Our little Pop Tart

Our little Andrew is 4 months old today! These four months has felt like forever. I don’t remember my life without him and having him in my life seems like the most natural thing in the world. He's still not sleeping through the night. He usually wakes up every 3 - 4 hours to feed. On rare occasions, I get a 6 hour stretch and those are awesome!

The poor little guy has been suffering a cold for the last three weeks with a lot of coughing and congestion. But despite the discomfort of not being able to breathe properly, he has been a real trooper and has such a great attitude! He loves to laugh and smile and is really starting to show his personality. Mommy has brought him to my office a few times and gets so much attention from my colleagues.

At his doctor visit today, he weighed 12 pounds and measured 24″ tall. The doctor is a little concerned about his weight and told us to increase the powder in the formula. She also said he could start eating solid food but thinks we should wait a few weeks until his viral infection is gone.

He spits up quite a bit after feedings. I'm not sure if it because he is eating too much or I'm not burping him enough during feedings, but hopefully he will outgrow it soon! The doctor thinks it might be because of the mucus.

We have another doctor’s appointment in a week to check on his cold and his weight. They didn’t give him the scheduled vaccines today so we’ll need to wait until he feels better.

Andrew has started grabbing anything he can get his hands on

His birthmother gave us several Packers clothes

We are at a less busy time of the year at work which is good because ever since Andrew was born I have been having trouble focusing at work. I go into the office and surf the internet looking at parenting sites, wander the halls looking for colleagues to chat with about my son and today I even went down to my car and took a nap to dream of him. Although the nap was more a product of sleeplessness due to waking up for nightly feedings and crying (I'll let you guess who is the one crying).

I wish I could be more productive but all I can think about is my little guy. I suppose it does not help that I have pictures of him all over my office and on my computer but I am not taking them down. I have been wondering if this lack of industry on my part is normal; I assume that it is. But I also wonder if it will eventually fade and the “new normal” will sink in and I will go back to my normal daily routine.

Speaking of the little guy, he was 3 months old on Valentine’s Day.  It seems like such a short period of time and yet it seems like a lifetime ago. It is remarkable to see how he is growing. The credit goes to his mother. I’ve managed to kill plants sturdier than he is. He is just the cutest person I have ever laid my eyes on. It has been entertaining and hypnotizing sitting there watching him as he looks around the room in wonder and amazement and makes new sounds. He has learned now to smile and generally about once a day we can get him to laugh out loud as well; it is more of a giggle than a laugh, but it still melts my heart.

Even when he cries it feels good to know that I am the one who needs to soothe him and make him feel better. Sometimes, it is a challenge trying to calm Andrew down, but there is great joy in knowing that I have the responsibility for him; he is crying for me.

On Sunday, my mother is having a party for him. In lieu of having a baby shower, we decided to have an open house with my mother hosting. We invited about 14 adults and 11 kids to come meet Andrew. Our closest friends have met him of course, but there are still many people who have not. It is supposed to snow on Sunday so I am not sure what the turnout will be like.

Dear Son - 

I think I should explain to you why I call you Pop Tart. In our family, pop tarts are very special, but don’t ever eat one because they are very high in sugar and have very little nutritional value. The story of the pop tart is the story of how I met your mother. 

In late August 1995, I was a member of the local chapter of the Jaycees. They were having a conference in Roanoke. I had just broken up with a girl the month before so I wasn’t looking to get into a relationship. The Jaycees were a fun group of people so I thought this would be a good way to spend the weekend. 

That Friday, I got in my car and drove the four hours to the conference which was being held in a large outdoor area with pavilions. Everyone at the conference was paired up with two other people in the hotel room but I was lucky because I was only sharing the room with one other guy who’s name was Dave. 

That night, there was a cookout to welcome everyone. I was wondering around the lawn when I met your Aunt Alex (Troy’s mom) for the first time. We chatted for about 15 minutes when two of Aunt Alex’s friends walked up and she introduced me to a woman named Kim and another woman who would later turn out to be your mother. The three of them were sharing a hotel room together and had driven down with my roommate Dave. 

I remember your mother was wearing a pink polo shirt and beige shorts and her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. She had the biggest, friendliest smile I had ever seen. Your mother and I spent the rest of that evening talking. The next morning, I found your mother and we ended up sitting together at all the meetings. That night, the Jaycees were having a dinner at a restaurant but your mom and her roommates didn’t have a car because they had gotten a ride with Dave. So, I drove Aunt Alex, Kim, and your mom to the dinner. Your mother and I sat together at dinner and couldn’t stop talking to each other. We had a lot in common and enough things different that it made getting to know her very interesting. I knew from the moment I met your mother that I liked her, but I didn’t know how she felt about me. Later that night, the four of us were driving back from the long evening, and I mentioned that I was hungry and wanted to stop to grab something to eat. 

Your mother looked at me and said, “Oh, if you don’t want to stop, I have a pop tart back at the hotel.” 

I didn’t stop. The four of us went back to the hotel room where your mother and I shared her last pop tart. When she gave me that pop tart, I knew she liked me too because let’s face it son, you don’t give your last pop tart to just anybody. The next day it was time to pack up and go home so your mother gave me her phone number. 

A couple of days later I called her for a first date and she ended up standing me up. But that’s a story for another time. 

I love you Pop Tart!

After several years of mild winters, this year’s cold season seems less bearable. It harkens me back to my college days when I would have to take a train and two busses just to get to school in the frigid and windy weather. To add insult to injury, I would need to march from building to building across the campus to get to my classes all the while avoiding icy patches and contracting wind burns on my face. Because of this, I have not had any adoration for the winter season. 

However, over the last several years of “global warming” (if you are a liberal) or “climate change” (if you are a conservative) I was beginning to rethink my stance on the first quarter of the year. Oh how wrong I was! Old man winter has been awakened from his hibernation and come out of his den with the vengeance of a hungry black bear. I am fortunate that now I have a car to protect me from the elements and I have a garage at the office. Also, I have the luxury to work in an office and no need to go outside if I chose not to. 

Temperatures for most of January have been in the 20s, which I realize is not cold if you live in the north, but to us folk below the Mason-Dixon Line, it is unbearable. I was overjoyed today to have the mercury reach 58 degrees and the sun shine bright. Even though Punxsutawney Phil sees another six weeks of winter. Tomorrow of course, we are forecasted to have another snow storm so we took this window of opportunity to experience “outside”. We decided to take Andrew for a walk to a park in our neighborhood.

Even in the grey of winter we still have some greenery

This trail winds its way across the entire county and connects all the parks.

A walk in the park

The creek is frozen

I always love coming to this bridge - even in the winter

  

Later that day - Watching the Super Bowl and cringing!

Having a baby through adoption is different than having a biological baby. For one thing, you don’t have a baby growing inside your wife for nine months so you don’t get attached to the baby as it develops in the womb. How will you instantly love this little person right after birth when you have never even experienced so much as feeling a kick, hearing the heartbeat, watching your wife’s belly (and baby) grow or sensing the anxiety about what you will do when your wife’s water breaks.

It is also different because the baby is genetically different than you and will not have your nose or her eyes or anyone’s hair. To make matters worse, you have no insight or control over his inherited medical issues. People will be able to see that this is not your baby. He is not made up from parts of you and therefore you have no biological or natural claim to it. 

Although I knew that whatever baby came into our life, that was the baby we were meant to have and raise, I still had these fears and thoughts about adoption. I thought when a baby was born, that I would have a detached sense of responsibility towards him that would over time grow into love. I also wondered if I would ever feel like he was truly my son since I had not created him and he was not biologically part of me. 

When I met the birth parents five weeks before Andrew was born, I was surprised at the similar personalities, educational backgrounds, career paths and ethnic heritage. This proved to solidify my belief that Andrew truly was the baby that we were meant to raise. The ethnic similarities gave me confidence that he would have similar features to my wife and me and allayed my concerns that he would not be biologically or genetically ours. The parallel personalities, educational backgrounds and career paths were eerily alike and made me think that I might have it all wrong. In essence, it was as if God was saying to make you believe that I have selected this child for you, I will show you traits of yourself in the birth parents. 

Andrew at 1 Day Old

We were in the waiting room during the delivery. Once Andrew was born, the nurse brought us back to meet him. As I saw him through the glass of the window of the nursery, my heart dissolved. That was MY son I was looking at. Immediately, our futures flashed before my eyes and I saw pictures of him crawling, talking, cheerios and goldfish, pumpkin carvings, playing catch in the back yard, going camping, his first date, his first car (panic attack), graduation, Halloween costumes, Christmas, and him growing up to be an old man. I didn’t have to wait for the love to grow over time; I was already in love. 

We were fortunate in that, we were given our own private room at the hospital. Andrew stayed with us in our room and the doctors and nurses came to talk to us about whatever needed to be discussed or decisions needed to be made. It made us feel as if we were the ones who had given birth. 

Andrew at 10 Weeks Old

Now, 11 weeks later, I love him with all my heart and there is no question in my mind that he is MY son just as if I had created him.

So I haven’t had a whole lot to post about until this week when we went to Andrew’s 8 week well baby visit. Good Lord! I can’t believe Andrew is two months old…and while I’d like to say that it’s gone by really fast, it feels like he’s been here for a long time, which of course I mean that in the best way possible. All in all though, he is a great baby. For being two months old, he gets up about once in the night, twice tops. He doesn’t cry that much except for when he has gas. He’s beginning to lift his head up and get some neck control. He smiles randomly and he adores his mother.

Happy 2 Month Birthday!

At his 8 week checkup he weighed in at a whopping 10 pounds 4 ounces. We are all happy at how he is growing. We have been concerned about H1N1 – for which he is too little be vaccinated against; even scarier still is that a baby just died from H1N1 here at the local hospital. Oh yeah, and the vaccinations – two shots for our little guy that had him in tears for a few seconds, but to my surprise he recovered quite well.

But yes, my little boy is 8 weeks old and SOOOOOO big. God I love him :-)  Happy Two Months Bunny!!

I often find myself staring at Andrew in amazement because I could not imagine a more beautifully adorable and perfect baby. I wonder how someone who is so imperfect could have something so perfect. At this age, his greatest talent is looking cute.

Happy 1 month birthday to our little one!

The only variable left in this whole adventure of bringing Andrew home were the dogs. They were at the kennel while we were in Dallas. The day after we got back I went and brought them home.  I was concerned how they would react to a new baby They came home and sniffed Andrew who was on the floor. After that, they wandered off and went about doing what they always do. So far, the baby has been a non-event for them. They do not get upset when he cries and he doesn’t get upset when they bark. It is as if the dogs couldn’t care less that there was another person in the house. That may all change once he starts walking, but it is good for now.

How could you not love 
that adorable face?

At home, things are going well, but I’m still in shock trying to take it all in. I don’t think reality has hit yet because I’m still in the honeymoon phase. On the one hand, it feels completely natural and on the other hand I feel like I’m living on Mars. How could you not love that adorable face? My heart skips a beat every time I look at him. I often find myself checking his breathing as he sleeps.

I’m back at work and Jenny is off until the end of February. We are tired and stressed but otherwise overjoyed. She has cried happy tears a few times in the last week. She says he is perfect and I have to agree.

After weighing all the options we decided that flying first class would be the best. We got up pretty early Tuesday morning to catch our 11:45 am flight because we suspected that the lines would be crazy and that with a baby it would take us longer to get ourselves out the door. I had the rental car packed by 8:45 and we were on our way to the airport by 9:00 am. I dropped the family off with the luggage at check-in while I drove to the car rental center and got rid of the car.

Because we had first class tickets, there was no line to check-in. We also saved about $200 in baggage fees because all the bags are free in first class. Navigating through security was not too much of a problem either. I had a baby in my arms so we were directed to go through a much shorter line. Once through security, we went to the American Airlines Club lounge to wait for our flight.

At the American Airlines Club

This was much more civilized than waiting at the gate. We all had our diapers changed and got something to eat; Andrew had formula while we shared a croissant and juice. The executive lounge is a quiet and relaxing place compared to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the airport, so when Andrew started crying I started to panic. Nobody seemed to mind though and a few people even commented as to how adorable he was. When people asked how old he was I felt like I had to explain why I was traveling with a 10 day old. It was as if I had to say, “No, I’m not insane traveling with a newborn! I’m taking my adopted baby home.”

We walked over to the gate a few minutes before boarding. A friend was going to pick us up at the airport and he was texting me with how bad the weather was. We boarded with ease and sat in our very roomy and comfortable seats for the three hour flight home. The captain said that it might be a bumpy flight because of the storm and we had to wait to take off. I was anticipating a delay but it didn’t bother me because I knew that we would all be comfortable and well taken care of.

Comforts of First Class

There ended up being no delay and we took off without a hitch. The flight attendants and passengers in first class were all cooing at our little boy. The fact that he is so adorably cute insured that no one gave us any odd looks. He didn’t cry once and slept most of the flight. We were served hot meals and all the beverages we wanted. We were so worked up about traveling and so far it had been easy and so for that we were very grateful.

To get the better airfare, we landed at the airport 50 minutes from our house (the closest one is 20 minutes away). Neil came and picked us up but because of the “storm” (rain) it took us two hours to get home. I cannot tell you the euphoria I felt that night as I lay in my own bed finally and thankful for my son, a comfortable home, and good friends.

We spent exactly two weeks in Dallas although at the time it seemed like an eternity. Legally speaking, we could not leave the Republic of Texas; practically speaking, we were confined to our two room suite for a fortnight. The building was old and the furniture was worn and depressing, and the television, with its limited selection of channels didn’t do much to help with the confinement. The worst thing was that the hotel’s internet connection was worthless. The weather was getting cold and Andrew was just a week old so we did not want to take him out unless we had to. I used my points and got the entire stay for free so I was not in a position to complain or change hotels. Plus, the staff at the hotel was very pleasant and made us feel welcome.

It was an unusual feeling spending four days in the hospital with people who until a few weeks ago you didn’t know. It’s also hard to describe the emotions of bonding with someone you don’t know very well over something as intimate as a child. During our time with them in the hospital, we got to better understand their relationship and their reasons for placing Andrew for adoption. This gave me confidence that they would go through with the adoption when the time came. They both also kept saying to us that we were the only people they would want raising Andrew, which made us feel like they saw in us what we see in ourselves as parents.

It was a good thing we were in Dallas because we had to print documents, have them notarized and mail them off to the attorney. I tried doing this at the hotel but I was unsuccessful because of the internet issues. We decided to go my Dallas office where I could have the office manager help me. She was great and took care of everything. All I had to do was sign on the dotted line. My staff in Dallas got to meet Andrew and promptly started to rub it in to my staff back home. Needless to say, my staff back home is now jealous and really wants to meet him. I also went into the office another couple of days just to do work. The rest of the time I worked from the hotel room.

We spent the rest of the time making trips to doctors and getting supplies at Target which was conveniently located across the highway. I was eager to start my new life and new routine back in my comfortable and familiar house.