Where do I begin with this one....
On Father's Day, my son had what we now know as a seizure, caused by a tumor in his brain that was discovered that afternoon. As I type these words, my 16 month old son lays on an operating table while a team of the region's top doctors and specialists poke at his brain.
How does one prepare for this moment? I'm still not sure -- my wife and I are still in a state of shock that we are even here. The shock wears off into true horror in those moments where reality is unavoidable -- the first time they put him under so they could do an MRI or this morning, as my wife took him from my arms and walked into the Operating Theatre, while he looked back at me and giggled.
What we know is this: the tumor is the size of a ping-pong ball, and located under the top layer of the brain between the right frontal and partietal lobes. This section of the brain controls motor functions on the LEFT side of the body, which explains why he had weakness in his left arm and leg when we first found him on Sunday morning (he had his seizure in his crib, so we weren't there to see it. I'm not sure yet if I think that's a good or bad thing).
What the tumor is, how long it has been there, whether or not they'll be able to surgically remove it all, what kind of damage we might see in movement on the left side of his body, what recovery will look like -- these will all be questions that will overtake our lives for the coming week as we look past the end of his surgery.
I'm not sure there is anything more to write yet, as the intensity of this experience will take time to unravel, even as it continues to grow more complex moving forward. I will use this space to update the status of things, as often as I possibly can, so that those we are lucky enough to call friends and family (and those new folks out there in cyber-land) will have a one-stop shop to get the latest on our situation. Prayers, kind words and support are welcomed and received with thanks.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
The True Plague
Well, Vampbaby has made marked improvements on the sleeping front -- from a 2-hour screamfest on night one of our new "sleeping understanding", all the way to this evening -- where he landed softly in his crib, rolled over and went to sleep without so much as a peep. It's a miracle!
But wait -- that was too easy! No, the dreaded beast that lies in wait leaps forward, ready to pounce and destroy any shred of overnight peace we've found. And who is this monster from the depths of hell?
A cold -- or, perhaps allergies. But whatever it is, it is pouring out of our son's nose, filling his lungs with goo, and making him slightly less than his perky self. Now as I've said before, this ceaseless sniffle-fest comes with the territory of daycare. However, the fact that it chooses to arrive, almost like clockwork, on the night when we're at the cusp of a sleeping breakthrough, is almost too much to bear. We do have one ally on our side tonight, though. Since we're not sure whether this is indeed a cold, or our son showing the signs of seasonal allergies, the doctor has recommended the sleep aid from heaven known as Benadryl. If it clears up the issue, then it's allergies. If it doesn't, then it's a cold and we're screwed to a point -- but at least Vampbaby will sleep tonight overcome with drowsy-making drugs. I find it a bit unnerving that parents routinely give their kids over the counter medications to help them sleep, and I have no intention of becoming one who does that. But tonight, I will not mind the cold so much if he snoozes his way through it with a little help.
But wait -- that was too easy! No, the dreaded beast that lies in wait leaps forward, ready to pounce and destroy any shred of overnight peace we've found. And who is this monster from the depths of hell?
A cold -- or, perhaps allergies. But whatever it is, it is pouring out of our son's nose, filling his lungs with goo, and making him slightly less than his perky self. Now as I've said before, this ceaseless sniffle-fest comes with the territory of daycare. However, the fact that it chooses to arrive, almost like clockwork, on the night when we're at the cusp of a sleeping breakthrough, is almost too much to bear. We do have one ally on our side tonight, though. Since we're not sure whether this is indeed a cold, or our son showing the signs of seasonal allergies, the doctor has recommended the sleep aid from heaven known as Benadryl. If it clears up the issue, then it's allergies. If it doesn't, then it's a cold and we're screwed to a point -- but at least Vampbaby will sleep tonight overcome with drowsy-making drugs. I find it a bit unnerving that parents routinely give their kids over the counter medications to help them sleep, and I have no intention of becoming one who does that. But tonight, I will not mind the cold so much if he snoozes his way through it with a little help.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
I scream, you scream....
As I noted in my previous entry, my beloved son has one challening behavioral issue at the moment -- that he doesn't sleep well. During the day, particularly at school, he's a napping wizard. But the overnight slumber is fleeting.
I blame this largely on too many tips and not enough solid advice right at birth. After 7 months of trying various techniques with little success, we mentioned the issue to our pediatrician, who proceeded to hand us a two-page write up of helping babies sleep through the night. My first response after reading it was one of deep frustration...Why the hell hadn't someone given this to us at the hospital? For god's sake, they stuff your exit package with diaper bags, coolers, breast pump parts, and more brochures than you can possibly read, but none of them cover the foundations needed for a good nights sleep. It was clear in reading that, for the first several months, we did exactly everything that we weren't supposed to. Had someone given this "white paper" at birth, I wouldn't be typing this right now, and my son would be out cold dreaming of dancing monkeys or something.
Before I go further, I think it's important that I point out that everyone must find the appropriate thing that works for their families -- be it co-sleeping or a tough-love, "cry-it-out" approach, or something in the middle.
For us, no one method has worked. We did co-sleeping for awhile during the second half of the night, then worked him towards making it through the night in his crib with some visits from us. Then, just as we'd get a night of two or straight sleeping without our presence, he'd catch a cold or some other ailment that made him clingly, and we'd be back at the beginning with him taking over our bed.
Well, we've decided to take the plunge and address the issue head-on. After reading several books on sleeping (and returning them to the bookstore because, in the end, they're all useless), we've settled on getting him into his crib at night still awake, and sitting with him until he conks out. Evidence from others is that, with a kid this age and temperment, that this is often the path of leas resistance.
Well, that began at 8:05. It's now 9:20, and through the monitor I can still hear him screaming. His cries are growing weaker as sleep (or perhaps laryngitis) overtakes him, but I don't hear a peep from my wife. I'm assuming that she's sitting in the chair, trying not to go insane or worse -- picking him up and lulling him to sleep in her arms.
No, now is where we screw our courage to the sticking place, and prepare for a battle that could rage on for hours...days...weeks.
Pray for us, dear friends.
I blame this largely on too many tips and not enough solid advice right at birth. After 7 months of trying various techniques with little success, we mentioned the issue to our pediatrician, who proceeded to hand us a two-page write up of helping babies sleep through the night. My first response after reading it was one of deep frustration...Why the hell hadn't someone given this to us at the hospital? For god's sake, they stuff your exit package with diaper bags, coolers, breast pump parts, and more brochures than you can possibly read, but none of them cover the foundations needed for a good nights sleep. It was clear in reading that, for the first several months, we did exactly everything that we weren't supposed to. Had someone given this "white paper" at birth, I wouldn't be typing this right now, and my son would be out cold dreaming of dancing monkeys or something.
Before I go further, I think it's important that I point out that everyone must find the appropriate thing that works for their families -- be it co-sleeping or a tough-love, "cry-it-out" approach, or something in the middle.
For us, no one method has worked. We did co-sleeping for awhile during the second half of the night, then worked him towards making it through the night in his crib with some visits from us. Then, just as we'd get a night of two or straight sleeping without our presence, he'd catch a cold or some other ailment that made him clingly, and we'd be back at the beginning with him taking over our bed.
Well, we've decided to take the plunge and address the issue head-on. After reading several books on sleeping (and returning them to the bookstore because, in the end, they're all useless), we've settled on getting him into his crib at night still awake, and sitting with him until he conks out. Evidence from others is that, with a kid this age and temperment, that this is often the path of leas resistance.
Well, that began at 8:05. It's now 9:20, and through the monitor I can still hear him screaming. His cries are growing weaker as sleep (or perhaps laryngitis) overtakes him, but I don't hear a peep from my wife. I'm assuming that she's sitting in the chair, trying not to go insane or worse -- picking him up and lulling him to sleep in her arms.
No, now is where we screw our courage to the sticking place, and prepare for a battle that could rage on for hours...days...weeks.
Pray for us, dear friends.
Friday, June 02, 2006
A day in the life
Metrodad was kind enough to give me a little shout-out this week, a loving "where the hell are you?" after a bit of blogging silence.
Adding a new past time to one's life is sometimes a challenge, but never moreso that when new parenting has occupied every waking moment -- at least the moments that are not filled with the needed bread-winning to provide the roof over baby's head and milk in baby's sippy cup.
A day in the life of Vampdaddy looks a little something like this these days:
3:00am - Awakening of Vampbabby. At fifteen months he his still not sleeping through the night -- although he certainly is much better than early on. Our current challenge is that, when the overnight awakening happens, the last thing on his mind is a return to restful sleep in his own crib. The only satisfaction seems to come by moving into our bed, which he quickly takes over with his kicking and squirming. Sleep for me between that time and wake up is fleeting at best.
6:00am - Day begins. There is no need for a 6am alarm clock in our house any more, since Vampbaby is awake and ready to begin the day with a level of day-to-day consistency that is mindboggling.
6:05am - Feeding the Monster. I told someone recently that our son is a bit like Rainman -- if you deviate from the schedule, hellfire will rain down upon you. In our son's case, you can set your clock to his appetite, so breakfast is priority one. Taking after dad, my son is not a morning person -- not until he gets his banana and cereal, anyway!
7:30am - The great escape. Depending on the forthcoming work day, either my wife or I tosses Vampbaby in the car and gets him to school, while the other gets ready for the day in a few moments of peace and quiet.
8:30am - Save the world. I run a non-profit, so my work day involves grant writing, relationship building, money seeking, meeting going, plan making, phone chatting, and computer using. Remember the days when they promised that computers and email would revolutionize the modern work day? It certainly has, as I spend most of my day reviewing emails...The actual work happens in between.
5:00pm - World saved, return to halls of justice. Retrieval of Vampbaby is always an uncertain moment. Has he had a good day? Did he nap? Did he eat? Depending on these factors, the evening can either take a relaxing or stressful turn. The fun is in the surprise!
6:00pm - Feeding the Monster, part 2. Dinner. See 6:05am for details.
7:00pm - Tub time. All of the stress of the day melts away...At least for Vampbaby! Mommy and I just work to make sure that too much water doesn't end up on the floor and that we can get through the bath without Vampbaby pooping in the tub. Yuck.
8:00pm - Vampbaby Sleeps. Hopefully, anyway. Lights out, a little cd of whale music, and two books lull him to unconsciousness.
8:15 - Parental down time! This involve mindless zoning on the couch, watching Law and Order (because its always on some channel). The one time where we have to unwind and stare at each other, remembering, "hey. don't I know you? Aren't we married or something?" Of course, this down time is often interrupted by other duties required to keep the world from exploding, like paying bills and dealing with work that one of us had to bring home.
11:00pm - Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. It is a bit more challenging these days to get to bed, as I relish the above mentioned down time. But I try not to stay up past the Colbert Report's "Word of the Day", otherwise it will hurt when the cycle starts over again at 3am.
Wash...Rinse...Repeat.....
Adding a new past time to one's life is sometimes a challenge, but never moreso that when new parenting has occupied every waking moment -- at least the moments that are not filled with the needed bread-winning to provide the roof over baby's head and milk in baby's sippy cup.
A day in the life of Vampdaddy looks a little something like this these days:
3:00am - Awakening of Vampbabby. At fifteen months he his still not sleeping through the night -- although he certainly is much better than early on. Our current challenge is that, when the overnight awakening happens, the last thing on his mind is a return to restful sleep in his own crib. The only satisfaction seems to come by moving into our bed, which he quickly takes over with his kicking and squirming. Sleep for me between that time and wake up is fleeting at best.
6:00am - Day begins. There is no need for a 6am alarm clock in our house any more, since Vampbaby is awake and ready to begin the day with a level of day-to-day consistency that is mindboggling.
6:05am - Feeding the Monster. I told someone recently that our son is a bit like Rainman -- if you deviate from the schedule, hellfire will rain down upon you. In our son's case, you can set your clock to his appetite, so breakfast is priority one. Taking after dad, my son is not a morning person -- not until he gets his banana and cereal, anyway!
7:30am - The great escape. Depending on the forthcoming work day, either my wife or I tosses Vampbaby in the car and gets him to school, while the other gets ready for the day in a few moments of peace and quiet.
8:30am - Save the world. I run a non-profit, so my work day involves grant writing, relationship building, money seeking, meeting going, plan making, phone chatting, and computer using. Remember the days when they promised that computers and email would revolutionize the modern work day? It certainly has, as I spend most of my day reviewing emails...The actual work happens in between.
5:00pm - World saved, return to halls of justice. Retrieval of Vampbaby is always an uncertain moment. Has he had a good day? Did he nap? Did he eat? Depending on these factors, the evening can either take a relaxing or stressful turn. The fun is in the surprise!
6:00pm - Feeding the Monster, part 2. Dinner. See 6:05am for details.
7:00pm - Tub time. All of the stress of the day melts away...At least for Vampbaby! Mommy and I just work to make sure that too much water doesn't end up on the floor and that we can get through the bath without Vampbaby pooping in the tub. Yuck.
8:00pm - Vampbaby Sleeps. Hopefully, anyway. Lights out, a little cd of whale music, and two books lull him to unconsciousness.
8:15 - Parental down time! This involve mindless zoning on the couch, watching Law and Order (because its always on some channel). The one time where we have to unwind and stare at each other, remembering, "hey. don't I know you? Aren't we married or something?" Of course, this down time is often interrupted by other duties required to keep the world from exploding, like paying bills and dealing with work that one of us had to bring home.
11:00pm - Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. It is a bit more challenging these days to get to bed, as I relish the above mentioned down time. But I try not to stay up past the Colbert Report's "Word of the Day", otherwise it will hurt when the cycle starts over again at 3am.
Wash...Rinse...Repeat.....
Sunday, May 21, 2006
The Other Child
I was reminded this week that Vampbaby is not the only child my wife and I care for and love dearly. The other is our first child -- the one that came into our lives before we were married and has stayed with us ever since. I am referring, of course, to the family dog. Given that the average dog has the attention span of a 5 year-old, the comparison to parenting is certainly appropriate.
Our pup was a shelter dog; a lab/german shepherd mix that we connected with instantly upon meeting. Our pooch has always been treated like a child by us -- he goes everywhere that we do (as our families can attest, having included him on the guest list of many a holiday party) and he is doted on constantly. He also served as good practice for two young people planning one day to become parents to an actual human being.
Bringing a second child into the family was just as big for him as it was for us. We read what we could about bringing a new baby into a home with a dog, and followed the recommendations to the letter. The hat our newborn wore after he was born was brought home for the dog to "get to know". When Vampbaby arrived at home, we brought our beloved canine friend out to the car to meet him, rather than having the new bundle invade his space. While this process seemed to work, it has certainly been rough on our "top dog" to be relegated to number two in the "New World Order". He has, however, taken it in stride, and has been patient and kind with both us and the new addition. Of course, now that Vampbaby is walking and able to reach for him, he's not quite as amused, but he tolerates the fur-pulls with a certain heroic stoicism.
The comparison of having a dog to having a child is clear this week by looking at our wallets, which have gone empty upon news of a very expensive vet visit, and the need for subsequent surgery to address a broken tooth. For a dog of almost 11 years of age, ours has been the picture of health, but the broken tooth threatens to become infected and must be dealt with. This will set us back several dollars (to say the least), so once again we look to creative budgeting, ebay sales and work-related mileage reimbursement to get us through.
Of course, there's also the funds we've expended saving the lives of the fish in our fish tank, who fell ill after the city decided to mess with the chemical makeup of the town's water. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise -- caring costs.
Our pup was a shelter dog; a lab/german shepherd mix that we connected with instantly upon meeting. Our pooch has always been treated like a child by us -- he goes everywhere that we do (as our families can attest, having included him on the guest list of many a holiday party) and he is doted on constantly. He also served as good practice for two young people planning one day to become parents to an actual human being.
Bringing a second child into the family was just as big for him as it was for us. We read what we could about bringing a new baby into a home with a dog, and followed the recommendations to the letter. The hat our newborn wore after he was born was brought home for the dog to "get to know". When Vampbaby arrived at home, we brought our beloved canine friend out to the car to meet him, rather than having the new bundle invade his space. While this process seemed to work, it has certainly been rough on our "top dog" to be relegated to number two in the "New World Order". He has, however, taken it in stride, and has been patient and kind with both us and the new addition. Of course, now that Vampbaby is walking and able to reach for him, he's not quite as amused, but he tolerates the fur-pulls with a certain heroic stoicism.
The comparison of having a dog to having a child is clear this week by looking at our wallets, which have gone empty upon news of a very expensive vet visit, and the need for subsequent surgery to address a broken tooth. For a dog of almost 11 years of age, ours has been the picture of health, but the broken tooth threatens to become infected and must be dealt with. This will set us back several dollars (to say the least), so once again we look to creative budgeting, ebay sales and work-related mileage reimbursement to get us through.
Of course, there's also the funds we've expended saving the lives of the fish in our fish tank, who fell ill after the city decided to mess with the chemical makeup of the town's water. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise -- caring costs.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
This Mortal Coil
I wrote earlier about the change one goes through in hearing about tragedies that befall kids when one becomes a parent. This week I was reminded again of this, by two parents who have gone through something terrible and are trying to use it to influence others.
Our hometown had a Town Hall meeting this week to address concerns around Underage Drinking in the community. I won't bore you with details, as addressing this and issues like it are part of my job, but needless to say we are a community where this is an issue (the bad new, of course, is all communities fall into this category).
Two parents attended the meeting that I had met recently, and once again they shared their experience which is still so fresh in their minds. I couldn't possibly put into words appropriately what their experience was like losing their son, but fortunately I don't have to: you can read (and see) about it -- just click on the title of this entry and it'll take you to the story.
What I will repeat is the quote that is at the end of their letter. Jason's father mentioned in his speach, and I find it resonates with me as a new parent who has been trying to articulate the love, care and concern that I feel for this little creature who just over a year ago was only an abstract concept.
“You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” -Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Leave it to JK Rowling to put the right words together on that one.
(Apologies to those friends and fellow bloggers who saw the title and thought, 'finally -- Vampdaddy's gonna blog about his 4AD fetish!' Maybe next time...)
Our hometown had a Town Hall meeting this week to address concerns around Underage Drinking in the community. I won't bore you with details, as addressing this and issues like it are part of my job, but needless to say we are a community where this is an issue (the bad new, of course, is all communities fall into this category).
Two parents attended the meeting that I had met recently, and once again they shared their experience which is still so fresh in their minds. I couldn't possibly put into words appropriately what their experience was like losing their son, but fortunately I don't have to: you can read (and see) about it -- just click on the title of this entry and it'll take you to the story.
What I will repeat is the quote that is at the end of their letter. Jason's father mentioned in his speach, and I find it resonates with me as a new parent who has been trying to articulate the love, care and concern that I feel for this little creature who just over a year ago was only an abstract concept.
“You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.” -Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Leave it to JK Rowling to put the right words together on that one.
(Apologies to those friends and fellow bloggers who saw the title and thought, 'finally -- Vampdaddy's gonna blog about his 4AD fetish!' Maybe next time...)
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Infant Academia
Today was picture day at Vampbaby's school -- we dropped him off in his PJ's to prevent morning breakfast from staining his perfect outfit. We set what little hair he currently has in order, and made sure his seven teeth were sparkling clean. Soon we will have a new set of photos to compare with the last picture day, to awe and marvel at the changes that seem to be coming so quickly as he grows -- grows like the cutest little weed on the planet.
Some folks tend to raise an eyebrow when I refer to his daycare as "school". The reality is that, even in the infant room, there is a great deal of learning taking place -- those we entrust with our son for forty hours a week are certainly more than "babysitters", holding him at bay until we return from our adult universe.
Whatever you call it, hoewver, sending your new precious bundle into the arms of others for the majority of the week is never an emotionally easy decision to make, or live with. Granted, in many cases such as ours the decision to put him into school came from basic economics -- where, in today's world, both parents have to work to ensure that a family can live at least slightly above poverty. While we weren't that bad off, we are certainly close enough that having a stay-at-home parent was not in the cards. Although, I for one would love to be a stay-at-home dad, so hopefully that winning scratch ticket will arrive soon!
In talking to friends with kids, those that had put their children in daycare often said that, while it was agonizing to do so, it turned out to be the best thing for the little one, and them as a family. We weren't quire sure about that, and went through our first days and weeks feeling guilty as many parents do -- but in the end we are convinced that it was the best thing we could have done.
The advantage is seen in Vampbaby's incredible ability to socialize and interact with almost anyone. Granted, he'll need to embrace a balanced attitude about strangers, but he has currently no qualms about meeting new people or being in crowds -- particularly when there are other babies around. We have in our midst a little social butterfly, completely at ease with getting to know new faces.
Also, he's been sick pretty much non-stop since June of 2005. While that doesn't sound like an advantage (and trust me, it doesn't feel like one either), we are repeatedly promised by the pediatrician that he will be the healthiest first-grader in the playground. As his "raised at home" classmates fall to the ground crippled with bacteria and viruses they've never experienced, our little Titan will ride the wave of his immune system and forge ahead without so much as a sniffle.
Of course, you get what you pay for -- so, not wanting to scrimp on our son's first years of life, we have of course opted for the most expensive daycare in the area. While it's worth it in the end, this has resulted in the fascinating experience of returning to the "paycheck-to-paycheck" lifestyle we worked so hard to grow out of during the "early years". But we do it happily (at least until it's time to pay bills), knowing that he's in a place that is safe and well run - not to mention he has a place to go and babble about how weird his parents are.
Some folks tend to raise an eyebrow when I refer to his daycare as "school". The reality is that, even in the infant room, there is a great deal of learning taking place -- those we entrust with our son for forty hours a week are certainly more than "babysitters", holding him at bay until we return from our adult universe.
Whatever you call it, hoewver, sending your new precious bundle into the arms of others for the majority of the week is never an emotionally easy decision to make, or live with. Granted, in many cases such as ours the decision to put him into school came from basic economics -- where, in today's world, both parents have to work to ensure that a family can live at least slightly above poverty. While we weren't that bad off, we are certainly close enough that having a stay-at-home parent was not in the cards. Although, I for one would love to be a stay-at-home dad, so hopefully that winning scratch ticket will arrive soon!
In talking to friends with kids, those that had put their children in daycare often said that, while it was agonizing to do so, it turned out to be the best thing for the little one, and them as a family. We weren't quire sure about that, and went through our first days and weeks feeling guilty as many parents do -- but in the end we are convinced that it was the best thing we could have done.
The advantage is seen in Vampbaby's incredible ability to socialize and interact with almost anyone. Granted, he'll need to embrace a balanced attitude about strangers, but he has currently no qualms about meeting new people or being in crowds -- particularly when there are other babies around. We have in our midst a little social butterfly, completely at ease with getting to know new faces.
Also, he's been sick pretty much non-stop since June of 2005. While that doesn't sound like an advantage (and trust me, it doesn't feel like one either), we are repeatedly promised by the pediatrician that he will be the healthiest first-grader in the playground. As his "raised at home" classmates fall to the ground crippled with bacteria and viruses they've never experienced, our little Titan will ride the wave of his immune system and forge ahead without so much as a sniffle.
Of course, you get what you pay for -- so, not wanting to scrimp on our son's first years of life, we have of course opted for the most expensive daycare in the area. While it's worth it in the end, this has resulted in the fascinating experience of returning to the "paycheck-to-paycheck" lifestyle we worked so hard to grow out of during the "early years". But we do it happily (at least until it's time to pay bills), knowing that he's in a place that is safe and well run - not to mention he has a place to go and babble about how weird his parents are.
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