A Year In The Making.

A year ago, we conceived, and this blog began.

I still can't believe it some days.  I look at our son and marvel that he's really here, he's ours, and we get to keep him.

It's funny, because I barely remember morning sickness, or not being able to breathe, or any of the misery of pregnancy.  I do remember the sense of awe and serenity every time I felt him move.  I vaguely recall, but without any visceral reactions, the fear of losing him. I know there were nights Ivan had to reassure me that everything would be okay, but I don't remember them nearly as clearly as I remember the sense of anticipation, the feeling that we were in our own little club of two and that we had a secret.

It all seems so long ago and kind of unreal.  I look at the ultrasound pictures and think... wow, can that really be our son?

 

 It is.  It's him, and our life is new and everything has changed.  I am not the same person I was a year ago.  None of us are.  The girls dote on their little brother and make time to spend time with him.  We've talked more, laughed more, cried less.  Ivan is more patient, happier, more driven to not just succeed, but to excel.

With him, we are really a family.  Finally, we feel complete.


Milestones

Ivan now reaches for people as well as for things (like, toys or, just as an example, dog tails and ears).  It melted my heart when Kate was holding him and he reached for me.

He's sitting up with support so well now that Ivan has to keep telling me he's too little for a high chair.

His scooting is getting more productive, but he's still not rolling over.

He's consistently sleeping 7 hours at a stretch every night.  Naps are still inconsistent and infrequent, but twice now he's played in his bouncy chair while I took a shower.  Still doesn't like me checking email or typing while he's awake, though, and he still needs to be rocked to sleep for naps.

Smiles and belly laughs are commonplace, but we all still treat them like the priceless treasures they are.

Three Months And All Is Well.

I could stare at him like this all morning.  So could Ivan, Sr., which makes it tough for him to get out the door to work.  Luckily, my work IS the little prince.  I can't even begin to express how grateful I am that we planned for and were able to have me stay home with him, particularly in light of his checkered medical history to date.

It occurs to me that I spend so much time documenting said medical history that I don't get to write much about the normal baby stuff.  Let's see...

He has discovered his hands and opposable thumb.  This is good, because he can now grab everything (okay, sometimes this is good) with an adult grip... and bad, because his favorite use of his thumb is as a binky replacement.  However, anything that can go in his mouth will, like... the blanky:

the fist:

the towel:

this too:

and you can tell he's seriously plotting how to eat this:

He does not babble yet, but he does talk to his toys:

especially if there's a chance they'll talk back:

He also yells at me with really awesome subvocalization when I don't get him out of his crib fast enough.  It sounds much like a Siamese talking; all, "mwow wom ma maow!"  I will confess I've delayed the rescue just to hear him talk.

He doesn't roll over, but he does scoot, turning himself 90 degrees to get to a toy or a dog's tail unwisely left in reach.  He has good neck and upper arm strength and stands very nicely.  This has allowed me to purchase a babysitter!

No, not Kate... she's free. 

No, not the dog.  The exersaucer!

He's still too little for the jumparoo that Cousin Bruce and Nancy sent, so I got a stopgap... and he loves it:

And it has a lion puppet that is the coolest thing since sliced bread:

The piano toy has three modes - animal sounds, music, and the names of the colors of the keys (red, yellow, and green) in English, Spanish, and French.  A multilingual baby.  He loves, loves, loves it.  It has three height adjustments, so my fervent hope is that we will get much use of it before it's time to move to the jumparoo (which I can't WAIT to see him enjoy).

So big sisters are still cooler than the exersaucer:

And Daddy is still his favorite chew toy:

And I still get lots of these:

And Savannah has all the best pictures of her and the little prince, so I'll have to grab some from her later.  For now, I will leave you with a serious bit of advice:

Food and toys may come and go, but you can chew on fingers forever.

Twelve Weeks and Surgery, Ivan-style.

Beaming up the away team.


So, with Ivan's fistulotomy surgery scheduled for Tuesday the 6th., on Monday the 5th, he decided to get creative again.

As I was changing his diaper, I noticed what looked like a third testicle up higher than the typical pair.  Dr. Bhatia had previously warned us that he might have a hernia at some point, since his inguinal canal had not closed fully (and I cannot for the life of me recall the name of the opening of that canal).  Nothing to be concerned about, as this happens to thousands upon thousands of baby boys across the demographic - as have all of his issues so far.  But still, it would need repair. 

Luckily, we knew a surgeon.

So, Tuesday morning we head out:

This is at 5 AM.  None of us are awake.  Which is good, because I wasn't allowed to feed him after 3 AM... and we both slept through it.  So the kiddo was pretty hungry by the time we got to the hospital.

Fortunately, we got checked in and had him in his hospital gown by 8 AM:

His vitals were:  15 pounds and 25 inches... yes, he grew that much in two weeks.  Crazy.  But it's very reassuring to know he's getting enough nutrition from nursing and is flourishing in spite of the creative things he does.

Dr. Bhatia came in and confirmed that we would indeed be having three surgeries instead of one - she would drain the hydrocele that formed (the lump I felt), correct the hernia, and then perform a double fistulotomy.  Easy peasy, we'd be done by 10 AM.

And so we were:

And he was awake and flirting with my friend Dee (our chauffeur for the afternoon) by 11:

So, we are finally off the antibiotics...
Finally have all surgeries completed...
Are still healing three incision sites...
And sadly, we have toxic poo.  I had to take him back to Dr. Bhatia to find out why his incision sites on his bottom were looking so inflamed.  I was very worried that his right side had become infected.  She said his site looked very nice and clean, although it wasn't healing as fast as she'd like, but that his poo was "toxic." This made me giggle on the inside, particularly after Ivan showed his displeasure at her examination by trying to coat her in it.

Anyway, she took a sample and is doing a culture, and we should know something back soon.  In the meantime, it hurts our little guy to have movements, but he seems to forget about it shortly after, so all is well.

I say that cautiously.  But he's beautiful regardless.

Ten-ish Weeks.

I will have to make this a quick update, since the native is restless.  He has definitely decided to boycott naps during the day, although he usually sleeps very well at night, so I can't complain.  We normally start his evening routine with his bath, massage, and jammies around 8ish, his vitamin bottle around 8:30p, and then up to the darkened room for his final feed and Chopin.  He's usually out by 9:30p and waking up around 5:30a. 

However, it's deuced difficult to get anything done during the day with a baby who only falls asleep after being fed, and wakes up immediately, alert and cheerful, when I go to put him in his crib or cradle (or even if I just hold really still for 15 minutes or longer).  And I would love to go to bed when he does and get 8 hours' sleep, but I have to finish up all the stuff I can't get done during the day because he hasn't taken a nap.

The good news is he's getting to a point where I can sit him in his chair or put him on his back on his play mat and he'll entertain himself for a bit.  The bad news is that it's normally not long enough to do any writing.

Last night we heard his first belly laugh, as Ivan Sr bounced him - while the prince was lying on our bed, Ivan would pound the mattress, and get the biggest smiles... and a couple real, honest-to-goodness laughs instead of his usual giggles.

He has also discovered my face with his hands as he is nursing, which is very cool... he reaches up to play with my lips, and it makes me giggle, which makes him smile, which makes him dribble milk everywhere, but who cares?  I have spitup on every surface of my body by the end of the day and none of my clothes are exempt.  He somehow deliberately (I swear) misses all bibs and burp cloths.  His ability manifests in direct proportion to the expense of the outfit.

Other things he has discovered:

toys... still working on grabbing them, but eating them is no problem

although his hands will do too.  Oh, and football:

Germany v. England. 

The Stats, and Not As Fun News

We had his two-month well baby visit on Wednesday last (yes, he was 10 weeks, there was an appointment mixup and it's a long story), where he weighed in at 13 pounds 11 ounces and was 24 and a quarter inches long.  He's gaining nicely for a post-surgery baby and has hit all his milestones plus a couple (which at this age means not much except delighted parents who are convinced he is a genius).

Unfortunately, both his cysts were present and active, and it appears they are indicative of a fistula.  Dr. Wilson advised me to bring them up to Dr. Bhatia, Ivan's surgeon, when we had our surgery follow-up on Friday. 

Dr. Bhatia confirmed that it is indeed a fistula, and we will need to operate on it on the 6th.  It's not responding to antibiotic therapy nor to draining the abscesses (the cysts), so a fistulotomy is required.

Poor kid.  Dr. Wilson said he was just being creative, like her son.  I would like him to be a bit less creative, and a bit more boring, thank you very much.

Or... this works too.

Two Months and a Day.

Makes me all gooshy inside.

And so our friend the right-hand cyst has arrived... finally, the other bump on Ivan Jr's bum came to the surface and, with a vengeance, grew to epic proportion.  So I called his pediatrician practice, Zaman Pediatrics, and "met" Dr. Zaman for the first time over the phone an hour later.  She had his record in hand and agreed that putting him back on the Bactrim, with Bactroban topically applied, and plenty of hot compresses would do the trick.  She called the prescription in to the pharmacy and Kate, who was visiting at the time, picked it up for me.

So easy, so hassle-free, and so fast.  I love our pediatricians. 

We still don't love Bactrim - the taste or the effect.  I won't go into details, but I'm about to take a friend's suggestion and add Culturelle to his 2 oz bottle that he gets every night.  All the stuff he hates covered up by Similac.  It's almost like a baby cocktail - 1 teaspoon gripe water, 1 ml Poly-Vi-Sol, 3/4 teaspoon Bactrim, fill with water to 2 oz, add one scoop formula, and shake well.  Strain and serve with a paper umbrella. 

The good news is that with the hot compresses and prompt attention, Mr. Cyst is already exiting the building with no fanfare and much relief.

Why, yes - most of my pictures ARE of the Ivans.  Because I control the camera.  But I loved this shot of my bamboo that I've managed to keep alive for a couple years, now.  That's some kind of a record for me.

I can't wait until the 23rd - our next appointment - to get Ivan Jr's official weight and length.  I measured him at 15+ pounds (couldn't figure out the ounces on an analog scale) at 7 weeks, but I can't get him straightened out to measure his length.  I'm pretty sure he's at least 2 feet long now and likely 16 pounds or more.

And just because I know grandparents read this blog, here's more picture goodness:

Although I won't lie, this shot is the one that makes me giggle:

BUBBULZ!!!  Now admit it, you smiled.

So, lessee... milestones...

He is holding his head up almost all the time, now, so that when he does the flop forward and butts me in the mouth, splitting my lip, it always surprises me.

He's sleeping mostly through the night, most nights.  He does his final feeding of the eve at 10:30ish and sleeps til 6ish.  Last night he was out by 10p and up at 5:30a.  I can handle that routine.  We took Savannah to work this morning at 8ish and he napped the whole way.

He scoots when he is on his tummy, and although he hasn't figured out the knees yet, he wants to crawl big time.

He smiles, giggles rarely and unexpectedly, and occasionally talks to us.

He still hates naps.

He doesn't mind tummy time, though.  And he loves him some airplane and space baby time with Daddy.

His laparoscopy scars are healing nicely:

I can still feel the scar tissue underneath the healed skin, but as he gets bigger, they will get smaller.  We have a follow-up appointment with the surgical clinic on the 25th.  He should be happy to see more doctors, since his 2 months' checkup and vaccinations are that Wednesday.  Busy week for mama and son.

I will leave you with more baby goodness, and hopefully now that I've figured out how to get the kid to zonk for an hour (the swing is magic), future updates will be more regular.

All Quiet On The Grayson Front.

There is a serenity in a sleeping baby that makes me want to sit and watch him dream... but this is the first time in weeks that he's slept well enough during the day that I feel safe to write, so reluctantly I turn away and pound on the keyboard. 

I'm so in love.  Ivan Jr has his own personality and it's a very nice one, I think.  He only cries when something is wrong, and it's up to me to figure out what it is - usually his diaper.  But!  Recently he was very fussy in the early evening hours until midnight or so, and I thought it was just a phase we would have to work through - after the last few weeks of worry, and upon thinking of Kate's colic, I felt lucky.  Then I noticed he was sleeping so fitfully during the day that his eyes were red by the time 11 PM rolled around.  So this week I started putting him to bed right after his last feeding.  And now... we have a happy baby all day long!  He sleeps better during the day when he sleeps better at night.  Amazing how that works. 

And it's amazing how much better I feel today after almost 7 hours - my arthritis is mild and my head doesn't hurt.  My knees and ankles feel like they belong to a woman two-thirds my age.

More milestones...

He's smiling when he sees us, when we are particularly entertaining, and sometimes for no reason whatsoever.  He loves to look at Baby Art and his mobile toys.  He likes his floor mat but isn't so thrilled about tummy time - unless we put our hands behind his feet and let him scoot across the floor.  And he can scoot!  He has started cooing and gurgling, although we do not have conversations yet; just one noise here and there mostly.  He has a definite angry face, and I feel ashamed every time I laugh delightedly at it.  Yes, it is that darned cute.

Did I mention he loves baths with Mommy?  Seriously.  He'll float on his back with his head resting on my knee (with my hand under his head, no worries) and just look so peaceful as I gently splash water on his tummy.  He loves having his hair stroked.  He loves his fuzzy blue blanky.  He likes being swaddled to sleep, but he only truly feels at peace and ready to conk out when he's worked his right arm out of the swaddle.  It's almost as if he requires that minor victory to feel magnanimous enough to give in to slumber.  Stubborn baby is stubborn.  He gets that from his father.  He is a very serious baby, still, watching the world alertly.  Sometimes he glares at things that are out of reach.  I think he gets that from Daddy, too.

It's almost 8 weeks, so I will update more on Friday, if our routine holds.  For now, I need a baby fix.  I'll try to start taking video soon, and will get more pictures posted soonest.

There And Back Again.

The thrilling conclusion to our eventful year last week.

Parts One and Two are here.

Tuesday Evening
I went back to the ward and waited for what seemed like three days but actually was probably less than 45 minutes.  I barely noticed at first, but when I took a moment to think of something other than self-pity and concern, I saw that Ivan’s crib had been made and warm blankets put at the end.  It felt like coming home after I had him and seeing that the girls had cleaned the house – things were going to be okay.  Thank you, Ayanna.

About ten minutes after I got back, a nurse popped her head in and said, “This is for Ivan Alexander.”

Thank you, Dee and Bryan.  He now has permanent place of honor in Ivan’s bassinet.  What baby doesn’t need a guard dragon?  I should warn you that by the time baby Ivan discovers the “squeeze me” dragon roar voice box, it will have been worn out by Ivan Sr.

Time dragged, and I hovered outside the room so I could see as soon as my son was on the ward.  When they did arrive with him, he was on this huge bed – okay, the bed was grownup-sized, but he looked so tiny in the middle of it – and he was still out.  They wrapped him in about a bazillion of the warm blankets and set him in my arms.  I don’t know what about my demeanor made them think I wouldn’t settle for them putting him in the crib…

Ivan Sr and Opa Peter arrived not too shortly after, and Opa got to see his first grandson for the first time:

And bliss of a sort was had by all.  I sent the guys home for the night (I figured one of us should sleep) and resigned myself to a night of wakefulness and anxiety.

While I had the wakefulness, Ivan Jr did not.  A nurse came in and said, “Has he eaten yet?” And I realized he’d let me sleep for three hours.  The nurse was concerned but to me, this was the best sign that he was recovering.  He did have a good feed and didn’t throw anything up – and that was even better.  I may have leaked a little around the eyes when I woke later and realized he’d kept everything down for the first time in four days.

Wednesday morning

Morning brought a visit from Dr. Riley and plans for Ivan’s discharge – that day!  I was so excited.  While we waited for the paperwork and the last checkup by the 4West department head, our day nurse chatted me up about natural labor and epidurals.  Having become a recent convert to the Church of the Blessed Epidural, I’m not sure I convinced her to go natural.  I did talk to her about transition and how to get through it, and I hope she goes for it – it will mean disproportionately a lot to her because it’s her first, and because she has so many women telling her she can’t.  For me that’s the biggest reason why she should.  Screw the naysayers.
But it’s easy for me to say – it’s her baby and I don’t have to give birth to it.

I also had a visit from the hospital lactation consultant – about halfway through the day Tuesday, I noticed that someone put a note on our door – well, there were two; one said “NO NPO” which means “do not feed this child” – that said “BREASTFEEDING MOM, PLEASE KNOCK.”  And it actually WORKED.  Poor Dr. Riley (our only male doctor) forgot one time and started to walk in and remembered at the last moment and apologized profusely.  I thought it was kinda funny.  I’d been draped the entire time I’d been pumping while Ivan Jr couldn’t nurse, and I was draped now that he was nursing.  And I’d been there for a couple days already, doing this.  But I thought the sign was sweet.

Anyway, the visit went… interestingly.  I couldn’t help but think that it would have been a bit more useful when I was freaking out about my milk supply Monday evening.  I also thought it was kinda funny that she was so concerned about the tiny 2 oz. bottle that we give him at home after his last feeding of the night, which has his vitamins in it – she strongly suggested I get a supplement which could be applied in a single drop dosage to my breast instead.

Really?  He nurses fine, my supply was really going like gangbusters until this hospitalization… am I that threatened by a measly 2 ounces of formula? 

Anyway, she had a trainee with her, and they fussed over me and were so encouraging and complimentary, that I felt I’d taken a blue ribbon at the county fair and no one had told me til now.

By the time they left I was kinda worn out and feeling very, very old.

Wednesday afternoon

We were being discharged!  Hooray!  I wish I’d had the foresight to take a picture of the cute little red wagon nurse Kia brought for us to load up the accumulated crap of a 3.5 day stay – how did we get so much stuff?  Much cooler than the ugly grey cart I used when I brought Ivan Jr home the first time.  Gotta love Children’s. 
Everything about the hospital was so neat.

I’ll have to get more pictures when we go back for Ivan’s follow-up appointment in a few weeks.

So now we’re home, and trying to get things back to “normal-“ which is really funny, because we haven’t had a normal week since he was a month old (I feel like it was more a lull in the action than anything).  I’m worried about my milk supply even though I pumped sporadically (when I could) at the hospital – he’s cluster feeding and at night it’s particularly trying.  Were it not for kellymom,  I may have well given up or felt I wasn’t producing enough.  Time will tell, but he seems to continue to thrive.  His laparoscopic incisions have healed nicely, the surgical glue is gone, and we took a bath together in Mama’s tub last night.  He enjoyed it thoroughly. 

I almost hate to say it out loud for fear of jinxing us, but I think we’re back to good.

Oh, and I have to include this for posterity, and because I feel an unholy glee at the thought of sharing it with his first serious girlfriend:

Now, if that doesn't make you smile, there is no hope.