Catching Up.

This was written when Oren was three days old, still in the NICU. My mother and I literally lived on the hospital grounds for the two weeks he was there, and spent most of our waking hours in the NICU with him, or in the NICU waiting area when visiting hours were over. It's hard to believe all this was nearly a year ago. And here he is, fussing insistently at my side, whacking me in the knee with his apple toy to express his displeasure with my laptop use.

You've come a long way, Mr. Baby!

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Oren Ellis was born at 13:09 on the 22nd of February. 7lbs, 2oz. 19.5 inches long. He has a head full of hair - lots of hair, actually, it looks like it is almost an inch long! He has a faint, cute little birthmark on his forehead that the doctor called a 'stork bite'. My sisters and I all had the same thing when we were born. It wasn't a really difficult labor, I think we got to the hospital at about 5:30am or so, and he was in the world about eight hours later - after only five minutes of pushing, and pretty minimal tearing! Contractions were unpleasant, but I am pleased to report that I totally manned up and didn't make a peep.

It was a totally silent birth - Tom Cruise and Scientology at large would've been proud. Though if I were going to make a peep, I probably would've peeped during the epudiral, as apparently I have an armor plated spine and it took about seven or eight good stabs before the needle could get where it was supposed to go.

Oren's first act, after impressing us with his loudness (and his silly pointy head), was to contentedly blow spit bubbles. He was one of three babies that decided to show up at just about the same time, but the only one who got to stay with its mother instead of being whisked off to the nursery area straight away. So we hung out together for about an hour, and he was cooed over by friends and family, and he adorably expressed his displeasure whenever we snickered at his pointy head and birthmark. I think that the easy delivery and hour of cuddle time gave me the false impression that he was totally going to be an worry free baby.

So it was surprising to be told that, after he'd been taken off to the nursery and gone a few hours, something wasn't right. Apparently he would just stop breathing every now and then. The nursery workers saw his color was going a little grey, and rushed over to check him. After being poked and rubbed a bit, he started breathing normally again, and got his pink coloring back. But in the hours that followed, he continued to have these lapses in breath. (spells are what the docs and nurses have been calling them)

They decided to do a brain scan, and saw an area on the left side that looked as if he had had a stroke a few days before being born. He was transferred to the N.I.C.U in Shreveport's Schumpert hospital a little after noon on the 23rd, and I got discharged from the hospital so I could follow along. Since then, they've found out a few things, but nothing that really explains the hows or whys, or the 'how do we fix it?' questions.

We've found out that his blood is clotting, but we aren't sure why, but that it is likely what caused the stroke he had in the womb -- which is why his breathing has been off -- and the bleeding he's had in his stomach. It clots so fast that it's useless for lab tests by the time they get to it, so his tests are being pretty rushed now. He's had almost every scan possible, and they're doing another one right now. There's a hematologist testing his blood, a neurologist assessing his brain function, and.. well, basically a whole team of -ologists tending to his case.

It's kind of hard to sum everything up and not get weepy about it. I know everybody really cares and wants to know what's going on, so I am trying to be descriptive, but it's tough. It really sucks to see the little guy all wired and tubed and not be allowed to hold him, or feed him. He's three days old now, and I really thought I'd be propped up on the couch at home, trying to wrestle him away from his grandma. Not really sure when the little guy will be allowed to come home, at this point. First they have to nail down a real diagnosis, and then get a treatment plan lined up, and then we can go from there.

It seems like he's gonna be here for the long haul, though. So I may not see many of you hometown folks for a while, because mom and I are trying to stay here with him as much as we can. I will have to come back eventually - doctor will want to see me at some point, and I can't just wear the same four pairs of pajama pants forever. Thanks to everybody for all of your prayers and well-wishes. I've got my laptop with me now, so I will try and put updates out when I find internet access.

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It really doesn't seem like all that happened 11 months ago. It was all sort of a dizzying blur of stress and serious worrying. Now, with him blowing spit bubbles and waving a froggie around as he sits next to me, it's hard to believe he and that tiny, fragile, sickly little newborn are the same little person. He's chubby, vocal, wiggly, and he has a great sense of humor. He isn't crawling yet, but we're making great progress in his physical therapy.

I don't know what the future holds for him, but I know that future is going to be monitored by specialists - and most importantly, his family. We don't know what the long-term effects of his stroke will be, if they'll be physical or mental - or both. But we do know that he is a wonderful, affectionate, silly little baby who couldn't be more loved.