House of the Rising Son

Hugo’s site seems to grow in one-month increments… every day.  We look up and another week has passed!  Some moments are treacherous, others are (for lack of a better word) priceless.  The smiles and stare-offs often lead to mental meanders about how brilliantly orchestrated our global existence has been.  Three months down the line, I wonder why we couldn’t leave the hospital without watching videos about not shaking the baby; sometimes a mild shake is the only motion that leads him to sleep.  I muse at the ergonomics that placed a nipple in the crux of an elbow—exactly where a baby with no sight can find a source for all its sustenance.  Smiles are some of the first human facial expressions; we are all gifted with innate abilities to coax a meal from the sleepless.  It’s too easy to take for granted until observed through the eyes of parents.  The time has been sacred and the words are lacking!

 

What month??



There's nothing like a running time stamp to remind a person how fast time blows by... the last entry dates back to one month ago!  Those of you who already have children are probably giggling at how much we have yet to learn!  Among other things, in one month, Hugo has:

Taken a trip to Seattle

Daddy recklessly suggested a trip to Seattle that proved to be both fun and stressful... Hugo kept his cool better than both parents combined!  A good time was had by all--despite the fact that Hugo caught a severe case of wanderlust along the way.  Perhaps, one day, he'll make a fine city chap; we hope it will be Paris.

Hugo brings out the sunshine down by the ocean



Another Room With A View



Modeled hand-stitched baby clothing made by great-grandmas and great-great-grandmothers



I'm too sexy for my crib...



There is nothing better than hand-me-down baby clothing that has traversed thousands of miles and several generations.  My mother handed some down with direct instructions that the clothes (hand-stitched by old French ladies) were to be worn for photo shoots only and promptly repacked for another generation!  Who's next?!

Melted our hearts and proven to be the best baby that we've ever had

 

No news is good news

Home is precisely what the doctor ordered!  It's been nearly a week since our return and not much has happened; we've put a sign on the door to assure that we aren't disturbed, we've only had a couple visitors, we're falling into a comfortable and sometimes challenging routine.  All is well!  I find myself wondering when I'll be ready to see people again--things are so nice on Planet Baby!  Anyways, since we aren't letting you in, we'll shoot some more photos out there~

Better late than never

Who wants to go home?

We finally made it home!!  It turns out that our discharge from the hospital was complete at 1 pm yesterday; due to a lack of communication, we didn't get out until 9 pm!  Staff must have thought that we didn't "really" want to leave.  All is well that ends well!  We are probably going to board up the doors and windows at home for a week until we've settled into a normal, human routine.  Hopefully those who are dying to see Hugo will be able to forgive us for the wait.  What a couple of weeks: anything to make sure that both baby and mama are comfortable and healthy!

The face of things to come

Home is where the heart is

The peak of hospital efficiency has passed; the more we stay here, the worse we feel.  Hugo spent a couple nights in NICU before the staff felt comfortable letting him out.  His blood culture didn't show any serious oddities and his antibiotics were completely administered.  Last night, we were all reuinited in "our room" for a fairly peaceful night.  Amy was supposed to be discharged by midnight but ended up "needing" observation for a little longer because her blood pressure is high.  In my unprofessional opinion, anyone who has spent 9 months gestating, 5 days contracting, undergone a surgery, and then heard that their first-born son might be sick should have an elevated blood pressure.  What I would prescribe is a calm ride home and sleep, sleep, eat, sleep for a week straight.  Hugo is on the verge of being discharged and is napping a bunch with Ma in the meantime.  We were glad to show up here and we'll be even happier to get the "all clear" signal!

"our room" with a view

 

I just ran into a buddy down the hall whose wife is presently in labor.  I'm starting to feel like I live here and need to greet people!  Seeing him reminds me of where we were at just a week ago.  A week ago, going on six months!  All in due time--the important part of the equation is that both mother and child (although distressed) are in fine health.  Nothing some rest, nutrition, and calm won't fix!

Not out of the woods yet

Plan B turned into plan C quickly.  Hugo's glucose levels dipped to 32 on Saturday afternoon and caused some forehead wrinkles around the wing--anything under 50 causes concern.  The doctors believe that either Hugo isn't assimilating his diet properly or there could be a blood infection.  He has mild jaundice, a treatable condition that didn't cause much worry, but not knowing what was affecting him was very scary.  He has submitted a blood sample for analysis and remains transferred to NICU--newborn intensive care unit.  Seeing our newborn son connected to machines was not how we imagined things would be.  We have outgrown the initial panic that overtook us because most of his tests have turned out fine; we await the results of a blood infection test but so far no news--which is good news--has surfaced.  He will certainly remain in close observation with glucose IV until Monday evening but there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel; what a tunnel it has been! 

I don't feel so hot, ma...

La Belle Famille!



Part Two--When the Ship Goes Down

“You’ve done your best; mama’s done even better; birth isn’t moving fast enough; the midwife hasn’t been here enough; it’s time to get your lady to the hospital.”

-Matt’s heart to Matt’s head

Sometimes, little voices speak into your ears; quiet, soft, messages of love and fear and caution.  After trying to birth at home for four consecutive days, the voices grew more audible.  Our confidence in the midwife was shaky (at best), contractions and dilations weren’t going anywhere quick, and mother’s energy and pain was becoming a concern—even for those prepared for the throes of childbirth.

St. Pete’s quickly checked us in and took us to one of their laboring rooms.  Our obstetrician, Jack, treated us very well right away (and still does) and gave us our most objective and accurate insight into our status quo.  Our birth landed in the “failure to progress” categories; labor can continue on and on and on until the mother finally collapses or until the uterus exhausts itself and quits pushing.  We were in the right place and none too early; Amy was dilated to 7 cm.  Jack punctured her bag of waters and the wait began.  Shortly after, baby’s heart-rate dropped to 50-60 bpm, causing an armada of Hippocratians to descend on the nativity scene.  Five minutes later—with the heartbeat stabilized at 130—we were discussing how wise (or unwise) it would be to continue laboring with the hope of a vaginal birth. 

Men (despite their best intentions) are handicapped in their judgments regarding these kinds of decisions.  100 hours of muscle spasms is no joke.  You can’t sleep at night when your gut is cramping up.  It’s hard to eat.  Any man can add up this many negatives and accept that surgery may be the most comfortable way to spare a mother and save a child.  We had as much faith in the hands we were in as anyone could hope for when facing these mental and physical conditions; and there is no regret.

Hugo Etienne VanOppedahl was born by cesarean at 00:24 AM on Thursday, February 24th, 2011.  He weighed 6 lbs, 9 oz, and measured 18.75 inches from head to toe.  As could be expected, his hair is quite dark, and he may end up being a supermodel later on in life.  Both mother and son spent an hour in observation to assure that their eventual transfer to “our room” would be satisfactory.  The séjour could not have been more hospitable, contrarily to my initial suspicion of most things hospital.  The slow climb back to normalcy and health began.  Unknowingly, we could not have been in a better place—even if we called it Plan B.



First night as parents in "our room"



Hugo's first capture on "film"

First family photo



Hugo's first bath