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Tuesday, June 27, 2006
The little man's eye appointment went well. The doctor said that all looks good and thinks that the eye crossing is a bit of an optical illusion -- while they appear to cross, the exam showed that they aren't really doing so. It's all rather confusing. Basically, he said we should continue to watch it and we'll check again in September.
Also last week, the second tooth made it's grand appearance. Since then we've had a rather fussy baby. Fussy only by our standards based on his usually charming behavior. In comparison to other babies, he's still a joy.
Not much else to say. Somebody give me a topic. I'm just too tired to think of anything on my own.
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Monday, June 19, 2006
Audio Re-transmitters SUCK!
Last night the lowercase went to sleep after his 9pm feeding. Normally, he stays up and eats once more between 10:30 and 11, so this was a rare thing indeed.
I laid him down in the crib in his room rather than the cradle in ours and turned on the baby monitor. My little man still can't sleep in a quiet or dark room, so we always leave a TV on Nick at Nite for the sound of people talking softly and light.
When I went into the living room, I started thinking that maybe I wasn't hearing his room. It was confirmed when the commercials ended and people were talking, rather seriously and soap-opera-esque about Francesca's labor. I'm pretty sure that wasn't in the episode where Roseanne worked at a fast food place for a kid from Becky's school.
Confirmed -- interference from another apartment in the building. No big, we'll change the channel. Except it didn't matter.
Apparently someone in our building (8 units, 4 up, 4 down) has one of those wireless audio transmitter speaker systems. You know the ones -- you just plug the speakers into an outlet and they pick up the signal from the television or stereo. People who just don't want to run wires.
I can honestly understand it if you are doing it to pipe your stereo throughout the entire house or whatever, especially if it's rented and you can't snake the wires through the walls or ceilings. I get it.
But for your TV? Seriously people. Use a real home theater solution. Run some dumb wires around the perimeter of the room. I want to hear my son in his room and NOT your dumbass choices in television. (Shut up about dumb choices and my son sleeping to the sounds of Roseanne -- it works for him -- he sleeps -- and I don't have to sleep sitting up to hold him all night like I did before we started doing that after his NICU discharge)
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Friday, June 16, 2006
CRAP!
I should have known we wouldn't get through all the premie issues unscathed. So far we've been moving right along developmentally. He's been on the right side of the numbers on his ages/stages surveys. So far there has been no need for any early intervention.
He passed his eye exams, indicating that as the blood vessels grew out, they did so correctly and we didn't have any problems from ROP.
I thought we were good. Except I had kind of noticed that lately his eyes don't always track together. But, you know, sometimes they do. And sometimes he gets the tiniest bit cross-eyed, but he's always laughing when he does that and oh! isn't he silly!
Except no. I talked to my mom today and she told me she thought there was a little something wrong with one of his eyes -- that one didn't seem to track with the other just right. She'd noticed it in pictures we've sent. I said I'd seen it to. She asked when his next eye exam is and I told her that it was in September. She said I should call the eye doctor and see if he wants to see my lowercase sooner.
And so I called. And they do. They said that they would like to see him at their next available opening, Wednesday. They also said that if I notice anything at all more that I should call and they will bring him in sooner than that because THIS IS AN EYE EMERGENCY.
Oh.
An emergency. And here I thought it was just a little something that was really nothing. EMERGENCY. Lovely.
The thing is, my eyes don't always track together. They never have. I thought it was no big deal. For me it isn't an issue. And maybe his isn't. Of course, my nephew also had strabismus, and his IS a big deal. He's four and wears glasses as thick as coke bottles (do young people still call them that? I mean, they've never seen glass coke bottles...does it even make sense to them? and does my remembering make me old? DAMN!). He's had patches. And if I'm not completely wrong, he's also had some eye surgery, but right now I'm a little hysterical and just because I remember him having eye surgery doesn't mean he actually did.
Damn it. Is it fucking Wednesday yet? And is it wrong to down a bottle of wine now?
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Wednesday, June 07, 2006
The lowercase's First Tooth
Yes, that's right. He has a tooth. A TOOTH! (And the crankypants to go with it today) I'm freaking out. On the one hand -- yay! He's healthy and growing and developing and becoming a boy. And on the other hand? WHERE IS MY BABY GOING? COME BACK BABY! I LOVE YOU!
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Thursday, June 01, 2006
Originally I started this blog as a way to pour out what I was feeling after miscarrying (and then again...and again). I was torn apart and desperately wanted to have a child.
I posted through all the tests, the trips to the RE who said that I really didn't need his services despite my uterine anomaly since I had no trouble conceiving and nothing he could do would keep me pregnant.
I posted about our emotional upheaval as we faced our fourth pregnancy. I talked about our decision that, come what may, we were at our last attempt in my body. I talked about how much I wanted to just use a gestational surrogate since our embryos karyotyped normally. But I knew that I had to give my body just one more chance.
And then I delivered 10.5 weeks prematurely. My son was remarkably healthy. Still, 53 days in the NICU takes its toll.
As we sat there day after day, Mr. W and I discussed the fact that we were done. We never wanted to be in the NICU again and all the perinatologists assured us that a future pregnancy in my body would be the same.
Unfortunately, Mr. W and I have a different opinion on what it meant to be done.
He is done. His family is complete. He wants no more children regardless of how they come into our lives.
But I am not done. My family is not complete. I honestly want one more. I don't know if I want to use a surrogate. In all honesty, when I consider the future, I see a little girl with us. A Chinese girl, perhaps. Or South American of some nationality.
And yet my husband is done. His family is complete.
And I am left to determine whether it is better to persuade him that perhaps his family is not as complete as he thinks it is or if I should let go of my dream. If I should somehow find the way to put away my desire for a second child and just be happy with what I have.*
*Point of clarification: I am beyond happy with what I have. I love my son more than anything and am thrilled with the family we have created. I just always saw myself with at least two children. And I always saw myself adopting -- long before I knew that it might be the only way to grow my family.
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