I kept a log during Brandi's pregnancy, an entry each week or so but never got around to posting it. I'm posting it now as Nick is headed to college, so it's available online and doesn't get lost.
Nick,
This is the log I kept for you during the pregnancy and your first month of life.
After this, it was up to your mom to take good notes. I hope you enjoy.
Love,Dad
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07/06/06 28 Weeks to Go
Dear “Pink Line” (You don’t have a name yet, and “Speck” was already taken),
We’re through the first trimester of pregnancy, and your mother and I are starting to move from “cautious optimism” to excitement. We’ve found a good doctor, and your mom’s health and spirits are in excellent condition. We will find out about your specific health in four weeks, and your gender in eight. Sorry I didn’t start writing sooner, but the first 12 weeks were all uncertainty. There’s very little uncertainty now – you’re coming!
Your mother is now sleeping with a prayer card of St. Gerard in her shorts for good luck; I think it’s not unhealthy and she’s still of sound mind, although the woman whose grocery cart your mom walked off with last week may beg to differ.
We’ve started to pull out the books and magazines we’ve collected to educate ourselves on the whole pregnancy experience. I’d much rather read up on you than watch television, although I’m settling into some “Law and Order” tonight.
Your mom is doing a wonderful job of watching her health and eating right, so if you’re healthy, thank her immensely. Oh, and give two cents of thanks to your Aunt Carrie, who insisted the local pharmacy search every store in the city for pre-natal vitamins before your mom left to visit your grandparents in Atlanta two weeks ago.
I’m going to try to keep up to date on this log for you, although it will be tough some nights to keep up with it and all the work your Uncle Jason makes me do. We had a conference call on DHD tonight, and I hope someday you’ll look back on this and say, “That was before DHD made us wealthy.”
07/17/06 26 Weeks to Go
Dear “Pink Line” (Oh yeah, this name came from the pink line on the pregnancy kit),
If you’re named “Donorfia”, then this will help you understand my inspiration.
I thought of you this past weekend as I went to Cincinnati watch the Reds play baseball all weekend. The first night your Great Uncle Jim and I sat just off the field on the first-base side of Great American Ballpark, from my superb ticket-scalping skills. On Sunday afternoon, we baked high up in the upper deck behind home plate, keeping cool in the shade of the cheap seats – it was 96 degrees in the shade. In front of us was a sweet girl, 8-and-a-half months pregnant. I asked her what the odds were of having that baby at the ballpark, thinking I could never make your mother go see baseball in the sweltering heat at the top of the stadium (unless it was the playoffs, of course.)
Your mom lost her prayer card – her shorts magically absorbed it in the night. So you’re being grown on pure faith now with no direct holy intervention. And a few more vegetables at the dinner table than usual.
You’re hearing your first stories if you’re paying attention (you should have ears at this point) as I am reading your mother the next book in the “Freddy the Golden Hamster” series. Ask her who Enrico and Caruso are, and she’ll tell you more with a smile.
The plans to prepare for you are still fuzzy – your Grandmoose may come to visit in September to prepare a room, and your Aunt Megan may come in August to hang out for moral support. They will all be here when you arrive, but not before a pre-emptive visit to hang out.
7/21/06 25 Weeks to Go
Dear “Pink Line,”
Your mother is gaining confidence now as the weeks pass. Today was the first day she swore she could see her belly start to change shape. This past weekend she thought she felt something moving, even though you’re about 3 inches long at best. Your Grandmoose has picked up the enthusiasm in the name department – I haven’t heard what they are plotting to name you, but I swear I’ll do my best to keep you from turning up named after some cheesy 17th century monarch.
Mom picked up a few books at the bookstore this weekend. Always the intellectual, she’s reading everything she can find and Googling every word she can think of researching your health and progress. (“Googling” probably won’t even be a term by the time you’re old enough to read.)
While your mother focuses on you, I stay at the tasks at hand. Your Uncle Jason makes sure I’m working all the time so there’s never a wasted minute. They took your cousin Seth on a trip to visit his elderly great-grandparents in Carolina this past weekend and he supposedly nearly wiped them out by taking over their walker at their feet. If you’re a boy, I fear the stuff you two will try together when you’re old enough to think of the crap I tried as a kid.
We’re thinking further about preparing for your arrival, with baby furniture and stuff from my childhood. The challenge will be shaking it from your grandfather’s house without a battle – the retiree is set in his ways and change is not his favorite thing. Don’t worry – we’ll all be ready when you get here. I ‘m gonna miss my weekend naps when you arrive! If your grandfather could talk top you now, I know exactly what he’d tell you: the Tigers won tonite 9-7. Get used to the daily scores, kid, whether you’re a boy or a girl.
Aunt Carrie sent each of us a beautiful card – your mother received one with a flock of watchful sheep on the front. It’s made a good replacement for St. Gerard, who remains on the front of the milk carton. Mine was made from her crap book trimmings, which I wasn’t sharp enough to notice. I suppose it’s a compliment that the card was so impressive it looked like it came from a store. The picture of me on the cover never gave it away.
7/28/06 24 Weeks to Go
Your mother has had cervical pain for the past few days and been very worried. (Not that worrying is a new thing for her.) This morning she visited her doctor a few days sooner than her appointment. A few tests and a couple really neat pictures of you feet revealed you’re healthy and doing great! You’re about six inches long, and a real mover. During the appointment, Mom says you kicked, punched, rolled, and “scooted on your butt” the entire time pictures were being taken. But she still cannot feel a thing. It seems she has a thick pad around you for a skinny girl, so it may be awhile before we can feel you. But be assured, we can see you!
The early word is that you will be a boy, which choked me up just a little. It’s the first time in the pregnancy I’ve been more than cautiously optimistic, and truly excited. My only concern is your health, but just possibly knowing your gender makes me feel like I know you a little better. And admittedly, the thought of passing on the family name crossed my mind. I will share the news with your grandfather tomorrow. (By the way, he would want you to know the Tigers won tonite 3-2 in 10 innings, and are 69-33 after 102 games, and 8½ games in first place. Best in the majors.)
Finally, your mom wanted to look through names tonite, and boy names took the precedence. Here’s her favorites: Nolan, Justin, Joel, Grant, Wesley, Weston, Leonith, Brock "Give me the football" Mantel, Colin, Harold (Harry), Vincent, Waylon, Heath, Morgan, Zara, Lilliana, Joelle. I was ever impressed when she could relate Eli and Peyton to the Manning brothers, and that they were football players. Then she struggled to remember their respective teams; “I can see their little outfits”, she said, remembering the Colts at least. Close enough.
8/05/06 23 Weeks to Go
This has been a tough week, as tests revealed your mother is at a high risk to pass on some birth defects to you. Dr. Soudabeh Ahadi’s office didn’t handle the situation all that well, passing on positive test results, then making us wait two days for an appointment. But I finally got a chance to see you face-to-face yesterday, and just from peering in at you, all appears to be well. We will get more expert opinions in the coming weeks. For now, the odds are that you are fine. This is the first we’ve noticed her beginning to “pouch” a little and looking pregnant. That’s very assuring. The steady diet of humus, licorice, and pickles has picked up considerably.
We have reached the point where you’re a “sure thing” and there’s no guessing whether or not you’re on the way. Your Uncle Jason is excited that you’re a boy – he’s gonna need extra help running all of these companies he’s starting, and Seth is going to need a partner. I’m hoping you’re good with Sales – that’s our weak spot at the moment.
As an update to all those companies, CEO is still in progress, and with at least 2 potential clients, they’re ready when we can give them the time. vCardination is almost built, and should go live this fall. I’ve given it very little time, but my contribution is coming soon. And NAID Systems is still in the hands of several investor groups, all trying to decide what to do with us. Uncle Jason found another one this week.
Otherwise it’s been quiet with your mom just hanging out, being the “professional pod” as I call her. Her friends have been showering her with cards and support, and the word of your pending arrival is getting out quick. Right now you’re scheduled for a January 13th 2007 arrival, but the small women in the family tend to deliver early. Maybe you’ll be our Christmas gift. If your birthday coincides with Christmas and you get fewer gifts in your life because of it, it’s my fault. I wasn’t planning it that way, and you’ll come to find I don’t miss much, so I’ll make that one up to you somehow.
8/14/06 22 Weeks to Go
We made another visit to the doctor this week – a specialist at Oakwood Hospital in Dearborn, MI who says you appear to be healthy as a horse and there’s no worry to be had. You apparently take after me already, as we couldn’t get you to flip in the direction of the ultra-sound camera for a clear photo; we had to stroll up and down the hall and prod you several times to get you to turn towards us. If you don’t like your picture to be taken, that apparently started at a very early age.
There seems to be a great debate over your age. We can tell likely down to the day how old you are, but between the regular doctor and the hospital, there’s as much as a three week difference. They keep saying “we don’t worry if it’s not more than 10 days,” but I can do the math, and they’ve been doing testing as much as 2-3 weeks early in our estimate. So all testing is out the window, and you could be born anywhere from Thanksgiving to Memorial Day, according to the experts.
Your mom is eating as a blistering pace now, as we have increased our grocery budget by 50%. Much of that is in pickles, chips, salsa, and the new craving – hard boiled eggs. To the tune of 2-3 dozen each week. Gotta have protein, right?
8/21/06 21 Weeks to Go
This is the week your mom begins to outgrow her clothes. She can manage skirts for church just fine, but we’re down to my sweats for around the house. Your Aunt Megan is supposed to ship us some maternity pants. We’ll need those soon before she’s living in a bed sheet.
She’s also just beginning to feel regular movement as you shift positions from time to time. Based on the early outlook, you’re going to be an NFL place kicker as a profession. Laces out! (Ask your uncle Jason, the movie buff, what that means. He won’t remember your name, but he’ll quote a movie from the 1980s like he wrote the script. It’s a selective disease. (It’s commonly referred to as “marriage” in most men, but admittedly, he’s had it for years well before he said, “I do”.)
She’s also not sleeping now, or at least not with the day shift. She’s getting to sleep between 6 and 7 AM and waking up after noon. What is up with this schedule, kid? Can you only grow in the morning hours?
Your mom attempted her first homemade chocolate mousse this week. It was history repeating itself – the chocolate “seized up” (that’s an official term for the state of stiff chocolate) and near ended up in the back yard… a re-enactment of your grandmother Mantel sending a pie crust into flight across the backyard 30 years earlier. I knew something was afoot in the kitchen when I heard her vocabulary shift into newly charted territory. Funny as it is, I recognized those terms from using them just hours earlier when my computer refused to cooperate.
8/30/06 20 Weeks to Go
We found some maternity pants finally. At 20 weeks down and 20 to go, there’s no question we’re pregnant now. If it’s not you in there, then there’s one heckuva something growing in there that can’t be good.
Prego memory continues, which provides me with entertainment. Your mother can’t remember to shut a car door now, so she’s becoming more dependent. She wanders laps through the house trying to remember where she was headed to start.
The egg economy continues to have a ridiculous boon as your mom consumes dozens a week. Seems a little wasteful that she only likes the whites, but hey, you’re getting good stuff out of the deal, at less than $0.90 per dozen. (A little better economic cost-to-benefit ratio than the $40 vitamins I picked up this week.)
I felt you kicking for the first time this week. And ok, I jumped. I guess there’s no way to prepare for something inside you wife to start making a ruckus. I’ve seen Alien, and it apparently warped me on some level permanently. She’s been sleeping on the couch more frequently, the last couple days because I’ve been a little sick, but she woke up the other morning and said you were moving in all directions – for over 45 minutes. Most of the time you face toward the caboose and keep rather still. When you decide to make your presence known, however, your mother’s womb isn’t large enough to hide the activity.
This weekend will be a continuation of the last as we clean out you grandfather’s attic. Brandi likes the highchair and some of the toys from both my childhood and your grandpa’s. So it looks like when you start eating upright, you’ll be doing it in a third-generation chair. We’ll see what else we find up there in that old attic – most of it is likely headed for the dumpster. Know that your mom will not be doing hard labor – she’ll be in her usual throne of supervision, with an O’Douls in hand and passing out orders.
9/07/06 19 Weeks to Go
This week is another landmark for you. No, not the halfway mark; that was last week. We can’t yet measure your height in “feet” (you’re only 10 inches) and we can’t measure your age in “years” (which doesn’t begin until sometime after you’ve been roaming the earth on your own for over 24 months), but your weight can now be listed in pounds – you are officially one pound! And cramming that entire pound into every one of your mother’s organs within reach. She has stopped showing progressive signs of pregnancy because you’ve decided to camp out under her lungs. Instead of her belly growing out forward, you’re tilting upward toward her diaphragm. So, she hardly looks pregnant. Which, she’s kinda thrilled to still look thin.
Your Great Aunt Peggy is crafting away on your first blanket, a tradition. She is crocheting it from her own creativity, so it will be special. I promise never to trash your first blanket no matter how nasty it gets. I never forgave my mother for disposing of my “binky” before I was ready to part with it.
9/14/06 18 Weeks to Go
Aunt Megan and Mom spent all night online last week bidding on E-Bay against a stranger for a box of maternity clothes. Somehow finding a box full of mommy outfits (which are really expensive) that was a size that fits them both, they outbid this person whose handle was something gruff like “Bid Queen” at $120 for a box of well kept clothes. When they arrived, they were well cleaned, folded, and like new. Sounds like these will get a couple good uses. Jason and Megan may try to keep you from being the youngest grandchild in the family.
This weekend we went to Babies-R-Us to see what kind of things someone can buy for a baby. There’s a lot more out there than the bare necessity, that’s for sure. I love marketing – even I got sucked into the Jeep® brand stroller. But I only lasted about a half hour, and decided that it was a better idea to have Brandi do the actual “Shower registration” on her own. She came back with Angela and spent 6 hours beeping all kinds of neat-o goodies with the radar gun.
9/20/06 17 Weeks to Go
With you continuing to put your best everything forward a little more each day, you mom likes to have her belly rubbed. You’ve been sticking a foot in every organ still, driving your mother crazy. I think we’ve reached the point three months early where having a little body is starting to show you’re going to outgrow your current living space sooner than expected.
9/28/06 16 Weeks to Go
The buzz over a name has heated up. Why is this such a hot topic with everyone? “Nick Mantel” seems to be a favorite. When someone tells me it sounds like a shortstop, I’m sold. I always preferred being a middle-infielder, although the talent for that lies with your Great Uncle Jim. I was lucky to get on the field.
Most of the folks with whom I work – Robin, Nicole, Julie, Pam, Lou and Dave - now know you are on the way. I was quiet for awhile to be sure all was well, but now it appears we are in the clear. I left pictures of you on my desk, and everyone wanted to see.
Your mom had one unusual adventure this week – spurting blood through her nose into a plate of pasta at the Olive Garden during lunch. It turns out the headaches she’s been having are due to high blood pressure, and we’re going to have to limit her activity even a little more. There’s no real danger to either of you, just discomfort. This may be contributing to her sleep as well – her patterns are now reversed, sleeping all day and being awake all night. The norm wasn’t much different from that before this pregnancy, anyway.
10/08/06 15 Weeks to Go
Whatever it is in the water promoting babies has continued to spread – Stephanie and Mark Vanderpoel are now pregnant as well, making them the last “couple” from BGSU to aggressively prepare for parenthood. That will be Kankeys, Hasselbachs, us and Vanderpoels all with kids less than a year apart. I suppose we’ve all recovered from grad school enough to procreate.
The prego-brain continues, as your mom forgets the simplest things. Really, it’s more cute than anything. She now hands me work-related documentation for filing, and it has McDonalds French fries grease stains on it. This past weekend I had to make hamburger run in the middle of the night for an emergency craving.
I reneged on my first entry already. I did not make your pregnant mother attend a playoff baseball game. Jay and I went to the first game of the ALDS in Detroit against New York this weekend. It was the best game I ever attended. And I couldn’t bare the thought of dragging your mom through the crowds and up to a high deck seat (behind home plate – excellent view!)
10/12/06 14 Weeks to Go
You grandfather would want me to tell you that the Tigers beat the A’s tonite 3-0, and are one win away from the World Series. If you can get here a little early, maybe you’ll be born the same year they win the big one, but if not, no hurry – the pitching staff is stacked and should win it for years to come.
This week we found out you are 2 pounds. So if you were first class corned beef, you’d be worth about $11.98 ($6.99 a pound is the going rate these days.) These were the best pictures we‘ve seen of you yet, yawning and moving around a lot.
As the nesting continues, everything is now going into Space Bags – these plastic bags that get the air sucked out of them with a vacuum to make more space. We’re not that short on space to make room for you, but your mother has this urge to put everything we own into a bag. I suppose subconsciously it’s a “sterile” thing.
10/19/06 13 Weeks to Go
We found out this week your mother is a mutant. She has some combination of C1677 gene mutation from both parents that could be a sign of likelihood to blood clotting. When they checked her homocystine levels for folic acid, she seemed ok. All this is related to her feeling something similar to a contraction this week, and heading back to the doctor. It appears all is still well
She said she felt your “first hiccup” this week. Different from kicking, you’re starting to make more pronounced motions. At about 2.5 pounds, the growth spurt begins here. All is well for now; we may juts need to hold you at bay a little longer of you decide to arrive early. Trust me – stay in there as long as you can. Once you come out, it’s only work to survive.
11/01/06 11 Weeks to Go
Dear Pod,
Your Grandmoose and Aunt Megan are visiting this week. And I’m getting a good practice run with your cousin Seth. I can’t help but picture the two of someday asking for the keys to the Corvette and not coming home until well after your curfew. I’m almost afraid you’ll be too close.
Right now your first room is getting a good coat of paint. Your mother did a wonderful job of selecting Michigan colors, but I don’t intend to plaster a huge “M” on your wall just yet.
This past weekend was the baby shower and we have a garage full of stuff. I had no idea you couldn’t survive without thousands of dollars of jumpers, toys, clothes and equipment. It looks like we’ve opened a baby store in the garage. I spent most of the time herding your cousin Seth as he explored the place, and found a vacuum cleaner he couldn’t resist. He’s been the best experience this past week as I get to practice the herding ritual. If he keeps this energy up, you’re going to have a buddy to run with to no end.
And no more baseball updates – the season is over. But the Tigers won the American League before losing to the Cardinals in the World Series. Before your time, I know, but I spent a lot of nights checking the scores while I wrote in this log. So there’s some great memories.
11/08/06 10 Weeks to Go
Watching TV with Grandmoose and you mom, prego-brain unveiled another classis moment. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” was rolling the credits after we’d watched the last hour or so. Your Grandmoose says, “I didn’t know Buddy Ebsen was in this movie.” You mother replies, “Yeah he’s the little Chinese guy.” Recall, Buddy Ebson was a near 7-foot Caucasian action on the “Beverly Hillbillies” so if he played a short Chinese guy in a movie, he deserves an Oscar. Ask your mom who Buddy Ebsen is.
Your mom and I sleep in the same bed rarely lately since the bed has become uncomfortable for her. She’s sleeping better upright in the chair by the TV. But last night we went to bed together, and I couldn’t sleep for a change – because you kept kicking me. Once you’re born we’re going to isolate you in a little bed in between us, but for the moment, if I get too close, there’s no stopping you from kicking in whichever direction you choose.
11/16/06 9 Weeks to Go
You Grandfather and I got your crib setup this weekend. It wasn’t rocket science, but we may be getting too close to a birth to wait any longer. Your mom spends a lot of time setting up the nursery, and it’s the last piece of furniture before she starts on the details.
We’re also starting watch those freaky birthing videos that at least save us from taking an actual Lamaze class. They’re hosted by this miserably annoying woman from Jersey, who can’t resist wanting to reach through the TV and strangle. Now, this is a lesson that hostility, and being uncontrolled at that, is not a good thing. Fortunately I can control this woman with the “Power” button. She’s condescending to the participants and her jokes are not funny. Good thing I’m not at the class or I would have clashed with someone like that. In person, you can’t hit “Pause” and mock them to make you feel better.
11/25/05 Somewhere between 8 and 0 weeks to Go
I went into work on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and didn’t call your mother until late in the afternoon, ay which time she had already felt contractions for 24 hours, been to the doctor, and was headed to the hospital. She spent the night at Mercy Memorial in Monroe, where they slowed the contractions by midnight after a couple attempts. We’re in no hurry for your arrival if it means you can cook a little longer and come into the world a little stronger. At 4.2 pounds this week, you’ve become a force to reckon with.
So we had our 6th Anniversary dinner in the hospital, which seems to be a regular November ritual for us nowadays. I watched a little football on the small television in between staring at the little paper monitor for changes in your mother’s contraction pattern. (By the way, we were rooting for Notre Dame to beat USC. That’s not normal, so don’t do that unless it’s an emergency.)
11/30/06 7 Weeks to Go
With a little medication and some great persistence by your mom, you’re not here yet. It’s been a miserable week for her trying to hold a birth at bay, but she’s done it, and you’ve been delayed at least another week. We’re at that stage now where she swears she can’t get any bigger, but she manages to do so, what seems like every day. I took another picture this week, so you’ll be able to see what she looked like at this point. Very cute, in my opinion.
The debate over name has heated up, and “Nolan” and “Nicholas” have made it to the finals. Middle names are “James” or “Jeffrey.” Would I be surprised if you read this someday and say, “Then how did I end up as “Ralph”? Well, not quite, but we’re holding onto the idea that what you look like will play a role in the final decision.
12/06/06 6 Weeks to Go
After months of refusing to look at the scale at the doctor’s office, your mom peeked this week when I went along for the appointment, and tipped the scales at 135 pounds. (That’s sarcasm as she’s yet to weigh as much as an average adult woman, and she’s nearly 8 months pregnant.) We started measuring her stomach for fun, and she stretched from 37 to 38 inches in a week. There’s a little comfort in knowing her waist is larger than mine at the moment, and relief in knowing it’s only a temporary thing. She’s beginning to have trouble with usual tasks: getting pants on, tying shoes, and generally bending over to pick anything up.
There’s a buzz over what you will look like. Look at your mother and I and there’s no two more different people in features (light skin and red hair versus olive skin and dark hair.) Can’t wait to confirm your handsome (look like your mother.)
12/13/06 5 Weeks to Go
We’re at the next phase of pregnancy where your mom simply wants it to be over with. The discomfort has gotten more regular now, but at least she’s sleeping, albeit some days from 6 AM to 2 PM. She’s up many nights, usually for me to make a run to the store for Swedish Fish, Nerds or chocolate.
The ultra-sound this week is the most impressive yet, as expected. You have pudgy cheeks and lips, and although I can’t see it, your mom and doctor swear you have hair. There’s a buzz about as to what you will look like, since your mom and I have vastly different characteristics.
This week on my way home from visiting some old coworkers from Maritz, I got a call from your mother. (Not THE call. Yet.) She doesn’t say hello, but instead, “I’m huge, I hurt and I want Chinese!” That craving shifted to Chicken McNuggets by the time we left the house, but nonetheless, cravings continue. No container of onion chip dip is safe.
We baked cookies for my company cookie exchange today. Five hours last night of baking until the smell of molasses made us sick. And decorating today. We had Michal Jackson cookies (too much flower) Bob Newhart cookies (so your mom said by the face I drew in icing) and cookie faces that looked like they were on crack. And I made a cookie for your Uncle Jason as well, which I will describe to you when you’re 21.
12/20/06 4 Weeks to Go
We had our last injection this week. So seven days from now, when it wears off, there will be nothing holding you back. Mom has been practicing her swaddling technique on one of the sheep – I think the purple sheep’s name is Lavender. He’s been wrapped tight for a couple weeks, and is probably tire of being wrapped and unwrapped, but she’s really got the hang of it.
“The woman adds no redeemable value to society and nothing to my quality of life. I could give a shit. She’s a clothes hanger.” This would be your mother’s latest pregnant rage as she shot down your grandmother trying to make conversation about some celebrity riff between Donald Trump, Rosie O’Donnell, and Miss USA. Clearly she was in rare form today, as the anger management continues awaiting the birth.
12/27/06 3 Weeks to Go
After the holidays and making rounds so everyone could see your mother pregnant, all was quiet. Your mother’s belly has now taken on a mind of its own, knocking over plates, running into people, and generally collecting remnants of anything that has even been lifted to her face. She is very “blump” is her word, which I think is a combination of “blimp” and “plump.”
We did a little more baby shopping, where I got all new $20 bills from the money machine again (can’t spend those!) and your mother kindly volunteered to “lick and crumple them” for me so we could spend them.
Thursday was a day to rest a little and get some work done, but instead was spent in bed comparing contractions between your parents – I woke up with a kidney stone, and spent the morning in the hospital. True sympathy pains. We spent the day in bed with a bag of dry cereal and Vicotin. It was actually very relaxing.
After our appointment on Friday, it was concluded the wait is over and we will induce your birth on Monday, January 1. I will miss the infamous “tax deduction” for 2006, but like the past generation when my birth cost your grandfather double-time on a Sunday, an expensive baby is no comparison to a healthy one, and that’s the goal. At around 7 pounds or more, you’re going to be plenty big enough.
We finished your room with a few last touches of paint, black wall-mount boxes to hold the video monitor, and hanging pictures and crosses.
01/01/06 2 Weeks or Less to Go
Well, I’m still writing which means you are not here yet. The doctor had an emergency and your arrival has been delayed until Thursday. So now it’s looking like you’ll have a birthday of January 4. Your mom has swollen feet and ankles and can’t walk; and a soar back so she can’t lie down, and can’t hold much food because you have monopolized the space in her tummy.
01/05/07 Day 1: Welcome to your first day!
We arrived at Monroe Mercy Hospital ay 6:00 AM on Thursday morning. It would be 19 hours before you joined the party, or 18 hours of labor. Welcome to the VERY first day of the rest of your life.
Your mother hallucinated three times thanks to the meds. There were frogs in her flowers, errant rice at a wedding where it didn’t belong (not sure if that was part of the meal or the throwing-rice), and all the pain was “due to him buying that damn fur coat. She didn’t need it!” (Don’t know what any of this means, but it is payback material for Aunt Megan who gave us investment tips during Seth’s birth.)
I enjoyed a hospital lunch with a woman who talked to her food, snorted a lot, and wore a little blue stocking cap similar to yours (but not as cute.) Here was the day’s schedule.
- Brandi was induced at 7:00 AM
- Dr. Ahadi broke her water at 10:00 AM, when she was at just one centimeter
- The first Epidural was installed at 1:00 PM, which gave her two hours of reasonable comfort.
- The first bolus was at 4:00 PM and only 2 centimeters. Turns out the original epidural didn’t stay in, and needed to be reinstated. This was the only bummer of the day, when the Anesthesiologist left Brandi hurting for over an hour unnecessarily.
- After the pain calmed, a two hour nap moved her to 10 centimeters, and ready to push. Pushing began at 11:00 PM.
- The first hour had some pain, and the second hour went smoother. Your little head dropped into place rather easily, and you were born at 12:55 AM.
Emily was the first nurse, and was a motherly figure for the first 12 hours. Andrea was the nurse that delivered you, and was one heckuva motivator. Both women were absolutely fantastic and you know it’s true when you can’t imagine doing it all over again without them.
The first thought when you arrived was, “Perfect.” You never made a sound, never left the room for the nursery. Your health was perfect, your condition was perfect, and so was your size. At 7 pounds and 9 ounces, and 20.5 inches, you were a healthy size for a small mom to deliver. Coincidentally, you were also the largest baby to date amongst all of our friends. (Remember this for future – you were taller than Seth at birth because that may be the only time in your life you’re taller than him!) There’s a little red in your hair, but it’s dark. And for the few people who have seen you, the consensus is that you look like me. Poor kid!
The first call we made after your birth was to your Aunt Megan, who stayed awake for the news. Then we called Grandpa Mantel to tell him. The last was to Aunt Carrie, who was already asleep and could have gone without knowing for a few more hours. J
Grandma Sue Barton came to the hospital to visit for a couple hours before your delivery. And Grandpa Earl was the first visitor after you were born, although you were out of the room for shots when he came by. He took your picture in the nursery window, and you wiggled when the flash went off on his camera.
All that remains is a name. We’ve narrowed it down to two, so by tomorrow (when the birth certificate must be completed) you will have a nametag. Today was the first day in 9 months when we prayed at dinner and didn’t, “bless the pod”. You’re not a pod anymore, you’re a little man.
01/06/07 Day 2
Hello, Nicholas Jeffrey. The decision was made yesterday evening, and Grandma Sue was the first to hear it. There’s a still a chance it could change as Uncle Sam hasn’t heard it yet, but I doubt it.
Grandpa Mantel came to visit you in the hospital this morning. He is so proud! Although he was a little disappointed I didn’t read you the sports section this morning from the newspaper. It was a slow sports day – not much to read. And Grandpa Earl keeps checking on you to be sure you’re doing well. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you!
I find myself using the term “strong” a lot when talking about you. Tonight was your first night at home. You laid on my chest on the “the big couch” and slept most of the night – I had the shift until 4:30 AM. We didn’t leave you alone on the first night. You lifted your head from my chest, facing left, opened the right eye (your mother calls that the pirate eye) looked at me, yawned, and laid your head to the right. Now I thought newborn babies couldn’t lift their head. But you don’t seem to be aware of that.
You make little squeaking noises all the time that sound like the baby dinosaur in the movie Jurassic Park. We’ve nicknamed you “Nickosaurus.”
The first night at home was not unusual. I read the book on babies, so I know that checking to make sure you are breathing every five minutes is normal. Your little nose was rubbed raw by the bulb syringe at birth so your breathing has been a little stressed. That makes us stressed.
1/07/07 Day 3
You’re still a little yellow, so the blood tests continue. Your mom cried when they poked you foot again today. We feel like you’ve been tortured ever since you popped out. You never look real happy when your asleep and dreaming, but then again, the only memories to process since you were born are circumcision, being shoved into the world and manhandled (albeit by a cute nurse, which you will appreciate someday), and a ton of injections. So what’s to sweet dream about?
We did a video conference with the family in Atlanta so Grandmoose, Grandba, Aunt Megan and Uncle Jason could meet you. You gave them a smile, a yawn, a little whimpering, some squeaks, and about 10 good minutes. We’ll be breaking you into public speaking early. I will be reminding you someday that audiences didn’t bother you when you were born.
When you wrinkle your brow, we call that “Seth Face.” Sorry, but your cousin has the market cornered on that expression already.
1/08/07 Day 4
Back to the hospital today for tests. The old people just love you – we were stopped by a couple in their eighties to woo all over you. And you seem to enjoy rides in the car – not a peep. We’ve expanded on this idea and have you sleeping a little at night in the car seat. It keeps you tucked in so you can’t run away.
Grandma Sue came over to watch the Ohio State v Florida game with you this evening. It was the National Championship. If you don’t know who you were rooting for and against when you read this, I’ve failed as a parent.
We sent out the birth announcement via email today to everyone who has been eagerly waiting. We included the pirate eye picture in your busy beaver outfit (compliments of Aunt Miranda, who bought the outfit that you came home in) and one of all of us that Angela took in the hospital. John Morrison says you look like me – but unlike everyone else, he used his computer to put a beard on your photograph.
1/09/07 Day 5
You had the hiccups a lot in the womb all throughout the pregnancy. Hasn’t changed. You get them almost daily, usually when you get excited.
Your entire first week has been blood tests to be sure you’re ok, but for sure, you’ve proven you are a tough little man. You rarely make a noise when nurses draw blood. It was warm when you were born, especially for January, but simply bitter cold for the first week after – all the trips outside to the doctor. You’ve been bundled up in the blanket your great-Aunt Peggy made for you.
1/25/07 3 Weeks
You met your cousin Seth this week, and one picture of the three of us together does exist. Seth was unsure about you, and even up until he left, was cautious to get too close.
You also met your Grandmoose and Grandba, who loved sitting with you. You sat with Grandba for hours while he kissed your head and dreamt of running you out into a tree stand as soon as you can walk. I had him look over your guns – which are from your great-great-grandfather Golembiewski, who used them to shoot anything that came near his chickens – and they will be ready for you to use when you’re ready.
You have more beds than any one person on the planet: a crib (which Seth enjoyed this week, thank you), your mom’s old bassinette, your travel seat, your swing (from Aunt Megan), a portable Eddie Bauer bed (expensive shoebox) and now a bedside bassinette. And you won’t sleep more than an hour in any of them! We spend most nights awake in the TV room with you, and your mom takes most of those long shifts. She lets me get sleep for work during the week.
Turns out I got the double bonus for naming you Nicholas, as your great grandparents Nicholsons were pleased with the name and traditional spelling. We’ve ensured there’s no reason anyone should hold you out of their will.
1/31/07 4 Weeks
You’re almost a month old, and being short on sleep, coupled with family visitors, has limited my ability to write. You’ve met so many people, I can’t name them all.
You love to have the hair dryer to dry you off after a bath. Your mom has moved you from a little “barf-tub” to the sink to the tub to a baby tub. She’s got a routine now, and doesn’t need my help anymore.
You have a favorite pacifier which is your orange Nuk but something tells me you could go without one at all. Your Grandpa won’t let you have it, and you don’t care.
You made your first “medicine face” today we gave you a little medicine to help you digest. It’s nothing serious. We spent last night in the hospital with you, since you were choking a little, but they concluded you have a little acid reflux – normal for a baby – and you’re still a healthy little man.
You keep adopting nicknames – Nickosaurus, SuarusBoy, Squeaker, MeltdownBoy – it all depends on your mood, really.
There’s been an incredible outpouring of love and support from friends since your birth. Your cousin Moriah sent you a sheep from her childhood, and your cousin Carrie made you a piece of artwork she drew herself (that’s on my desk – it looked nice so I swiped it!) Somewhere there’s a box with at least 50 cards or more, and the emails are plenty. Your great-Grandma Mantel sent you $500 to start your college fund. Don’t know what that will buy someday, but that money got you started. She’s almost 90 years old, and you might never remember her (we’re hoping you meet her soon), but if not, she’s played a part in your education.
2/28/07 8 Weeks
It’s been a busy first two months, and your mom has started to keep a log for you. So I stopped writing, and this log will probably slow or stop completely. But here’s some thoughts from your first two months. As I write this, you are sprawled out on the bed behind me, with Hewlett the Lamb helping to hold your Nuk in place. You needed a little assistance.
- Your favorite toys are “phunt” and “raffe” who hang from a little playspot on the floor. You’ve started recognizing people and things in the past 2 weeks, and are now a lot more fun to play with!
- Your best mornings are with your Grandpa Mantel, who spends all morning talking to you, encouraging you to burp and poo (with real-life examples of the former) and carrying you all over the house. He’s the best stimulation you get – when you learn to talk, it will probably sound like him.
- You have your own weblog on the Internet, and probably about 50 visitors who watch for your pictures to be posted monthly.
- You finally met your Grand-Judy. It was one day, and she thought you were adorable, just like everyone else. (We survived.)
- Your biggest adventure was to a Baby Shower for Stephanie VanderPoel, where you were quiet and sweet, and met a table full of other babies your age. Steph gave birth just this week to Evan. Maybe when you read this, you’ll still know him.
