I'm such a raging sentimentalist.
Michael Jackson died yesterday, and I am still in complete shock. It's not like I'm this crazy Michael Jackson fan either. I mean, I loved his music back in the day (who didn't?!), but it had been a long time since I really even gave him a second thought beyond whatever popped into my mind in line at the grocery store whenever I read the National Enquirer's latest freaky headline concerning the King of Pop.
But now that he's gone, I'm nostalgic. "Thriller" was my second cassette tape when I was a little girl (Billy Joel's "An Innocent Man"--complete with "Uptown Girl" and "For the Longest Time"--was the first), and I would drag my tape player all over the house and play "Beat It" and"Billie Jean" until the tape ribbon physically unraveled. As a child who loved art and crafts, I had a shirt that was designated my "painting" shirt. It one of those ugly black concert tee-shirts that someone got me when they went to see MJ live, and I absolutely loooved it. I would point to his white glove and dance, and even though it was more like a smock than a shirt on my three-year-old body, I insisted that I wear it whenever I was painting.
I watched the "Billie Jean" video--the one where MJ performs live for the Motown 25th Anniversary--about five times yesterday, and I don't think it will ever be anything less than amazing. Have you EVER seen anyone dance like that?! It's incredible. I remember watching it on TV with my parents when I was a little kid and both of them being blown away. I remember seeing women scream and cry in the audience and, being about four, not understanding that. I remember asking my mom why those ladies at the Michael Jackson show were so sad and my mother doing her best to explain to me that sometimes people cry when they get too excited and overwhelmed. How funny.
He became so weird and freakish in his later years that it's easy to see why most of us forgot how unbelievably "cool" he was in his prime. I'm beginning to understand how my parents must have felt when Elvis died and/or John Lennon was shot. (Incidentally, Elvis died the year Jeff was born, and John Lennon was shot a year before my birth in 1981.) I can't help but think of Harper and how strange it is that she will never quite grasp the magnitude of Michael Jackson's stardom. She will never really get how cool "Thriller" was when it debuted (and actually, considering technology's advances, "Thriller" will probably seem pretty lame to her when she's old enough to see it!) or how unbelievably powerful you'd have to be to orchestrate "We Are the World." She will never fully understand how absolutely HUGE Michael Jackson was at the height of his career, how far he fell, and how freakish he became. And to me, that is so odd--that my child will never quite comprehend this person in history that my husband & I will instantly recognize and remember and at whom we will marvel for the rest of our lives whenever we hear one of his songs.
I think Michael Jackson is the first MAJOR icon my generation has lost, and although it's been such a long time since we were all captivated by that young, skinny black kid from Gary, Indiana, I hope I always remember him as the amazing performer that he was--the one with the shimmery black jacket, black top hat, and white glove, who could slide his feet backward as though walking on the moon.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
A Rough Couple of Weeks
I haven't updated this blog in forever. Ugh! I hate getting behind on things, but such is inevitable when you're a new mom. I'm still trying to adjust to the fact that getting "extra" things done--pretty much anything aside from basic necessary tasks, of which updating your blog isn't--is just not in the cards. At least not right now.
We've been dealing with a lot over the past few weeks, which is one of my reasons for not writing, aside from the typical new mom stuff (e.g., no sleep, fussy baby, etc.).
On the upside, Harper had her two-month well visit with her pediatrician on June 1st, and she weighed 8 lbs. flat and measured 20 ½ in. at the time of her visit. That's a pound and a half since her May 12th homecoming, which is awesome!
However, June 1st was a tough day…for both of us. The two-month well visit means two-month vaccinations, and I can't even begin to describe how incredibly difficult it was to have to watch my child scream in pain as shot upon shot was administered into her chubby little thighs. I literally alternated between wanting to punch my pediatrician in the face (even though I really like the guy!) and wanting to jump in between him and Harper as if to say, "Noooo! Stop poking her! Poke ME with the needles, not her! I'll take all of the shots for her!"
I heard Harper's "help me, I'm in pain" cry for the first time that day, and it was undoubtedly the most horrible sound I think I've ever heard. It's such a helpless feeling as a mother, to hear your child scream out in pain and know that you are powerless to stop it. I'm already dreading our four-month vaccinations.
So our pediatrician's appointment went well, but it was tough.
Tougher, still, was our appointment with the pediatric ophthalmologist two days later. To make a long story short, all preemies--particularly those born at 31 weeks and under or those with an extremely low birth weight (e.g., 3.5 lbs. and below)--are at risk for Retinopathy of Prematurity (ROP), a condition in which the blood vessels in the retinas stop growing or begin to grow abnormally. Most of the time, the problem simply resolves itself on its own without any medical intervention; if the retina becomes detached, as in the worst cases, blindness can occur. Because Harper doesn't fall into either of the above categories in terms of her prematurity, I expected her to receive a clean bill of health where her eyes are concerned…
But, as I found out at our appointment on June 3rd, from a doctor with absolutely no beside manner whatsoever--every first-time mom's dream--Harper does, in fact, have ROP. Of course when I found this out, I was an absolute basketcase. I'd gotten so used to hearing that everything was fine with Harper's health that I was totally unprepared for anything less than "everything looks great, Mrs. Henderson." The icing on the cake was the doctor. What a royal jerk. He didn't really explain anything about ROP and what it is, how bad Harper's case actually is, or our chances for a best-case scenario outcome vs. a worst-case scenario outcome. He just condescendingly explained the disease by using a bunch of weak metaphors and proceeded to cover his you-know-what by giving me a run-down of the most unlikely result (although I didn't know that at the time).
Luckily, Jeff & I sought a second opinion, not necessarily because we believed we would receive a different diagnosis but because I felt so strongly about seeing a different doctor.
So, early last week, we saw a much warmer and friendlier ophthalmologist who is not a pediatric doctor but a doctor specializing in retinology. The prognosis is not nearly as bleak as Doctor #1 originally made it seem, but Jeff & I already expected that after reading up on ROP after Harper's original appointment.
Basically, because of her prematurity, Harper's retinal blood vessels have not fully developed. ROP is graded in terms of "stages," with stage one being the least severe and stage five being the most. Harper has stage one ROP in her right eye (which means her right eye has a 90-95% chance of resolution without medical intervention) and stage two ROP in her left (meaning a 70-80% chance that everything will work itself out without treatment in her left eye). The concern is her left eye; if it progresses to stage three ROP, then she will have to have laser surgery to correct the problem. Apparently laser surgery fixes stage three ROP almost 100% of the time, so that's comforting.
For now, the doctor is simply monitoring her condition to make sure it doesn't worsen. We'll return to the ophthalmologist every two weeks so Harper's retinas can be evaluated. Our next appointment is this Thursday. Of course, I'm worrying about it, but I've been praying about it a lot. "Give it to God," my mom says. I'm trying.
In other news, Harper is making tremendous progress toward her developmental milestones. Naturally, preemies are always a tad "behind" other children of the same actual age; because of this, parents of preemies are told to measure their child's development based on his/her "adjusted" or "corrected" age (the amount of time that has elapsed since the child's original due date). So, while Harper's actual age is just over 11 weeks, her adjusted age is just 3 ½ weeks. And for a 3 ½-week-old baby, she's doing incredibly well!
It seems like she's made a lot of accomplishments over the past week. She's experimenting with sounds a lot--making pterodactyl-like screeches and high-pitched squeaks fairly often--and she just started cooing over the weekend. She's also developed distinctly different cries for different wants/needs (unlike the first few weeks, during which all of the crying sounds exactly the same!). She still can't hold her head up unsupported for long periods of time, but she can lift it when she's on her tummy and can hold it upright temporarily. What else? She's now focusing on specific objects, like the stars and lambs on her lamb swing mobile or our faces when we're holding her, and though she has yet to figure out how to use her legs to "scoot" during tummy time, she can already roll herself over onto her back unassisted.
Unfortunately for Mommy (and Daddy, too, as I'm sure her crying interrupts his sweet dreams even if he doesn't acknowledge it), Harper is still not sleeping through the night. Not even close. She's generally up and ready to eat every three-and-a-half hours, give or take an hour in either direction. My two saving graces are: (1) she's usually a very good eater and sucks down her 3- to 3 ½-oz. bottle of formula in less than 30 minutes; and (2) Jeff feeds her before he goes to work, thereby allowing me to get at least three hours of uninterrupted sleep, which is huge. She's still sleeping beside us in our bedroom for the time being, and I imagine we'll probably keep her there until she either outgrows her bassinet or starts sleeping through the night. My goal is to have her sleeping upstairs in her own crib in her own nursery by August, but we shall see.
As far as her personality goes, well… I don't know how Jeff was as a baby, but according to my mother (and a crapload of pictures in my baby photo albums!), I was a very serious, studious baby--the antithesis of my little brother, who was ALWAYS smiling and laughing. Hilariously, Harper definitely takes after me in this way. She will give an occasional smile, sure, but generally she is a very inquisitive, "thinker" baby: her lips pursed, her brow knitted, her eyes open wide, a constant contemplative expression upon her face. I wonder if this will ring true for her personality in later years. It certainly did for my brother & me.
What else?
She LOVES her lamb swing, her pacifier, her Fisher Price crib aquarium, stretching her arms and legs, having her hands up by her face, taking baths, looking out the window, being held and talked to, and being rocked. She DETESTS all formulas except for Similac Neosure, having her arms tucked in when I swaddle her, wearing outfits with mitts (she ALWAYS finds a way to weasel her fingers out!), silence, being changed, and, aside from bath time, being naked (Daddy says this is a good thing and that it should stay that way until she's 30!).
The funniest thing is that she absolutely LOVES--and I mean LOVES--music. She insists that we turn on the music whenever she's in her lamb swing or bouncer, and she fusses unless her Fisher Price crib aquarium is playing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" whenever she's bedding down in her bassinet. The moment the music stops--even if she's dead asleep at the time--she starts fussing. It's hilarious. Jeff & I are wondering if we have a future American Idol or perhaps a potential band geek on our hands! Either way, we'll be the proudest parents alive!
OK, I think that's enough to get everyone caught up for now. I can't guarantee that I'll update every week, but I promise I will try to do a better job of staying on top of this blog in the weeks to come. In the meantime, a few recent pictures of the Harpster are posted below. (Isn't she beautiful? The other day some lady at Alamo Café said she was so beautiful that we ought to send her picture in to the Gerber Company and have them put HER on the side of baby food jars! What a compliment!)
We've been dealing with a lot over the past few weeks, which is one of my reasons for not writing, aside from the typical new mom stuff (e.g., no sleep, fussy baby, etc.).
On the upside, Harper had her two-month well visit with her pediatrician on June 1st, and she weighed 8 lbs. flat and measured 20 ½ in. at the time of her visit. That's a pound and a half since her May 12th homecoming, which is awesome!
However, June 1st was a tough day…for both of us. The two-month well visit means two-month vaccinations, and I can't even begin to describe how incredibly difficult it was to have to watch my child scream in pain as shot upon shot was administered into her chubby little thighs. I literally alternated between wanting to punch my pediatrician in the face (even though I really like the guy!) and wanting to jump in between him and Harper as if to say, "Noooo! Stop poking her! Poke ME with the needles, not her! I'll take all of the shots for her!"
I heard Harper's "help me, I'm in pain" cry for the first time that day, and it was undoubtedly the most horrible sound I think I've ever heard. It's such a helpless feeling as a mother, to hear your child scream out in pain and know that you are powerless to stop it. I'm already dreading our four-month vaccinations.
So our pediatrician's appointment went well, but it was tough.
Tougher, still, was our appointment with the pediatric ophthalmologist two days later. To make a long story short, all preemies--particularly those born at 31 weeks and under or those with an extremely low birth weight (e.g., 3.5 lbs. and below)--are at risk for Retinopathy of Prematurity (ROP), a condition in which the blood vessels in the retinas stop growing or begin to grow abnormally. Most of the time, the problem simply resolves itself on its own without any medical intervention; if the retina becomes detached, as in the worst cases, blindness can occur. Because Harper doesn't fall into either of the above categories in terms of her prematurity, I expected her to receive a clean bill of health where her eyes are concerned…
But, as I found out at our appointment on June 3rd, from a doctor with absolutely no beside manner whatsoever--every first-time mom's dream--Harper does, in fact, have ROP. Of course when I found this out, I was an absolute basketcase. I'd gotten so used to hearing that everything was fine with Harper's health that I was totally unprepared for anything less than "everything looks great, Mrs. Henderson." The icing on the cake was the doctor. What a royal jerk. He didn't really explain anything about ROP and what it is, how bad Harper's case actually is, or our chances for a best-case scenario outcome vs. a worst-case scenario outcome. He just condescendingly explained the disease by using a bunch of weak metaphors and proceeded to cover his you-know-what by giving me a run-down of the most unlikely result (although I didn't know that at the time).
Luckily, Jeff & I sought a second opinion, not necessarily because we believed we would receive a different diagnosis but because I felt so strongly about seeing a different doctor.
So, early last week, we saw a much warmer and friendlier ophthalmologist who is not a pediatric doctor but a doctor specializing in retinology. The prognosis is not nearly as bleak as Doctor #1 originally made it seem, but Jeff & I already expected that after reading up on ROP after Harper's original appointment.
Basically, because of her prematurity, Harper's retinal blood vessels have not fully developed. ROP is graded in terms of "stages," with stage one being the least severe and stage five being the most. Harper has stage one ROP in her right eye (which means her right eye has a 90-95% chance of resolution without medical intervention) and stage two ROP in her left (meaning a 70-80% chance that everything will work itself out without treatment in her left eye). The concern is her left eye; if it progresses to stage three ROP, then she will have to have laser surgery to correct the problem. Apparently laser surgery fixes stage three ROP almost 100% of the time, so that's comforting.
For now, the doctor is simply monitoring her condition to make sure it doesn't worsen. We'll return to the ophthalmologist every two weeks so Harper's retinas can be evaluated. Our next appointment is this Thursday. Of course, I'm worrying about it, but I've been praying about it a lot. "Give it to God," my mom says. I'm trying.
In other news, Harper is making tremendous progress toward her developmental milestones. Naturally, preemies are always a tad "behind" other children of the same actual age; because of this, parents of preemies are told to measure their child's development based on his/her "adjusted" or "corrected" age (the amount of time that has elapsed since the child's original due date). So, while Harper's actual age is just over 11 weeks, her adjusted age is just 3 ½ weeks. And for a 3 ½-week-old baby, she's doing incredibly well!
It seems like she's made a lot of accomplishments over the past week. She's experimenting with sounds a lot--making pterodactyl-like screeches and high-pitched squeaks fairly often--and she just started cooing over the weekend. She's also developed distinctly different cries for different wants/needs (unlike the first few weeks, during which all of the crying sounds exactly the same!). She still can't hold her head up unsupported for long periods of time, but she can lift it when she's on her tummy and can hold it upright temporarily. What else? She's now focusing on specific objects, like the stars and lambs on her lamb swing mobile or our faces when we're holding her, and though she has yet to figure out how to use her legs to "scoot" during tummy time, she can already roll herself over onto her back unassisted.
Unfortunately for Mommy (and Daddy, too, as I'm sure her crying interrupts his sweet dreams even if he doesn't acknowledge it), Harper is still not sleeping through the night. Not even close. She's generally up and ready to eat every three-and-a-half hours, give or take an hour in either direction. My two saving graces are: (1) she's usually a very good eater and sucks down her 3- to 3 ½-oz. bottle of formula in less than 30 minutes; and (2) Jeff feeds her before he goes to work, thereby allowing me to get at least three hours of uninterrupted sleep, which is huge. She's still sleeping beside us in our bedroom for the time being, and I imagine we'll probably keep her there until she either outgrows her bassinet or starts sleeping through the night. My goal is to have her sleeping upstairs in her own crib in her own nursery by August, but we shall see.
As far as her personality goes, well… I don't know how Jeff was as a baby, but according to my mother (and a crapload of pictures in my baby photo albums!), I was a very serious, studious baby--the antithesis of my little brother, who was ALWAYS smiling and laughing. Hilariously, Harper definitely takes after me in this way. She will give an occasional smile, sure, but generally she is a very inquisitive, "thinker" baby: her lips pursed, her brow knitted, her eyes open wide, a constant contemplative expression upon her face. I wonder if this will ring true for her personality in later years. It certainly did for my brother & me.
What else?
She LOVES her lamb swing, her pacifier, her Fisher Price crib aquarium, stretching her arms and legs, having her hands up by her face, taking baths, looking out the window, being held and talked to, and being rocked. She DETESTS all formulas except for Similac Neosure, having her arms tucked in when I swaddle her, wearing outfits with mitts (she ALWAYS finds a way to weasel her fingers out!), silence, being changed, and, aside from bath time, being naked (Daddy says this is a good thing and that it should stay that way until she's 30!).
The funniest thing is that she absolutely LOVES--and I mean LOVES--music. She insists that we turn on the music whenever she's in her lamb swing or bouncer, and she fusses unless her Fisher Price crib aquarium is playing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" whenever she's bedding down in her bassinet. The moment the music stops--even if she's dead asleep at the time--she starts fussing. It's hilarious. Jeff & I are wondering if we have a future American Idol or perhaps a potential band geek on our hands! Either way, we'll be the proudest parents alive!
OK, I think that's enough to get everyone caught up for now. I can't guarantee that I'll update every week, but I promise I will try to do a better job of staying on top of this blog in the weeks to come. In the meantime, a few recent pictures of the Harpster are posted below. (Isn't she beautiful? The other day some lady at Alamo Café said she was so beautiful that we ought to send her picture in to the Gerber Company and have them put HER on the side of baby food jars! What a compliment!)
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