Hanging with Grandma

You'd think my mom had never seen a baby before, seeing the way Hannah has reduced her to a driveling fawner. You might then wonder just how unsightly me and my siblings must have been as infants, the way she carries on about about how beautiful Hannah is. I admit I think Hannah's pretty darn cute, but she's the first baby I've paid much attention to, and I'm assuming my opinion is clouded with bias. But, since Mom's been cooking dinner, folding clothes, doing dishes, changing diapers, and taking the occasional feeding, I'll keep my thoughts to myself for now. Or maybe I'll post them on a public blog that my Mom checks several times a day.

Anyway, Mom hates seeing pictures of herself, but I caught her with both hands full so she couldn't hide behind them this time.

Pulmonologist (Lung Doctor)

Hannah visited the lung doctor today. No big surprises, but he said we can probably stop one of the breathing treatments as long as she's not having any wheezing attacks. We're probably still looking at another month or more on the oxygen, but we sort of expected that.

Hannah got a visit yesterday from some charter members of Team Hannah. Eliot, Chris, Amy, and Alex Johnson (left to right) have been praying hard and lending support since day one, and we've been looking forward to this get-together. Too bad Hannah slept through the whole thing. I offered to wake her up with the ice-cube-on-the-leg trick, but everybody but me seems to think that's cruel or something.


And of course I'm still annoying Carla and Hannah with the camera. Remember that for every picture you see on the blog, I've probably taken a dozen more that either didn't make the cut or are intended for the archives.

Grandparents Galore

All of Hannah's grandparents drove into town today. This is the first time my mom has seen Hannah since she came home from the NICU, and I'm not so sure we'll ever get her to leave. They came bearing gifts from lots of Hannah's friends in Shreveport and Bossier . . . again we're overwhelmed by the kindness. Books, clothes, blankets, toys. This child will never be bored, cold, or badly dressed, I can promise you that.

Below is a matching cap and blanket from Aunt Rena.

Thanksgiving

Hannah's first Thanksgiving took place in the most appropriate surroundings I can imagine. Because of work schedules, our family is actually celebrating Thanksgiving a couple days late, on Saturday. So today we went up to the NICU and spent Thanksgiving with some other preemie parents whose babies are still in the NICU. It was great to see some of the people we got close to during our stay and check on the progress of their babies, and one of Hannah's favorite doctors was there carving turkey, along with his own preemie daughter (now four) and his wife.

The amazing thing was that this whole meal, which served a couple dozen folks in style, was mostly provided and set up by a couple whose little boy is still in the NICU (he's doing well and will probably be home for Christmas), for the other parents that would otherwise be hanging around the NICU today anyway. Considering our own state of mind while Hannah was still in the hospital, and the logistical challenges of feeding even a dozen people, the fact that Sean and Chelle took the time to do this for their fellow NICU parents makes them heroes in my book. These are the same folks that gave Hannah a customized photo frame on the day she left the NICU (see below). They run a company that produces unique hand-made accessories and decorations for children's rooms.


We all had a great time and great food. Carla made her pumpkin-fluff mini-pies. We met some parents that are relatively new to the NICU, at the point we were three months ago, and I hope that seeing Hannah plump and sleeping peacefully gave them some reassurance that their children, too, in time, will go home happy and healthy.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving as well, and that all the things for which you gave thanks continue to flow through your lives and into the lives of those around you.

How's Hazie?

A couple people have asked how Hazie (the dog) is adjusting to the new world order. You might remember from a previous post that Hazie can't be trusted around children and has been sequestered to the den. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to mind at all, as long as we go out to the den and play several times a day. Playtime involves running the RC truck or laser pointer so she can chase them around . . . that's her job.

She has also, now that she spends most of her days in the den with a view into the back yard through the french doors, appointed herself sheriff of the back yard, and barks her fool head off every time she sees a squirrel or cat out there. She has always done this, but before now she didn't really realize that there are pretty much always squirrels or cats in the back yard, and probably assumed they only showed up when she went outside. She has a dog door, so she could enforce the law if she wanted to. But she is mostly content sticking her head out the dog door and barking until the offender departs or I tell her to shut up.

It's also amazing that we can now vacuum the entire house without having to empty dog hair out of the vacuum cleaner after each room. Of course, when I vacuum the den, I get enough dog hair to stuff a pillow.

Anyway, Hannah is doing great, up to 7 lbs 6 oz. She kept us awake crying last night (that is, she was crying, we were awake) for the first time. Normally she fidgets and gurgles during the night but not enough to keep us awake. We suspect she was just hungry, so we're going to increase the size of her meals a little.

Octuplets

Nothing new to report today. Just a photo of the babies (click to zoom).


In answer to your first question, yes, those are all Hannah. In answer to your second question, Photoshop. As for the third question, no, that's not a real tiger skin. But it's a pretty cool facsimile, huh?

Hannah Macarena

I suppose I'll have to start considering the fine line between using your child as a photographic prop and child abuse. But I probably have a few years before Hannah will be able to go online and be horrified at what I've done.

Here is exhibit A:



Exhibit B should be ready tomorrow.

Hannah's Big Night Out

Partly to see how well it would work, and partly because Carla had a craving for chicken-fried steak, we loaded up and headed to the Black-eyed Pea for dinner. Hannah slept the entire time, of course. We went fairly early to avoid the crowds, but still obsessed about surfaces that could harbor RSV and anyone that got close enough to sneeze in Hannah's face. Neither was an issue.

We've gotten the carrier, oxygen tank, and monitor routine down . . . all we have to be careful of is that we have a bottle of Purell and twice as much oxygen as we think we'll need. And that I don't trip over the tubes and wires if there's no video camera around to make it Youtubeable.

This was a good exercise to prove to ourselves that we aren't really prisoners in our own house. It may still be house arrest, but at least we have restaurant visitation rights.

Breathing Easier

For the first two weeks Hannah was home, we frequently had to tweak her oxygen up from .25 liters to .35 or .40, to keep her saturation levels above 90%. Yesterday, she went all day at .25 liters. This could be a sign that she's becoming less dependent on the supplemental oxygen. Once she can go for several days with saturations above 95% at .25 liters, she may be ready to come off the oxygen. Of course, the pulmonologist will be the one to make that decision.

For those of you with broadband access, click here to see a quick video (7MB) of Hannah looking bored but alert. For those without high-speed internet, here's a photo to tide you over.

Seven Pounds

Actually, 7 lbs 1 oz. Not much else to report. Hannah went in for her weekly checkup at the pediatrician, and the doctor and nurses were very pleased with her growth and alertness. Unfortunately, they showed Hannah their appreciation by sticking her with four needles all at once. These were her second round of vaccinations, and they figure that if she has to be uncomfortable, they might as well get it over with quickly. So two nurses stand on either side and each do two injections in Hannah's legs, while I hold Hannah's arms and watch her turn beet red and exercise her lungs.

Eye Test

We took Hannah in for a scheduled eye exam today and learned that her retinas are developing as expected. She may still have vision problems (many preemies do), but she has managed to avoid the more severe retinopathy of prematurity (ROP) that is common in 24.5-week infants.

The eye test was not a pretty sight. Carla chose not to watch at all. Hannah chose not to be present at the proceedings, but lacked the mobility to act on that decision. While we were still in the waiting room, the assistant came out to put drops in Hannah's eyes to dilate them (open up the pupils). Since infants can't be asked to hold their eyes open and look at the light, a tiny metal retractor was used to hold her eyelids apart, and another to hold the eye still. This took only a few seconds for each eye, while the doctor glimpsed in with a pair of goggles and a handheld magnifier, but Hannah screamed like a banshee throughout, much like any of us would if someone held us down and put things in our eyes.

Fortunately, the attention span of infants is limited, and she forgot all about this experience within seconds of it being over.

What's Missing Here?

I had to change out Hannah's nasal cannula tonight and I remembered to take a picture of her without that thing on her face. The red spot near her ear is where the adhesive patch was. I move it around slightly each time I change the cannula to give her skin some exposure, although the patch is designed to breathe and not irritate her skin.

You may have noticed that Hannah has red mark down the middle of her forehead and on her left eyelid. They call this a "stork bite" (or "angel's kiss", "salmon patch", or if you want to sound smart but fail completely to communicate, "telangiectatic naevus") and it generally goes away within the first year. I don't remember seeing any storks or salmon in the delivery room, but I'm fairly certain there were a few angels. And given how well they've taken care of Hannah so far, I'll forgive the overzealous osculation.

Two Weeks at Home!

Several of you have asked what you can get for Hannah, or what you can do for her. As I sit and watch her, I can certainly understand the desire to do something for this wonderful little bundle of potential. But most of her material needs are taken care of, and she doesn't yet have an appreciation of the finer things in life. So I've create a list of the things she really needs from all of us:

• Buckle your seat belt.
• Get a yearly physical.
• Don't tailgate.
• Don't smoke.
• Drive at the speed of the rest of the traffic.
• Skip the french fries.
• Don't trust other drivers to signal before changing lanes.
• Don't stress over the small stuff.
• Don't use your cell phone in traffic.
  
• Let others help you when you need it.

Why? Because all of you, her friends and family, are what she needs most, and I really want to be able to introduce her to you one day. Can't do that if you're not around.

Anyway, today marks the end of the second week that Hannah has been home with us, and we couldn't be happier. We could, perhaps, be a little more rested, but that can wait til she's in college, I suppose. However, we've proven that we can keep her fed, dry, and reasonably happy without tearing our own hair out, so it's time to open the doors to visitors, if anyone is interested.

Because this is RSV season (a variety of the common cold that can be fatal to preemies), we'll ask anyone who has a cold or who has been around someone with a cold to postpone their visit. And everyone will need to wash their hands upon arrival. And the doctors recommend avoiding any non-family members under the age of 12 (children are more likely to have this particular strain of cold without even knowing it). With those disclaimers, we'd love to see you and introduce Hannah. I'll be back at work next week, so evenings after 6:30 or weekends would probably work best. Just give us a call or email to let us know when you'll drop by.

Chemistry Set

Hannah now has seven medications: two inhaled and five in her milk (not all at the same time). I suppose the formula we add to the milk to fortify it might count as an eighth. In any case, one corner of the kitchen now looks like an evil scientist's lab, with vials, bottles, syringes, and graduated mixing containers. I spend a half hour each night preparing the next 24 hours of milk and dosing the overnight feeds so we don't have to wake up and do math in the middle of the night. Distinguishing between 1.1 ml and .1 ml can seem like advanced calculus at 3am.

Hannah got a bath tonight, and unlike last time, seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps she enjoyed it a little too much, since we had to do a quick water change mid-bath after noticing a sudden marked degradation in water purity. I suppose there will be time later to teach Hannah that it is counter-productive to poop in one's bath water. And a significant social blunder if one happens to be in a friend's hot-tub.

Ahh . . . the joys of parenthood.

Another Ride in the Car

We were sitting around yesterday thinking "You know, what we need is one more piece of medical equipment for Hannah to play with. All her other toys are so bright and cheerful and soft and fresh-smelling . . . how about something that we can plug into the wall that will hiss and hum and blow smelly chemicals up her nose!"

Coincidentally, today's trip to the pediatrician happened to intersect with one of Hannah's relatively rare grunt-and-snort episodes, where she breathes like a hyperactive piglet, and it was decided that she might benefit from a Nebulizer. This is not, as I first guessed, a machine that creates impressive clouds of interstellar gas and dust in the safety of your own home, but rather a device more like what I described above. It atomizes medications and blows them up Hannah's nose, so she can breath a bit more effectively. She doesn't seem to mind it, probably because she got these treatments often at the NICU. The medications are a bronchodilator (latin for "bull expander") and a steroid.

Hannah is doing great and getting more alert and interactive every day. She's also expressed a desire for slightly bigger meals, so we'll ask the doctor tomorrow if that's OK.

Here's a picture to remind us how far we've come. Life is good.

Back to Work

Hannah is now 6 and 1/2 pounds. We took her back to the hospital yesterday for some routine blood tests. She slept the whole time, except the part where they poked her in the heel and drew some blood, of course. We're getting used to changing the nasal cannula (it gets blocked with snot after a few days), swapping the pulse oximeter probe from foot to foot (it can cause irritation and deformity if left on the same toe all the time), and threading her clothes over the air tube and wires any time she needs a change of outfit (once per spit-up).

We've adjusted the routine so I can get in a half-day of work each day this week, from home. Unfortunately for Carla, this means she's doing the bulk of the diaper/bottle duty. We were splitting it 50/50. I usually pre-measure all the bottles for the nighttime/morning feeds, and add the medicine to each, before going to bed so Carla doesn't have to do all that measuring and mixing while half-asleep. We envy parents that ONLY have to change and feed their baby during the night, without the hoses, wires, and five medicines. :-)

Carla's parents left yesterday morning after a good visit. Here's a picture of the cool tiger-skin rug they brought (among a cartload of other stuff) for Hannah.

One Week at Home

Doesn't seem that long, but Hannah has been home a week now. Not much new to report, but we're all doing great.

Yawn

Those of you with children already know why I haven't updated the blog in a couple days. There just don't seem to be enough hours in the day. It didn't help that I was sidelined for a while with some sort of intestinal ailment that I am tempted to blame on a bad burrito from Taco Bell. Fortunately, Carla's parents are visiting, so we had a couple extra hands around to help out while I whimpered and whined.

Hannah is doing great. She actually stayed awake a few hours today, so maybe she won't be up for her usual 12am-3am "Hey, where is everybody?" time slot tonight. I should be back to my usual self tomorrow and have a photo or two to share.