a hospital a reasonable person can assume that it’s for a bad reason. I know that smokers need to smoke, but if you are a hospital patient, maybe you can take a day off. Even if you can’t, I am clearly in the mood to be left alone. Go somewhere else! I was in no mood to fight, but I really wished ill towards this woman.

I wasn’t ashamed to cry in front of my wife. I had done it previously and would do it many more times during the coming summer. I think it takes more strength to be vulnerable than to hide your feelings with your spouse. I was ashamed because of why I was crying. My wife was afraid – scared to death. I wasn’t scared because I knew what was going to happen. I knew that she was going to try and hold on as long as possible, and that I wanted her to try, but I just knew she would fail. It wasn’t her fault, but no one who was 4cm dilated in the 21st week of pregnancy could deliver a viable baby. She was going to attempt the impossible and there was no way that she would ever find out that I didn’t believe in her. She won’t know that I felt that way until she reads these words.

I make my way back upstairs to be the husband. My wife is at her most vulnerable and I can’t take any more time for myself. She needs me more than she has ever needed me and if I have to skip lunch so be it. She is talking with her mother and her father has arrived by now. The best way to be there for my wife right now is to leave. Our life is getting ready to change in ways that we aren’t in anyway prepared for. First up, I have to go home.

We have two little dogs at home. I don’t know what the immediate future holds for me, but it doesn’t hold a lot of time at home to tend to my dogs. I have to pack them and their stuff up. They won’t be home again for two weeks. My wife left work for a short appointment and never expected to stay overnight. Now, I have to pack the overnight hospital bag. Had someone told me a day earlier that it was time to pack an overnight bag at the end of 21 weeks, I would have said it was too soon. Today it was too late. I was supposed to have a list of things to read from. It was supposed to be the two of us spending a Sunday afternoon joking about underwear and maternity pants. It was supposed to have some sort of clothes for a baby. I do my best to grab a mix of maternity and not maternity clothes and toiletries. I also pack a knapsack for myself and I’m out of the house in 30 minutes.

When I get to my parents house I unload the dogs. My parents like my dogs, but they are little dogs who stand less than 12 inches at the shoulder. They easily and willingly get lost in their house at times. However, there is no doubt that they will watch the dogs now. The hard part was telling my father why I was bringing the dogs over. My father has always been willing to do for me. Whenever I needed help, he was there. As a teenager he once offered to spend 50 bucks on a bowling ball that I didn’t ask for because all of my friends had one. I know that when I was an adolescent he made sure that I never wanted for anything even when it was hard for him to provide. He has always been a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen. This was a seminal moment in my life and he could do nothing. Reassurance? Fruitless. Money? Irrelevant. Ride to and from the hospital? I didn’t intend on leaving for some time. Talking? I clearly didn’t want to. I was going to endure one of the toughest periods of my life and he couldn’t do anything . He said a few words that I don’t remember and I was on my way back to the hospital.

Soon we were in the room alone just the two of us (or did it count as three of us?). My in laws were gone, it was after dark and we would have no more visitors that day. When something like this happens, you are in an unusual position. You have a million things you want to say, and you have nothing to say. Of course is the standard reassurances. Also, the professions of love. What else? We’ve been married long enough to know what we are feeling and how we deal with it. We’re both afraid, and I’m usually a pacer. However, that would just remind her she can’t get up. You can only ask the nurses for so many pitchers of water and blankets before you’re good to go. I eventually find the snack room where they have free juice and coffee for the dads. I even unpack the clothes and put them in the drawer. We eventually just hold hands until she drifts off to sleep

Tour Pics - Part 2

This is Aunt Lois - Uncle James' wife. She's from the old school that doesn't want to hold a baby because you could give him germs, but Jordan eventually won her over.

This is the borther of Pop Pop and his wife. Jordan loved their piano and their dogs.

I don't usually wear the wife beater out in public, but I had traveled a very long distance that day without a car. When I have to walk over 3 miles in 90 degree heat, I don't complain, but I do sweat.

The mama Ali's godmother. She let us stay in her hourse for the week and we certainly appreciate it. She is sitting with her daughter and granddaughter.

We took this picture from Greektown. Don't call me racist - the signs said welcome to greek town. According to what we saw in greek town all greek people do is eat at $50 a dinner restaurants everyday because there was no other businesses on the main street.

The little boy in the picture was Josh. Josh is 4 years old and thought the idea of making a baby laugh was the best idea in history. Now, Jordan wants a big brother for Xmas.

Tour Pics - Part 1

Let me first say that there will be other pics from the trip, but it's late and I'm tired.

Say Cheese!

Not a picture from the trip, but when he can sit up like this, then it's time to stop using this swing. We won't use this swing again until we have another baby (approx. 2015)

This is a special pic. Jordan got to meet uncle James, the man who married us. James was happy, Jordan was hungry.

The mama Ali and her godsister got into some sort of diaper changing race. Jordan is the baby with the penis.

We took Jordan downtown to show him the sights and paid $30 for parking and $4.50 per gallon of gas for the priviledge of taking a picture of him sleeping. 10 years from now when he asks to visit Chicago, I'll show him this picture and tell him that he has already been there.

Just a little jam session with Pop pop. He actually enjoyed the trip overall, but he is becoming a big boy. I know everyone wants to know how he handled flying. He couldn't have done better. We fed him a bottle during the first takeoff so his ears wouldn't pop and he spent half the flight sleeping. On the way back, we tried giving him a pacifier during the descent for the same reason and he wasn't having it. He would not keep it in because he kept trying to play with the nice man sitting in the seat next to me. He giggled most of the time down. Which brings me to another thing.

He has started cheesing for strangers a whole lot lately. If you bring a 7 month old out in public, people want to start smiling and playing with him. If he is in a playful mood, he loves that. He loves kids. He loves other peoples grandparents. He loves his own grandparents. He loves men. He loves women. If you like him, then he likes you - as long as he's in the mood. I'm not really complaining (relatives give you more toys for a happy baby), but sometimes I think strangers should have to work to make him smile. He gives it up too easy.

Tour Update

Well, as expected, Jordan has been a big hit in Chicago. Or course it mostly has to do with the baby. He rarely fusses so people are pleasantly surprised to meet him. Some babies tend to fuss when strangers hold them. Jordan will glance at the person holding him and then try to find something interesting to look at. Uncle George may be nice, but he isn't as interesting as his ceiling fan. Anyway, his flight up here was as expected. We fed him a bottle during take off, he wanted to play during the first half of the flight, fell asleep over Tennessee and didn't wake up until the engines were shut off. We expected a crowd of screaming ladies waiting for us at the airport. Instead we only got a diaper that I would describe as "impressive". We head back to FL tomorrow and there will be pics and videos and details within a few days.

Going out for a 'Party'

This video is actually pretty abridged. It actually went on for a good 20 minutes. And I mean a GOOD 20 minutes. Seeing the way he enjoys spalshing his baths we shouldn't have been surprised how much he enjoyed this. I should have brought his rubber ducky.

The mama Ali had a wake up call last weekend. We went over to her father's house and Pop Pop asked how his baby was doing. She actually answered as if he was asking about her. No one (other than me) has asked how she was doing in months, and no one is going to ask until she's pregnant again (years from now). However, it did show how popular the baby is. Everytime we take him out he is an absolute 'chick magnet'. It's even more so now that he smiles back at people. We decided there is only one way to handle this. Since jordan is treated like a rock star, we are taking him out on tour.

I am pleased to announce the "Party Pooper'' tour of 2008! This weekend we are going to Chicago to visit his mother's side of the family. In mid August we are going to New York to visit my side of the family. In October we are going to Atlanta to visit friends, and at Xmas we are going to Baltimore for the holidays. Get your tickets now! For the low cost of a diaper change you get to hold the baby for 15 minutes. For burping the baby you get your shirt personally 'signed' by Jordan. For agreeing to babysit the baby for 2 hours, you get to play with the baby for two hours! You can't beat these prices! I must warn the groupies that he isn' so much interested in your breasts as much as what is in your breasts.