Don't Panic!

No seriously, don't panic.

We're still waiting, still getting ready mentally and physically for the baby. There's not a whole lot to say right now, to be honest; and this kind of feels like the calm before the storm. We're going to have a shit-ton of things to talk about very soon, but for now we're still waiting and we are getting more and more impatient.

There are some things that I want to say to someone out there, though. Someone special. Someone who is my son.

Be safe, little guy. Be safe in your little sanctuary. Be safe, and be healthy and do whatever it is that you need to do in these last couple of weeks.

I can't wait to see you, and I can't wait to start to bond with you. Your mom and I have been watching a show called '16 and Pregnant' recently (if you ever get a girl knocked up when she's 16 I'll chop your bollocks off, okay?) and we've both been getting a little emotional watching these babies getting born.

When you come out, you're immediately going to become the most important person in my world. I love your mom to death and I'd do anything for her (except for rubbing her feet). I love your aunts and uncles, I love your grandparents. I love myself, kinda. But when you come out, you'll be something special; something unique.

I'm really fucking scared little buddy, I'm really fucking scared that I'll let you down, that I'll not give you everything that you need, that I'll not be the best father that I can be.

I'm going to give this all I have though. When I leave this world I won't be thinking 'have I been the best office worker that I could be?', I won't be thinking 'did I ever make the most of my mad skillz?', I won't be thinking 'I can turn right on red here, right?' (maybe that'll be the penultimate thing I think), I will be thinking 'was I the best father that I could be?'

That's how I'll judge myself, that's how much you mean to me.

Good luck, little guy. Good luck in this world of increasing danger and political stupidity. There are some brilliant minds on this planet that keep amazing me and which keep advancing our species further. There are also some crazy fuckers who keep being elected to office and who keep reinforcing the crazy. I can't even imagine how this world will look in 30 years, but when you are my age I imagine that things will be pretty different. All that I can say is, enjoy the ride, don't take anything too seriously, and always treat everyone how you want to be treated yourself.

This last piece of advice also applies to when you're a newborn. If you piss on me when I'm changing your diaper......

Above all, please remember that I am not the finished article and neither are you. We will learn this shit together, and we will laugh and cry together. We are both going to evolve, learn, love and fart because it's funny.

We're going to have a blast. Let's do this!

My How You've Grown!

We had another ultrasound this morning. From now on they will be weekly, meaning that Alise and I will both be getting up early and driving into Boston for 7am appointments, every Tuesday until the boy arrives. We'll be so much happier when he's come and we can sleep in! Mmwwhhaaaa!!!

 

The boy is now 6lbs, 10 clicks and is pretty much ready for departure. He's kind of squished in, and the photo doesn't really show much apart from the fact that he seems to have really big lips. It looks like he still has hair, and he's growing well. If things go according to plan he'll be around 8 and a half pounds (13 dollars or so) when he's born.

 

And... still we wait. We really don't have anything else to do right now, but wait. Wait until the day comes when our lives will never be the same again. It's quite surreal, strange and still a little hypothetical. He's coming, he's going to stay for a while, he's going to be awesome, and he's going to change everything.

 

Hurry up little buddy, I want to see you now.

We Shall Never Forget 12/16/1773

 

We had a lovely weekend, on our mini vacation.

 

I have never, ever been offered a free upgrade before; I guess arriving at a hotel with a heavily pregnant lady helps. We got there and checked in, and Alise went off to use the bathroom. While she was absent the gentleman at reception asked us where we were from and where we were going.

 

 'About 15 minutes away, and nowhere' was my response.

 

I told him that we were just staying at the hotel to relax and get away from doing housework for a night, while staying close to the hospital just in case the boy decided to check out.  

 

'Congratulations!' the young man said. 'Allow me to give you a complimentary upgrade to a room with a harbor view'

'How lovely!' I replied. 'I'll get to see where you dumped our tea!'

 

I actually didn't say that. I didn't even think to say that at any time during the weekend. Lost opportunities.

 

Anyway though! We took a walk on a cold beach, we swam in the small but empty pool, we dined happily and we watched the history channel on the tv. Like I always do in hotels. Fun! We really did escape, even if just for a few hours.

Price-Line-Negotiator!

Alise and I are going on a mini vacation this weekend.

 

I've been awfully tired recently, it's what happens to me in February. At this time of the year winter really starts to get on my nerves, and I sink into a bit of a lull. This is pretty common, apparently, many people feel this way at this time.

 

Alise, of course, hasn't been sleeping well and is starting to find simple movements quite difficult. Apparently this is my fault and the fault of 'my' son (as he is always referred to when he's making her uncomfortable). These two things, combined with our failures recently to properly 'relax' (when we're home we always say 'lets relax after we do this') made me spring into action yesterday, and find a mini solution.

 

Alise and I both enjoy staying in a hotel room. There's nothing quite like the comfort of a fresh bed, a big TV, a bathroom just steps away, and room service. There is actually a really nice hotel that's a 5 minute walk from our house, which I considered for this weekend. We both like to swim though, so I decided that I'd just do a Priceline.com search for something in Boston that had a good chance at a pool. I went with the 'name your own price' thing, so we wouldn't know in advance where we'd spend the night, but I selected 4* or higher in the area.

 

For anyone wondering why I chose to take Alise on a mini vacation in the city in which we live, instead of going further afield; I say this. She's 8 months pregnant, I'd like to stay close to her hospital. We don't really care where we are anyway, it's the room and relaxation that's important.

 

So, I settled down in front of Priceline.com to name my own price.

 

I've tried this before, but the feeling never changes. I actually picture William Shat-ner standing behind me, just like on the commercials. Coaching me, teasing me, insulting me.

 

'Median price for a 4* in Boston is $150', I said. 'I'll bid $100'

'Is that the best you can do?' Shat-ner scoffs.

'Okay, $80. $80 is fair, that'll get us something'

'Namby Pamby', he sneers

'FINE! FINE SHAT-NER! FUCK YOU! $60! THERE! $60 BASTARD BUCKS! STICK THAT IN YOUR STARSHIP-FUCKING-ENTERPRISE YOU TALENTLESS WANKER!'

 

To my shock, and the shock of William Shat-ner, it worked. I got us a room in a 4* hotel near to the airport. It has a pool, a fitness center, a beautiful restaurant, and room views of either the city skyline, the harbor, or the airport runway. I'm secretly hoping for a view of the airport runway. I love watching planes take off and land.

 

So hopefully, we'll have a nice relaxing weekend, free from the worries of 'things we should be doing'. I'll take photos, hopefully of planes. 

B.I.G.

I received an email from a reader of this blog yesterday.

 

She told me that her daughter was born 5 weeks ago, and was 10.5 lbs. TEN AND A HALF POUNDS!! That's a big babeh.

 

A friend here at work has a son who has just turned 2, and is 3 feet tall. THREE FEET!! That's a big toddler.

 

All of which is making me wonder if Alise and I severely underestimated the size of our child. We have bought a lot of clothes, ranging in sizes from 'newborn' to 18 months. We are fully aware that babies grow quickly, but now are worrying that he won't even get to wear some of these clothes. If our boy is over 10 pounds when he's born, he'll likely already be too big for the newborn stuff, how upsetting will that be?

 

Thankfully, we do know people who are having boys after us. Clothes will be passed along, possibly still with tags on. When he grows too big for his crib it will convert into a toddler bed and we'll get our money's worth out of that. The changing table will be storage for other things. We'll cope with his growth.

 

But still. Some babies are born big, some grow fast. What's the rush little ones? Do you have any idea how cute some of these clothes are? Don't you even care?

A message from beyond the womb...

 

Dear Alise and Jeremy,

 

As we have previously discussed, I will be arriving for my stay with you guys on Monday, March 15th. I trust that you have everything ready for my arrival, but wanted to remind you of the following.

 

* I will arrive naked. I will not bring any clothes with me. Please ensure that clothes are provided.

* I do not speak your language. I shall make attempts to learn, but this will take some time. Until that point, I shall communicate to you in shrieks and cries. Learn what each mean, it'll benefit us both.

* I will be hungry, often. I prefer homemade food, ifyaknowwhatImean.

* I do not care to fit into your schedules. I will wake when I want to, eat when I desire, and sleep when I am sleepy. Clocks, appointments, and your sanity mean nothing to me.

* Please clean me. And please change me. When you change me, clean me too. When you've just changed me, prepare to change me again. I cannot control what goes on down there and frankly have no desire to learn right now.

* I really like things that rattle. They bring out the ultra-cute animal in me.

* Please arrange for me to be monitored at all times. Even when asleep. Listen to me while I sleep, and watch me when I'm awake. At times, both listen and watch. Worry about me constantly, if you don't mind; and never leave me alone with Coco.

* I have no money. I shall pay you in smiles and possibly giggles. You cannot resell these.

* I shall not stay for long, only around 20 years or so. At this point you will help me to find somewhere else to live, and keep my room open for return visits.

* There better be monkeys in my room.

 

I'm sure that if the above is adhered to, we'll have a smashing time together.

 

With love,

 

Boy.

Video Diary!

The nursery is pretty much done!! To celebrate, a special video diary. Happy Sunday and Valentine's Day everyone!

Happy Long Weekend!

I don't have much to say today, apart from Happy Valentine's Day for Sunday, and happy long weekend for all of those that qualify. We are planning to finish the nursery and put everything together, and hopefully getting some much deserved rest. We're into the final stretch now and this will be the last long weekend before the boy gets here, and we are hoping that we'll make the most of it and have fun, sleep, and enjoy each others company.

'S No Snow

So yesterday I, along with the rest of the people in my building, and along with many workers in Massachusetts, were allowed to go home early so as to avoid getting snarled in the monster snowstorm that was rapidly approaching. Alise heeded the early warnings and worked from home, and we all gathered around computer monitors checking the forecasts. None of us really thought to look out of the window, because we live in the 21st century now and we're way more advanced than that. If we'd thought to look out of the window we'd have seen that it was actually raining; but technology beats reality, and we left at noon.

 

It ended up basically raining all day. Sometimes it snowed, but not significantly. It was a faux storm, and we were allowed home early for nothing.

 

At least this gave me a chance to start putting together the changing table. I've finished the first draft. It currently looks kind of like a drunken crib, and will bear the weight, comfortably, of a paper towel. Nothing more.

 

I'll finish it this weekend. We both have a long weekend, so we're planning on doing laundry, cleaning a bit, finishing up the nursery, and playing Playstation. We'll fit it all in, hopefully.

Snow Day!

Alise and I are both at home, having a snow day. Alise worked from home today, while my office closed at noon because of the impending storm.

Funny thing is, it's now 4pm and there really isn't any snow to speak of! It's currently snowing, but not settling. I'm therefore sitting on the couch, coffee in hand, watching Aston Villa v's Manchester United.

I did start to put together the Ikea changing table a couple of hours ago. I then swore quite a lot, threw down the Ikea key thingy that's supposed to help me, and promised that I'd go back to it and finish it shortly.

I might take a nap first though...

We're Keeping an Eye on You...

We had another ultrasound this morning.

 

Because Alise has Crohn's, and is therefore classified as 'high risk', we've been getting very regular ultrasounds and appointments with her various doctors. I swear that this child has been photographed more often than I have, but it is wonderful to keep knowing that he is developing well and is healthy. According to the OBG/YN, if Alise were to go into labor now they wouldn't even try to stop it with drugs, they'd just get her in for the birth. That's a pretty scary, but also comforting thought.

 

We ended up watching some of the Superbowl on Sunday, cheering fairly halfheartedly for the Saints. I'm really trying to learn this sport so that if our son develops an interest, I'll be able to at least converse with him without him calling me 'lame' to my face. That'll probably happen anyway. But still! I'm trying. While we watched it, we reckoned that with our height, our fairly sporting figures, and our genes; there could be a possibility that he might have the physique to one day play the sport; we built an image of him as Tom Brady, dashing, athletic, strong and draped in supermodels.

 

This morning, driving away from the ultrasound, reality tried to cross the road.

 

A young man, probably about ten years old, hovered on the sidewalk near to a pedestrian crossing. He hesitated a few times, dancing in the road, as he looked at us. I waved him across (since 1, I'm nice like that and 2, IT'S THE LAW). He was carrying what looked like a musical instrument in a black case, and he wore glasses. He looked a little uncomfortable, a little lost, and little like I often do.

 

'That's our future', Alise said. I had no choice but to agree.

Good Friends + Baby Shower = 'Stuff'

Friends are so cool. We are still both on a bit of a high after the weekend, we had a great time on Saturday at the shower, and then met up with Stacy, Ken and Kate for breakfast on Sunday. Alexandra joined us, before we dropped her off at the bus station so that she could get back to NYC.

 

Of course, with more 'stuff' we needed more places to store 'stuff'. We took advantage of it being Superbowl Sunday and went to Ikea last night, where we bought a changing table (with shelves to put 'stuff' on), and some containers and cute boxes to store the rest of the 'stuff'. We have a long weekend coming up, so we'll spend a day putting together Ikea furniture (I need at least a day and plenty of patience/coffee/naps to do this), and we'll put the final touches to the nursery. We are really getting close to D Day now, and while we are nervous as all hell; we're pretty much ready for this life-changing event. We have another ultrasound tomorrow morning, and we'll see where the boy is and what he's doing in there.

 

He's been very active recently. When he first started to visually move Alise's stomach with his kicks they were few and far between, and felt to me, an 'outsider', like gas, bubbles, or butterflies. Now if Alise 'spoons' me in bed with her belly to my back, our boy kicks me in the kidneys. That woke me up the other day. That was kind of trippy.

A long and Wonderful Day

We're home now, after having a lovely day.

It was the 'friends' baby shower today. We started by picking up our awesome friend Alexandra from the bus station, after she suffered the greyhound from NYC for 4 hours to be here with us today. We really appreciated that she came, and she's currently sitting with us on the couch (this in no way influences the things I'm saying about her, by the way).

We then went to the shower, hosted by another of our awesome friends, Stacy. Stacy has also been wonderful throughout this pregnancy, and hosted a great party.

We were joined by close friends and had a great time. I'm almost afraid to list people for fear of forgetting anyone; but thanks to Stacy, Ken, Kate, Jenny, Craig, Kathy, Ian, Hollie, Barbara, Ellie, Alexandra, Shawn, Laura and Kris. You're all brilliant and generous friends and we really appreciate your presence (and your presents, of course!) Stacy was a great host and kept everyone fed, watered and entertained, and she'll never know how much we truly appreciate her.

This is far too sappy for even the baby daddy to bear, but the warmth of friends is something that melts him sometimes. Thanks everyone, you're the best.

Doctor Doctor, Gimme The News...

We met with the doctor on Wednesday evening.

As I mentioned before, this was a meet and greet session to give us the opportunity to 'interview' the person who will be responsible for the health of our boy. It's a big decision, and we need to know that the person that we choose is someone that we like, that we feel is competent, and that we feel will always have the best interests of our child at heart.

We ended up spending about an hour chatting with the doctor. He was very interested to hear all about our boy and our lives, and seemed very knowledgeable. He knows all about Crohn's, and has certainly heard about the medications that Alise is taking.

One of the biggest questions that we have in relation to Crohn's is that of breastfeeding. There is little information out there about the chance of the medication transferring to the baby through milk, and it has left us both a little nervous. Alise would like to breastfeed and I support this decision 100%, but we both aware and wary of the risks that this may pose. The latest research that Alise has uncovered about this is that it is probably safe, and baby should just be monitored to ensure that no harm is coming to him.

This is where the doctor excelled, in my eyes. He told us that his priority is for the health of the child, but that he understands our desire to breastfeed. He told us that he would talk with colleagues and do more research himself, before coming back to us with his recommendation. He seem like the kind of doctor who would much rather tell us the right thing over the thing that'll make us happy, which is really one of the qualities that I prefer in my medical homies. This doctor can stay.

Mind = Blown

Did you know that John Tyler, the 10th President of the United States who served in office between 1841 and 1845 was a grandfather? Amazing right?

No? Well how about this. Two of his grandchildren are alive today. Serious! The President had a son when he was around 70, that son fathered a child, born in 1928 and still alive today, also when he was in his 70's. This is my 'blow your mind fact of the day' for today.

You see, that's the thing about being a bloke. You can throw your seed around whenever you want, and there will be a pretty good chance that a tree shall grow. It is remarkably common for men to be able to father after they reach the age of retirement.

Not so, of course, for women. Alise is in remarkably good shape for her age and looks years younger than she actually is, and has taken good care of her body. There will however come a point when she is past childbearing age, and the opportunity to give a sibling to our firstborn will pass. Perhaps this is why people are already asking if we are going to have another child?

To me, it's a crazy question. 'Are you going to have another?' people ask. 'Hold your fucking horses!' I reply, 'We haven't had one yet!'. It's a little like having a jet-pack on order, and being asked if we'll buy another one in a couple of years. How about we play with this jet-pack and see if we like it, yeah?

I suppose though, considering the age thing, it's a valid question. I just wish people would let us have this one and enjoy him for a while first, you know?

Shopping!!!

We're going shopping tonight.

We're shopping for a Pediatrician. We've shopped around online but now we are ready to meet one in the flesh. We took some recommendations from neighbors, and have high hopes that the one that we are meeting with is going to work for us.

We did consider a different place, and called them to make an appointment. As far as I'm concerned we are customers, so we deserve to be treated as such. When we called them we were told that 1) We would have to pay $20 to walk in the door, 2) we could only visit them at hours that didn't really work for us, and 3) We couldn't speak with a lactation specialist while we were there. I finished the call to that place with a 'ok, thank you very much yousnarkysnidebitch' and hung up. We tried to call again, and this time Alise spoke to the same woman. She tried to ask a few questions about the doctors and their specialties, but she was pretty rude and curt, so Alise ended her call in much the same way that I did.

I've always thought that the friendliness of a receptionist is key to my feelings about the company or organization as a whole. The receptionist is the first person that we will speak with when we are calling in a panic, the receptionist is someone who will either reassure us, or infuriate us. The receptionist that I spoke with at this particular place was a bitchy snarky fuckface, and we won't be speaking with her again.

We then called a local hospital, which is actually a 10 minute walk from our house. The receptionist here was lovely, friendly, and told us that we absolutely did not have to pay to come and speak with them. Alise asked her the same questions that she had asked the snarkysnidebitch, and she was very helpful. She even said to one question 'I'm not entirely sure myself, hang on, I'll find out and call you back in 10 minutes', and was true to her word. She was reassuring, and I know that if we speak with her in a panic she'll be experienced and caring enough to direct us properly.

So, we have high hopes for this place. The Doctor is a specialist in pediatrics and pediatric gastroenterology, which considering that we both have crohn's in our family is a selling point. We shall see...

Groundhog Day!

Punxsutawney Phil, the most famous of the groundhogs, has today 'declared' that there will be an early spring this year. I approve this message.

It has been a pretty bitter winter. We haven't (yet) had a ton of snow, but it has been very cold. We do try to keep the house fairly warm but we're aware that heat costs money and we're a pretty frugal couple. The other night/morning when I stayed up to watch the tennis it was very chilly downstairs, and I wrapped myself in a blanket. Our pet mouse on Saturday seemed to be having difficulty and her body temperature was very low, so Alise held her in her cleavage for a while to warm her bones.

There has, though, been a few signs that this winter may be breaking. It is now lighter in the evenings, it's not pitch black when I get off the train. There is little snow/ice left on the ground, and I came to work this morning without long-johns. Time continues to fly, seasons pass, baby will soon be coming.

For some reason though, I'm still obsessed with the temperature and I know that I will be year round when the baby arrives. When he gets here we won't just be able to sleep through the cold, we'll have to 'get up' to tend to him. The house will need to be warmer for longer. I want him to live in a world of comfort, warmth and love; not in a place of cold air, sharp corners, and winter illness. God, I'm nesting.

The bathroom is done and looks a million times better than it did. The nursery is basically finished, but needs to be cleaned and things need to be put up. Right now it looks good, but a little bare and sterile. I want it to be cozy, full of light, full of joy. I want things on the ceiling and things on the walls. I want rugs on the floor and toys in a yet-to-be-purchased chest. I want little books on the shelves and socks in little baskets. I want there to not be a modem in there. I want to windows that do not rattle when the wind blows. I want for him everything that I could never have. I want him to be happy, healthy, and be able to hear properly. I want to give him the sun and the moon and the stars. I want him to be safe, secure, and loved.

Sometimes I know want too much. Sometimes I know have to settle for less. This isn't one of those times.


EDIT: Wikipedia apparently gave me duff information this morning. The groundhog actually predicted 6 more weeks of winter. Stupid groundhog.

DON'T PANIC! EVERYONE CALM DOWN! OH GOD OH GOD!!

 

After the trials of Friday, with the early morning hospital visit, and coming at the end of what was a pretty eventful and tiring week, a massage was a welcome treat for Alise.

 

As part of her birthday I bought Alise a massage at the local 'Massage Envy'. She was already pregnant at the time, and enjoyed it so much that I signed up to buy her one pre-natal massage per month, for 6 months. She had her fifth on Friday, and we'll hopefully be able to squeeze one more in before baby comes.

 

I drive Alise to the massage place, mainly because when she comes out of the place she's sleepy and super relaxed; so driving home might not be the safest thing for her. Usually I drop her off there and then go over the road where there is a supermarket and CVS, and I waste an hour comparison shopping. I go into CVS and see how much the Gatorade (for example) is, then go next door to the supermarket to see how much it is in there. I then buy a load of crap, pile it in the car, and go wait the last 10 minutes for Alise to come out.

 

Last Friday I was still on high alert after our false alarm that morning. I figured that the people at Massage Envy would be very capable if Alise were to actually go into labor or something. Alise would call me on my cell phone, I'd be there within a minute.

 

And then I remembered that Alise had left her cell phone at home. I started to feel sick.

 

We rely so much on cell phones these days, but they really are terribly useful things. I doubt though that Alise knows my cell phone numbers, since to call me she dials 'contacts - jeremy - call'. Without having her phone, I'm uncontactable.

 

I mentioned this to Alise when I picked her up. 'You have to make sure you have your cell phone on your person from now on!' I told her.

 

We then went to Target on Saturday night, partly to get out of the house where paint fumes were present. Paint fumes are apparently not safe for a preggo, so we got some fresh air. I had a terrible headache, and Alise needed to pee (surprise surprise!) and look at maternity clothes, so we arranged that I'd go and get painkillers and water, she'd pee, and we'd rendezvous at the clothing section.

 

After buying and taking pills, I tried to find her. Nowhere to be found. I tried calling her on her cell, no answer. I swooped around the store, increasingly frantically, trying to find her. Calling her, not getting an answer, panicking. I eventually got to the fitting rooms where I asked the clerk 'young lady? big red coat? pregnant? here??'.

 

Of course, Alise was trying on clothes. Her cell phone still at home heard only by the cats and Coco. I wasn't happy, and I think it's accurate to say that I scolded her.

 

Which... is a little too much; probably. I am a little too worried these days, and I'm a little annoying. Alise did take it in good heart (as per usual, patience of a saint that woman), and promised that she would from that point forth carry her cell phone on her at all times; but I really should also learn to calm down; just a little. Otherwise the next time that we rush to the hospital it might not be for her, or for the baby.