Dear Benjamin,

Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today is THE day! Your first birthday! Yay!

You started the day by waking around...6? 6:30? You played in your crib until roughly 7:15. Because today is daddy's sleep-in day (Technically it's his day...depending upon my Friday, sometimes it's my day), I got you out of bed myself. (Generally, your wake up routine involves both of us, because neither of us can stand not being there, but on weekends, when we're both completely hungover from a week of sleep-deprivation, we're willing to forego a wakening in exchange for a few extra hours in bed.)

I came into your room singing "Happy Birthday," which of course you didn't recognize because it's never been sung to you before, so you merely greeted the day the same way you always do, which is by holding onto the rails of your crib and bouncing. You're such a morning baby! You obviously take after your father this way.

Anyway. . .

After a lot of bouncing and opening of blinds and saying good morning to the front yard, and to the neighborhood, I changed your diaper. (It was messy.) Then we headed to the kitchen for breakfast. You ate oatmeal and pears in a jar, some chopped banana (your favorite!), and then washed it all down with a sippy cup of milk.

Then we played in your room. You squeaked your crocodile at me (actually, I think it's an alligator, but because of the comic, Pearls Before Swine, all green, dragon-like animals will forever be referred to as crocodiles), we vroom-vroomed some cars, you toppled several of my towers, and we counted ladybugs. Ad nauseum. (Not that I'm complaining, mind you.)

Around 8:30? 9:00? we made our way out to the kitchen because I was in desperate need of coffee. Papa woke up about that time and came out to join us.

Between that time and...say...noon-thirty everything is a blur. I left you with papa at some point so that your Sissy and I could go pick up your cake and run by the grocery store for other things that I needed for your party. I returned home around. . .12:30-ish, I guess. I fed you lunch. I put you to bed for a nap. You didn't nap. Brother William showed up. Guests were due to arrive. I decided you should be gotten up. William and Lizzie got you out of bed.

Aunt Liz arrived.

Brother Alex and his fiance, Nikki, showed up.

From that point, people continued to arrive. Eventually we had in attendance (in addition to the people already named), Peepa, Nana, Grandma Lovick, Aldert, Rayna, Dennis, Lance, Gavin, Willa, Shaile, Morgan, Shanan, Amy, and Nathan.

We sang you happy birthday. You had your very own cake, which at first you were reluctant to even touch, but once you stuck a finger into the sugar-laden icing and tasted it, you were hooked! You smeared it everywear! You were on a veritable sugar high by the time I rescued you and dunked you into the bathtub.

After your bath, we opened presents. You received a ton (at least!) of them! Mainly toys. Of course, you were much more interested in the tissue paper than the actual toy contained therein.

Eventually, the crowd subsided and you readily--gladly--went down for a nap in the cool comfort of your crib.

When you awoke, we dressed you and hauled you out to the car so that you could attend your second birthday party of the day--the one you shared with your great-grandmother at Robinwood (in Wendell).

Aunt Liz gave you three more presents there. One of which was a Jack in the Box, with which Mommy managed to scare the bejeezus out of you. (I'm sorry!)

Because it was late by the time we got there (6 p.m.), we didn't stay long after the present opening ceremony (Grandma's, not yours). We ran by the grocery store (a.k.a. the banana shop) on the way home so that we had something to eat in the house besides cake. By the time we got to the house it was 8:30 p.m. You were exhausted. I put you in your PJs and read you a book and put you to bed.

What a day!

What a wonderful, wonderful day!

Your first birthday!

My how the time does fly. . .

I love you. So much. I love you sooooooooo much. I love you!

Happy Birthday!!!!!!

It's September 11th.

HAPPY ELEVEN MONTHS OLD!!!

This past month you've:

Begun to communicate. Banana remains a favorite word. We've decided it means both "I would like something to eat" and "Gimme BANANA!" The word "no" also remains a favorite. Everything is "no."

Benajmin, would you like to play in your room? No! Benjamin, would you like to go for a walk? No! Benjamin, do you think the price of oil is too high? No!

We've decided that you belong to the order of the Babies Who Say "No!" (It's a Monty Python thing, we'll explain it to you later.)

You can show us your ears and your fingers and your teeth. And if asked what the sheep says you will respond with "baa." Of course, this is also what the cat and the dog says.

You like baths and, as with the sheep, will say "baa" when brought into the bathroom.

You say "mama" when you see me. Of course, you sometimes say "mama" when you see your sister or your aunt. But you're consistent when it comes to me. (Or at least I like to think so.)

We took you to Pullen Park for the first time this past month. You enjoyed the swing, as well as feeding the ducks. We also took you to Hillridge Farm in Youngsville, where you got to see goats, a sheep, some chickens, ducks, the giant catfish, and a turtle.

You've become extremely adept at pulling up. And you've stood on your own a few times, though not for too long. No signs of walking yet, but you do cruise when you have an opportunity. And truth be told I'm in no hurry for you to walk. I am happy for you to remain a baby as long as you want to or need to.

It's hard to believe that soon we'll be celebrating your first year. It's trite, I know, but honestly, it does seem like just yesterday you were born, and here we are already, a year down the road.

I enjoy every moment of time I have with you, and every little milestone you reach fascinates and amazes me.

I love you.

I promise to try and post more here this next month.

Much love and kisses and hugs and giggles and tickles, etc.,

Mommy

Sweetie Boy!


Guess what? You're 10 months old!!!

As of yesterday.


Mom's really sorry, she feels so badly about not updating the blog on the actual date of your 'birthday.' But I remembered after I was in bed last night and although I was going to get up and do it then, I was ever so tired. So Papa convinced me that you'd forgive me, and I stayed in bed.


But I'm updating now, and oh boy, do I have some updates!


This past month you:

• Started pulling up on things. You can now pull yourself up on anything stationary, without any help at all.
• Started growing a new tooth on top--the one to the left (your left) of your top front two teeth.
• Began saying "ball" and "mama" and "dog" and "no" and "dada" to mean those specific things.
• You're beginning to identify things in your books, as well as in your room. (E.g. if we ask you to find the ball, you go get the ball. Or when I ask you "Where's the mouse" in your bedtime book [which is Goodnight Moon], you point to the mouse.)
• You went on your first road trip and your first camping trip. You spent nearly six hours in the van on the way to Clifftop, WV, where you camped with us at a music festival where Papa vends each year. You did so well! Much better than Mom ever expected. In fact, had the camper not broken down, Mom probably would have had nothing at all to complain about the entire trip. But, as luck would have it, the camper did break down, and Mom had tons to gripe about the entire trip.
• You had your first playground experience. Just yesterday Sissy and I took you to the Wendell park to swing on the swings, slide down the slide, and play in the sand. You had a great time. You ate sand! You loved it!
• You have switched from formula to something known as "Next Step," which is, essentially, formula, but with a few minor changes (e.g. more protein). You've also pretty much given up your two bottles. You still take one in the a.m. and one at night, but you've gone from 8 ounces each time to maybe five, mostly four.
• You can easily use a pincher grasp to pick food up and put it in your mouth. No more mashing things across your face, hoping that they will make their way, somehow, into your open maw.

I'm sure that there's tons I'm forgetting, but those are the highlights.

What else is going on?

Well, your Big Brother William is getting ready to start college. He heads off to UNC-Wilmington this coming weekend. This is brand new territory for mom, so stay tuned for updates on how this unfolds. Meanwhile, Sissy gets ready for eighth grade. Again, totally new territory. She's the big kid on campus now...but that status is fleeting, as next year she begins high school at the bottom of the totem pool. Meanwhile, Big Brother Alex is preparing to get married. Nikki is his betrothed. They are planning a February wedding. We're trying to convince them to elope and save the money, but I'm not realistically hedging my bets on that happening. Again, stay tuned.

Oh, and I had already started stressing out about your Halloween costume (being the offspring of two dyed-in-the-wool Pastafarians, you're doomed to off-the-wall Halloween get ups), but as fate would have it, I fortunately, (for you?), happened upon, just this past weekend, a $10 frog costume, you will, as of this moment in time, be a frog for Halloween. Happy Frogging! :-)

All my love, forever and always,

times infinity,

whole bunnies,

Mom

Hi Baby Boy,
Mommy is blogging, so what does that mean? Yep! You guessed it! You've had a "monthly birthday." Mommy is sooo predictable, isn't she?

Silly boy! Silly Mommy!

So, yeah, OK, what a month we've had. You now have FOUR, yes, count 'em, FOUR teeth! Two on bottom, two on top. Mommy's little Rat-boy!

And on the day that you turned eight months old, although I never did update the blog to reflect as much, you started getting yourself from a crawling position back to a sitting position. No mean feat for a new crawler! You also began this month feeding yourself finger foods (although it's not an especially graceful maneuver, what with the whole grab-it-in-the-palm-shove-it-towards-the-mouth-and-hope-it-falls-in approach, it works nonetheless). And you started trying to pull up. Granted the 'pull ups' have only been while you had the help and support of an animate object, such as Dad or me...no, wait, I take it back...Daddy says that you once pulled up on your keyboard thingy, but is was just the once, otherwise it's been while one of us helped you along. Still and all... It's a start. And it's certainly an indication of things to come from this point forward.

While I love watching you learn and grow (I had this dream last night that you could type on complete sentences on the computer, even though you couldn't verbally communicate what you were typing yet!), it's all so bittersweet because no more will you be my little baby. I've seen it happen to your brother and your sister and I know all too well now how quickly it all goes by and I just want to savor it and revel in it, but I can't stop you from growing (even if I could, I couldn't), and I already have a fuzzy memory of your being a newborn and that was just a few months ago...

I'll stop now. I always get all mushy in these posts, don't I?

Suffice it to say, I love you. And while I miss the little baby you were, I'm having great fun watching you grow into the big boy you are now!

All my love, hugs, and kisses, forever until eternity!

Mommy

These are the words to the song that your father and I decided upon as "our song" for the purpose of our wedding, etc. (I'm publishing them here because tonight, when I did a search for them, I couldn't find them. Fortunately, your father had saved them from when they were available.) The artist's name is Si Kahn.

No fancy gowns no high class towns to promise
I'm plain as rain and that's just not my style
And I've never been a none to ask for favors
But I hope you plan to stay with me a while
You're comfortable as a quiet conversation
Among good friends who've shared the time to eat
Like good meat loves salt that's how I love you

It's common now to say that times are changing
But that's not true, it's only people change
My patterns like your plants hung in my windows
Were worth the time it took to rearrange
I don't ask for anything that you don't offer
Like butter loves bread that's how I love you

I never was a person to get lonely
I was satisfied to stay here by myself
And it's not that I could be here with you only
It's just better than with anybody else

I can't promise that I'll go and leave you never
You know that something always could go wrong
And I can't say that I'll love you 'till forever
'Cause I don't expect to stay here quite that long
I'll just say that I'm prepared to stay here with you
As long as you're content to stay with me
Like the river loves the sea that's how I love you
Flow into me.

Dear Benjamin,

Your Uncle Jack died today.

http://thecapistranodispatch.com/index.php?mact=News,cntnt01,detail,0&cntnt01articleid=461&cntnt01dateformat=%25B%20%25d%2C%20%25Y&cntnt01returnid=15

(I don't know how long that link will be valid, but should it expire I'm sure you can find something if you Google [will Google still be around when you're older?] the words "zepp ultralight.")

Papa is extremely sad about your uncle's death. Though they were brothers, they had not really been particularly close until recently. And this recent closeness makes it that much more hard to deal with for your Papa.

You've met Uncle Jack.

He made a special point of coming by to meet you directly after you were born.

He's been here twice, actually, since your birth. Although they had been in contact prior to your birth, you were actually sort of the catalyst for this whole fraternal reconciliation that he and your Papa went through, truth be known.

But because there are so many years between you and Papa and, thus, between you and your Uncle Jack and his and Papa's parents, I fear that you may grow up feeling completely out of touch with that whole side of your family. But I hope not.

I hope that one day you will appreciate and embrace these people--both your Uncle Jack and your grandparents--for who they were in their lives, and for the love that they would have had for you had they been able to be here and be a part of your life.

Does that make sense?

I hope so.

I'm afraid that I'm feeling rather raw emotionally, so I hope that I'm not being too macabre. I just want you to know that those from whom you are descended were fantastic people, and it's just a shame that they aren't able to be there for you, because I know that they would have truly loved to have been a part of your life.

If I were a religious person I would say that one day you will meet them. But I don't believe that.

I do, however, believe that they are a part of you. And you a part of them. And forever down the line this connection will remain.

Rest in peace Uncle Jack.

Happy eighth month birthday, Benjamin!!!!

What an month it's been, too! I mean, besides everything going on with Daddy, you've been super busy growing and learning.

You started crawling this month. It's still not a particularly graceful process, but you can get yourself across a room using this knee/belly combination of movements. What you do is get up on your knees, move forward a bit, flop down on your belly, and then repeat. Here lately you've started getting frustrated with how much effort this takes and how slowly you go and you've begun doing this 'push up' thing where you get up not on your knees but your toes and stick your fanny in the air. Eventually I think that all of this will result in a more efficient crawling motion, but again, you are still able to get yourself around doing what you're doing. And it's ever so much fun to watch you!

At the end of your sixth month you'd begun getting a bottom tooth. Well, now you have both bottom teeth. The one poked through all alone, but it was joined almost immediately by the other one. And based on the puffiness of your upper gums, as well as your desire to chomp things, I'm guessing that your top teeth will be in by the end of this month.

In light of your new teeth we've begun giving you the stage 3 baby foods, as well as some finger foods such as cheerios and tiny pieces of whatever we're eating. You can use a pincher grasp, but you still need a lot of practice perfecting it. Generally you can pick up the cheerios (or other foods), but keeping the food in your fingers while you get it to your mouth is still a challenge. I'm sure by the end of this month that will no longer be the case.

You've been drinking out of sippy cups and taking sips of water out of our glasses, but we've had to hold the container for you. Just yesterday, though, I gave you some formula in a cup that has handles and you picked up the cup and drank all by yourself!!

Your brother and sister have also reached some pretty important milestones this past month: Lizzie finished up seventh grade yesterday and this past Monday William completed his last high school course and he will graduate tonight. (Your Aunt Pat and Nana Carol are coming over this evening to watch you so that Aunt Lizzie, Daddy (hopefully), Lizzie, and I can attend graduation.)

Yep, it's been a wild month. You've been busy growing and developing and doing your wonderful baby things, Daddy's had major surgery, your sister has finished her next-to-the-last year of middle school, and your brother is graduating and getting ready to leave the house to head for college.

Whew!

Mommy's tired!

But it's a good tired. :-)

You all--Daddy, brother, sister, and you--are what's it all about.

Love you!

Happy Birthday!!!

A quick update (I just got out of the shower and have got to go get ready to run to the grocery store and take Daddy to the eye doctor):

We came home Sunday.

I'm absolutely thrilled to have both of you in the same place!

Even though Aunt Liz is still coming everyday to help with you, I took off of work again this week so I could be around to help Daddy (and spend some time with you).

Daddy continues to improve. He has ups and downs all throughout the day, which is completely normal. He's progressing right along.

Tomorrow is your eighth month birthday. I'll be sure to post again then.

Love you!
Mommy

It's 9 p.m.

This is the first time I've taken the opportunity all day to just sit and play on the computer.

It's been an...interesting day.

I spent the night in the hospital. As you might can imagine (Or maybe you can't? I always envision myself talking to grown up Benjamin when I type here, but maybe I'm talking to 10-year-old Benjamin, who has no idea what being in a hospital is like?), one doesn't get a lot of sleep in a hospital. Every time you nod off someone comes in the room to rudely awaken the patient and poke or prod some part of him. The result is that the next day you find yourself feeling like you haven't slept at all. Which is how I've felt all day.

And then, of course, as soon as my day started I had to scheme and plot to figure out how I would logistically get everything done and be everywhere I needed to be. Lizzie needed to be taken to school by 7:30. And then her awards ceremony began at 8:30. And then Liz needed to go home to feed her cats and take care of things at her house. And I needed to take a shower and change clothes. And I wanted to take you to see your father. And then I needed to go to the grocery store to buy some baby food because you're out of fruit. And the van was out of gas, so I needed to stop and fill it up. And then I had to get back to the hospital. And, oh yeah, I wanted (needed) someone to stay with Donald while I did all that.

It took a LOT of help from everyone, but somehow or another I managed to get all that done!

Yay! for mommy!

And Yay! for everyone who's helped/helping mommy!

As far as events here at the hospital, your father has done well today. He got his catheter out early in the day and then his chest tubes out in the afternoon, so now the only thing he has attached or tethered to him is the external pacemaker. He's walked twice in the hallway (the first time was rough on him, he got very dizzy and nearly fell down, but the second time he didn't have any problems) and is generally doing extremely well still.

He is experiencing one small adverse surgical 'side-effect' and that is some occasional vision loss in his left eye. According to a ophthalmologist who came around to check him out, it's a condition known as nonarteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy (NAIOC). Essentially it's where he had, basically, a stroke, or loss of blood flow, in an optic artery. Hopefully it'll remedy itself. But we'll have him thoroughly checked out by his own doctor once he's home.

OK, kid, I'm afraid I'm getting really tired now, so I think I'll go lie down and try to get some sleep before someone comes in to poke and prod your father and wakes me up.

I love you so much sweet baby boy. I'm sorry that I can't be there with you right now. I miss you terribly. But you seem to be weathering all of this extremely well, and hopefully soon it'll all be over and both Mommy and Daddy will be there with you again and you'll never remember anything any differently.

Hugs and kisses, Funny Benjamin Bunny!

Love,

Mommy

I'm extremely tired, so I won't write much. Just wanted to note that I'd left the hospital around 5:00 to run Lizzie and Alex home (Alex had to go back to Wilkesboro tonight) and spend some time with you before putting you to bed.

But now I'm back.

Thank goodness, too. Daddy's nurse tonight is a bit of a...not sure what's a good word for it... Seems to me that perhaps she didn't actually pass her nursing certifications.

Daddy had to go to the bathroom, so she got him in there and then left. Told me to ring if I needed her help to get him out. (If?!?! What do I look like, a nurse!? Not to mention he's not even supposed to be going to the bathroom--I mean, that's the whole reason for the Foley!)

Anyway, she never came back around, and when I looked out the door for her before going in for Daddy she wasn't around, so I attempted to help him myself. Big mistake. Oh, we were fine going from the bathroom to the bed, that wasn't a big deal. Getting him in the bed, along with his myriad and sundry wires and tubes was, however, quite the ordeal, and I like to have killed him in the process.

I feel so badly! I mean, it seemed like it ought to be a simple enough process, putting someone in the bed. But when they have tubes dangling from their chest, as well as from other, sensitive parts of their body, it's just not that easy. And, again, I'm not a nurse, so whadda I know about these things to begin with.

But even when Nurse Know-Nothing came in to help, she didn't do a much better job than I'd been doing. She was jostling him around and yanking on the catheter, bouncing his bed around, depending on me to help pull him up (not that I mind at all helping her help him, it's just I have to wonder how would she have done it if I weren't here?).

Poor, poor Daddy. Like I said, we nearly killed him, I think. He was in a lot of pain from the whole ordeal.

But now he's had another pain pill and the lights are all out in the room and he's resting. Comfortably, I hope.

I have a chair/bed thing pulled out and am all ready for bed myself (thank goodness I thought to bring a pillow from home 'cause the pillows here aren't hitting on much).

I'm sorry I haven't been there a lot for you these past few days. I feel so terribly torn between wanting to be here with Daddy and wanting to be there with you. I'll be so happy when I can have you both in the same place and I don't have to keep trying to shuttle back and forth.

I love you. Good night sweetie boy.

Wednesday, 10:30 a.m.

Alex and I are back at the hospital. We got here in time for the 8:30 a.m. CTSU visitation. Daddy is doing so well! They were prepping him while we were there for moving him up to the third floor Cardiac step-down unit.

They told us that we could go ahead up to the room, so we did, but then the nurses decided that the room they had initially wanted him to go in was not adequate for the equipment that they still have him on, so they had to get another room ready. In the meantime we're hanging out in the chapel, playing on our computers.

I am absolutely amazed at how quickly your father is rebounding from the surgery. I was so worried that he'd be out of it for several days, but he seems to be progressing right along and, though still obviously in need of lots of healing time, he's experienced very few adverse effects thus far.

Myself, I'm feeling much better in general today than I did yesterday. Sleep helped. (Even though I wasn't able to doze off until around midnight and I found myself waking up again around 4 a.m., but I stayed in bed until 6 and drifted in and out during that time.) You, you sleepy head, did not wake up until 7 a.m.! It was a mad dash to get everything done this a.m. and get out the door in time to get here for the 8:30 visit, but somehow I made it.

It also helps that Daddy is doing so amazingly well. He's certainly not completely out of the woods yet, but he's well on his way and his progress thus far gives me great hope that all is going to be well in the end.

I do wish that they'd hurry up and get him up here. I'm anxious to see him again.

I'm home.

I visited with Daddy one last time at 9:30 p.m. He was doing really well at that time, sitting up, talking, being silly. But that was the last visiting time, so we had to leave afterwards. I'm very sad that I couldn't take him with me, or else stay there, but I needed to come home for you anyway, so I couldn't have stayed anyway.

When I got home you and Aunt Liz were rocking in your room. Your diaper had leaked and you had woken up crying. Aunt Liz changed you, and she and Alex together changed your sheet. I rocked with you for awhile and then put you back to bed. You're asleep again. I am not.

As exhausted as I am, I can't seem to shut down now. I'll sit up and read for a little while and see if that helps and, if not, I'll have to go scrounge around and find the Tylenol PM.

I miss your Daddy so much.

I love you both so much.

Good night.

Just got back from the 8:30 p.m. visit.

Your Daddy was more awake, but still had the breathing tube in so he couldn't talk. He was able to communicate though with motions and such. He wanted to know what time it was, and joked around with my Dad, flipping him off when Dad asked him to repeat himself. Oh, and when the nurse turned her back for a moment he made like he wanted me to get up and get gone with him. Again, it's good to know that his sense of humor is working so well so soon.

The next time we go visit him the nurse says that his breathing tube should be out and he'll be able to talk some.

It's hard to tell how much he's really there with us still, though. Especially because the nurse said earlier that rarely do patients remember any of their time in ICU. So it would seem to me that if that's the case, then he really isn't engaged in interacting.

............................................................................................................................................................

So a few minutes ago the desk lady here said "Is there a member of the Zepp family here?" and then sent us back to see Daddy. Scared the bejeezus out of me because I, of course, assumed that something terrible had happened because there's still an hour left until the scheduled visiting time.

Fortunately, though, the reason for the impromptu visit was because the breathing tube had come out and the nurse thought that we'd want to go see him (which of course we did).

It was great!

He was sitting up, no tube, talking (quietly, though, because his throat hurts terribly). He can remember that we had visited before. He's doing so well!!

At 4:30 we went back during the scheduled visiting time (CICU visiting times are 8:30 a.m., 10:30 a.m., 1:30 p.m., 4:30 p.m., 7:30 p.m., and 9:30 p.m.) and guess what? Daddy was awake!!!!!

And he's passed the test checking for signs of stroke!

Yay!!

His nurse is extremely impressed with how well he's doing, she really didn't expect him to be awake so soon.

Although he won't remember a bit of our visit, and although he still can't talk because of the breathing tube, he was able to respond to my questions. We even had a bit of fun: I asked him to blink once for yes, which he did, and then I asked him to blink ten times for no, which he started to do. Of course he knew I was kidding and it made me feel so good to know that not only is he there with us again, but his sense of humor remains intact despite the trauma he's been through today.

His surgeon just wandered out here to talk to a different family about their loved one and stopped by briefly to say hi. Strange guy, this surgeon. Very odd personality. He asked me how your Daddy was doing and I said, happily, "He's doing GREAT!" and he responds with, "Yeah, I think he's going to be alright. Keep your fingers crossed." Now why the hell would he say something like that? Is there something going on that I'm not aware of for which I would need to cross my fingers in hopes that it remedies itself???

Here I am, feeling happy that things are going so well, and then WHAM! the surgeon suggests that maybe I shouldn't be so happy?!

I'm just too tired for this kind of b.s.

C'mon 7:30...I need to see my sweetie!

hey (Lizzie typed that--she wanted to add something here :-)

So about an hour ago we went back to see Daddy.

It was a scary experience.

He has so many tubes and monitors and tape and things going every which way. Down his throat. On his head. On his hands. Everywhere.

And he was pale. And cold. And swollen.

And I felt so badly for him. I just wanted to scoop him up and hold him and make it all better.

But I couldn't.

I have to wait.

i love u! (Lizze typed that, too. She obviously wanted to add something again :-)

Anyway...

So I have to wait.

Daddy has to get better slowly, on his own.

And he will. I know he will.

I just have to wait.

It's 1:30 p.m. and we just got done talking with Dr. Peyton.

He said everything went according to plan. (Except that even he didn't foresee having to do six arteries--something that he specifically mentioned he doens't do often, but which definitely needed doing in this case.) At this point Daddy is still sedated and on the ventilator, but he'll be ready to have us visit in about an hour and a half (he still won't be conscious, though, even at that point).

I can't even begin to describe how relieved I feel now that the surgery itself is over. I tried to tell myself not to think negatively, but truth be told I was so scared that something terrible might happen--that I might be that poor woman crying in the conference room--and now that I'm out of the woods as far as that kind of thing goes (of course, awful things can occur during recovery, but those odds are really low and I'm not even going to think about that any further right now), I'm positively elated!

I just wish I could go ahead and go back and see him. I want to touch him and know that he's here and he's OK. Then I can go home and see you, and hold you. And then maybe, hopefully, get some sleep. I'm exhausted.

We just received the second phone call (12:15 p.m.).

Daddy is off the heart/lung machine and they're putting him back together, after having bypassed SIX arteries! Six!!

Now we're waiting for the surgeon himself to finish up and come out to talk with us.

I'm feeling much more relaxed at this point, but I won't be completely off of pins and needles until I see the surgeon!

It's 10:45 a.m.

A nurse called about a half-hour ago to give us an update. Said your father was doing well and that had started the actual bypass process. I'm still anxious, but it helped knowing that so far, so good.

(Some unfortunate family up here did not receive such good news. A few hours ago they took a woman into one of the private rooms off the waiting room to obviously tell her that something unpleasant and unforeseen had happened to someone she loves. Despite the private room, we could still hear her crying.)

Despite the computer and a book she brought to read, Lizzie is getting bored and antsy. She wants to go to the gift shop, so that's where we're off for...

So here we are, in the critical care waiting room at Wake Med.

They've taken your father back already to prep him for surgery, which should begin around 8:00 a.m. or so (it's 7:00 a.m. now--we've been at the hospital since 5:30 a.m.). Your brother, Alex, and your sister, Lizzie, are here with me and your grandmother, Becky, and Nana Carol will also be up here in awhile.

I'm pretty sure that I haven't posted before about any of this...so let me give you some background: A few months ago now I pleaded with and threatened your father enough that I finally convinced him to go have a physical (your arrival helped my case). A result, though, of that assessment was an elevated cholesterol reading, which in turn resulted in your father having to take a cholesterol lowering drug, and which also prompted his GP to recommend a test known as a cardiac calcium score (it looks for and measures the build up of calcium in the plaque that has occurred on the arterial walls). Well, this test came back with not-so-good results, which prompted the GP to recommend yet another procedure known as a stress test to see just how well the blood supply was getting to his heart. This test, too, came back with some concerning scores, so this time the GP recommended going to a cardiologist and having a cardiac catheterization to determine, once and for all, if your father had any blockages.

The day we went in for the catheterization (23 May), we expected that, worse case scenario, your dad would have to stay overnight at the hospital because the doctor had to put in a stent or two to unblock a mildly blocked artery. Fortunately that didn't happen. Unfortunately the result was worse: four, or perhaps five, of the arteries leading to his heart were so blocked that stents just wouldn't do the trick--he'd either have to have bypass surgery to repair them or he could spend the rest of his life trying hard not to exert himself physically because to do so would eventually result in a heart attack.

So here we are, at the hospital, waiting while the surgeon repairs your father's arteries.

And speaking of surgeons, Dr. Robert Peyton, your father's surgeon, just came by to tell us that he'd be getting started soon and to not worry (Yeah, right!) that things would be fine and he'd have a nurse call around 12:00 or 1:00 to give us an update.

Meanwhile, your at home with your Aunt Lizze who, thankfully, recently retired and is able to take care of you for us while we take care of all of this. If there is a such thing as good timing for this to have happened, this was a good time. I'm not sure what I'd have done if Aunt Lizzie wasn't able to take care of you. I guess I'd either have to find a daycare (I can't imagine!) or else figure out a way to take care of you while waiting all day at a hospital (I can't imagine!). Thank goodness for Aunt Lizze!!

It's now 7:47 a.m. In roughly 10 minutes they'll begin surgery. I'm trying not to be frightened and worried, but truth is, I'm frightened and worried. And although in reality we've only been here for a little over two hours, it's feels like we've been here for a week already. I can but imagine that the time between now and that noon-ish phone call is going to feel like an eternity.

I love your father so much. He's truly my everything. It hurts me for him to hurt and I just want this to be over and done with. I miss him already and I wish I could somehow make this better for him and I feel so powerless that I can't...

Nana Carol is here.

It's 7:56 a.m.

Dear Benjamin,

Today, Mother's Day, you are seven months old!

Some accomplishments of the past month:

• You crawled. Sort of. Suffice it to say you achieved forward motion, even if your form still leaves a little to be desired. (You'll get there, though! Practice makes perfect!)
• A tooth has broken through. Bottom left (your left). It's still not visible to the naked eye, but when I run my finger over your gum I can feel it!
• You have added the 'p' sound to your growing repertoire of raspberries, squeals, and myriad other noises.
• You're eating three 'meals', plus about 24 oz. of formula, per day. (I believe you've had, at this point, every kind of stage 2 baby food on the market. You're still not crazy about the meats, at least not by themselves, but you'll eat them when they're mixed with fruits or vegetables.)
• You enjoy 'eating' (i.e. voraciously gumming) teething biscuits.

Every single day you change. Small changes, but ones that quickly add up to become significant changes. I mean, just think, a mere seven months ago you could do nothing more than lie there and reflexively wave your arms and legs. But now you've perfected your pincher grasp and can pick up a toy using only your thumb and index finger. That's amazing stuff!

And I'm enjoying every moment with you. I look forward toward seeing you in the morning, peering between your crib slats, greeting me, and the day, with a smile on your face. I miss you terribly during the day when I have to go to work (but I'm so glad that you get to stay here with your father--it helps to know that you're with someone who loves you just as much as I do). And then I can't wait to get home in the evening to see you again! I have always looked forward towards the weekends, but I do even more now that it means that I have entire days to spend with you!

It's such a wonderful experience having you. And having you at the age I am now. When your brother and sister were small I doted on them just the same as I do you now, but the difference between then and now is I didn't have the hindsight and the life experience then to know how quickly they would grow up and stop being babies. (Not that they aren't still my babies...but they didn't stay little babies for long. Your brother, in fact, turned 18 just last month. Incredible stuff. I vividly remember him being born and it wasn't that long ago!) But now I know. I realize all too well how short-lived this stage in your--and my--life is going to be and it makes every day, every moment, with you that much more special.

Sorry if I'm being overly mushy, but I want you to know these things. I want you to know how
absolutely fantastic I think you are, how important you are to me, and how much I love you. I'm afraid that because your father and I are 'older' parents (your father certainly falls into that category more so than me, but even I am considered an 'older' mommy) we have perhaps added a dimension of difficulty to your life that most kids don't have to deal with. If we have, I apologize. But please, please know that it was not our intent. Our intent was only to expand our love for each other by creating a child together. You, of course, are that child. And we love you so very much! You're the light of our lives!

And I promise that I'm going to do better about posting to this blog. I'm sure you've noticed the trend: I post once a month on your 'birthday.' So I'm going to work on that. It's just that I stay so busy watching you and enjoying you, it's hard to find time to write about you!

But until next time, I remain,

devotedly yours,

Mommy

P.S. Thank you so much for the pretty flowers and plant you and Daddy gave to me for Mother's Day, as well as for the sweet note you wrote to me!