Due Date

One year ago today was Henry's due date. I was a very large lady. Waiting for my very large baby. It seemed as if he would never arrive. Now we're planning his first birthday party!

Happy Henry

On Saturday, we went to a friend's first birthday party. Our momma friend took these wonderful shots of Henry. I couldn't help but download them from her site and post them here. Thanks, Erin!

Rollercoaster

This week has brought to mind the image of a rollercoaster on multiple occasions. Primarily because the treatment and management of Henry's cellulitis has felt like an emotional rollercoaster. He has seemed fine one minute, then he would spike another fever or show some other symptom and my concern would also spike. Up and down, up and down. Thus, three visits to the doctor's office in five business days. I'm very thankful that the doctor and everyone else in the the office was incredibly supportive. At no point did I feel like I was being regarded as paranoid, or overprotective, or any of the other negative labels commonly associated with first-time moms. Instead, the doctor with whom I have primarily dealt repeatedly stressed the fact that I should call if I had even the slightest concern. I valued her concern, but part of me also wonders if her heightened response to Henry's condition might have fueled my own worries. Then again, when you're talking about a condition that is accompanied by terms like "flesh eating virus," "gangrene," "meningitis," and "...can spread easily to the blood, lymph nodes, and brain," well, it seems like the worry is justified. Those terms came from the internet, by the way, not from the doctor. I should know better by now, but the internet, bastion of all you ever want to learn, can be such a seductive tool.

Anyhow...our rollercoaster ride led us all the way to the Pediatic ER this morning. Another fever, another call to the doctor, another waiting room. And here's where that fun rollercoaster analogy really took off. Because, if you think about it, the Peds ER is a lot like Disneyland. Without the fun. How could a sane person make such a statement? First of all, my sanity may be questionable after four (yes, four!) hours in the ER and three visits to the doctor earlier this week. But as I sat, waiting for one thing after another, constantly thinking this is it, finally! only to be further strung along, I thought about the lines at Disneyland. The lines where you wait and wait, and you think you're finally there! You finally made it to the end of the line and the beginning of the ride, only to find...oh, another room with a winding snake of a line. At least that's how I remember the lines at amusement parks like Disney. I had been on this ER ride before, so I remembered that the first time they call you from the waiting area, is not it. The first time you're called, you only have your vitals taken, and are then pushed back into the now even more crowded waiting area. The second call from the waiting area brings you to the real deal. Your own little cell in the ER. That's where the tantalizing thought that we were close to being seen by a doctor began to creep in. That's also where the crankies really began to creep in for Henry. Not unlike rollercoaster-bound kids in a fun park, no doubt. Long story (four hours long) short, Henry cried, Henry napped briefly, Henry played on the bed, Henry cried. We were eventually seen by two nurses, a resident, and another doctor before being told we were free to go...oh wait, just kidding! After seeing the final doctor we needed to wait for the paperwork to be done. This is when I really thought we were going to lose our minds. 30 minutes later, the paperwork was done.

The good news is, Henry's fine. The trip to the ER was mostly precautionary, since facial cellulitis is something to be watched carefully, especially with continued fever. The ER docs concurred that the infection is responding well to the antibiotics, the fever was likely related to an additional viral issue (yes! another illness! way to multitask, Henry!), and to just follow up as needed. I have high hopes that I will not see another doctor for Henry until his one year appointment. In just a few weeks!

Here's a pic of the big boy earlier this week.
And here he is being tricked into taking his revolting antibiotic. As per the doctor's suggestion, I mixed it with some frozen grape juice concentrate to mask the flavor. I then pretended to eat it, ignoring the noxious fumes that still issued from the antibiotic. Henry was not fooled for long, but look how happy he is to take his medicine here. You can also see how much better his face looked when this picture was taken on Thursday. It looks even better now, too.

The walking wounded

Just as Henry's transition to the world of crawling was paved with bumps and bruises, so to is his work-in-progress of learning to walk. Yesterday morning the little guy took a tumble and bit his lip on impact with the floor. It was our first bloody incident, and I'm proud to say that I was able to handle it without a major breakdown or fainting spell. I was mildly concerned about how I'd react the first time Henry wound up bleeding, since I have a strong aversion to blood and faint every time I give blood. Thankfully, Henry is healing nicely from this fall. In fact, the minor split to his lip complements the rug burn and small bruise that Henry acquired at Gymboree today. While exiting a slightly raised tunnel, Henry slipped a little and slid out headfirst the rest of the way. Both of these mobility-related accidents are in addition to a third blemish to dear Henry's handsome face. This poor child somehow also acquired a bacterial infection on his face. Last Friday it began as a small, circular mark that I initially questioned as a possible chicken pock (refer to previous post). I called the doctor to ask about the mark, and they reassured me that if it was chicken pox, he would have at least half a dozen more spots by the end of the day.

The end of the day came and went, with no more spots. I considered us lucky. No chicken pox. Fast forward a few days, and we were not feeling quite so lucky. The not-chicken-pox spot, was also not really of spot-like proportions any longer. The spot had grown. A lot. And it had taken on a swollen, tender-looking appearance. On Sunday, we into Henry's bedroom to wake him from his nap for his cousin's birthday party, and in an unusual turn of events, Henry remained asleep. We couldn't reisist taking a picture.
Since this picture was taken, Henry has made two trips to the doctor's office and begun a course of serious antibiotics. The swelling and redness have gone down significantly. This is a huge relief, especially because the doctor last night warned us that if the oral antibiotics didn't work, we'd be bound for the hospital and an IV drip. Today Henry's looking much better, as far as his infection is concerned. Now he just needs to work on healing his walking wounds. (photo below taken prior to incidents, accidents, and infections)

Countdown to 1 year old!

Henry is now a mere one month away from making it to the one-year mark! Holy cow! It's hard to know whether to call him a baby or a toddler. On another blog, I read the author's suggestion for the term "wobbler" as the interim stage between babyhood and toddler. That seems about right to me. Henry is now taking several steps at a time, but I'd hesitate to call him a toddler. Instead, I'd say we're in the thralls of wobblerhood. Wobblerhood is a wonderful time of development so far. Henry is not only learning to walk, but also really soaking up all of what we say and do around him. Some recent developments:

Brushing his teeth and hair. Often with the wrong tool. First, he picked up on using his hairbrush to make a brushing gesture against his head. It was a very sweet, if completely ineffective, attempt at grooming himself. Then, when I gave him his toothbrush the other day, he mimicked me and "brushed" his teeth. Again, pretty ineffective, but totally adorable. I can see why it would get confusing when he went downstairs and saw his hairbrush, another item he uses to "brush, brush." Brush your teeth vs. brush your hair is a fine distinction to this little wobbler. And maybe not that important a distinction, since his food often winds up in his hair anyway.

How does his food wind up in his hair, you may ask? Well, Henry is very interested in feeding himself. Most of his meals are self-fed meals, where he gets small chunks of whatever we're eating. On occasions when Henry's menu includes something requiring a spoon, oh boy are we in trouble. Henry hasn't quite gotten the idea that you can't necessarily grab whatever substance is on the spoon and put it directly into your mouth. Yogurt, for instance, works a lot better on the spoon than in the palm of your hand. Try telling that to Henry. And what gets on Henry's hands goes in Henry's hair. So, tooth brush, hair brush, whatever.

Other 11 month Henry facts...

• He lovvveeess dogs. Whether they're on TV, at a friend's house, or walking down the street, Henry greets them with a squeal of delight. I think he's already begun lobbying for a dog of his own.
• Henry also loves monkeys. Usually he only sees them on TV or in the form of stuffed animals. He saw them in a few murals at Trader Joe's this week and started squealing and laughing. It took me a while to figure out that he wasn't excited about pita chips, he was excited about painted monkeys. We can't wait to take Henry to the zoo this spring to see the monkeys in person.
• Henry loves TV. Okay, not really; but the previous two items would seem to indicate that I sit him in front of the TV all day. I do sometimes sit with him on my lap in front of the TV while he takes a bottle, but that's about it for watching. He'll sit still for approximately 10 minutes to watch Curious George, Sesame Street, or occasionally the Animal Planet channel. Otherwise, he's got better things to do.
• Monday through Friday, Henry lives for 5:45 pm. This is the time when Brian arrives home from work. Henry gets very excited when he hears either the car pull in the driveway or the door start to open. He looks at me, and either waits for me to say "daddy's home" or starts saying "da" himself while heading for the door. Then he gives Brian and big grin and hug around the legs. And he melts our hearts.
• The minute I walk into Henry's room in the morning, he starts pointing and saying "eh?" and doesn't stop until he goes to sleep at night. He wants to know the name of everything around him. It's getting much easier to figure out what Henry is pointing toward, as he's begun using his pointer finger more effectively. Up until this week, his "eh?" was accompanied by using his whole hand to gesture. Now he's managing to isolate his pointer finger when he wants to know the name of something.
  
• Henry's a dance machine. He especially likes motown. I especially like his squat and groove move.
  

There are, of course, a million other cute and fascinating facts about Henry that I could include here. If I had time to write them, that is. But I hear the little g-unit upstairs pouding on his crib. That is code for: Mooooommmmmm, I've been up here napping for two hours!! Now get up here and let's play!! I've got things to do and learn!!

A pox on your house

When is winter going to end? Winter, with all that it has wrought and brought this year, has been tough as a stay at home mom of a baby. There is the snow. There is the cold. There is the ice. There is the sickness. Oh, the sickness.

It seems as if Henry's tally of sick vs. healthy days this winter has been skewed to the former. And a recent threat of chicken pox is about to push me over the edge! He was apparently, accidentally exposed to the virus at our baby and toddler story time this week. An unknowing mother brought her pox ridden child to the story hour, and sat him in the circle of our small, closed room. I can practically see the highly contagious spores of varicella virus swirling in the air, making their way to my poor, soon-to-be vaccinated child. You see, the CDC, AAP, and AAFP now all advise vaccinating children against chicken pox for the first time between 12 and 15 months of age. Henry is now 11 months old (more about that later). The child in question at story hour is, I believe, either 14 or 15 months old, which makes me wonder about his vaccination status. Was he vaccinated, and somehow still contracted the disease? Or did his mother opt out, as do an increasing number of parents today?

Which brings me to my soapbox. Upon which I rarely stand. You probably didn't even know I had a soapbox. But I'm in the midst of a 10-20 day incubation period, during which I must wait to find out if Henry has chicken pox. And after the 10-20 day incubation period, I may just have to deal with the chicken pox themselves. Sure, it probably wouldn't be the end of the world if he did contract chicken pox. In most kids his age, it's typically pretty mild. But when there's a vaccine for this, I don't want to have to worry about it. I realize that most parents (especially all the wonderful, caring parents I know) make what they feel to be the best decision for their child. And it is every parent's right to make these decisions, including in regard to vaccinations. In fact, I myself did a fair amount of research and reading into the current hot topic of vaccines. I also considered an alternate vaccination schedule, and weighed out the pros and cons of specific vaccines. In the end, the research I did and the conversation I had with Henry's pediatrician led me to conclude that the current, AAP recommended vaccination schedule was the way to go. Whenh I made this decision, I also bore in mind the public health issues related to vaccination. Because really, it's not just a personal, family decision. It is a matter of public health and responsibility. Diseases that have been nearly erradicated by strict adherence to the vaccine schedules pop up again at alarming rates when often unsubstantiated fears cause parents to refuse physician recommended vaccines. For example, measles has been making a comeback in the UK as a result of lower vaccination rates. The drop-off in vaccination rates was related to an unsubtantiated link between the MMR vaccine and autism. So, I will just say this: do your research; make your best decision for your child; but remember that it's not just a decision about your child, but the health of society as a whole. 'Nuf said.