Milestones

Posted on September 17, 2012 by ashersmom

Current milestones at our home:

A, Age: 5

Started kindergarten

Didn’t get kicked out of kindergarten. Fingers crossed, 4 weeks in.

Decided of his own volition to start calling me by my first name instead of mommy, which puts me in danger of having an Amber Alert taken out on me. Especially when he screams things in public like, “I don’t wanna go with you, Toulouse. Leave me alone!”

M, Age: somewhere in the 5 1/2 – 8 month range; No, i didn’t steal him from a hospital delivery room – he’s a preemie. Serious preemie.

Sitting up when propped on his hands. Looks like chimp. Darwinists, debate.

Has achieved Olympic levels of sharting. Score 10. Times a day.

No longer has a heart monitor.

Toulouse, Age: are you kidding me?

No longer pees on self when laughing. Most of the time.

Wore pair of pre-pregnancy jeans out of house. Barely concealed muffin top.

Drove speed limit today. One way.

G, Age: Younger than me, older than the kids.

Is up to listening to 17% of things I say to him that don’t involve the words “sex,” “boob” and “money.”

Big News. Giant. Huge.

Posted on August 27, 2012 by ashersmom

For 4 1/2 months, I’ve had what almost qualifies as an extra appendage.

It’s this big blue contraption.

One end was velcro’d securely around my baby’s chest and the other — the apnea monitor — was slung over my shoulder.

Along with my baby bag.

My purse.

And the infant car seat carrier containing said infant.

Even when I just wanted to carry Meyer around the house in my arms, this machinery was slung over my shoulder.

Asher even learned to carry it around the house for me when we moved from one room to another.

And oh, the beeping.

The horrid, heinously, obnoxiously loud beeping when it alarmed, which at one point was up to 50 times a day (and night).

It got so bad that I was like a cartoon roadrunner whenever anything in my house beeped.

The dryer finishing a load?

The coffee-maker turning off?

A timer?

My legs took off before I did.

And I was always standing in front of the baby, giving him a little shake to make sure he was breathing properly, before I realized it was just the dishwasher ending its cycle.

Or one of Asher’s toys.

Or a low battery on a fire alarm.

You have no idea how many things in your house beep until that sound can indicate your baby might not be breathing.

But now, in an indication of how well our little preemie is doing, the apnea monitor is no more.

After reading his latest results, our pediatrician cleared us to send this big blue hunk of beeping electronics back from whence it came.

Meyer has been breathing totally normally since June 26.

Not one episode since then.

And 2 months free of episodes means freedom from the apnea monitor.

We are free.

I can now pick my baby up and just haul his fat little ass around the house in my arms.

When I need to go somewhere, I can just be the usual kind of pack mule every mother of a baby is.

Instead of the kind that has a curious, beeping blue box slung over her shoulder.

It’s big news around the Fleet house.

Giant.

Huge.

Between the sudden, successful starting of the kindergarten, the baby rolling over for the first time one week ago, and the end of the apnea monitor, it feels like a sea change around here.

And it’s so welcome.

It’s been a long, long 7 months.

We still having a feeding tube to get rid of.

But we’re starting to see the proverbial light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

And today’s news confirms that things are heading in the right direction.

Big, big news.

Giant.

Huge.

Premature Elation

Posted on April 4, 2012 by ashersmom

Unless you or a close family member or friend have ever had a baby decide to come into this world really, really early, you probably have no idea what the preemie world is like.

That was me a few months ago.

My first son was born full-term without incident.

This one, not so much.

The best way I can describe the process of getting a preemie ready for the world is 2 steps forward, 1 1/2 steps back.

One day, you step into the NICU to see your babe’s made some sort of progress, like, say, he’s taken his bottle just fine, coordinating his suck, swallow, breathe reflex perfectly. This goes on for 2 or 3 days, and then for no discernible reason, he forgets how to do it and goes back to forgetting to breathe.

Which is a pretty important part of the process.

Not to mention, living.

This is just one small example of the roller-coaster preemie world. You honestly never know what you’re gonna get when you stroll into the NICU each day.

It’s up. It’s down.

It’s forward. Then back.

Last week, Meyer had 4 or 5 days of mind-blowing progress, and since he’s getting close to full term, I thought we were days away from the elimination of all problems and baby coming home.

I was elated.

But I am a slow-learner, it seems.

Somehow I had not gleaned from all of our previous episodes of progress then steps back that the same thing could happen again.

And it did.

Nevertheless, the doctor says he is almost ready to come home.

We may bring him home with some of the equipment he seems to have become permanently attached to, like his heart monitor and maybe his feeding tube, but at least he’ll be home.

And all of that stuff will be temporary.

It’s been quite a ride, and we’re physically and emotionally exhausted.

But honestly, we’re lucky.

When you spend every day at a children’s hospital, where you can overhear the problems other babies are having, it will rearrange your perspective really fast.

Trust me. Someone always has it worse than you. Some of them much, much worse.

So today, I count my blessings.

My baby’s gonna be okay.