Revelations on mamahood:
The fact that the diapers you love are no longer being made will suddenly become the biggest crisis in the world. And since your world doesn’t extend much beyond your front door these days, you can legitimately say, this is the biggest crisis in the world.
Babies don’t care about morning breath, coffee breath, the fact that you haven’t showered or that you can’t sing to save your life. In fact, these are the very things that make your baby recognize you from all the other mamas in the world – or at least you can tell yourself this when you realize you haven’t washed your hair in four days and your shirt has three different feedings of dried spit-up on it.
You will not bat an eye at spending a crazy amount of money on the latest, award-winning mentally-stimulating mobile or at handing over even more money to some stranger on the other side of the country for the very last batch of newborn-sized Seventh Generation diapers in the world – but you will spend five minutes in the yogurt aisle trying to decide whether or not it’s okay to pay an extra thirty cents for the soy yogurt instead of the regular yogurt for yourself.
You will need to occasionally force yourself to call your child by his given name, lest he grow up and fill in his college applications with “Master Doodle Muffin the first”.
Things I will not do: ask my baby permission to touch him, like the woman on the informative “infant massage” TV show said we should do. He’s four weeks old, what’s he going to say? Sure, mama, and could you warm up the lotion first this time? And while I cursed about the silly “must-have” items I read about before he was born, let me tell you this – I am all over the baby-wipe warmer. It sounds silly, but it will break your heart to hear the curdling scream when you rub cold wipes on your baby’s bum at three in the morning – not to mention possibly wake him up, thus increasing the amount of time before you get to go back to sleep. I’m just sayin’.
It’s taken me two hours to write this out, and he’s crying again, which means at least another hour before I can hit that post button. Revelation: it will take you fifteen times longer to do any normal things anymore – but really, you won’t care one single bit.

Once upon a time, I took pictures of things other than my baby. Really, I did.
I vaguely remember those days. You mean there was life before Sammy?
Jay getting laid off was the best thing – how else could we spend entire afternoons snuggled in bed, simply watching the baby sleep?
We’ve grown oblivious to the outside world. Time is completely lost on us. Jobs seem like such a foreign concept. Every so often I stop and think: my friends are getting ready for work right now. Or, my students are in class learning right now. Or, people are going about their usual days, unaware that our days are wrapped up in this tiny little human in our little house.
I also stop and look at him and think, Holy crap, we made him. My body made this little creature!
I also contemplate things like vacuuming and making the bed, but that all seems so trivial compared to holding a sleeping Sammy in my arms.

I can’t be the only mama who breaks into Pearl Jam every time she sees the Evenflo bottles.
Ha! Take that, minivan soccer mama creeping up inside! I AM a ROCKSTAR mama! I sing Pearl Jam and cool songs to my baby! Folk music! Jazz! Classic rock! No Baby Einstein midi crap in this house, no matter how good their marketing!
(Heh. Sleep deprivation, anyone?)
The last couple of days have been a blur of sleep and not enough sleep, pumping, feeding, changing diapers, smothering kisses, tagteaming nighttime feedings, calming (or trying to) tears, counting up ounces eaten, doing laundry, washing bottles, sterilizing everything, watching him find his reflection in the mirror, pediatrician visits (two since we came home, cardiologist visit today), waiting for his smile to let us know he’s falling asleep, trying to find the perfect way to rest my hand on his chest to make sure he’s breathing without waking him up, breaking into randomly created songs about poop and how much we love him (though not always in the same song), making up new nicknames like Doodlemuffin and Muffinhead (though he’s a Doodle through and through), creating an entire new vocabulary (nummienolas = food, noonie = pacifier), worrying and crying about what the future holds – and then kicking myself in the arse and reminding myself to take in the moment as he is right now (because he’s just freaking AWESOME in every possible way), and generally just loving the crap out of him.
(Of course, if I had said that out loud, I’d immediately cover his ears as I said the word “crap” – after all, I used to give my students a hard time if they cursed in front of my pregnant belly, claiming that I would hunt them down if my baby’s first word was any of the words they were spewing. Nevermind that mama’s the Queen Trucker Mouth when someone cuts her off in traffic. Whatever.)
Anyway, I hear little Doodle stirrings – sounds like time for breakfast. Good thing mama managed to scarf hers down (AND pump AND get his meds ready AND pack for the trip to the doctor AND make up some bottles) all while he was snoozing. Go mama with your bad, sleep-deprived, Pearl-Jam-singin’ self!

We survived our first day at home alone with this little creature. Sure, it meant taking turns sleeping on the floor of his room because the cosleeper wasn’t set up and neither of us could really bear to leave him alone. And sure, there was fussing and a generally unhappy belly – complete with projectile vomiting – because Mama fed him the higher calorie mixture by accident. But there were also champion diaper changes, meds given at the very right times, showers, naps, the realization that little monkey can focus on his reflection, a discovery that his little fingers fit perfectly in his little mouth if he curls them just right – and lots and lots of snuggling with Mama and Daddy.
All in all, a fantastic day.

At almost 3 weeks old, I FINALLY get to snuggle with him – minus wires and tubes and monitors – on our couch. Not some pull-out makeshift bed with hospital blankets, but OUR couch. In OUR house. His house.
This makes us all very, very happy.
We were discharged around noon. Sammy wasn’t a huge fan of the car seat at first, but I think once he realized we were leaving, he was more than okay with it. Jay lugged all our stuff out to the car only to find out that the battery was dead! They managed to jumpstart it, and shortly after we were on our way home! Never a dull moment with us, I swear.
Sammy’s doing well – sleeping in his swing right now. We’re getting settled in – figuring out the routine at home. It’s so nice to be able to feed him without fifteen people coming in needing to check this or get that or poke him or somehow otherwise interrupt. Though – it WAS nice having the nurses to change those poopy diapers!
Thanks for all your love, support and prayers the past few weeks. I’d write more, but we’re all so very tired. For now, we need to sneak some rest while he snoozes away in his little swing. Welcome to parenthood!

Ok, THAT was a kazillion times worse than the 4:30am phone call from Sammy’s cardiologist when he was in the CICU.
Jay’s downstairs in the parent bunks. I had finally fallen asleep in the chair-that-becomes-a-bed next to Sammy’s crib. The next thing I knew, scary, blaring alarms filled the room – and Sammy’s monitor (which tracks his heart) was blank with flashing red lights. I flew up and out into the hallway; the nurses looked up and stared at me. All I could say was, “That’s Sammy” – the nurses raced in.
He’s FINE. They have no idea what happened – but it was something with the monitor and not him. The alarms were enough to hear out at the nurses station, but their monitors never signaled that there was a problem.
One of the nurses stood with me in the hallway while they were still trying to figure out what was going on. I was stunned – I didn’t know yet that he was okay. Even now, standing over his crib with my hands on his chest, feeling for his heart and his breathing, I still can’t tell if I’m about to burst into tears or if I’m still in a numbed shock from the panic.
Sammy? Slept through the whole thing. The nurse joked with me – “Baby? Couldn’t be better. Mama? She needs a valium with a shot of tequila.”
They moved us to a private room with a working monitor for the rest of the night. Still, I think I’m going to have a hard time falling back asleep.

Rumor around the stepdown unit – we’re slated for discharge Wednesday morning!
It came as a bit of a surprise – we had hoped (very optimistically) for Wednesday, but figured reality was closer to the weekend. Sammy’s cardiologist surprised us this morning with the possibility of tomorrow or Wednesday, and as the day progressed, it was clear it was better for us to stick around an extra day, just to finish up some things and keep an eye on him just a bit longer. Still, we’re very excited to think that we could be home in less than two days!
Sammy’s doing really well. He’s eating like a champ – both bottle & breastfeeding. Jay just fed him and he sucked down the whole thing. He’s gained a little bit – but the key is that he’s eating AND gaining. He’s really good at letting us know when he’s hungry, too. It’s about the only time he cries! (Well, that and diaper changes, but in his defense, it’s kind of cold in here!)
He also smiles – and laughs! Our roommate could hear him from the other side of the room, and was amazed at how he was laughing already. And while everyone’s just going to tell us it’s gas – it’s a real laugh with a wide smile. Very cute.
He had two echocardiograms today. Everything looks good, except that his tricuspid valve regurgitation is a bit worse than it was during his first echo after birth. Our doctor said this isn’t unusual, but they’re still going to monitor it and he hopes it’ll be better by the next echo in a few weeks. Overall, he’s really happy with how Sammy has recovered.
Today was a whirlwind of doctors and social workers and nurses and everyone trying to get us ready to go home – hearing tests, setting up pediatrician visits & home visits with a visiting nurse, finishing up paperwork and other tests. They had all been told we’d be going home tomorrow, so it was a race to get in everything that needed to get done. Before we knew it, it was 5pm! You’d think that the days in a hospital would drag, but they seem to fly by. Tomorrow we have an infant CPR class, Sammy gets his RSV & Hep B vaccinations and some final check-ups and I’m sure there will be a revolving door of doctors and nurses and research assistants as well.
So hopefully, if all stays the same, Sammy will be in his own crib Wednesday afternoon!

We’re LOVING stepdown! We’re sharing a room with another very sweet couple whose child just had the second HLHS surgery. We can pretty much pick up Sammy whenever we feel like it, walk around with him – he hasn’t been on the monitors at all today! – and we’re pretty much responsible for feeding him, changing him and generally acting like parents – with the occasional nurse popping in on us.
Sammy decided this morning that he REALLY didn’t like his NG tube (the feeding tube in his nose) – he wiggled his finger underneath and pulled it out! Our nurse took that as a sign that maybe it was time to move completely to the breast and the bottle. It was a tough day – lots of fighting with the bottle & spitting up – until Jay asked for a different nipple on the bottle with this last feed. Sammy took the WHOLE 45ccs!!! AND, this was after his first REAL breastfeeding!
This is huge. Our fear after the struggles today was that we would need to go back to the NG tube – and then Sammy went and ate like a champ. Feeding is the biggest obstacle now to going home – and tonight was a good sign that we’re headed in the right direction!
Otherwise, we’re all doing well. Tired, but what parents of newborns aren’t?

It’s our Snickerdoodle Buddha baby!
We need to dress him in oversized clothes because of his chest, IVs and other assorted wires, so he ends up looking all buddha-yoda-yogi-like. I pretend to do tai chi with his arms, and occasionally break into a “wax on, wax off” routine.
What a day!
We came into his room this morning and I snuck a peek at the pile of papers on the counter. On the very top? His transfer orders – to STEP DOWN!!! Our night nurse confirmed what we had suspected – we were stuck in the CICU yesterday only because there were no rooms on the floor.
And then the waiting began.
We cleaned the room. We dressed him in new clothes. We took pictures. We sat and waited. And waited. And waited. And tried to breastfeed. And waited some more. In there, Mama had a meltdown because she came back to the IV line – moved from his hand to his head. My little boy has an IV line sticking up out of his head. It took a few hours, but I got used to it -
And at 5pm, we gathered up all our stuff and made our way, finally, to step down!
This is huge for so many things. This means he’s no longer considered critical or needing intensive care. This means we’re in a shared room with another heart couple – WITH A DOOR WE CAN CLOSE! We have quiet. And most importantly?
We get to play Mama and Daddy to our little boy. FINALLY.
The nurses no longer run to him over every peep or beep. We pick him up when he cries. We change those stinky, slimy diapers. We get to try to feed him. And feeding is our challenge now – we get to take monkey home when we’ve proven that he can eat and gain weight.
And like the true son of an overachiever that he his, he ate a full ounce of breastmilk from a bottle this afternoon. In his room. In the step down unit.
Oh, happy day!

Today was pretty mellow. Sammy’s been sleeping most of the day, though earlier, they disconnected his monitors and we were able to walk around the room with him, untethered! (We even danced with him to Sweet Caroline, which made the Sox fan dad in the next unit chuckle.) He’s down to Lasix (to help with the fluid in his lungs), Reglan (to prevent vomiting) and Zantac (to help with the reflux). They changed his feeds from a constant drip of breastmilk to bolus feeds every three hours. They started him off with 30 ccs over one hour, then 45 ccs over one hour, and now he’s taking 45ccs over 30 minutes. He’s tolerating them really well, which is a really good sign. He latched on this morning, too, sucking away – though we don’t really think he got much. Still, it was a comfort to both him and me to be that close to one another.
We’re still in the CICU, though we think it’s only because the step down unit was full this morning. We spent last night in the hotel and tonight we’re hunkering down in the parent bunks at the hospital – our beds are already made.
Tomorrow, if the night goes well – we should be on our way to step down!