Free at Last

Thank God Almighty, he's free at last!

I was surprised to find his newborn outfit still fit although just barely. With last minute instructions from the neonatologist, hugs from the special care nurses and well-wishes from all the staff on the labor & delivery floor, we headed out of the hospital, this time with a baby in tow.

He wasn't much impressed with the cool breeze and quickly went to sleep.

Matthew was anxious to check out this new person and spent a lot of time trying to poke his eyes, patting his feet and blowing him kisses. Unfortunately we've had to discourage climbing in his bed.

We are anxiously awaiting the return of the other two boys so our family will be altogether.

Negotiating the Release of the Hostage

It's time for this boy to come home.

Doug and I went to visit last night, and he was stretched out while the nurses thumped on his little chest. I realized that we have missed the curled-up-newborn stage during the past two weeks.

He's wide-eyed and alert, taking in all the sights and sounds around him during his waking hours (which I hear are often 4-7 am). He even cooed and smiled.

After some feeding issues yesterday, it was determined that he needed to be fed thickened breastmilk with a tube (pictured above). While his lab work is perfect, the latest x-ray didn't show any improvement, and now the neonatologist is convinced that there is no bacterial infection. The newest theory is that he is aspirating milk during his feeds, and that is causing the lung problems.

The bottom line, however, is that they see no reason to continue antibiotics which means there is no reason for this gargantuan 8 lb., 13 oz. hunk of a boy to stay in the NICU any longer. The plan is for him to be discharged in the morning and to follow up with a swallow test at our local children't hospital in the afternoon. Hopefully the results will tell us definitely whether or not he is aspirating.

Only Child

Matthew's loving his new (but temporary) status. And I'd forgotten how pleasant it can be to have just one child around, especially one who doesn't talk much.



That is, until you say "no more marshmallows" and he falls into a screaming heap on the floor. Oh, the complexity of toddlerhood.

Another Setback

The phone call started like this, "I have some bad news for you...."

While Jonathan's lungs have improved, one side still shows "infiltrates" and the doctor feels that he needs at least a couple more days of treatment which involves antibiotics, sleeping on his left side, and some medical term that means beating him on the chest. He has a 90% chance of coming home Thursday.

It's a frustrating place to be. I'm ten days post-partum with nothing to show for it but a jiggly belly, leaking breasts, and an empty crib. On the other hand, the elderly neonatologist said that if it were his grandchild, he would want him to be treated for a few more days. Who can argue with that?

So we continue to wait and pray.

And pump.

Revised ETD

We had been hoping for Jonathan's discharge papers today, but the neonatologist thought it best to leave him on antibiotics for a few more days to hopefully completely clear his lungs.


So while his x-rays weren't perfect, there was marked improvement, and he is eating and sleeping well (and the nurses have mentioned that his plumbing is working just fine!). It looks like he'll be home Tuesday.

Meanwhile, the Good Knights have been protecting the castle.

It seems a rogue baron came to overthrow the fortress

but he was quickly disarmed, much to his dismay.

I think we'll have to lock him in the dungeon.

At the Hospital

What a sucker! Jonathan got to nurse yesterday and took to it as if he'd never had a bottle in his life.





I really just think he's trying to maintain his sturdy figure and so far his plan is working. He's already back to his birth weight and moving upward.


The doctors are going to run some more labs tomorrow and reassess the situation which hopefully means we will have a discharge date soon.

I can't wait to bring this guy home.

On the Homefront

It's been an interesting week to say the least.

Aside from possibly the first time around, never have I felt so good so shortly after having had a baby. I've had family wait on me hand and foot; I get to take naps; I can escape to pump and read on a regular basis; I can even fudge on pumping at night if I can't quite manage to wake up. It's been nice.

Except for the fact that my baby is in the hospital. In the meantime, I've been enjoying the other boys, something that became increasingly harder the final weeks of pregnancy.

Today we walked to our duck pond and rickety slide, breathing fresh air and soaking in some vitamin D. It felt good.

This was little Jack Horner, only he pulled out some black olives. Probably 20 or so. And just for the record, they are not easily digested.

And finally, his newest trick...sticking a finger in each ear and then repeatedly calling, "Momma? Momma?" What a loon!

A Reluctant Homecoming

This is a sign that you don't want on your hospital room.

About 14 hours after Jonathan was born, the nurses noticed some irregular breathing and whisked him away to the Special Care Nursery. He appears to have an inflammation in his lungs, causing periods of rapid breathing and is currently being treated with 7-day course of IV antibiotics.

I came home yesterday afternoon. It was absolutely wonderful to breathe fresh air after 72 hours inside the hospital and great to see the boys in our house, but it was the saddest feeling to leave empty-handed. The neonatologist and neonatal nurse praticitioner assured me that the first time would be the hardest.

I think they were right.

We returned last night to deliver some milk. Eating was too much work for him and the nurses had opted to feed him with a tube. He was a pitiful sight, but we were so encouraged by the nurses who are taking such good care of him.

The rest was good for him. When we returned this morning, he looked so much better, and even gave me a bit of a smile. He was back to eating from a bottle.

He has to stop often to burp and breathe, but it gives us a chance to check out those adorable cheeks.

And here is a shot of his hair....I can't believe I finally have a baby with hair. I hope it lasts.

While we never imagined any of this happening, we are so thankful for the many nurses and doctors who have surrounded us during the past few days, and we trust that the Great Physician will heal our "little" guy so he can come home.

Baby Hamill is here!

Doug and Julie welcomed a baby BOY last night. Jonathan Douglas was born at 11:15 pm weighing 8 lbs 9 ozs and he was 20 3/4 inches long. Mom and baby are doing well and they are very happy and thankful that Jonathan decided to finally make an appearance.

Henry is Dead

I always thought roaches had to be the nastiest insect (at least of those who tend to invade homes). On more than one occasion during our first year of marriage I called Doug in tears over roaches in our humble abode. I knew I just needed to stomp on them, but I was so afraid of them running up my leg or jumping on me.

Then I met cave (or camel) crickets.

These are definitely nastier as they do indeed jump. They love the dark, dampness of our garage and occasionally one will slip into the basement. Like a it did a couple of weeks ago.

I was rearranging some junk in the closet when one startled me. I'm sure I screamed. But try as I may, the little creature alluded my attempts at squashing. It jumped and hid behind some boxes.

A few days later the scene was repeated with the same ending as before.

I called in my help-meet for assistance, but he didn't fare any better.

Another day it alluded me by blending into our brown-patterned rug.

Then earlier this week Stephen appeared in my room while I was napping to inform me that there was a large spider in the basement (we have been inundated with arachnids lately), but I assured him it was only a cave cricket and he was free to kill it. When I went down to release them from "rest time" I found a pile of blankets, pillows, and toys piled against the door to our garage.

"Oh, what's this pile?" I inquired.

"We built a cave for Henry."

Nice. Instead of killing the enemy, they not only name him but build him a home.

Ever since, I've cautiously stepped downstairs, fearing those spindly legs jumping on me. But tonight, Henry met his Maker.

After soaking in the tub, I noticed the creature had slipped under the bathroom door. In a flash not-known to many 41+ week pregnant ladies, I scooped up the October issue of Country Living and ended that insect's life. I feel no shame; I have no regret.

Henry is dead.

Only wish I could say the same about his numerous relatives.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I remember jokingly telling my sister a few weeks ago that I would be really bitter if I was still pregnant in three weeks and she was holding her babe.

It's been three weeks, and there is still no sign of our little one.

An ultrasound earlier this week showed wonderful levels of fluids, and the posterior position allowed for a good shot of the little one's face. Non-stress tests have also shown the baby is doing well.

But enough is enough. Should this baby not decide to come on his own in the next few days, I will be induced on Monday.

I'm still holding out for contractions to start as I want to avoid an induction at all costs; but considering how long this babe has baked, it's time, and I will gladly don a hospital gown next week.

An Exclusive Membership

Congratulations! You are once again an active member of the OGRE club (Overdue Gestaters who Really want to Evict). This is an exclusive club open to all women who have had the priviledge of being in a state of pregnancy for 41+ weeks.

There are no dues or membership cards as swollen feet, an obvious waddle, and the tell-tale haggard expression on one's face are evidence enough. There are no forms to sign and return as we hope active membership is short-lived. Nevertheless, you will be considered a member for life, able to relate to other mothers of this time-worn (and worn-out) club.

As an added bonus, I am pleased to offer to you a platinum membership. Not only are you a returning member, you now have three small children underfoot.

Kudos to you, dear mother!

Magic & the Liquor Store: A Homeschooling Recipe for Success

Obviously, I'm still pregnant so no need to comment in that department.

With my tired state of mind, I have not been up to planning elaborate lesson plans, exotic recipes and the like. So what does a lazy bum do? Magic! The Magic Schoolbus and Magic Treehouse, of course.

We discovered the latter as rest time entertainment (books on tape) probably a year ago, and the boys have been thrilled with the adventures of the brother/sister team Jack & Annie. What's even better is that there are a gazillion books in the series so there are plenty of places to travel. Ms. Frizzle and her magic schoolbus are equally entertaining science books that the boys love to read over and over and then act out.

I had hoped that Nana would be the teacher this week and was excited to find a book by each author on the subject of knights & castles. Along with a bunch of other books on the subject, we were ready to go.

Well, I'm teacher so far but that's fine 'cause I can sit and read with the best of them (only I struggle to heave myself up to assist the youngest member of the class with his numerous needs). In any case, the boys have had fun.

We spent the morning at the doctor's office which required a stop at the liquor store. Oh, I mean and then we stopped by the liquor store for building supplies. The dividers in wine boxes turned out to be the perfect thing for creating our castle and fortress.

Once it was complete the playacting began with a Winnie-the-Pooh figurine, an assortment of plastic people, and race cars going over the drawbridge. Sherlock Forest and the Hundred Acre Woods meet Radiator Springs.

I have another box in reserve for making shields...that should be exciting.

And what was Matthew doing all the while?

Picking his nose which is in a perpetual state of dripping. Lovely!

I Needed This

It's been one of those days that thankfully improved after naptime. Through a series of convoluted searches on the internet I came across this post to which I could completely relate ("hostile"? me?).

And for an added bonus, the post that followed (or preceded, rather) was absolutely hilarious. The boys kept asking what was so funny, but I just don't think they would (or want them to) understand.

Not Very How

The Old Grey Donkey, Eeyore, stood by himself in a thistly corner of the forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" - and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about. So when Winnie-the-Pooh came stumping along, Eeyore was very glad to be able to stop thinking for a little, in order to say "How do you do?" in a gloomy manner to him.

"And how are you?" said Winnie-the-Pooh.

Eeyore shook his head from side to side.

"Not very how," he said. "I don't seem to have felt at all how for a
long time."

Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne

Gloomy, rainy weather, three energetic boys and one overdue mother make for a sad state of affairs. I'm reaching the end of my rope and hopefully the end of this pregnancy.

Sabbath Rest

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh is a Sabbath of the Lord your God.

We continue to wait.

"Something Fun"

I saw an ad in the paper earlier this week announcing a Fall Festival at our local water treatment plant and knew immediately that it would be a fun outing for the boys.

Of course, I was really hoping that someone else would have to take them since I would be otherwise indisposed, but that was not the case and we had a fun family outing - all 5 and 9/10 of us! Anyhow, we got to tour the facility and ride a trolley.

There were lots of freebies including balloons, MoonPies, hotdogs, cotton candy, water bottles, stickers, candy, leak detection tablets, and notepads.

My kids always avoid the inflatable jumping toys, but Andrew did attempt the water balloon toss and painted his name on a water pipe that will actually be installed underground. Woo-hoo!

I was hoping that the free hotdogs would suffice for lunch, but I guess I should get used to the fact that these menfolk require more sustenance. I was forced to feed them leftovers that were supposed to be for tonight. Doug's simple solution: "We can just have something else for dinner." Easy enough for you to say.

And for the remainder of the day? Doug informs me that there are three major SEC matchups from 12:30 on so I must do my best to hold off on delivering this child until then. Guess I'll take a nap.

More of the Same

Nothing, that is.

Apparently the little one is perfectly content with its situation. Of course, if he/she knows what I know about the siblings, it is wise to stay put as long as possible. What chaos awaits!

Wishin' and Hopin'

Wishin' and hopin' and
Thinkin' and prayin'
Plannin' and dreamin'
Contractions will start
In the daylight or the dark.

So if you lookin' to find news you can share,
All you gotta do
Is wait and wait and wait and wait
And after you wait some more
The baby will be here.

Waiting for the baby to be born,
In the night or in the early morn
Anytime is alright with me,
'Cause it won't happen,
Thinkin' and a'prayin'
Wishin' and a'hopin'

Just wishin' and hopin'
And thinkin' and prayin'
Plannin' and dreamin'
This baby will come...
So the boys can have cinnamon buns.
So if you're thinkin' how long it seems to take
All you gotta do is

Wait and wait and wait and wait
And after you wait some more the baby will be here
He or she will be here, the baby will be here.

39w 6d

The midwife issued some amazing information this morning: "You are still pregnant."

Wow.

Shocking it is not considering the length of my past pregnancies, but there has always been hope that this one would be different, that the extra time put in with previous children would be redeemed this go-round. Alas, it is not the case.

I have been assured that pregnancies don't last forever, and I am thankful that I am not a elephant that must gestate for two years.

But I will issue this warning: Call at your own risk.

You Know It's Time...

to have a baby when:

1. You have to repack your bag to account for a change in season.
2. You have to start digging into your stash of post-baby food for dinner.
3. Your "last run" to Wal-mart was 3 trips ago.
4. You insist on thoroughly cleaning everything before bed "just in case" you have to leave in the night.
5. The children are surprised to see you when they wake up in the morning.

School: Week Eight

It's finally fall, and fall means apples and that means we read How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World which of course means that we had to make an apple pie.

So with help from my able-bodied assistant (while #1 read and #3 napped), we set to work.

(Apparently in all my years of apple cutting, I've never sliced them across; but thanks to my mom, the boys got to see the "star" in the apple).

Stephen enjoyed the use of the knife to slice.

He mixed in the sugar and cinnamon (sampling more than a few slices along the way).

He filled the crust and helped me to make a lattice top.

The proud chef showed off the completed project before putting it in the oven.

After dinner we sampled our work - delicious. Stephen preferred the crust and ate only a few bites. Andrew, on the other hand, who normally shuns any fruit other than gummy fruit snacks, ate all of his and Stephen's too.

This was definitely the kind of school project I like.

Finishing Touches

Now's the time for twiddlin' my thumbs.

Alright, there's never a moment for a mom of young children to twiddle: there are crumbs to sweep up, clothes to fold, noses & bottoms to be wiped, meals & snacks to prepare...the list goes on and on.

But as far as the wee one is concerned, everything is pretty much settled.

I've washed gowns & sleepers. The blankets are neatly rolled in some bargain baskets. The boys have tested the swing and bouncy seat. I even sewed a sack to hold bags for dirty diapers.

Announcements are addressed. Stamps have been purchased. The camera is charged and the memory card has been erased. Laundry is done nightly. A suitcase is constantly tripped upon.

In a superstitious moment, I grabbed Andrew's Honey Do list and made some cinnamon buns to put in the freezer along with 2 large and 4 small loaves of zucchini bread. Alas, we ate the soup and pie and there was no cake, but do you think it's close enough?

Determined to be super woman and do it "all why self" I set to work at 9pm last night playing musical chairs with the kids' car seats. Stephen, who for the last few months has played momma's helper with Matthew, was sent to the back with Andrew. Matthew, sans his stash of crushed Chex and petrified craisins, was scooted to the middle of the middle row AND turned forward. (I wish I had had a video of his face today as we went to the grocery store: absolute amazement!)

Well, after fiddling with the moving the middle seat for way too long, I relented and called in reinforcements (and greater muscle) to fix the problem. Amazingly, Doug had it solved in no time, and I think it may have been one of the first times we have ever installed a car seat together without arguing.

Now it's just a matter of time seeing as anything from 37 to 42 weeks is considered "normal" in the realm of pregnancy. Something like only 5% of mothers deliver ON their "estimated due date" so it really should be viewed as a large window, but unfortunately, we feel compelled to concentrate our energies on one date circled in red and anticipated for months.

At least with the boys, I've been rather vague about it all. On September 22 I mentioned that it was the 1st day of fall. Stephen immediately piped up, "And the baby is going to be born and all the leaves are going to fall off the trees." I guess I had forgotten explaining the general time frame. I assured him all those things would happen in the fall, just not necessarily on that day.

They are growing more and more excited though that might be because I told them they could have the cinnamon rolls when the baby is born. Andrew declared today, "I like babies, I like cinnamon rolls, and I like God." Stephen has been playing "Ms. Leigh" (my midwife) and measuring my belly with a measuring tape, all the while making helpful comments like, "Your belly is really big." They also like to investigate a hideous scar on my belly, a lovely reminder of the danger of a pregnant woman draining boiling water from spaghetti noodles.

Yes, the time is drawing nigh, and I am torn. I want to enjoy the final kicks, the pokes and prods and rolling; yet I am anxious to know my fate, as well. What does the future hold for the Hamill home? Only time will tell.