At Least One Kid Is Doing Well

Today we brought Karissa in for a 1-week check-up with her pediatrician, Dr. Hampton. Luckily, her weight has shot back up to 6 lbs, 11 oz; and where that's down from her birth weight of 6-13, it's up from her Saturday hospital discharge weight of 6-03. I've mentioned how Karissa did not take to breastfeeding very well, and we are now giving her a combination of Kathy's pumped breast milk and formula. That has helped her weight rebound and officially clear her of concerns in the mind of Dr. Hampton.

Same for her jaundice. Karissa has pretty much been camped out in a Papasan seat on our coffee table with indirect sunlight from a window splashed on her throughout the day. Yesterday we spent a little over a half-hour outside (Karissa under an umbrella) for a better dose of indirect sun. The doctor called her jaundice a "non-factor" with a quick eyeball test and never inspected further with a magnifying instrument.
Karissa did measure 20 inches, which is an increase of an inch in six days. That makes the fact that she's put on 8 ounces even better.

The doctor (as they are taught to do, I presume) complimented Kathy and I and sung our praises for the baby's health and weight recovery. It was nice of him, but we're not handing ourselves parenting gold medals just yet.

Which brings us to our other child ...

OH YEAH - THERE'S ANOTHER KID
Poor Kole has been a trooper adjusting to this new life. He's been happy and cooperative around Karissa. There's been no instances of hitting her or being rough around here like we thought. However, today was school day for him and some interesting red flags were raised again that may signify that his needs may have taken a backseat in the past couple of weeks.

As the day started - I had graveyard-shift feeding duties, while Kathy slumbered in Ambien-land. I hit feedings at 11:10 last night, then 3:00am then again at 6:00am, right as Kathy was awakening and ready to take over. I caught bits and pieces of maybe three hours of combined sleep, but right after Kathy took over I went into a coma until Kathy woke me up at 8:40, reminding me that Kole had to be at school at 9:00. I barely remember the car ride over - and took Kole to his class while guzzling coffee like a marathon runner takes Gatorade at the finish line. I came home and that's when we went to the doctor's office.

Upon picking Kole up I realized that he wasn't exactly ready for his GQ Kids cover-shoot. His toes were hanging off his sandles and his pants would not stay up around his waist.

Two things caught up with us: some obvious housekeeping items we've been putting off while attention to Karissa's needs have taken forefront; plus - the morning temperature was in the 60s as the Fall approaches, as it was one of the coolest we've seen since maybe April. So we had Kole in jeans that were probably purchased several months ago but never worn because we've been in shorts weather so long and the waist bands hadn't been adjusted accordingly; and the shoes (sandals) we've been pushing until we could go out and buy him some cooler-weather (closed toe) shoes. The combination of unexpectedly-early cool weather and the whole Karissa affairs of the past 2-3 weeks conspired to create one big pathetic and hilarious beyond belief ordeal this morning. On top of all that, the kid has had a recent growth spurt - and that's not an excuse. His frigging toes were not hanging off his shoes two weeks ago! Still ... I mean, it didn't kill him so we're allowed to laugh, aren't we? Kathy up from her Ambien-haze getting him ready, then me like a zombie on less than 4 hours of sleep dragging him up to school - and neither of us noticing was icing on the cake.


I will not be short-changed for making up excuses, and it's the best laugh these sleep-deprived, slap-happy parents have had in a few days.

Then and Now

I could overwhelm this blog space, already, with comparisons of then and now. Kole sitting in his swing two years ago on the day we brought him home ... Karissa in the same swing yesterday.
Yadda ... yadda ... yadda.
Could go on and on, but here's one more hospital shot that was purposely staged a bit to capture something similar to the magic moment I got with Kat and Kole two years ago.

The Light at Home

I could have/should have made this update yesterday, but we had our hands full. I’ll see if I can back-track and give you the day as it unfolded on Saturday.

Kathy didn’t sleep again the night before, as her sister Dawnell stayed the night with her in the hospital helping out. Narcotics for pain usually knocks out most people. But, for Kathy is does the opposite. It’s like a ‘5-Hour Energy’ shot. So, her options are to stay on her meds to feel better – and have it absolutely deprive her of sleep; or cut back on meds in order to sleep and feel worse. It’s a punch in the face or a kick in the crotch. And on Friday night (into Saturday morning), Kathy was determined to stick with the diligent program of breastfeeding Karissa at every opportunity throughout the night. Karissa simply isn’t latching on good, despite the best efforts and seemingly round-the-clock assistance from hospital lactation specialists. By the time I showed up on Saturday morning, Kathy had had a rough night. Karissa, as it turned out, was down to 6 lbs. 3 oz. – 10 ounces below her birth weight, but which was still not more than 10% of her original birth weight so we were still on schedule to be discharged. Kathy was actually cleared to leave early on in the day, but Karissa was going to be a close call with her weight and also since she was showing some jaundice.

By Noon, everyone had the clear to leave, then it took another two or three painful hours in order to get all the paperwork done for us to leave. Kay (my stepmother, Kole’s ‘Gram’) was with Kole back at the house, making it a complete full-circle of Grandma duty for the week. There were several key players that made this entire feature film possible. But where Kathy and Karissa had their names on the marquee as the stars of the film, the three grandmas were the directors and producers with the most important behind-the-scene roles, as well as Aunt Kelley and Aunt Dawnell. All sacrificed their time, effort and personal bank accounts to make sure that Kathy, Kole and myself were cared for – during and after the whole birth process. It’s love that is shown with actions, not words, and we are forever grateful.

We actually arrived home by about 4:00 in the afternoon, and immediately had to hit the ground running. Since Karissa isn’t latching onto Kathy’s fun-feeder, she’s pumping her milk so we can give that to her with a bottle. As of now, more than 50% of what Karissa’s eating is breast milk and formula is just supplementing where Kathy can’t keep up. Pumping also helps Kathy, as her jumblies are becoming more and more engorged and she’s actually producing quite a bit – an ounce or more for every 30 minutes of pumping. Karissa’s only taking about two ounces, or maybe a little more, per feeding.

Kole has taken to Karissa very well since we’ve brought her home. Where at the hospital it was a different story, he has been very receptive to her around here. He smiles and talks to her and gently places his hands on or around her. When she cries he gets a little freaked out, but eventually he starts mocking her cry and giggling.

And I almost hate writing this (big knock-on-wood) but last night Karissa was as good as she could have been. After a 10:30pm feeding, she awoke and cried for feedings around 1:30am and 4:00am and pretty much went right back to sleep afterwards. I did both of those graveyard-shift feedings, as Kathy took Ambien and tried to get some sleep. On both of my feeding shifts Karissa pooped her diaper – and peed on her onesie, needing changes on both. So, as that goes, both feedings took a little more time and effort than I hoped, but as I said – both times she rewarded us by going right back into a peaceful slumber.

Thankfully, my mother ran into a garage sale around our neighborhood while watching Kole on Wednesday/Thursday where a woman was selling baby clothes – including some Preemie onesies. Karissa actually fits into those best right now. The outfit we picked out for her to come home in swallowed her up. She is an itsy-bitsy little girl, but she is beautiful beyond belief, she is healthy, and she is now eating well and has spent most of today in her Papasan sitting on our coffee table with all the blinds open – getting some indirect sunlight, which will help her jaundice situation.

We covered all our bases as best as we could before hand – one of the benefits of having one newborn baby experience under our belts. We knew a little more of what to expect, then again – the grandmothers and aunts really picked up the slack on all the rest.

We are in great shape and are finally at the light at the end of that long tunnel that we started on back in January. As it turns out, that light was gorgeous sunshine and an 83-degree day with the fresh smell of rain on the grass from the day before. We are in a great place right now. The love of our families bonded together to make this as good of an experience as possible, and now Kathy and I can more easily focus on each other, Karissa, Kole, and the great days ahead.

Karissa Reese Fletcher

The alarm buzzed at 6:20am, but I had already been awake at least an hour. Kathy slept fairly well. She took an Ambien last night to help her sleep. The nerves and anxiety going back to the previous night were still like a thick haze in the house. The nervousness chiefly centered around the surgery, not so much the baby. We've been through this before, and it couldn't be any harder. I guess we were shell-shocked by the first birth experience with Kole ... the 22-hours of labor, the birth at 2:46am, the list goes on. By the difficulty of Kole's birth, this experience had to be easier, and it was.

After the whole house was awake, Kole and I had breakfast at 7:40 and I couldn't help but feel guilty. Kathy was fasting for the surgery and hadn't eaten since a bowl of cereal at 9:30 last night. I avoided coffee to keep from the aroma being too torturous on Kathy.

We were out the door by 9:00 and over to Kelley's where Kole was going to spend the day. He cried a little as we were leaving, which was not something Kathy needed to see. Eventually we got on our way towards Texas Health Arlington Memorial Hospital

I REALLY HATE HOSPITALS

We came in around 9:30 and I've never been a fan of any hospital. The walls are hard, it smells like antiseptic, it's a place where people come to be ill and die and most of the workers are as happy as postal workers. We were taken to triage where two nurses were so catty towards each other about where to put us that it was tangibly uncomfortable for us. Finally a friendly face peeked her head in and said "Are you our C-section?" Kathy gave an affirmative and we were taken to the surgery recovery room as a holding area. Kathy got in her gown and settled into a stretcher. Briefly she wondered if she might hyperventilate. Before long she was put on an IV and a baby monitor to her belly. The anesthesiologist came to visit and lay out his gameplan by 10:45 and this process was officially flying by. Kathy's mom Joan and my mom came before we went to the operating room, so it was good to have support beforehand. Just shy of noon I was brought my surgical blues - gown, shoe covers, hair net and the breath-cover thing. Shortly after noon we were ready to be wheeled around the corner to OR2 and it was time to have a baby. I had to pee like a racehorse and quickly relieved myself.

THE SOUNDS OF SURGERY

We hit the doors of the operating room and I felt my face go flush. Immediately, I had to pee again. And it's not like if I was made to I would. I mean - I suddenly had to pee just as urgently as I did three minutes ago back in the recovery room. I quickly realized that I did not want to chance leaving and decided that if I peed on myself I'd be covered by the gown and it may not be immediately noticeable. This is what's going through my mind as Kathy is being wheeled into the sterile room that is the actual operating room. I hate hospitals.
C-section, no matter how many moms talk about how quick and convenient they are, is still surgery. Doctors and assistants are scrubbing up to their elbows. The place is sterile down to the clamps that allows the doctor to manipulate the lights - fresh cracked out of a sterile package. First Kathy was sat straddled on the side of the bed while the anesthesiologist did his thing numbing her, then it took another 15 minutes prepping different elements of the surgery to come. I was finally allowed in at 12:20, sitting in a stool beside Kathy's left side by her head, right in front of a blue sheet that went across Kathy's body just below her shoulders. I was not told Do not look over that sheet, but I was informed that it would probably not be a good idea and it was mostly discouraged. Good enough. Don't tell me I can't, just that I shouldn't. Fine.

What entailed next was surgery - plain and simple. Doctors mumbling things to one another underneath their breath. Lots of numbers - requested by Dr. Robert Krombach, ObGyn, at the controls at Kathy's belly, then barked out by an assistant or the anesthesiologist behind Kathy's head and to my right. I only could see Kathy's face with an oxygen mask on, and could only smell my own breath within my little facemask. And unfortunately, from nerves or whatever, my breath smelled like the hind quarters of a warthog. That left only the sense of hearing to interpret what was going on. The sounds of the doctors communicating in code to one another. The sounds of scissors snipping. Geez, I can't get that sound out of my head. Like a barber shop, the sound of scissor blades smacking - over and over again. When the surgery instruments were put back on their tray it sounded like an auto mechanic throwing a wrench into a toolbox - thick, heavy metal clanging loudly. And then there was the suction. Imagine being at the dentist and having that suction tube around - hearing it hiss lightly in the background until it finally runs into liquid then gurgles and chokes loudly on it. Now imagine that sound being twice as loud, and the tube being twice as large. I finally took notice of the tube to Kathy's right, pumping thick red fluid just after I heard the suction tube gargle. Gross. I hate hospitals! Then I noticed a little Christmas-tree-like apparatus that they kept stuffing bloody towels into - carefully, and only one or two towels per pouch. As it turns out, they have to have a count of towels when they're done, and it better be the same number of towels they started with. If not, the mommy will have to be cut back open. Real Discovery Health Channel horror-story stuff, but not very common. Actually things were going as well as they could for us, and the doctors kept remind us of it. I was doing my part encouraging Kathy and reminded her that God was in the room with us and everything was going to be alright.

SHE LIVES

There was no big countdown to anything. It's not traditional labor. There's no pushing, no orders from the doctors to do anything. Krombach only gave encouragement to Kathy and "not much longer" updates. Otherwise it was medical CB-radio yackity-yack in a sterile room full of people in blue gowns wearing masks. Then without warning, almost out of nowhere, amid all the surgical machinery and chatter between people who held important degrees, there was a slight - yet unmistakable - brief, beautiful squeal.

Viola. We had a little girl.

After the quick squeak, Kathy says my eyes were like saucers. I immediately jumped up and saw Krombach hold her up - bloodied and tiny, as she began shrieking. Karissa Reese Fletcher had just made her grand entrance into the world.
My first reaction, mentally - Wow, she's a lot smaller than Kole was!
We thought she'd be smaller, but she just looked so itsy-bitsy. A nurse took her from Krombach and said something like "Who's got the strawberry blonde hair?" Neither of us do, but Kathy has dishwater blonde hair. I had a moment with Kathy then quickly went over to inspect Karissa. It's the spot I hated being in - be with Kathy, or the little girl, but not both at the same time. I went back and forth, but had some quick moments with Karissa, holding her hand while the nurse wiped her down - just like I did with Kole. All the while, Kathy was being stitched back up. I caught a quick glance and didn't care for what I saw. Surgery is a gruesome ordeal. Karissa was weighed and measured (6 pounds, 13.1 oz, 19 inches at 12:32pm). Eventually we were able to hold Karissa up by Kathy's head and the anesthesiologist (Dr. Meller, by the way) snapped a couple of pictures for us. Since Kathy was strapped down I did most of the holding of Karissa for the time we were in the OR. When it was finally time to be wheeled out she was put in Kathy's arms - trembling fiercely from the drugs she was given.

We rolled back to the recovery room about 25 minutes after Karissa's first squeal. Kathy's hands were trembling, but all the grandparents were there and love was in the room.

If I had to lean on a Bible verse to sum up the day, and I've given this much thought beforehand, I'll go with James chapter 1. The entire chapter is just 27 verses, a quick and highly recommended read, and is a perfect motivational speech for daily life given by James, the good book's ultimate straight-shooter. In verses 17 and 18 he says: "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created."

Amen, brother.

Today's just a day to sit in awe and wonderment at the process of a life being created. Without being rude or confrontational, I wonder how a parent, a person who's been through this process, can still be Atheist or agnostic. That somehow this was not the creation of a powerful God, but simply some tradition of procreation passed down from apes and fish and - down on the basement tip of that Evolution inverted pyramid - single cells, which appeared in a scientifically-explainable fashion after swirls of 10,000-degree galactic gasses coincidentally formed the earth.

I don't buy it and don't need to. Today was the conclusion of one of God's great miracles - life itself. He gave us a really good one, and this has been one heck of a great day.

The Birds of a Hurricane

As the stories go in coastal towns, the calm in the eye of a hurricane is anything but. The wind is absent and there is an eerie cone of pleasant sunshine within the inner walls of the violent storm. But what happens in that space of time before the other side of the storm hits is a chance for locals to assess damage, reinforce boarded windows and battened hatches, possibly even dash for higher ground. Belying the sense of calm in the air, there is a frantic race against time.

And then there's the birds. By the thousands upon thousands, birds are chased inwardly to the hub of the spinning storm-wheel, flocking almost apocalyptically. They don't nest and the only thing to really feed off of is the sense of desperation from the people trying to brace for safety with one eye on the sky.

There is an equally eerie calm in the center of a hurricane that is the birth of a child. In the initial bands of the storm are the endless purchases and transformation of the home and body of the mother. That's a storm, trust me. On the other side of the eye is the birth and first breaths of a new life. That's a storm that can be strong and nasty, before eventually moving quickly on and giving way to sunny skies.

Right now Kathy, Kole and myself sit in the eye of the storm, enjoying the sun and reasonable calm.

And then there's the birds. The thoughts, dreams and concerns of what's coming. Birds of different sizes and colors, but birds that can't go unnoticed. That's what flies around in flocks when there is nothing more to put up in the baby's room, stock up on at Costco, Thank You note to write, bow to tie, 'i' to dot or 't' to cross.

The air is still in here but there are many, many birds.

The First Clue

People have wondered about the name of our next child, but really I gave it away here - on the second post I ever made on this blog, even before Kole was born.

Kole Goes To School

I'm way behind on this, but Kole has actually had his second week of "school". Really it's just a mothers-day-out on Tuesdays and Thursdays at The Woods United Methodist Church in Grand Prairie, where Kelley is a teacher. We figured we needed the benefits of both - Kathy getting some free time at least twice a week, especially after the baby comes, and Kole needs more socialization with other kids his age along with some regular, basic learning from 9am to 2pm.

He's a sponge for words, which obviously has its goods and bads. He's an absolute parrot and will repeat anything he hears. But, along the way, he'll retain a lot. Just yesterday we were out on the back deck where I have a little serrano pepper plant growing. One nice serrano has gotten big and pretty noticeable and turned red. Kole started touching it and I called it "pepper". He repeated the word a few times in his own dialect: "pe-puh". He then ran around the yard, playing the way he does, then about 10 minutes later returned to the deck and touched the pepper again ... "pe-puh". That's become the norm around here.

So, back at school, he's surly learning a lot. It's hard to get a full grasp of everything he's learning, but he's coming back saying things we don't quite understand but figure it will all click in soon. Kole's class is known as the Frogs, as all the classes are broken up to the age groups and there is a Turtle class, Ducks, etc. I should probably clarify - Kelley is not his teacher, she teaches the next youngest kids in the room nextdoor. But, we met Kole's teachers (two of them) at the Open House, and both appear to be very nice, nurturing gals. Each room has a two-way glass window so you can see in. Yesterday I went to pick him up and was 10 minutes early, so I got a chance to watch him play and interact with the other kids. It's actually pretty fascinating. He does very well with other kids, but still has his lone-wolf tendacies. All the kids will be engaged in something and he'll just wander off and stare at a picture on the wall. When a teacher was cleaning up, he gladly jumped in and put toys in baskets, etc. It's good to be a fly on the wall and watch him in a fairly strange environment and be a helpful good boy and not be a whiney little sh**, even if it was just for 10 minutes.

Karissa's Sprinkle

This past Sunday we had a Sprinkle for little Karissa here at the house. Grammy (Peggy), Aunt Kelley and Donna were the gracious hosts. The idea of a Sprinkle is to be a lighter version of a full-blown Shower, common for baby's that come after the first. But, the haul of gifts was about as large as the original take with Kole - less the major items like car seats, etc.
Karissa now has a ton of clothes - sized all the way out to when she's beyond 1-year old. It's a reminder of how blessed we are to have so many kind, caring and giving family and friends who love us.
Also in attendance were Grandma (Joan), PawPaw (Gary Don) & Grams (Kay), my Aunt Eva, Aunt Doris, stepsisters Shanna and Alison, family friends Ava and Donna, neighbor friends Amie and Mako, Kathy's friends Debbie, Carolanne, Sharon and later Samantha.
The hostesses made one of Kathy's recent cravings - strawberry cake, and other goodies. It was a good gathering, a very generous one, and by the day Kathy seemingly did nothing but open gifts and was gassed as if she had just run around the block, barely able to get off the couch after everyone had left.
The fatigue has definitely set in, and now - entering the 38th week - she's at the point of being breathless while walking around the kitchen to make Kole and herself breakfast. She's a trooper.
One more week!