What a year. For many, 2020 will be viewed with negative thoughts and feelings. For many, 2020 was filled with fear, disappointment, and sadness. People missed out on seeing their friends, visiting family for the holidays, going to the movies, and even enjoying a lovely dinner out with their spouse. No one knows how much longer we must live in isolation, with a sense of dread hanging over our heads. We haven’t seen the sincere smile of a stranger since March, as we’ve spent the last 9 months hidden beneath masks or behind closed doors. For many, 2020 could not be over sooner.
For Matt and I, 2020 brought us our first child, a curious and independent baby boy. It goes without saying I’m sure, but I never planned to have a baby during a pandemic. I imagined strangers commenting on my growing bump, laughing with family and friends at baby showers, and welcoming my parents and in-laws to the hospital to proudly meet their first grandchild. We expected to bring our sweet boy to meet family in California or along to dinner with friends. We hoped for playdates with my dear friend’s baby boy who was born in March. I even dreamed of Matt and I walking the aisles at Target picking out Christmas presents together, commenting on how much fun the baby toys were and how excited we were to wrap them.
Instead, Matt and I spent the last two months of my pregnancy in seclusion, praying we did not catch COVID. We spent four days at the hospital during my induction and birth, and no one visited. When Luke was admitted to Masonic Children’s Hospital, Matt went with him the first night, while I stayed home alone, fearing that if I saw family or friends I could bring the infection to the hospital. After we brought him home, no one held him but Matt and I for the first month. We had no professional photos taken. Friends and family did not come over. We made no travel plans. Other than our parents, our family has not met Luke. We did not peruse the toy aisles to pick out presents.
All that said, Luke has been the greatest joy. While for most, 2020 will invoke feelings of grief and anxiety, it was the best year of my life. I could not imagine waiting a second longer to meet our sweet little boy. Not only was this the year Luke was born, but it was the year he learned to smile, the year he began giving us kisses, and the year he started reaching for us to hold him. It was the year Luke started babbling, the year he discovered how to army crawl, and the year he tasted ice cream. Every morning when Luke gives us a big gummy smile, I am filled with love. I hope that in the next months or years, Luke is able to share his smile and love with more people.
So tonight, when most of the world will be wishing 2020 “good riddance,” I will think of the year with love and delight. It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly brought its challenges for us and the rest of the world. But it also brought Matt and me the sweetest blessing we could have ever hoped for. I will forever be thankful for this year and all the wonderful memories.
Thank you, Sweet Boy, for making your dad and me parents this year.
Luke is two months old! I am sure the parents reading this will understand me when I say parenthood is an absolute treasure, and it’s really something you only truly understand after you have kids. The first two months have flown by and our little baby has already grown so much! Thanks, Matt, for putting together this cute little video of our memories with Luke so far.
Luke’s Two-Month Updates:
He loves to smile at Mom and Dad in the mornings;
He now wants to explore his world more – he likes to be carried around the house rather than laying in someone’s arms;
He has accepted that diaper changes are a part of life, but now cries when the bottle of milk empties or when Mom and Dad take a break to burp him;
He still wakes up every 2-3 hours throughout the night. His new thing is being super smiley during his 3:00 am feeding. I tell him,”if you are smiling you aren’t tired enough”;
He can still roll from tummy to back and is working on rolling from back to tummy; and
He likes going for drives and staring out of the window or sunroof.
Two Months with MCADD
For those of you who read our previous posts, you know that Luke was diagnosed with MCADD on his newborn screening test. This means he cannot fast for more than 3.5 hours right now because he cannot break down a certain type of fat for energy. If he doesn’t eat on this schedule, he can go into metabolic shock. Scary consequences for something that seems so simple.
So far, Luke’s MCADD has been extremely manageable. Matt made a spreadsheet that we use to track all of Luke’s feedings so that we always know the latest time we have to feed. This means if we are driving or out and about when this time occurs, we have to pull over or stop what we are doing, even if Luke does not appear hungry, to feed him. If Luke is too sleepy, we have to resort to extreme measures to make sure he eats – such as starting with a diaper change, undressing him, or blowing cold air on him. It sounds harsh, but if Luke doesn’t eat on his schedule that means an immediate trip to the Emergency Room. Thankfully, we have not had any issues and the little guy loves his milk.
Luke’s schedule unfortunately also means we will not be sleeping through the night anytime soon. Matt and I are pretty good with trading off throughout the night, but most nights Luke wants to eat even more than every three hours. Needless to say, there are some sleepy mornings around here, but we’re happy to do it for our sweet little boy.
Matt and I are also fortunate to be working with a specialist team from the University of Minnesota that is familiar with children that have MCADD. We have a follow-up appointment later this week and will discuss whether Luke’s fasting window can increase and resources for when Luke goes to daycare in the fall. Like I said, so far things have been manageable so we hope they continue on that path!
Luke in the Great Outdoors
Because of COVID, we have not had the opportunity to do too much publicly with Luke but he did get to try out his first swim and boat ride last month! Luke did not love the cool (82 degrees) pool water at first but warmed up to it after we swam around with him a little. Dad also dunked him under the water (after blowing in his face to get him to hold his breath) and he handled it very well.
To celebrate the Fourth, we went out on a boat with Matt’s family on the St. Croix River. Luke was a trooper in his life jacket for a few hours and seemed to love the breeze on his face and rocking of the boat.
When we aren’t on the water, we take Luke for walks to Afton State Park or around the neighborhood. He will also sit by us if we have a fire in the backyard. He likes to get outside and is pretty content as we walk around. He has also met the neighbors who say they are excited to have a little baby in the neighborhood since most of the families around us have teenage kids.
Day to Day with Luke
Matt went back to work at the beginning of July which means Luke and I get to spend a lot of time together. Again, because of COVID, this means most of our time is spent at home. Being with Luke all day has been such a joy because I really get to see real-time of his little developments, from learning how to smile, to grabbing his toys and rolling over. Some of the things Luke likes doing at home include:
Waking Mom up at 6:00 a.m. with big smiles;
Listening to Mom sing Taylor Swift, Waylon Jennings, and Christmas songs (for some reason I am not up to date on my lullabies);
Playing on his play mat and (maybe intentionally) hitting the hanging animals;
Napping on Mom and Dad;
Crying so that Mom and Dad walk him around the house and show him things and let him look out the windows;
Staring at the ceiling fans and stair railing;
Taking warm baths; and
Hanging out in his swing.
We also go for car rides (we don’t have many errands to run) and visited Dad at work last week (in the parking lot). Last weekend Luke also watched his first Formula 1 race with us and we think go-karts may be in his future.
I am lucky enough to not go back to work until this fall and I have been cherishing every moment with our little man. Being a parent has already become such a big part of who I am and I am so proud to be Luke’s mom. I love watching him grow and learn and while I don’t want him to grow up so fast I also can’t wait to see the next thing he will learn or do.
For those of you that just read to see cute baby pictures, here is our Luke!
Today Luke is one month old! Time really does fly. Since we skipped ahead and did a post about Luke’s hospitalization and MCADD diagnosis before sharing his birth story, I thought this would be a good time to share his story. I am not sure how many people actually read this blog, but Matt and I have enjoyed writing down various events as a way for us to remember.
I was induced for Luke’s birth for two reasons. First, there is recent research about how inductions at 39 weeks, as opposed to waiting to go into “natural” labor, have more favorable outcomes for baby and mom – less risk of c-section and other complications. Second, the hospital recommended inductions for women in light of COVID to ensure a scheduled room and availability of a medical team. An induction also meant no back and forth to the hospital – we would check-in and not have to check out until after the birth. Before the induction, I had been having a few days of near-constant Braxton Hicks contractions so I was optimistic that baby wanted to be born soon!
At 4:00 p.m. on Monday, May 11, 2020, Matt and I parked the car at Woodwinds Hospital in Woodbury. I was 39 weeks and 3 days along. We double-checked that we had everything, as Matt would not be allowed to leave the room–let alone the hospital–while we were there (due to COVID). When we walked inside the hospital, we were screened for COVID symptoms and given masks that we had to wear inside the hospital. Then we walked up to the second-floor labor and delivery unit and were shown to our room.
In the room, I was allowed to take my mask off, but the nurse instructed Matt that he needed to keep his on at all times while anyone other than me was in the room. We also were told we weren’t allowed to leave the room (even to go in the hallway) and there would be no visitors allowed. This meant if we wanted a glass of water or coffee we had to page a nurse to get it for us. Finally, the nurses would take Matt’s temperature regularly and if he spiked a temp he would have to leave.
The nurse had me get into a gown and shortly after we arrived we started the induction process. The plan was to start with an oral pill overnight and then start a Pitocin drip in the morning. The pill was to help make induction more favorable before starting contractions.
To pass the time, Matt had given me a “push present” the day before — a Nintendo Switch! This meant I could play some games as we settled in for what I planned on being a 24-48 hour process. The evening was largely uneventful.
The next morning (May 12) we started a Pitocin drip around 11:00 a.m. Throughout the afternoon I had very mild contractions but labor did not progress very much. Therefore, around 4:00 p.m., our doctor stopped by to discuss options. We could go another hour on Pitocin, then either try another induction method (foley bulb) or she could break my water. I remember being a bit afraid that the doctor would rule it a “failed induction” and send me home to go into labor on my own, but she assured me that was not going to happen.
In the next hour, contractions finally started picking up, so at 5:00 p.m. the doctor broke my water. The next contraction was absolutely excruciating – I had planned on ultimately having an epidural but wanted to wait a bit to help labor progress, but I knew immediately I would not be able to wait. After the next contraction, I told the doctor and nurse I needed an epidural so they could start the process right away (they have to draw labs, call the doctor, etc.). I continued to labor for approximately two hours and was in absolute agony – due to the Pitocin, my contractions were practically on top of each other so I had no relief. Finally, the epidural was placed around 7:00 p.m. I was somewhat dilated at this time but we fully expected labor to last all night.
The Final Push
At 9:00 p.m., two nurses came into the room for a cervix check. One was a trainee who asked if she could also feel my cervix to learn, so she went first. As she was feeling around, she told the other nurse she wasn’t sure if she was doing it right because she didn’t feel the cervix–only the baby. The other nurse then checked as well and it turned out I was fully dilated! This meant push time was now. The nurse called the doctor who arrived around 9:45 p.m.
Now I started the pushing game. Most of us in the room assumed I would have the baby on May 12 (that same day), even if it took two hours to push (which would be a long time). How wrong we all were! Midnight passed and still no baby. I asked the doctor a few times if she was going to suggest a c-section since things were taking so long, but she explained that we were making good progress and the baby had been doing great with no heart rate decelerations so there was no reason for a c-section yet. After the birth, the OB told me she thought the baby was at the top end of what my pelvis could reasonably birth, which meant my 39 week induction was a great call. Any bigger and we would have been looking at a c-section for sure.
I continued to push for two more hours (yes that is four hours total!). Near the end, I certainly felt like I could not possibly do one more push, but we kept at it. Matt was the best support system and was part of the reason I was able to keep going and stay positive. Finally, Baby ended up being born in one final push–there was no stopping at the shoulders. Dad describes the birth as Baby “shooting out” into the doctor’s arms.
The next thing I knew, the doctor yelled, “And here’s your baby!” and placed Baby on my chest, who cried loud and hard immediately! At that moment, Matt announced the gender to the room. “It’s a boy!” We already had names picked out so I told Matt to tell the room what his name was and he shouted “Luke Matthew!” as he stood next to me beaming down at our son. Matt also got to cut the cord. We were both so happy. Luke was born at 1:58 a.m. on May 13, 2020.
After the Birth
Unfortunately, our happy emotions lasted only another minute or two. Although I was not entirely sure about what was going on, I overheard a nurse and my doctor discussing my placenta, and it appeared that some of it was still in my uterus causing major bleeding (I later learned this is referred to as a retained placenta). I also started to feel queasy due to loss of blood, and I remember telling a nurse that Luke “needed to go to his daddy” because it became clear to me I was not going to be able to safely hold him. The nurse grabbed him and handed him to Matt who sat on the couch with our son.
When my doctor realized the bleeding was not stopping, the room jumped into action. They placed an IV in my right hand (my left hand already had an IV) and pushed some medications immediately. From a combination of blood loss and drugs, I started to lose consciousness. I overheard a few things that I can recall:
“Do we need to get an OR?”
“She has an allergy bracelet – what is she allergic to?”
“She has an allergy bracelet – what is she allergic to?”
“Call the on-call OB.”
One of the last things I remember was looking over at Matt and Luke, who were sitting together on the couch. Matt was feeding Luke formula and Luke was all bundled up. I thought “what a nice view – my little family” and drifted off to sleep.
Because I was unconscious, I don’t really know what happened next except for what Matt told me. They weighed and measured Luke while I was out. He was 8 pounds, 9 ounces, and 21 inches long. I was also 8 pounds, 9 ounces at birth! While I’m sad I missed some first moments with Luke, I know he was in good hands with his dad.
Because I don’t have much of a memory regarding what happened during the next two hours, Matt wrote the next section of this post from his point of view.
The Hemorrhage (section written by Matt)
Luke’s cry permeated the air almost instantly after he was born. So quickly so I didn’t even have time to worry that he was okay.
“It’s a boy!” I announced to the room as one of the nurses passed him to Kristin. I looked at my new little boy laying on Kristin’s chest. What a sight. I was astonished, overjoyed, overwhelmed. Our OB handed me a set of scissors and I cut the cord.
The OB had known the whole time I had been curious about the process and asked me if I’d like to come take a look as she delivered the placenta. It came out easily and in one piece, which is what you hope for. As she continued to talk through what she was doing a voice spoke up above the rest.
“Doctor?” the nurse standing over the placenta uttered.
“Yes” the doctor said as she wheeled around.
“The placenta looks a little thin in this area”.
I walked over to the table and on the side of the placenta that attaches to the uterine wall there was a 2×2 chunk that was extremely thin. I heard Kristin say Dad needed to take the baby and I went over to her bedside and picked up Luke. I sat down on the couch in a place where I could still see everything that was going on. My little boy stared up at me with wide open eye’s. A nurse handed me a formula bottle and he eagerly started eating.
As I looked up at the room again there had been a palpable change in mood as I heard the OB talk about “retained placenta”. What was originally four people in the room had turned into ten. Our OB remained extremely calm as she rattled off medications/orders to the nurses who quickly began to look overwhelmed. They started another IV, gave Kristin several shots, and rattled off vital signs every minute or so. I could see a steady stream of blood continuing to trickle out of Kristin as the OB pulled small pieces of placenta out. A plastic bag was attached to the base of the bed that was catching all the blood, it was looking more and more full. Our OB asked the hospital OB to be paged who showed up and started to assist her in extracting the retained placenta. A nurse asked if we needed an OR. The things I was hearing didn’t sound good.
I started to feel numb. Blood was everywhere, on the floor, the bed, the sides of cabinets, on people. I wanted to ask what was going on but everyone was extremely busy and I didn’t want to distract anyone. I was sitting six feet from my wife holding our brand new son as I watched all of this. I’m not scared of much but I was fucking terrified this entire time. The prospect of losing my wife on the same day my son was born was the unimaginable, yet it felt like I might be watching it happen. Things continued like this for about two hours. Eventually, they got all of the placenta out and were able to stop the bleeding. The OB held up the bag of blood and measured it to be 2 liters, 1/3 of Kristin’s blood volume.
Around 4:00 a.m., the last person left the room and it got eerily quiet. Kristin was still unconscious and Luke was asleep in my arms. I didn’t really know what had happened and couldn’t really process anything until I did, so I had a nurse page our OB back to the room. I told her I was sorry and that I’m sure she was tired but I just need a quick explanation of what happened.
She explained that Kristin had a postpartum hemorrhage. Although it wasn’t immediately obvious, part of the placenta tore off when it was being removed. The placenta is full of blood vessels that connect to the mother’s body at the uterine wall. If pieces of it remain those blood vessels won’t clot and allow blood to continue to flow into the uterus. This will eventually kill you from blood loss and is the leading cause of maternal morbidity in the United States. Once she and the other OB that she paged removed the remaining pieces of placenta, they were able to get the bleeding to stop. Since she had lost 2 liters of blood the plan was to test her hemoglobin now and again at 0800 to see if she would need a blood transfusion and if so how much.
I thanked her and she left. Looking at the clock it was almost 5AM. I fed Luke and put him down so I could catch an hour of sleep.
The Morning (rest of blog authored by Kristin)
After the events of the evening (which actually continued until 4:00 a.m.), I woke up in our hospital room with a baby bassinet beside me and Matt fast asleep on the couch. There was a baby bundled up in a cream-colored swaddle in the bassinet. He made small little cooing sounds as he slept and I longed to hold him. Unfortunately, I was far too weak and could barely move due to blood loss. I knew holding him was not safe at that moment, so I slowly rocked his bassinet back and forth while lying in my bed. I could not believe that I had a baby.
Around 8:00 a.m., the nurses came in and told us they were moving us to a different room. They transported me in the bed as I could not walk, and Matt stayed to pack up the room and walk over with Luke in the bassinet. When we got to the new room, I finally held my baby. I am sure that everyone thinks their baby is the cutest newborn ever, but I think that is objectively true with Luke.
Because I had lost so much blood, I ended up getting two separate blood transfusions while in the hospital. After each one I felt much better and was slowly getting my strength back.
One of the interesting things about the hospital was that Luke did not go to the nursery. Instead, he stayed with us, which is a practice referred to as “rooming in.” This meant Matt got the hang of changing diapers at the hospital really fast and we go to spend a lot of time with our brand new baby. He kept us up almost all night the second night, but I am thankful for the time we spent together in the hospital because little did we know we would not get to spend as much time with him over the next few days.
We ended up staying in the hospital until Friday, May 15 (my due date). Luke passed all his hospital exams with flying colors and we were thrilled to be going home together after a four-night hospital stay.
As those of you who read Matt’s last post know, we unfortunately were only home for five hours before learning that Luke had tested positive for MCADD on his newborn screening, leading to a hospital admission for him for three days. I plan to make another post explaining my perspective dealing with his MCADD diagnosis and sharing an update being a month out – in summary, Luke is doing great and we have adjusted to parenthood quite well. We may already be discussing plans for future additions to the family. 🙂
Also, due to COVID, we were unable to schedule newborn photos for Luke, so we ended up doing them ourselves. Here are a few of our favorites:
Here’s a one-month update for Luke:
He rolled over when he was two weeks and one day old!
He likes to go for car rides and handled a three-hour trip to the lake quite well.
He can sleep through the sound of a vacuum cleaner but not the sound of the toilet lid closing.
He does not like diaper changes. One of the only times Luke will actually cry is during a diaper change. He also has very strong legs and will do everything in his power to stop the new diaper from being placed on. Sometimes he is almost successful.
He is a pretty good sleeper except for at 3:00 A.M. most nights.
He holds his head up and loves eye contact (especially with Mom).
He settles down when he hears music – it could be from his play mat, Dad playing Waylon Jennings, or Mom singing Christmas music.
I will say it is so true that this time absolutely flies. Luke barely fits into his newborn clothes anymore and is so alert during the day. He is a wonderful little baby and we couldn’t be happier! Matt tells me a lot the parenting is the greatest thing he has ever done and I couldn’t agree more. We hope to continue sharing updates about Luke in the future!
For those of you that haven’t heard, we had a beautiful baby boy early on the morning of Wednesday, May 13. I’m going to do a separate blog post covering how amazing bringing a kid into the world is but I just need to get the below post off my chest even though it happened after the birth.
Friday – 5PM
“This is Kristin.”
I heard in the other room. We had just been discharged from Woodwinds Labor and Delivery unit and were still unpacking at home.
I walked towards the sound of her voice coming from baby Luke’s nursery. We almost collided as she was walking out to get me. It was Luke’s pediatrician. Friday after 5PM, that’s a little odd I thought. Kristin sat down and put the phone on speaker. Luke’s doctor got to the point, his Minnesota Department of Health screening had come back with suspect levels related to a metabolic disorder called Medium-chain acyl-CoA dehydrogenase deficiency or MCADD. She explained that this was just a screening and didn’t mean he had the disorder but that further testing was needed as soon as possible to determine if he did. She asked us to go to the University of Minnesota Masonic Children’s Emergency Department to get labs done right now.
As we packed up the car and got Luke all ready to go, my mind couldn’t help but race. The feeling I got from the phone call was that this was out of an abundance of caution and we didn’t really have a reason to worry. Mostly I didn’t.
We got to the ER and only one parent was permitted to come in with Luke due to COVID. Kristin was still recovering from the birth so we decided I would go. I grabbed his little carrier and headed in, not what I pictured for our first Dad/son trip out of the house.
Our doctor had called ahead and we were brought back to an exam room and asked all the standard ER questions. It was tough being alone on day 1 with a newborn baby in the ER all by yourself. Frankly the tests were a nightmare. The nurses couldn’t find anywhere to draw blood so they spent what felt like an eternity tying to get a needle into a vein until they eventually just gave up and asked a lab tech to do it. The lab tech took some blood via an ankle prick and took some urine via a catheter. After three hours of mostly waiting, poking, and prodding we were back in the car.
Kristin and I chatted on the way home, we were both worried but still felt like it might have just been a fluke on the test. Kristin’s phone rang when we were about 10 minutes from home. My stomach jumped into my throat. She put it on speaker.
“Hi this is Tom from the emergency department at U of M Masonic. We just got some of Luke’s labs back. His blood sugar looks low and we need to retest it to see if it is still low.”
I spoke up, “We are 5 minutes from Woodwinds, should we go there to get it checked?”
“That sounds like a good option”
I took the next exit, the clock read 9PM. I could feel the anxiety rising inside me like an ocean tide. While waiting in the ER at Masonic, I had spent a fair amount of time reading about MCADD. It was an incurable genetic disorder and low blood sugar was a hallmark symptom. It was starting to feel less and less like his screening result was just a fluke.
Woodwinds knew we were coming and same as Masonic, Kristin was not allowed inside. I gave Kristin a hug and headed in. They tested his sugar right away.
“Still low, follow me”, the nurse said.
She led me back to an exam room where a Doctor stepped in and told me she had just talked to the Supervising Emergency Department Doctor at Masonic. They wanted Luke started on 10% Dextrose IV immediately to raise his blood sugar and then have us drive him back to Masonic.
A new challenge became clear immediately. Two emergency room nurses at a pediatric hospital couldn’t even find a place to draw blood for labs a few hours ago. All they do all day long is deal with pediatric patients and they couldn’t get it. How would Woodwinds, a hospital that doesn’t have a NICU and doesn’t specialize in pediatrics, get an IV in him?
They paged two nurses from the special care nursery upstairs and they got to work. Time ticked by as they poked place after place unable to get a needle in that worked. Eventually two different nurses came down to try and they wheeled in an ultrasound to help guide them. Since they had started my stress level had been rising steadily. 30 minutes had passed and I was pinned to the ceiling at this point. I couldn’t sit down, had a lump in my throat, and felt sick to my stomach. Masonic was 21 minutes away and as the clock pushed 45 minutes since they started trying I asked them to page the ER Doctor.
“This isn’t working, we could have been at Masonic where they specialize in caring for patients Luke’s age 20 minutes ago. At this point it’s seeming likely they might not ever get an IV in, is it time to cut our losses and get to Masonic?”
“Okay I’m going to call the ED at Masonic, I want their input and then we’ll make a decision. I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later she returned.
“I just talked to the Masonic and they agree let’s get him to there. The transfer team is on their way right now should just be 10 or 15 minutes.”
“Transfer team? Does he need to go by ambulance?” I said.
“Yes, he’ll need to go via ambulance.”
I lost it. It felt like this whole thing was spiraling out of control.
“Does he need that? We want to do what you think is best but we can’t take him?
“I think an ambulance would be best”
I didn’t realize he was that bad. He needed to go by ambulance? Was he going to be okay? Were we going to lose our beautiful baby boy before he was even four days old? I called Kristin. She had ran home, packed me a bag and was waiting in the parking lot to take us to Masonic. I told her about the plans with the ambulance, we both broke down. Luke would be going on his first ambulance ride before he’s even spent a night at home.
The doctor returned. They had retested his blood sugar and it had gone up. She called Masonic with the news and they said we could bring him now as long as we didn’t stop anywhere. They were going to stop trying to place an IV and send us to Masonic. A tiny wave of relief came over me, we’d been drawing bad cards all night long and it felt like we just drew our first good one with his blood sugar going up.
The clock on the wall read 10:50PM, I got him all situated in his carrier and ran him out to the car. Kristin jumped in the back with him and I climbed in the drivers seat. There wasn’t much to say on the way over, we were both scared. It was hard to look at our little boy, who had no visual symptoms of anything, and think he had an incredibly rare incurable genetic disorder. We called both our parents. Neither of us could keep it together to explain what was going on so we took turns filling them in.
We got to Masonic and again had to part ways at the door. I kissed Kristin and she kissed Luke before heading in. Doing this alone made this whole thing so much harder. Kristin had to go sit alone at home all night wondering how her newborn kid was doing. I was alone at the hospital, watching Luke be poked and prodded and trying to keep Kristin updated.
We were lead again to an ER exam room, this time the charge nurse greeted me. She said she was sorry for what we had gone through so far and that Luke needed an IV and she had paged two NICU nurses to come down and place it. In the meantime she would try and place one herself but promised not to poke him unless she was confident it would work. She couldn’t get one but shortly two NICU nurses showed up who were able to get an IV placed in a matter of minutes. They took some blood for additional labs and put a urine bag on him before telling me to hop on the bed and taking us upstairs.
A nurse wheeled us down a long corridor to a bank of elevators. Despite being a hospital the area we were in had the feeling of a school after hours, mostly empty, mostly dark. The nurse pushed the button for the fifth floor. When they opened we were met with locked double doors with a sign saying “Medical/Surgical 5th South”. The nurse scanned his badge and wheeled us past room after room on the ward until wheeling us into a large private room with a medical crib in the middle.
Another nurse was standing in the room. She introduced herself as Karina and told us she was assigned to take care of Luke tonight. I set down Luke in the crib and she started what would be the first of a barrage of vitals and glucose checks that would occur around the clock.
A resident swung by our room. She basically had no info except that overnight we’d keep him on 10% dextrose and monitor his blood sugar every four hours. A metabolic specialist was overseeing our case and would contact us a some point tomorrow.
After we got settled in I laid down on the couch the nurse had put a sheet and pillow on. It was now around 2AM and it was the first time since 5PM that I’d really had a chance to take a breath. In 9 hours my entire life had changed. Just bringing our first kid home from the hospital we felt like we were on top of a mountain. Now I felt like we had been thrown off a mountain. I felt helpless laying there. I had no answers, no plan, no nothing. I tried to just focus on taking care of Luke and getting through the night.
Saturday – 7AM
I’m not sure you can really say I woke up the next morning. Between nurse checks, feedings, diaper changes, and processing what was going on I’m not sure I slept more than an hour or two. When I did decide to get up I was dismayed to find I was in the same reality I had gone to sleep in. It sounds cliche but it really did feel like a bad dream.
At this point the information we had about MCADD was almost all from the internet. The one doctor I had talked to so far didn’t know much about it and was just repeating a treatment plan she had gotten from the metabolic specialist overseeing our case. I’d made repeated requests to the staff to schedule a time to speak with the specialist but hadn’t heard anything yet.
A nurse that dropped by had mentioned while Kristin and I weren’t able to both be at the hospital, we could swap out as many times a day as we wanted. I called Kristin right away and asked if she’d like to come see him. I’d been sleeping on hospital couches since Monday night and could really use a few hours at home to shower and try and catch some sleep. She eagerly agreed and said she’d be there in two hours.
We swapped out and I was barely on the freeway and the nurse called me. The metabolic specialist was driving in to meet with us and would be there in 15 to 30 minutes. The doctor wanted us both there and forced security to make an exception and let us both speak with her in person.
Dr. Sarafoglou walked into the room and spoke with a confidence we had yet to hear out of anyone in any hospital yet. She said she made a trip to the hospital today specifically to meet with us because she wanted to reassure us. She explained, at a high level, MCADD is an incurable genetic metabolic disorder where the body has an inability to break down a certain type of fat into ketones. Without those ketones the body consumes glucose for energy instead, this can cause the persons blood sugar to drop continually until they become hypoglycemic. Hypoglycemia can cause seizures, loss of unconscious, brain damage, and eventually death if untreated. Fortunately, the fix for this is fairly simple. You just need to eat. For newborns that means eating every three hours. Once you hit three or four years old you can go 12 hours without eating and that usually stays your limit for life.
This disorder is extremely manageable she said. If you had to pick a metabolic disorder to have, MCADD is the one. Luke will have a normal life. He’ll play sports. He’ll run. He’ll play with other kids. He’ll do everything a normal kid will. Being parents of kid with MCADD will require two things of you. First, your threshold for calling the doctors office will need to be much lower. For example, being sick increases the bodies energy use and often makes people lose their appetite, that combination is bad news for people with MCADD. We would want you to call the metabolic on-call doctor and track his intake and temperature carefully. If necessary, you may need to come into the hospital to receive IV dextrose. Secondly, you’ll have to ensure he is regularly fed and doesn’t fast for any period of time greater than three hours until he gets a few months older.
She laid out a plan for discharge. This evening we would stop the IV dextrose that Luke was on. This would start a test where we would feed Luke every three hours while checking his blood sugar every four hours. If his blood sugar stayed above 70 throughout the night, the test would be considered passed. If he passed the test showing he could maintain his blood sugar on his own we would be discharged the next day.
We spent another half hour asking her questions. Things like how does this compare in terms of manageability to something like diabetes (MCADD is much easier to manage). One of the things that became clear at this moment was what different places Kristin and I were at in terms of processing this. As the doctor left, Kristin burst into tears but I was feeling much more optimistic. I remember looking over at Luke and thinking, we can do this.
As Kristin and I talked it became clear the doctor speaking with us really extinguished the hope she was holding on to that this was all a mistake and he actually didn’t have this. She was just now accepting our new reality. I found myself going through that the previous night. I had accepted the diagnosis and was just trying to deal with the prognosis. From what the doctor said our outlook looked fairly positive. Not being able to go through this together due to COVID had put us in different places, adding yet another complexity to everything that was going on.
I headed home to get some rest but couldn’t settle down. Oddly, I ended up mowing the lawn. Somehow a mundane task like that took the edge off. I did a few other things around the house, laid down to rest for a bit, showered, and then headed back to the hospital.
Saturday – 8PM
I pulled into the underground garage at the hospital and called Kristin. I was going to take the night shift with Luke again. She appeared from the elevator bank ten minutes later. We hugged, talked briefly and then parted ways with a quick kiss, not wanting to make the nurse watching Luke wait too long.
I walked into the room and was greeted by the nurse rocking Luke in her arms. The staff had been pretty damn amazing on this floor, they took care of us like family. I fed him, changed him, put him down, and settled in to my makeshift bed. I was optimistic, after hearing what the doctor said, we’d be out of here by the tomorrow. We had a plan and a baby with a manageable condition, even if it is rare and incurable. I spent the night waking up every two or three hours to feed and change him.
Sunday – 5AM
I jumped awake. The charge nurse Alex was standing over me with her hand on my shoulder. I abruptly sat up, startling her.
“Sorry! I just wanted to let you know Luke’s blood sugar just tested at 50.”
“Shit”, I said out loud. She told me they had paged the on-call doctor on the floor and they’d ordered his IV dextrose restarted. Basically, we had just gone back to square one and we weren’t going home tomorrow. I immediately felt defeated, the semblance of control I’d felt earlier after meeting with the doctor was gone. The uncertainty came rushing back. If he can’t manage is own blood sugar how can he leave the hospital?
My mind ticked, as I watched the nurse feed him 12 milliliters of formula. A recheck 45 minutes later showed his blood sugar at 93. The nurse called the doctor and I could hear her audible surprise over the phone. This only added to my confusion. Are swings that big in blood sugar even possible? I looked at the clock and it was almost six. I sent Kristin a message, not really say what else other than then he’d tested at 50 and was back on the IV.
Kristin was heading to the hospital for another swap out with me. We still didn’t have a new plan from the doctors. He was still on the IV dextrose. Same routine as before, she parked in what was becoming our usual parking spot in the underground hospital garage. I grabbed a nurse to watch Luke while I ran down.
Being at home allowed from some decompression but after a few hours you start to feel a ‘cabin fever’ type anxiety. Wondering what’s going on at the hospital. Wondering how my kid doing. Wondering that the plan was going to be.
Kristin called me sometime later and said the resident doctor had stopped by. The new plan was to start him on a nutritional supplement called L-carnitine three times a day. The metabolic team didn’t have the lab results back yet but suspected lack of this supplement in Luke’s body may have caused the big dip we saw last night. They were starting the supplement immediately and the plan was to repeat last nights test again, if he passed we’d be going home tomorrow.
I tried to get some sleep before I’d head back to the hospital for the night shift with Luke.
Monday – 1AM
Back at the hospital I was stirred awake by a commotion near Luke’s crib. Two nurses were hovering over him. After several minutes they were still there and I had seen the blood sugar meter but I almost didn’t want to ask, fearful of the answer.
“What was is blood sugar”, I blurted out.
“67”, our nurse Karina said.
Fuck fuck fuck I thought. Again we are back at square one, are we ever going to get out of this place. The nurse must have sensed my frustration.
“We just talked to the resident, they told us not to intervene and we are going to retest it shortly.”
“Do they think it could be a fluke?”, I said.
“They think it’s possible.”
I waited anxiously while they pricked his heel for the second test. The blood slowly traveled up the test strip to the machine. A countdown from 5 started. At zero the machine flashed blank and then read 83. The nurse and I looked up at each other. I could tell she wanted to assuage me but didn’t want to tell me something she didn’t know for sure. She called the resident. They were going to check it again in an hour and if it was still above 70 they weren’t going to consider the 67 reading an error. They hadn’t done anything to intervene and it had gone up on it’s own which doesn’t make any sense unless the reading was an error.
Monday – 8AM
Kristin had just called telling me she was pulling in the ramp. It sounded like we were going to get out of here today but we still planned on doing a parent swap so I could go home and freshen up just in case we had to stay another night.
Mid-afternoon came and Kristin called me to tell me we were going home! We had one final call with the metabolic doctor managing our case and got all our questions about managing a baby with MCADD at home. It really was fairly simple and boiled down to, feed him every three hours and call us if he gets sick or stops eating.
My mood was over the top driving back to the hospital. Kristin came down since she still couldn’t carry anything having given birth so recently. I packed everything up and got us the hell out of there.
Getting everyone in the car and all loaded up it felt good, to be a family again together.
It’s Thursday at 9PM and we are doing a lot better. I found a few blogs written by parents who have kids with MCADD. I decided to email one of them that hadn’t posted in several years to see if they would give us an update on how their kid was doing. Hearing parents talk about their older kid with MCADD felt like looking into our future. They sent me the below reply:
Congratulations on the birth of your son! Getting an MCADD diagnosis is so scary and unexpected. I’m glad that you found my blog and I hope that it offers you some optimism for the future. The first year is a lot. The feeding schedule is pretty demanding and you’ll find yourself quite sleep deprived, but know that it definitely gets easier as he grows. The feeding schedule will stretch out every couple months and will disappear completely by the time he’s a toddler. You’ll go from setting 4 alarms a night to setting none at all before you know it.
Our son is now 10 years old. He is healthy, smart, creative, funny, an amazing athlete and also compassionate beyond his years. He lives a very normal life and MCADD has never held him back from anything he wanted to do. In fact, the vast majority of people who know him have no idea that there’s anything different about him. Other than eating a hearty snack at bedtime (usually a yogurt and some granola) and taking a levocarnitine supplement, he eats, snacks and plays like most ordinary kids and doesn’t have any dietary or activity restrictions whatsoever. He played on a basketball team for the winter and there was one game where his team was shorthanded so he happily played the entire game. He sipped on Gatorade instead of water during the pauses in play and he had whatever snack the team parents passed out afterwards. When we got home, he went out and rode bikes with his friends for the rest of the afternoon until we called him in for dinner.
The only thing that’s a little different for our family is that we need to watch him really closely when he is sick with any illness that causes vomiting, diarrhea or loss of appetite. If he isn’t able to eat 2/3 of his normal intake, that tends to trigger a trip to the hospital where our metabolic doctor calls ahead to let them know we’re coming, he gets an immediate IV of 10% dextrose when he arrives and we hang out there watching movies until he can eat enough on his own again (usually overnight, but sometimes up to a couple days). Hospitalizations happen VERY infrequently as he has gotten older – maybe once every couple years and usually when there is a particularly nasty germ going around at school. Our older son usually weathers that same virus on the couch with a puke bucket and some pedialyte, but our MCADD kid needs the IV as a safety net to make sure he doesn’t get into anything dangerous like a metabolic crisis. MCADD is all about preventing a metabolic crisis and you do that by avoiding fasting.
Please don’t be heartbroken about the diagnosis. It takes some getting used to, but see if you can find a way to think about it less as a “disease/disorder/sickness” and more as “information” about how your son’s body works a little bit differently. That information is very powerful and has already saved his life. And, it will continue to save his life because you know how to keep him safe. The best part is that keeping him safe doesn’t require anything complicated. You really just need to make sure he’s eating regularly. MCADD doesn’t have to limit his life or yours in any way.
Congratulations again! Feel free to reach out anytime you have questions about “real life” with MCADD.
I probably read the email ten times. It really assured Kristin and I that Luke would lead a normal life with the exception of some extra snacks and Gatorade. We only have three nights under our belt but it already feels more manageable than we expected.
I know this has been a marathon of a post but it was much needed to get this all out. We are optimistic going forward and excited to watch little Luke grow!
I stared at the screen as it slowly spit out paper with lines bouncing up and down on a graph. A soft, but strong, heartbeat played from the machine.
“140” it read.
Hang in there kiddo, we are on the home stretch now.
To back up a little bit, last Wednesday we had our 38 week appointment. Kristin was showing a lot of signs favorable to labor during the checkup. After some discussion with our Doctor, we decided on an induction the following Monday. Kristin would be 39 weeks and 3 days then. It might sound a little odd that we are getting induced prior to our due date, but our Doctor encouraged us citing some research that inducing in week 39 was a good choice for both baby and Mom. Before being admitted to the hospital Kristin was required to get a COVID-19 test, she was negative! Our strict quarantine rules were finally paying off.
While the days had already been going by slowly, they moved at a glacial pace now that we had a date set. We spent Thursday and Friday doing some last minute cleaning around the house. Saturday and Sunday we enjoyed our last days with just the two of us, thinking about how different our life would be a week from now.
Last night I could tell Kristin was getting a little anxious for the task ahead so I decided to surprise her with a push present (a present to show your wife all the work of pregnancy is appreciated) a little early. Kristin always enjoyed playing our Nintendo Wii so I thought a Nintendo Switch with a copy of Animal Crossing and Mario Odyssey would be perfect! Unfortunately, with COVID closing down the factories that make Switch parts and everyone quarantining at home, switches were near impossible to find. Luckily the best man at my wedding, Tyler, came through and found one for me after weeks of searching. I was able to run and pick it up without Kristin ever being the wiser.
Time passed a little faster with the distraction of Kristin setting up her own Island in Animal Crossing.
Waking up today felt surreal. The morning went surprisingly quick between packing up and getting ready. Before I knew it we were on our way to the hospital for our 4PM check-in. We were greeted at the door with masks we had to don and told to make our way up to labor and delivery. A nurse greeted us at the elevator and led us to our room, they feel a bit like a hotel at Woodwinds. Fridge, shower, bath, TV, and thankfully for me a nice big couch to sleep on. Due to the COVID situation we are unable to leave our room for any reason and since I haven’t had a COVID test I have to wear a mask whenever staff is in the room. It seemed like a small price to pay when the possibility of me not being there at all was on the table last month.
Amy, our nurse was awesome. She ran us through a bunch of stuff and laid out the plan ahead. Tonight we will start Cytotec, a drug that isn’t intended to induce labor but will get your body ready for labor. Tomorrow morning we will likely start Pitcoin, which should induce labor. Kristin got changed into a gown, her fetal monitor hooked up, Cytotec started, and dinner delivered shortly after we arrived. On admission her blood pressure was fairly high, two subsequent readings were also high so our Doctor ordered some labs since that can be a symptom of preeclampsia. 45 minutes later we found out everything was fine and a fourth reading of her blood pressure showed it back in the normal range. A sigh of relief was audible from both of us. Thankfully they didn’t take my blood pressure, with how anxious I am they’d probably be admitting me.
That’s about all the excitement we’ve had thus far right now it’s 8:23PM and Kristin is resting while watching Harry Potter on the TV. I think we are both pretty anxious and excited for the journey ahead. One thing is for sure, I am ready to meet this baby.
It’s week 36, which means at the very longest we will be meeting Baby Simonet in five weeks. However, Kristin could wake me up at 3:00am tomorrow morning and we could meet the kiddo tomorrow. That uncertainty is very exciting, like Christmas except you’re not really sure when the presents, or in this case one big present, are going to show up.
I mentioned in my last post that I started a leave from my office last week and Kristin has been working from home since the middle of March. With all this extra time at home, and all the restaurants being closed, we’ve really started to get better at cooking
We weren’t bad before, or at least Kristin wasn’t. Previous to this I had focused on a few meals and got them down pat, just enough to lead a woman on to thinking I can cook. You can keep up the illusion of being a good cook for a few months with just that. Anyway, with all our free time we’ve both been working on getting a few more home cooked meals under our belt. Kristin made the above Beef and Broccoli this weekend and boy was it delicious.
Last week I attempted to make, for the first time in my life, chocolate chip cookies from scratch. Kristin swears up and down they were good, but they turned out more like biscuits than they did cookies. I misread the recipe I was following and instead of putting two cups of chocolate chips I puttwo tablespoons.I know what you’re thinking – how in the hell did he not realize that wasn’t enough chocolate chips? At the time it didn’t even occur to me, I just thought the person writing this recipe knows a hell of a lot more than I do. Additionally, I wasn’t aware how precise you need to be with the flour measurements, I definitely put in too much which resulted in some awfully dry cookies.
Ah, but it was time for redemption. Sunday night Kristin went upstairs for a bath and once I heard the bathroom door shut I whipped out cooking supplies and went to town. Later delivering some delicious moist cookies, with an appropriate number of chocolate chips, directly to the bath tub. A small victory for most people in the kitchen but I gotta take the baking wins when I get them.
We also found out that a 12 ounce can of Mich Golden works great to make pizza dough if you don’t have any yeast. Pizza on the grill, also an awesome idea if you like crispy grill-marked pizza crust.
Besides the cooking, this week brought one of many growth ultrasounds we’ve had to have. Kristin has marginal cord insertion and if you have no idea what that means you’re in good company because neither did I. Long story short the umbilical cord is supposed to attach to the placenta, where it gets all it’s blood and nutrients, in the center. If your cord is within an inch or two of the edge of the placenta, it’s considered a “marginal cord insertion.” This is completely fine, and extremely common, as long as it stays an inch or two away from the edge. Where you get into trouble is if, as the placenta grows, the cords insertion point goes over the edge which is much more rare. One of the symptoms of this is a sudden slow down in your baby’s growth. To make sure this isn’t happening we have more frequent ultrasounds to make sure our kiddo is right on schedule.
While this probably doesn’t sound great to you it’s really not a big deal. I know it sounds a little weird but I’ve honestly enjoyed it because we get to see Char way more often on these frequent ultrasound visits.
No, you didn’t misread that, I referred to our expectant kiddo as “Char”. Kristin and I are not finding out the gender and it always felt weird to refer to our kid as “it”. Early on we decided to just use him or her interchangeably. At week seven our kid got his first nickname. Kristin sent me the below picture from an app she had that gives her a weekly update on how the baby is developing. I immediately thought of the Pokemon, Charmander. Somehow that stuck and ever since week seven we’ve been referring to her as Char, a nickname I’m betting will stick long after birth.
I briefly touched on it my last post, but it’s hard not to talk about COVID-19. We’ve done everything we possibly can to ensure we’re both healthy when Char arrives. Basically we never leave the house except to go to Doctors appointments and on leisure drives. At this point if we catch it, we were always going to catch it and there’s nothing else we can do.
For a period of time, two major NYC hospital systems banned birth partners, leaving all mothers giving birth alone. It loomed as a reality Kristin and I might have to accept, and not a welcome one. Our biggest concern proceeding this news was accepting there likely wouldn’t be any family allowed at the hospital. That now seemed insignificant as we faced the possibility that I’d have to meet my first kid over video chat and Kristin would have to give birth alone. A week or two after these hospital chains announced this new policy, the Governor of New York signed an executive order requiring hospitals to allow at least one birth partner. This offered some relief as it seemed likely other states would take similar measures if hospitals tried to enact strict no birth partner policies. All of the sudden not having our families able to be at the hospital during the birth didn’t seem that bad. It’s a bummer but at this point we’ll be happy as long as Kristin and I can be together through the whole thing and we bring a healthy baby home.
We’ve yet to talk to our pediatrician about how we should deal with visitors once we bring Char home but that’s definitely floating in the back of our minds. The Minnesota stay-at-home order is set to expire on May 4th, although it seems likely it’ll get extended, I would assume our pediatrician will tell us to avoid visitors for some period of time. Hopefully our parents can meet their new grandchild fairly soon. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to last not showing her (or him) off to every single person I meet.
I’ve been slowly writing this blog post over the course of the week, it’s now 7:55PM on Wednesday the 23rd. Barring labor starting in the next 28 hours, we are going to make it to week 37, but you never know…
Just a forewarning, continue reading this blog at your own risk. Since I won’t likely be able to show off my new kiddo in person to everyone, this blog will basically be all baby pictures and videos going forward once Char arrives.
Faint? I thought. What the hell does that mean? How can it be faint? This isn’t horseshoes, you’re either pregnant or you’re not. Almost isn’t an option.
“I don’t know maybe I’m just imagining it, the line is barely there. It’s early I’ll have to test again when I get home.”
It was the first week of September and Kristin was out of town for work. She wouldn’t be back for a few days and I dreaded the anticipation. My thoughts raced as I tried to fall asleep, we’d been trying to get pregnant for a few months. The thought that it might finally be happening had me feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement as I drifted off.
The next few days were a blur. I tried not to get my hopes up and neither did Kristin, so we barely mentioned it when we talked on the phone. I anxiously awaited her arrival. To my surprise she didn’t mention it at all when she walked in the door.
As I carried her bags up to the bedroom, Kristin sped into the bathroom without saying a word. I was instantly suspicious. I flopped down on the bed, staring intently at the bathroom door, as if I stared hard enough I’d be able to see if she was taking a test or not. Seconds ticked by at a glacial pace. After what felt like hours she emerged. I scanned her face looking for any clue but found none.
“What?” she said unconvincingly.
“Well, did you take a test?!”
I’ll be honest. I’ve tried but I can’t remember exactly what she said next. I’m not sure if I just didn’t write this soon enough or if I was so overwhelmed with emotion the words weren’t important to my memory.
“Ahhhhh, yes!!!” I exclaimed as she held up the test.
I didn’t even look at it. I picked her up in a bear hug, pulling her on to the bed. I was overcome with joy, I felt like I had just won an Olympic gold medal!
I finally looked at the test and saw a faint, but undeniable, line. We were pregnant. My brain flooded with thoughts. Kristin had exhaustively read about pregnancy. She regularly transferred this knowledge to me over the past few months. My mind flashed back to her filling me in on miscarriage rates and how they steadily decrease from the day of conception. I tried to temper my excitement with some caution but it felt like trying to put out a large house fire with an eyedropper.
We were going to have a baby. Nine months suddenly felt like a much shorter period of time.
I stared at the test and wondered whether I should call Matt or wait for a more definite answer. What if I get his hopes up? Would I be ruining the surprise? I was on a work trip in Ohio for one more night so wasn’t sure if I could keep it all to myself for that long.
After a few minutes, I called Matt and told him there may be a line but it was hard to tell. “Oh okay.” Was all I can remember him saying. I wasn’t overly excited because I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I assumed he felt the same way. After talking about the test briefly, I told him I could take another after I got home tomorrow. We didn’t bring it up again for fear that we would jynx it.
After my plane landed in Minneapolis the next day around 5:00 p.m., I had a plan. I drove straight to Target to pick up more tests and a little surprise gift for Matt in case it all turned out how we hoped. I walked up and down the aisles in the baby section looking for something gender neutral but adorable for a newborn. I settled on a back of onesies with a “bear” theme – the first onesie said “baby bear.” I frantically drove home.
When I got home, Matt met me at the door. We had not said anything about the possibility of a baby since I called him the night before. We still said nothing. He helped me inside with my suitcase. I walked upstairs quickly, but calmly, to go confirm whether a little Baby Simonet was on the way.
After I took the test, I set it down and occupied myself with my phone for a few minutes in the bathroom. I had a lot of thoughts. Okay, if it’s positive, I can give Matt the onesie? Or do I give him the test? Do I bring it up right away?
When I looked over at the test after a few minutes, the line was unmistakable. I took a deep breath and opened the door to go downstairs and tell Matt. To my surprise, he was sitting on the bed. I had not heard him come upstairs, and part of me thought maybe he forgot about the whole conversation we had the night before.
“Well?” he said anticipatorily.
“Did you take a test?”
I didn’t quite have the words and knew I could not contain my excitement for another second. I walked back into the bathroom, grabbed the “baby bear” onesie, and handed it to Matt. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but I know we shared a big hug. Then Matt walked into the bathroom and looked at the test himself. I followed just to make sure I hadn’t made the whole thing up. Turns out the line was real!
The next few weeks were filled with a strange mix of feelings. May 15th emerged as our official due date. We joined an online group with around 2,000 other people that are due the same month as us. It seemed like every few days someone was posting about how they were “out” meaning they miscarried and were leaving the group. This tempered my excitement often, and I think Kristin’s just as much. Every day that passes you feel a little more excitement and a little less nervous.
Kristin and I had decided not to tell a soul until our chances of miscarrying went down. Keeping the secret is nearly impossible. At times it feels like it’s going to explode out of you. A week after we had found out Kristin spilled the beans while guzzling Root Beer’s (which apparently do not look like real beer) at my ten year high school reunion when a friend, who knew we were trying, called her out. She stumbled on her answer and the friend knew. We swore her to absolute secrecy, we were not ready for the world to know. After that we knew we had to up our game, we pulled out all the stops. I was filling beer cans with water, swapping drinks on the fly with Kristin to make it look like she was drinking the wine she ordered, and anything else we could think of to throw people off the trail.
About a month later we decided it was time to tell our parents. My mother seemed to have been suspicious for quite sometime, so I really felt the need to throw her off the trail. Both Phil and Sue helped us a ton moving into our new house in August, so we said we’d gotten them a gift and would come over that night to have a cocktail and give them the gift. Kristin and I went and picked up a baby blanket and two mugs that said, “recently promoted to grandma/grandpa”.
Once we got to their house I ran out to the garage to grab us some drinks. I opened a hard seltzer and dumped it out, filling the can with water. We gave them the blanket first, which they legitimately thought was a gift for helping us move. Upon opening the mugs they realized that we were in fact having a baby. They were elated. Some quick explaining was needed about the hard seltzer Kristin had finished a bit ago. We definitely fooled them and my suspicions proved to be correct about my mother, she had a card already filled out congratulating us, and had been carrying it around for months.
The next few months were filled with lots excitement, telling friends, even a trip to Hawaii, all while slowly watching Kristin’s bump grow. Things seemed to speed by until January, everyday since then seems to move a little slower.
We are now on the agonizing home stretch. Agonizing both in the sense of time and Kristin’s physical state. Once you get down to the final month, moving in any capacity becomes a chore. Additionally we seem to have what must be the most active kid ever in the womb, and while that’s thrilling for me to be able to feel the near constant kicks and punches, it’s not as thrilling for Kristin when it’s 3:00am. I think the anticipation growing about finally meeting our little kiddo is slowing down time. Everyday crawls by at this point. COVID-19 has made things a little more complicated but we’ve managed through it. Kristin has been working from home since early March. I just started a leave from my office so we can both quarantine leading up to the birth. If either of us become ill now, Kristin will likely have to labor and give birth alone. After which both of us would likely be separated from our new family member to prevent them from getting COVID-19.
Despite all that, it’s nearly impossible to suppress the overwhelming joy and excitement you feel leading up to a newborn babies arrival. Kristin will be 36 weeks this Friday, which basically means the kiddo could arrive any day. We even have the hospital bag already packed. Until then we’ll just be taking it day by day, hanging out at home, waiting for the little guy or girl to arrive.