Double double

Tonight we asked how much Cole weighed, and they said 1770 grams. You know what that is?

Cole has totally doubled his own body weight! Yay! Seems like a big step.

Steins everywhere!

Turkey is delicious. Even more delicious is time with the Stein family, and that is something for which we are truly thankful. We had a great visit with Kate's family, overcoming the 2 visitor limit revolving folks in and out of the NICU till they had their fill. I'm not convinced everybody actually had their fill, but you can't just spend all day staring at a baby. Seriously. It's tempting though, right?

Cole thought it was awesome to see his extended family. He told us using smile-O-grams.



After all the action though, he was pretty pooped.

Nice face!

This is pretty cool! The trend of fattening up and getting stronger continues, and they have taken him off the CPAP and put him on a canula. What's a canula? I don't know -- basically like a smaller CPAP I guess, but here's a close up:



We can't help but feel proud and excited at his progress. We know, this is a crazy ass roller-coaster ride and we shouldn't get our hopes up. I guess we're not getting our hopes up, we're more just thrilled and excited at his current state. *KNOCK WOOD*. It's possible (and very common) for babies to go back to the CPAP. It wouldn't be a step back -- they're just checking to see if he can hang with the canula. After two days, so far so good.

I've been feeling pretty sick for the past couple days (thank you 7 hours on an airplane) so I haven't been able to hold Cole yet, so I can't describe it from my own personal experience. Kate says that it is amazing to feel him in her arms without the bubbling mass of CPAP tubes buffering his head from her body. Also, now that he is in the crib, the process has changed from "kinda stressful crazy nurse assisted transport" to something much more simple, and much more real. She just picked him right up and held him. How cool is that?! I can't wait to do that.

Remember his crazy nasty hippopotamus leg extravaganza? Things are going well on that front too; now his ankle just has a big ol' scab on it, under which there should be some happy new skin forming. His leg is still wrapped in a big protective gauze sock.

Kate's mom sent some preemie clothes our way, and we were totally amused by the sizing labels:



Micro is funny, but TINY?! Come on! That is awesome!

Bars!

I'm a happy baby. Occasionally, I smile. It's tough to catch on film though. I think this might be a smirkus.



I'm really excited! I raise my arms in joy! I make a noise! Yerp!

You want to know why? I'll tell you. I have an awesome new condo. It's bigger, has super high ceilings, and has a bar. Occasionally when I'm getting changed, I accidentally make it a wet bar.

Chubs

Today, Kate and I both felt that he's actually starting to look like a baby. There he was wrapped up in a blanket, his fat little cheeks ... cheeking. He totally has plump little cheeks! It's nuts. He's no longer wrinkles mcgee, he's totally filling out. It's so cool that I can't even write sentences! Just fragments.

Photos to come.

Sleeves!

See his outfit? It's awesome. It's a little big for him, but that's okay. Tonight we hung out for a little while, with Kate's brother John in tow. It was a wonderfully uneventful evening.





John was really stressed.

Blogging from space.

I'm in San Francisco and have been away from Kate and Cole for 4 days. Boooooo. I'm typing this on my iPhone so please forgive errors and crappy grammar, this thing is way less efficient than an actual keyboard.

Anyway, enough about me. Kate tells me that Cole is doing well. His ankle/leg is healing, slowly but surely. There is no more evidence of whatever was bothering his digestive system. Two high fives for Cole!

I can't wait to see in person, and then post photographs of his latest development. Kate told me that they have started putting him in little clothes to see if he can regulate his own body temperature. The teeniest shirt they have dwarfs him and the sleeves are rolled up so many times that he looks a little like the Michelin man. But eensy. Sounds fun right? I'll keep you posted.

Bright eyes

Cole seems to be handling his ailments pretty well. He's slowly being reintroduced to a milk-based diet, and not getting too fussy about having his leg pinned up to a bag of somethingorather. He is almost 3 pounds!! But not quite. Since there isn't a whole lot of exciting news or particularly interesting things to update you on, here are some silly pictures.

Stay Puft Marshmallow Baby

He started off pretty well this morning. He had a good x-ray, showing that he's healing well from whatever it was that was ailing him earlier in the week. He finished his antibiotics. He was breathing really well, keeping his numbers where they need to be, the spelling at a minimum.

Then it all went to crap.

Kate called the NICU for an update right before we went in for the 6 o'clock cares, and that's when we got the news. One of the IVs in his foot got screwed up, and the stuff that was supposed to go into his bloodstream instead just leaked into his leg. Now for the weird part: what they were giving him was caustic. When it goes into his blood, it's food. When it goes into his body, it dissolves his skin. Awesome. The net result was that he lost a big chunk of skin on his ankle, and his leg is now blown up like a balloon.



Poor little guy. This isn't a huge terrifying deal, it's just sad and uncomfortable for the little bean.

Adding to our frustration and sadness, they tried to get a new IV into his arm while we were there and they just couldn't do it. His tiny little veins are hard to find, and difficult to get a needle into. They will try again some time tonight because he needs nourishment. They have started feeding him milk again (yay!) but are reintroducing it in very small amounts, so they need to augment it with IV fluids. We know they'll succeed, and we know he'll be fine, it's just that these speed bumps are tough.



Keep fighting little doodle.

Another photo post

Despite the unknown weirdness going on with Cole's gizzards, it seems like he's in great shape. His breathing is fantastic, and he's a squiggly little weasel; which apparently is a sign of good health.

Tonight we had the good fortune of getting some snuggle time:

Seriously?

I forgot to knock wood last post.

Just as we were feeling that we could start to breathe easy with this whole situation, we find blood in Cole's stool. Sorry to just spring that on you like that, but there isn't really a softer way to put it.

He seems okay, but they still don't know what the problem is. They've stopped feeding him, and put him on antibiotics just in case it's an infection. Like any of the situations he gets himself into, it could either be nothing, or it could be serious. However, they've done a number of x-rays and inspections and most of the scariest possibilities have been eliminated. He's in good spirits and is breathing fantastically and seems generally fantastic. So can we get a break here? Please?

Last night at one point the nurse was doing something (I don't remember what) and he had nothing on his face. No breathing tube, no CPAP, no big crazy hat. It was just his adorable bare face. And he was breathing. His numbers were great, his blood oxygen was perfect, his heart rate was exactly what it needed to be. He looked so normal and sweet and strong. I felt like I was looking into the future when he will be machine-independent and have a perfect digestive system. Hope hope hope.

Cruisin

Sorry about the lack of posting lately! Everything's good at the moment though. First big news; check out his new house!



He has been moved out of the Maybach of incubators, and into the BMW of incubators. This downgrade in technology represents an upgrade in their faith in the progress of his systems. We are glad to see him take this step, but we also know this means that a baby has come into the NICU with greater needs than Cole, so our hearts go out to that baby and its family.

Also, Cole has changed to a different kind of CPAP - an internal snoot one. It may irritate his throat, but they needed to give his little nostrils a break from the big helmet style CPAP prongs. They see him potentially switching back and forth between the two types of CPAP.



It sort of feels like he's in a stable place at the moment. But if there's one thing we've learned from all of this so far, it's that the unexpected lurks behind every of the 50 breaths he takes every minute. So we're feeling hopeful, but trying to remain realistic.

He's cute.

A couple photographs

To decrease the density of text around here, I've got some snaps.

Kate took this shot of me holding Cole last night.



Look at Cole's little eye! We love it when he opens his eyes for a little peek at the outside world.



Something we've noticed is that he is just starting to look really comfortable and sacked out when he's asleep. Totally awesome.

Flappy bird

Yesterday I forgot to mention that due to Cole's lack of infections, they are stopping antibiotic treatment. Not only is this sweet because he no longer needs to be subjected to antibiotics (which are hard on his system in ways that the doctors told me and I have promptly forgotten) but also because they take his IV out! I may have mentioned before the invasiveness of a preemie IV, but let me reiterate: he had a big poofy splint all the way down his arm with miles of tape for securing everything and plastic danglie things for inserting needles. The whole apparatus was unwieldy, and though Cole is normally coordinated enough to gently place his own hand on his head, with this thing attached there was a lot of accidental face bonking going on. Way less cute than the usual random squirmings you see newborns doing.

Anyway, it was a marvelous thing to see his bare arms flailing around flapping like wings and curling up beneath him or reaching out to grasp things that may or may not have been there.

Last night I got to hold him again. It was great! He feels much bigger and heavier now, though that may be entirely in my head. Can I really tell the difference between 2 pounds and 2.4 pounds? Who cares, he's growing! A couple times, I selfishly thought that holding him while he's hooked up to CPAP is way less awesome than holding him while he's on the ventilator. He has a big plastic helmet surrounding his beautiful little head, he makes crazy wheezing noises from the constant flow of air, and he vibrates strangely because the whole thing bubbles. Then logic would kick in and I'd remember that he's way more comfortable, and way less supported; doing all his breathing with his very own lungs. Good stuff.

While holding him, it was so great to just feel his weight and warmth; a sleepy little blob on my chest. I must admit though, I liked it when he'd get annoyed or uncomfortable because then he'd wriggle around and readjust himself. Does that make me a terrible person? I just love to feel his little wheels turning.

Kate took some photos last night but they're still on the camera. I didn't have time to upload them because after returning from the Hospital I took off my shoes, crawled upstairs, and crashed instantly.

On the ball.

Apparently, preemies have no immune system. After Cole's bout with Pneumonia, they wanted to make sure the infection didn't spread to his nervous system, so they had to do a "spinal puncture." Nobody likes to be stabbed in the spine. Poor Cole handled it really well though, and after inspection, his spinal fluid showed no infection. Safe!

In other news, Cole has gained a little more weight and is eating a little more food and is generally in good shape. We are feeling good.

Poetry

Today's post is a poem by Garrison Keillor:

When I first saw you, kid, you were tiny and thin
And slimy and red and your head as mushed in.
I said to your mother "He looks kind of sloppy,
And two pound four ounces ain't big for a crappie."

But something about you, the look in your eyes,
Said you fully intend to grow to full size.
They slapped your backside and you let out a cry,
And I said "We will keep him, at least we shall try."

Some babies are born in nine months, by the clock.
Some babies are born, and they sit up and talk.
Some babies are born and no doctor is there.
But some babies come in on a wing and a prayer.

Poor little fetus as big as your hand.
Poor little fish thrown up on dry land.
Who came in late April, though he had till July.
Too small to live and too precious to die.

They shipped you downstairs to the big Neonatal
Intensive Care Unit's computerized cradle
And attached you to wires and stuck you with tubes
Monitored closely by digital cubes.

And thanks to the latest neonatal therapeusis
And regular basting with greases from gooses
And hot chicken soup intravenously fed
You did not fade away, you grew up instead.

We'll always remember the months that you spent
With tubes in your head in the oxygen tent
And the mask on your face, the wires attached,
Sweet little baby who was only half hatched.

I'm sure you'll grow up and mature and extend
To six feet six inches and become a tight end.
But I'll always remember each doctor and nurse in
The NICU who helped make you a person
The kid who crash landed, who was carried away,
Who survived it, this bundle we bring home today.

- Garrison Keillor

God, I look forward to the day we get to bring Cole home. In the meantime, we will daydream and read poetry while we keep a close watch on our little loved one as he fights his battles and sleeps his recoveries.

I can't think of a clever title.

Everything is going well so far. He is maintaining well on the CPAP, essentially at the same settings he was on with the ventilator. He only spelled twice today.



He is getting fat too! He is all of 2 pounds and 6 ounces! He also actually looks bigger. It might just be in my head, but the CPAP apparatus appears to fit him much better now, and he can barely be contained in the little nests they make him. He is finally becoming a man. Or at least a person, as recognized by the US government: yesterday his social security card arrived in the mail! He's official!

Kate's mom came up today to see Cole again. We had a good ol' time, as this blurry, under exposed picture proves:

What a day!

It was supposed to be a routine visit. We arrived for his 2 o'clock care appointment and took his temperature and changed him and everything was normal. Then we took him out of the incubator so Kate could hold him. That's not where the unexpected twist comes (which I know you're expecting, so I suppose I should just call it a plain old twist).



That's not a photoshop zoomie filter effect by the way, that's an accidental in-camera effect I got by zooming the lens while taking the shot. I don't know if you care or not, but I thought it was kinda neat. Anyway, here we were enjoying some quiet calm with Cole snoozing soundly on Kate's chest:






Nice right? Peaceful. Until he wriggled around and pulled his breathing tube out. One thing we've learned about Cole is that he is the master of his own destiny. He doesn't care what our plan is, or what the nurse's plan is. He knows what's best for him and he makes it happen. That's how we like to think of it anyway. Although that isn't exactly how we were looking at it while he was laying limp and turning blue in Kate's arms. We were feeling awful and scared and honestly I was preparing myself for the worst, which felt terribly empty, and hurt. 23 alarms went off, 47 nurses appeared and a manually squeezed oxygen bellows was placed on his face and he was whisked back into the incubator and calmly the nurses got his heart rate back up. Of course. They see this all the time. I keep forgetting that this is a roller-coaster ride that I'm on, and that Cole is in a tenuous situation while in the hands of miracle workers.

Funnily, they had been talking about putting him back on CPAP and taking the ventilator out. They were thinking that the intubation may have caused a little irritation which may have caused some of the breathing problems he was having which may have turned into Pneumonia. Which sounds like an awful result, but considering the alternative it was totally the way to go. However, he has grown a little and they're hoping he has developed enough to be able to handle the CPAP.

So there you have it. He's back on CPAP because he wanted to be, and 6 hours after the shit hit the fan, he's doing well.

Cheers, little man. Enjoy your new outfit, and thanks for the heart attack!



There's a baby in there somewhere.