You’re three months old today. Three. Do you believe that? Your mother and I have somehow managed to not pull our hair out, stay calm, and make you into a happy, smiley, loving little monster boy. These last three months have been the most difficult, trying, patience-searching, amazing, beautiful, loving three months that neither your mother or I have ever experienced. I’m sure your mother will agree: being your father (mother) is by far the greatest thing we’ve ever accomplished and ever will. Nothing can compare, not even our wedding day. Even when you’re being fussy and all I want to do is set you down, I walk past that mirror outside your bedroom and we make eye contact, you smile at me, all my frustrations melt away. You have a special effect on me.
From the moment I told the nurse your name in the delivery room, until this morning, we’ve been having fun and trying to make your adventure as exciting (and safe) as possible. You’re such a strong boy and you’re growing so fast, we constantly want to try new things with you. Mostly your mother tells me not yet, and I say “If it’s not working I’ll stop.” It usually works. I’ve yet to toss you more than two inches in the air, but really looking forward to launching you like 30 feet or something like that. We’ll make sure mommy is not around.
You came out of mommy 6 lbs 12 oz, then shrunk down to 6 lbs, 1 oz, but since then you’ve gotten gigantic! You’ve far outgrown my 11 pound meat scale, and on mommy’s scale we’re pretty sure you’re somewhere around 13.5 pounds now. You’ve doubled. You’re twice and big as you were but you’re still tiny. You grew so fast. You started off a little slow because you came a little early. Being born five weeks early comes with some precautions and we had to make sure you were safe. You spent your first 48 hours in the special needs nursery and were hooked to all kinds of wires and needles. It was scary for your mother and I but we knew it was for the best.
You came out super healthy, strong and fighting; you took that IV needle like a champ, but then you got tired and needed a little oxygen. So for about 6 hours, until you got strong enough, you camped in a little tent that pumped clean air into your lungs (your first camping trip!!). Your little belly and legs weren’t in the tent so we got to touch you still. All your grandparents, Aunt Shannon, and Aunt Katie came and visited you in the nursery. They loved you so much. Aunt Shannon cried she was so happy but she tried to hide it from me. On the third night they unhooked you from all the machines and we got to have you in our hospital room. Alone, with no nurses, no machines, no one telling us what to do. It was scary. You don’t come with a manual. We loved it though. Every little sound you made woke us up. That first night of sleeping for us was rough. Your mommy was in the hospital bed recovering from the surgery, I was on a little pull out couch, and you were in a bassinet right between us. We just laid and watched you (a habit yet to be broken). You are so beautiful. We could (and do) do that for hours.
In the morning, you got a visit from your aunt, uncle, and cousins from Ohio. They were excited, but a little unsure of what to think of a little guy like you. A few hours after that the doctor came in and gave the whole family a clean bill of health and said we can all go home! We were super excited, and super nervous at the same time. A few days later your aunt, uncle, and cousin from Wisconsin came and visited. Your cousin is a little older and he got to hold you, but said “I’m bored” after about 22 seconds (I’ll tell you a secret, that cousin has a sister now, a new cousin born after you – no longer making you the youngest in the family! One notch up on the seniority ladder for you!)
You’ve been a pretty healthy baby and we’ve been very fortunate and grateful for that. But it wasn’t always smooth sailing. You started off pooping a lot. A. Lot. Like every diaper. All of them. If we changed 10 diapers a day, all 10 of them were poopy. I sure got over my fears of poopy diapers quickly. Yours was the very first diaper I’ve ever changed in my life. I wanted to learn on you and boy have I ever! One time you pooped while mommy was changing you and she screamed. I came running in and I was so impressed I ran back out and got the tape measure. You shot poop a distance of 23.75 inches out of your butt! That’s my boy!! (sorry if the tape measure was cold on your butt)
It turns out all that pooping is pretty rough on your little butt. No matter how gentle we were, your little butt kept getting raw and rashy, even little sores on your bottom. It was pretty sad. You screamed a lot when we changed you, and it in turn made the dog scream (after a few days he got used to your screaming and chilled out) which made it pretty stressful for all of us. One night, in the middle of the night, your mommy came and woke me up, in a panic. There was blood in your diaper. Not from your rash, but in the poop – from inside you. That was scary. It wasn’t a ton of blood, but enough.
Your mommy has been sick like that before and she knows what to look for and what it means. We called doc in the morning and he asked us to keep an eye on it to see if it passes. It didn’t, we continued to see a little blood for the entire day. Doc then suggested mommy should avoid dairy and the extra formula we’ve been giving you should be switched to soy. Humans weren’t designed to process cow’s milk but we consume it in mass quantities (we’re an odd animal, the human race is – more on that throughout life). We can handle soy a lot better and that was supposed to fix you all up. We thought it had – it was starting to slow down but then it got worse again. You were crampy and fussy and seemed to be in a lot of pain. I thought it was a pretty evil joke and I was pretty upset. You were this poor little defenseless baby but you were going through so much pain. Your guts hurt. Your butt hurt. There was nothing I could do. I was really scared that your mommy had passed on her sickness to you.
Though rare, mommy’s sickness is possible in newborns (your mommy got it from her mommy, but not until she was a big person in her 20s). I was angry at the world. I didn’t think it was fair. You are my son and you’re not supposed to be uncomfortable. I am your protector and I am supposed to keep you out of harm’s way and prevent you from getting hurt. How am I supposed to do that when it’s happening on your insides?!?!? Doc ordered blood to be drawn for tests to see if you’re sick on the inside. Blood. From your little veins. From a baby that weight less than seven and a half pounds. I knew it was going to be rough. I knew you were going to scream. I had to mentally prep myself…..
The techs weren’t able to get into your veins. Your veins were too small for them. You screamed and screamed and fought and fought, and cried in bloody murder pain. They tried in each arm all while your mother and I held you and and tried to keep you call. It was 15 minutes of a hellish pain for all three of us. All three of us were in tears and trying to keep ourselves composed. The techs recognized the stress, and said “I think you should go to the children’s hospital and have them try.” We called you down, well, more or less you passed out from the pain, crying, and stress – then we packed you up and walked out of the building.As soon as I got into the parking lot, with you in my hands, and your mother behind me, it hit me: I am absolutely helpless and I cannot protect you. Life was unfair and I’m afraid you’ve been burdened with this disease your mother has, and not only have I had to put you through this horrific traumatic event of having your blood drawn, but it was for naught and we had to do it a second time.
It didn’t make me sad, it hurt me. I started to weep as we walked. I loaded in your car seat, sat down in the driver seat, and lost it. I cried harder than when you were born. That was a happy/nervous cry then. This was a cry that I had never experienced before (part of being a parent?). I moaned and cried in agony that I’m sure could be heard from a few cars away. My head was dropped, face in my hands, shoulders shuddering and bouncing, snot running (always snot), tears dripping from my hands making a wet spot on my lap. I did that for about five minutes, then I grabbed your mother sitting next to me, squeezed her in a huge hug, and proceeded to soak her shoulder as well. I was crying so hard it hurt. Eventually I pulled myself together, and started the 7 minute drive home. Halfway there I started to think about it again and started crying again. I barely held on enough to safely get us home. I almost had to pull us over for fear of not being able to drive. To make matters worse, two of your mommy’s best friends were coming over for dinner and would probably be there within 5 minutes of us getting home. I needed to be alone. We walked in the back door, I handed you to mommy, I grabbed the dog leash and dog, and left. Without saying a word. I took DaCoda for one of the farthest walks I think we’ve ever gone. I walked so hard I was practically running. DaCoda loved it. I don’t even know what I was thinking about. But I needed to hash it all out. You’ll learn someday that your dog also provides a calming effect on you. Your dog doesn’t know he’s doing it but, he’s there for you all the time no matter how upset you think you are, not matter how silly you think you are. Your dog will love you forever as long as you love him.
Sometime later I got back home refreshed and somewhat pulled together. Your mommy and her friends were about to eat and we had a nice evening. The next day we went to the children’s hospital and I was much more mentally prepared, and feeling more confident. The tech we had was great, really made us feel calm after we told her the stress we went through the day before. She hunkered down, and attempted to set the needle. I squatted down next to your face to keep you soothed, and watched your arm from a few inches away as blood started to flow into the tube – then stop: just like the day before. She tried a little bit more, then pulled the needle out – then the same process again in the other arm, same failure as the other arm, same as the day before. She couldn’t get the blood either. I was handling it surprisingly better today; though an elevated stress, I kept it together. We were at the children’s hospital, they would have a solution. You are not the only baby to ever need to have blood drawn.
The tech sat and contemplated what to do next, “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta make a phone call,” she said. A few minutes later she came back with news that she got permission for an alternative, fairly archaic method: a heel scrape. She poked a hole in your heel (you barely felt it) and proceeded to squeeze and squeeze your heel until she had all the blood she needed, plus a little extra. It worked! A few days later we went back in for the test results and the doctors gave you a clean bill of health – you did NOT have mommy’s sickness. For that we were grateful. Right around that same time, your little butt took a dramatic turn – for the better! You went from 10 poops a day, to 1 poop every 48 hours! Your rash cleared up making changes easier (and happier for you) and the blood disappeared from your insides! Turns out the issues were a combination of a few things: One was in fact a cow’s milk allergy that needed some time to clear up, and secondly your little premature body was still learning how to use your digestive system and needed a little catch up. Doc assured us that pooping that infrequently was normal and healthy.
Life was now sooooooo much better for your mommy and me (and you!). That had been a pretty stressful time for her and I. Looking back it taught me a lot about the stresses of parenting, how fragile you really are, and really made me stronger. I know I can’t do it all myself and I need to rely on others for help. I don’t have all the answers. I never will. I can try and do my best, but no matter how much research we do, there will always be things that we just can’t get the answers to. Meanwhile, you fart a lot. And when you do have to poop, you let us know by making these really low grunting sounds for about three second bursts. You never do that on farts, only poops.
Since then you’ve been nothing but a healthy happy little boy and we’ve been having so much fun learning and growing with you. You may actually think my camera is an extension of me. I’ve taken millions of photos of you! At eight weeks your mommy went back to work and it’s been just you and I during the day, reading books and taking walks (and lots of naps). At around 10 weeks you’ve started to smile all the time and almost on cue. At 11 weeks you started to sleep through the night – probably the best advancement yet! At 12 weeks you started to smile when you see our faces poke over the crib and into your view. That makes mornings so much fun. You’re 13 weeks yesterday, three months today. You had your first Halloween three days ago. We’ve always called you a little peanut, so I had an idea to make you a Planter’s “Mr. Peanut” costume – well, I didn’t make it, but your Nona did. She did a pretty good job and it kept you warm on your big trick or treating adventure to two houses. We’ve been noticing you using your left hand way more than your right. You suck on your left hand, and you grab with your left hand. That’s great because your mommy and I are both lefties and it will make teaching you things so much easier (mommy will teach you to tie shoes – I still have to do the bunny-ears technique). We still can’t tell what color your eyes will end up. They’re still a little steely blue, with hints of green, maybe hazel too. Either way, you have beautiful eyes. You will be a lady killer.
We’ve taken you all over the state to see so many great people. You met Great Grand Father Joe at a wedding in Sterling Heights, he was pretty excited for all of us. You met your Great Grand Father Jack, who we named you after, in Flint. He said you’re going to grow up and be tough with a name like that (he was a professional boxer, he knows what he’s talking about (more stories about him later)). You’ve watched a U of M football game with your Granddad in Williamston, he even let you sit in his chair with him; a rare occurrence. You met a lot of daddy’s college friends at the “annual” cookout where we honor a fallen friend (That was actually our first trip out of the house with you. You pooped all over our friends bathroom floor and rug!). We took you Artprizing almost everyday it was going on (and you sat through a live television audience without making a peep). People kept asking if they could vote for you. You’re pretty cute. We took you to an October Grand Valley State Football game and even tailgated before the game. That was fun. You watched a little bit of fireworks on Labor Day from the beach at Grandpa’s cottage on Old Mission – but not before you two fell asleep listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees and the boats in the lake (and not before I dipped your toes in the water). You and I have hit all the major antique malls in the Grand Rapids area. It sounds boring, but it’s actually quite fun – I’ve even taken you to an estate sale and a Craig’s List run. At the estate sale people kept asking if you were for sale. No way Jose! Last week we took you to visit our friends in Ludington. A one-eyed cockatiel named ‘Captain crawled on your arm!! You and the parrot were a little confused. After that we took you to the beach to see beautiful Lake Michigan. No visit complete without a walk on the beach – when we got down there you were honored with a treat: the historic coal steamship the S.S. Badger was returning to port, maybe one of it’s last runs ever. It’s the last of its kind and it’s fighting to stay in operation.Unfortunately we’ve yet to take you to the Upper Peninsula. It’s cold up there. Real cold. I know you can handle it during the day, but I just don’t think you’re ready to sleep in temperatures below the freezing point. Daddy can barely do it and mommy won’t even try! Sadly, camping will have to wait until the spring (although I’m working on convincing your mommy to rent a room for the weekend in DeTour for a winter getaway. It’s win-win!!). I love taking you grocery shopping with me. You, sir, are a chick magnet!
(sorry ladies, we’re taken!)
Enjoy these pictures from your mommy and I; I wonder if you remember any of those moments?
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