Four Eyes and Proud of It

Well... after much kicking and screaming, Corban drug me in to the doctor's office this week to pick up his new glasses. I told him I didn't want to have to deal with one more thing and that he already had enough equipment on his body, to which he replied, "Mom, get over it. I need these."

"Okay, okay...."

So we went and tried them on. Once he finished trying to rip them off his face, he began to look around. And then he started to smile. And then he started to laugh! He could see! Ha!

For the first time, he could see my face, he could see his hands... He could see everything up close that has been but a blur to him his whole life. Wow. I guess I didn't realize how bad it was, until I saw how much of a difference the glasses made. Such a difference!!

So, now that we have one extra thing added to our long list of Corban gear, I have but one regret--that we didn't get them sooner!

  Couldn't you just eat him up??!?

The second pair...

And here he is, rockin' them out on video.

Many Expeditions

Well, I haven't updated the blog in a while, because, to be honest, I haven't had any earth shattering news to share. But that is OKAY!!! Earth-shattering is bad. Hum drum is good.

But that's not quite accurate. Corban has been doing some pretty amazing things lately - EATING, the first and foremost! He has ventured though broccoli cheese soup waters to lasagna mountains to pot roast caverns to fields of luscious chicken noodle soup. In all his wanderings, his mother makes sure to carry a blender with her, to aid in his many expeditions.

His occupational therapist has also been assisting in his endeavors, with all the latest travel gear. Blue lip tape? They say it's all the rage.

He's been awfully busy lately with his rigorous exercise routine and has little time to sign autographs. Though he apologizes for the inconvenience, he says he's willing to make a guest appearance for anyone genuinely interested, as long as his mommy gets to come along.

The protein shakes we've been feeding him (haha) have given him mounds of energy to spend on doing whatever his heart desires. Like hanging out in the excersaucer, for one.

And of course, he is not alone in his plot to take over the world. His big brother and sister help him in every way they can (which usually involves some kind of torture that will ultimately make him a stronger and more courageous individual).

Torture like you've never seen. Torture beyond human imagination. Torture to stop all manly men in their tracks from the sheer horror of it all.


Hairbows.

My Checklist for the Week

Let me tell you, some weeks are crazy and some are just plain insane. Last week was just plain insane.

On Monday:
Met with our Occupational Therapist to brainstorm once again how to feed Corban, since he a) aspirates on thin liquids and b) won't eat thick ones. Check

Deal with severe bouts of constipation, including crying, screaming, turning red in the face, etc., and agonize over how, what and when to feed this child. Check 

On Tuesday:
Take all 3 kids to Corban's ophthalmologist appointment to find out our 14 month old needs GLASSES. Check

Perform "surgery" on my baby to get him to poop, and get stool samples for the pediatrician, to test for blood. Check

Notice after 5 o'clock that I missed a long awaited phone call from our geneticist. Check

On Wednesday:
Call geneticist first thing in the morning and learn that Corban does not have the typical gene mutation for Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome and that they will keep on testing his genes for other variants. Check

Pack a lunch (and all 3 kids) to see Corban's upper extremities orthopedic doctor. Get halfway there, realize I forgot his milk at home, turn around and arrive at appointment 20 minutes late. Check

Check in, feed the kids, then see if we can break for Corban's 2 o'clock appointment with Orthopedic Services just down the road. Wait for doctor to adjust helmet so it doesn't create a ridge in the top of Corban's head anymore, along with a bright red spot on the side of his head. Check

Rush back to see his orthopedic doctor, only to sit there and wait for another couple hours. Finally see him, receive no new news, then load up the crew to head home after being out for 6 1/2 hours. With all 3 kids. Check

Collect more stool samples for pediatrician. Check

Remember to call the medical supply company so we don't completely run out of g-tube bags and find ourselves up a creek without a paddle. Check 

On Thursday:
Wake up to the sound of a knock at the door, quickly throw on some presentable clothes and greet the medical supply company delivery guy, with a smile (haha, not really). Check

Go to pediatrician appointment and discover that 3 out of 4 stool samples tested positive for blood. Check

And that he has a double ear infection. Check

Head to pick up his antibiotic and on the way, get a phone call from the GI doctor's office with an appointment time and another prescription medication for Corban to take. Check

Get Corban home for a SHORT nap, then head back out again and break all speed limits to make it to the lab before it closes at 5:00. Barely Check

Get a large vial of his blood drawn from his tiny little veins for the GI (gastrointestinal) doctor next week. Check

On Friday:
Brainstorm about what could be causing the bleeding, about double ear infections, about alternating medicines, how to get him to eat, and swallow studies, and bottles, and helmets, and hand splints, and constipation, and therapies, and endless doctor visits, and sleepless nights, and smiles, and baby laughter, and funny faces, and how all the troubles of this crazy life we have, seem to fade in light of the joys we receive. Check

Swallow Study Woes

Corban had his swallow study today. It was much like the day we went in for our ultrasound - starting out with nervous hope (that the test would show everything was fine) then ending with all hopes being dashed upon the rocks of reality.

Everything is not fine. He failed the study in more ways than one. He has so many different things to work on that it's hard to know where to start.

He aspirated rather quickly, which is not a good sign, especially given his age. It means this problem will not be going away anytime soon. And it means he's probably been aspirating all these months of feeding him. He just does it silently (without coughing).

The lady who conducted the test was amazed that he hasn't gotten pneumonia or any other respiratory infections yet, but said this was probably due to the fact that he's been on breastmilk (win!). The enzymes in the milk work at fighting bacteria, so if it hadn't been for this, he probably would have had multiple infections by now and would have been in for the test a lot sooner.

So, what does this mean? I don't really know.

I know it means we have another gigantic mountain to climb. It means we have another long road ahead of us; only this time it's not orthopedic. It means we have yet another complexity factor shoved into our already complex picture. And it means I might have a nervous breakdown. Or two. Or three.

Trying to remember Isaiah 40:30-31, "Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

Not feeling it. But praying for it.

Five Geneticists. One Cool Baby.

Many people have been asking the last couple days, "so, how'd it go with the geneticists on Friday?"

While I'd like to say, "it went splendidly and we came away with a definite diagnosis for Corban," I can't. We still don't know what his underlying condition/syndrome is. But we did draw FIVE top geneticists from all around the country together in one room to wonder over our little boy.

The line-up begins with Dr. Judith Hall, a geneticist/pediatrician who has studied arthrogryposis for over 40 years and is famous for her work on the book, Arthrogryposis: A Text Atlas. Next we have Dr. Michael Bamshad, from Seattle Children's Hospital. He is currently one of the top guys, if not the top, researching birth defects and causes/syndromes behind arthrogryposis. Then you have Dr. Ken Jones, of San Diego, California. He is considered to be the father of fetal alcohol syndrome, as its discoverer. Then there's Dr. Art Aylsworth of Chapel Hill, NC. He is also known for his work regarding birth defects, with over 40 years experience under his belt. And lastly, Dr. Roger Stevenson, who graciously made this meeting possible for us.

 

And if you're thinking, "Wow! All these important people gathered from all over the country JUST to meet Corban." Well.. they didn't. They were attending an annual genetics conference just a couple hours away from us. But it's rather uncanny how the conference (which is held in various locations all over the US and Canada) just happened to be in our area this year. And that Corban just happened to have his yearly check-up only one week prior to the conference. And that his geneticist just happened to have the sway to get all these important people together at the last minute. And that they just happened to have a break in the conference Friday afternoon to allow them to meet with us for an hour.

All that just happened? Hmm. I'd say that was the Lord, once again making a way for us.

So, what was the consensus of the meeting, you ask? I wish I knew! With 5 geneticists, there were about 5 different opinions. Dr. Stevenson and Dr. Bamshad want to test Corban for Freeman-Sheldon syndrome (or Sheldon-Hall syndrome). Dr. Hall thinks Corban has a connective tissue disorder (possibly Beals Syndrome). Dr. Stevenson suggested that maybe he has TWO syndromes, and Dr. Jones thinks he has something completely NEW!

AHHHH!!

So to say there was any kind of consensus... ? Uh, not really. But, we do have a few options, starting with getting samples of our DNA and sending it off to Dr. Bamshad in Seattle. If he can't find anything, then we'll most likely get a muscle biopsy during Corban's next surgery. And if that's inconclusive, then we'll just keep knocking on doors. And praying. Because that's really all we can do anyway.

The Road Ahead of Us

Well....

Corban and I just returned last night from our 7th trip up to Philadelphia. We had a routine check-up, traveling was rather smooth, so overall it was a decent trip.

It was a sobering journey though, as I was reminded "this ain't over yet." Corban has come SO far over the past year, and I was busy reveling in his birthday and all the progress he's made, that I kind of forgot how far we still have to go.

While his feet are looking amazing, it doesn't mean they won't ever need further correction. There's a chance he might have to have pins put in his feet again, later on down the road.

His hips are a MESS. His hips are still dislocated and the ball joints are backwards (from when his femurs broke at birth. They healed in the opposite direction). His hips should be corrected within the next 6 months or so and his doctor informed me on Monday that he will need to cut and remove a section of Corban's femurs so he can fit the hips into socket. So, his femurs will always be short. :(

Corban also has a little bit of scoliosis in his upper spine. Not super serious now, but something we'll need to keep an eye on as he grows.

And his knees. Oh! His knees...

They are bothersome. His right knee is subluxed, so the bones don't line up like they should. His left knee is also subluxed, but with an additional rotational craziness going on. So, they are both a mess, and will need correcting down the road. Doctor says probably when he's around 4 years old, he will need external fixators. Which in my book, stinks!

Have you seen these things? Can you imagine having this done to your leg? Ugh! Not what I want to see for my baby! I hate it.

I was so ready to move on. To get his hips corrected and move on. But it doesn't look like this road is ending anytime soon. We are not in for months of surgeries, but years. Years and years. And years.

Sigh.

Happy Birthday, Corban!!!!!!!

Now that Corban's first birthday has finally arrived, I've been scratching my head as to how I could even begin to tell you what this past year has been like. And I've decided... I can't tell you.

But I can show you.

Here goes...


Corban - Our Gift Dedicated to God from Corbani on Vimeo.

PS. For those of you who are a bit less technically savvy... If you'd like to watch this video full screen, click on the icon directly to the left of the word "vimeo."

So, What's with All the Gear?

It's always entertaining when Corban and I go out (usually to one of his many doctor appointments), to hear how people choose to ask about him. Some do it better than others. Sometimes it's easy to answer them graciously, and other times... uhhh, a little more challenging.

Like Monday, someone chose to strike up a conversation with me by asking, "so, what's wrong with your baby?"

Hmmm. What did I want to say? How about, "What planet did you just get kicked off? I mean, really. How about asking what's right with my baby?!? Then I'd tell you, 'SO MUCH!' He's been through more in his short baby life than most of us ever have or will, and he's come out ALIVE to tell about it. With a smile on his face, nonetheless! And if you're insinuating that I did something to cause his condition, no, I didn't. This is how God gave him to me. He could have been born to anyone - including you. But you know, I'm awfully glad he wasn't! Because if he were, he would be stuck with an insensitive mother who strikes up conversations with complete strangers with, 'what's wrong with your baby?'" 

But, I didn't say that. What I actually said was, "He has a condition called 'arthrogryposis' that affects his joints and muscles." I figured that would probably be the more godly response, and all she really wanted to hear anyway.

So, that was Monday's adventure. On Tuesday, I met someone else who came up with a more creative way of asking about Corban. AFTER she said hello and talked to me for a bit, she asked, "so.... what's with all the gear?"

Haha. "What's with all the gear." You know, honestly, I would probably wonder that too. And there's a good chance many of you might as well. So, I thought I'd take a quick minute to explain what all the "gear" is really for.

Cranial Molding Helmet. It's nothing serious. It's nothing dangerous. Corban just has a flat head. He spent the first 5 months of his life in the NICU where he could barely move or be moved (4 broken bones + chest tubes + ventilator + feeding tube). So he spent a good bit of time on his back. While he's doing much better now, he still is very limited in his mobility. Thus, his head is a little flat.

The doctor says, he'll need to wear it about 4 months. Which, really, is nothing compared to a lifetime of having a beautifully shaped head. I'll take the 4 months of sweaty, stinky head, any day! Just praying it actually works!!

 

Hand splints. Pretty simple. We gotta get those fingers opened so he can use his hands! Hopefully with lots of splinting we'll be able to get his fists opened and avoid further treatment. Although, his upper extremities doc says he might end up needing surgery on his thumbs down the road. I'm hoping he's wrong.

AFOs (ankle foot orthotics). Just some really awesome shoes. He'll be wearing these guys for a few years (as he grows) to keep his feet in the right place. After 6 sets of casts, foot surgery, and 5 trips up to Philadelphia, he'll be sporting these babies FOREVER! ;)

So, I hope that little explanation helps, and puts you at ease when you see all the weird things my baby is wearing these days. He's ok. Really, you won't break him by looking at him! He just needs a little extra equipment to help him along in life.

And can I just take a moment to say, I think my baby is beautiful? He puts a smile on my face every time he sucks on that bottom lip of his. When he smiles with his eyes. When he kicks his legs with excitement over something he's accomplished. There's nothing "wrong" with him. He's perfect! And without all the "gear," it's easier to see how handsome he really is.

So, without further adieu, I present to you, Corban Levi. Gear-less...

X-Ray Vision

 After 5 long months in the NICU, wondering what was to become of our baby. After 3 1/2 months of traveling back and forth to Philadelphia. After 6 sets of casts. After surgery. After sorrows.

JOY!

Joy, is just what I've been praying for these last 10 months, and joy is what I have today. I've been looking at these pictures over and over and over again, and no matter how many times I look at them, I smile. To see just how far we've come, truly makes me stand in awe.

I stand in awe of God, who, by his rich mercy has brought us this far. I stand in awe of Corban's doctor, who has made a masterpiece out of twisted, crooked feet. And I stand in awe of Corban, who has fought harder than any baby should have to fight, yet has turned out to be one of life's greatest gifts.

I suppose, if I could have seen 10 months ago how this story would turn out, I wouldn't have been such a stressed out, frazzled, emotional wreck. Maybe I'd have made a few less enemies too! But I wasn't afforded such a luxury. I couldn't see down that telescope of time to know that we'd be at this point. I honestly didn't know if Corban was going to survive.

If only, I had x-ray vision. Right? Trusting God would have been so much easier. SO much easier. But then I wonder, what if this story hadn't ended so well? What if Corban didn't make it? I would have lost hope. I might have given up. I may have even closed my heart to this amazing little boy. And I would have missed out on this very precious life.

So, I'm glad I don't have x-ray vision. I'm glad I couldn't see down that telescope of time. And even now, I am tempted to want a sneak peek to see if Corban will walk, use his fingers, be fully independent, etc. But I'll resist. Only God knows the future. Only God orders our steps. So, I'll leave the future for God, and be sure to thank him for the present. It truly is a gift.

Strummin' His Guitar

I thought this was too cute not to share! Corban, strummin' his toy guitar. How awesome is that? Hee hee. I think it's a sign. A talented musician in the making right here, folks.

 Got a couple great smiles on camera too....

Don't you just wanna eat him up??

A Good Night's Sleep

If any of you wonder why I look haggard and sleep deprived these days, it might be because I've had a night like last night. What do I mean? Well, let me explain.

It began yesterday afternoon. Corban didn't want to take his nap, but cried off and on instead. The crying went on into the evening, and as any of you who've had newborns know, it really can be a guessing game to figure out what's wrong with them. After a dozen attempts to "make it all better" and hope I stumbled upon something that worked, I began to realize he must be having tummy trouble (most likely gas).

So, after hearing him cry most of the afternoon and into the evening, I finally got him to settle down around 8/8:30. He slept, but only for a half an hour or so, then he was up crying again. In the meantime, his older brother and sister are both clamoring for my attention, crying, whining, fighting, ready to go to bed.

He calms down after a little while, and we get the other kids in bed. But Corban is wide awake, and remains wired until....

11:30pm - Put Corban to bed, hoping and praying he sleeps through the night. I'm plum worn out from a LONG day!!
12:00am - Corban cries. Run upstairs and attempt burping him, repositioning him and giving him his pacifier. Have venting tube in his G-tube to try to release gas and make him more comfortable.
12:15/12:30am - Corban finally goes to sleep.
1:00am - Get ready for bed. Get Corban's milk ready to go over the pump, 9 oz. in 6 hours.
1:30/2:00am - Finally fall asleep.
3:30am - Corban cries. Notice the G-tube pump stopped with a feed error. Hit "continue" and try to figure out what's wrong with Corban. Turn him to his side and give him his pacifier. That seems to settle him for the time being.
5:30am - Pump stopped again. Inspect the tubing to make sure clamp is not closed and hit "continue." Again. Turn the alarm on so I hear it, if there's a problem.
5:45am - Alarm sounds. Discover the milk hasn't been delivering and the bag is still full from when I filled it up at 1am. Take tubing out of the pump and re-feed it. Turn up the delivery rate and pray he doesn't get a tummy ache from it being too fast.
6:30am - Corban cries. Stick pacifier in his mouth and hope that resolves the problem, not really jumping for joy over another middle of the night brain storming session.
7:15am - He cries again. Pacifier again.
8:15am - Pacifier.
10:25am - Corban wakes up happy. Mommy, on the other hand........
Sigh.

So, if you're tempted to be jealous of me when I take an afternoon nap, don't be. There's a good reason why you might not be able to reach me at 2:00 in the afternoon. It is not because I'm soaking in excessive amounts of zzzz's. I'm catching up.

Traveling Trauma

When I first started considering taking Corban up to Philadelphia for his orthopedic care, I thought, "how fun! I'll get out of the house, have a break from the kids, meet new people, and have a world of new experiences." Well, not really, but sort of. At the very least, I thought, "this won't be so bad!"

I am here to tell you, that after today, I am definitely rethinking how fun this whole traveling thing is.

First of all, I think I can pretty confidently say that only half of the drivers in Philadelphia obey traffic laws. The other half? They pull out in the middle of the street while you are driving 55 mph (on the main road) then just about plaster the side of their car to the front of yours, before you squeeze by and avoid a high speed collision. Then after you've cheated death by a few feet, a pedestrian crosses the road. And then another. And then another. Then you have bike lanes, bus lanes and one-way streets. The buses take up half of their lane and half of yours. You pray your way past the bicyclists as they swerve in and out of traffic. And the one-way streets! Oh, the one-way streets. They're EVERYWHERE!! I hold my breath each time I turn, praying I'm not about to meet oncoming traffic.

Traffic lights are on the side of the road (not over the road, like I've always known and loved), some streets have 4 way stops, and some have 2 way. And you never know which one you're at. And the best part? People run red lights. All. The. Time.

But if driving around Philadelphia doesn't provide enough traveling trauma in a day, there's always flying. And it's not the getting there that's a problem, it's the getting back that scares me.

Let me just tell you about my day and you'll understand.

Woke up around 9:30 this morning after Corban cried off and on all throughout the night. Makes for a very long night! He usually has trouble the first day, as those casts can be a painful adjustment for him. It's hard on both of us. :I But we immediately start preparing to leave, knowing we have no time to spare. Flight leaves at 3:24pm. 

After eating breakfast, making a lunch to take with me, feeding Corban, packing up all 3 bags that have just been strewn all over the room, stripping the beds, taking out the trash, cleaning the bathroom, making sure everything is back in it's original place (RMH requirements), checking out, lugging all 3 bags, Corban, his car seat and stroller out to the rental car, it's about 12:30pm. Plenty of time, right?

We load up the car and head off to fill the gas tank before I return the rental. I find the nearby Wawa (I love saying that word! Wawa? Wawa.) It takes 3 times of "green light red light" in the left turn lane before I'm able to turn into the gas station. But wait! Before I do, someone cuts right in front of me in the middle of the intersection and takes a left before I finally get my turn. Shocked, I manage to pull into the gas station, fill 'er up, and drive down the road to the car rental return. By then, it's 1:30 and time for Corban to eat again. 

So, I sit in the rental car lobby to feed Corban for a half and hour (which is how long it always takes him to eat. At least.) Then we load everything onto the shuttle bus and head for the airport (another 15 minutes, or so). 

Arrive at the airline. Check in. Then I haul everything upstairs to greet TSA (yippee ki yay. I love this part). I take out all the liquids I'm carrying (I have many) and place them in quart sized baggies so I don't get yelled at. Then I join the line, take off my shoes, jewelry, and empty everything out of my pockets. I place all 3 backpacks (my luggage backpack, pump, and Corban's g-tube pump) in the plastic tubs they give you, then line them up on the conveyer belt. I take Corban and his car seat out of the stroller, collapse the stroller, place it on the conveyer belt. Then take Corban out of his car seat so I can one-handedly put that on the conveyer belt too (upside down, of course. Again, don't want to get yelled at.) Then Corban and I are finally able to walk through the metal detector. As soon as we make it through, I immediately put my shoes on, and start reassembling everything I just took apart to get through security. Then without fail, they pull me aside to test Corban's milk. If I'm really lucky, they might inspect his g-tube bag or wipe down his casts too, but not today. 

By now, it's 2:30. Ish. 

But I have to find time to pump in all of this madness. Can't do it on the plane. So, I find a handicapped bathroom where Corban and I can be left alone. I thought this was the perfect solution to my awkward dilemma, until someone knocked on the door. And again. And again. They ended up knocking 3 or 4 times before they finally YELL "are you done?? Someone's waiting to use the bathroom!!!" Sigh. Such a glamorous moment.

SO, we leave the highly-sought-after-private-not-so-private restroom, to catch a shuttle bus to our terminal. I walk down the hall, over to the elevator, and get interrupted by yet another person asking how old my baby is and "aw, he must have just been born" when I proceed to tell them he's actually 8 months old and "no, he's not crawling." We take the elevator downstairs, wait for the shuttle to arrive, and by then it's 2:55. I'm realizing that at this point I'm cutting it dangerously close. 

We take the shuttle and arrive in the middle of the terminal at 3:09. My gate it at the end of the terminal. At this point, I'm imagining missing my plane and getting stuck in the airport until the next flight at 9 PM, so I run as fast as I can to my gate. I'm talking, baby + stroller + 3 bags, swerving madly in and out of people, trying not to run them over, fast. I would have loved to have seen what I looked like!! Or maybe I wouldn't.

I arrive at my gate at 3:15, notice the sign that says "doors close 10 minutes prior to departure," and completely start to panic. The gate attendant looks at me with puzzled eyes, as I drip with sweat (she probably saw me running through the airport like a manic and knows I'm not just trying out a new exercise routine). I manage to get out in between my hyperventilating breaths, "Am I too late to board?" 

She replies, "Oh. The plane isn't here yet."

Wow. And the best part? It ended up being an hour late.

So, when I say I'm on my way to Philly, think of me. And maybe even say a little prayer. Because if my trip is anything like it was today, I need all the prayer I can get!!!

Definite Progress

I thought you all would like to see the progress on Corban's feet, so far. It definitely makes an impression, when you can see where he started and how far he's come. Isn't it amazing?!

G-tube, Forever? Please No.

Corban is still very happy to be home, and we are THRILLED to have him home! He has been sleeping better this past week, which makes a huge difference in our overall sanity.

He's still not doing very well taking a bottle, though. After being on the ventilator for 4 months and a feeding tube for close to 5, he's not used to this whole "feeding" thing. His sucking reflex is weak, his palate is high (from ventilator tubing), he often chokes on the milk, gets scared and cries, then doesn't want to have anything to do with it. I'm always nervous when that happens, knowing that aspirating is a real possibility for him.

His overall muscle weakness (from the AMC) is a factor too. It means that doing something as simple as taking a bottle, requires a lot of energy. And now that he is spending more time and energy working on oral feeds, it means his weight gain has slowed down. He's expending more energy on the "work of eating."

What a concept, right? The "work of eating." Don't I wish I could classify "eating" as "work!" Well, for him, it is. So, it's a tricky balance. We want him to eat on his own, but we also want him to GROW. Feed him through the G-tube, and he grows. But then he doesn't learn how to eat. Feed him through the bottle, and he doesn't grow. What can I do? I can't win.

And not to spend all my time complaining. He's doing great! He really is. He's come such a long way from where he was a couple months ago. Even just a few weeks ago! He's a miracle baby. And I'm thankful for the G-tube.

But, I would LOVE for him to go even further in this area. It would make life a lot easier on all of us. The way things are going now, I spend a good 6-8 hours a day on his feeds (between pumping, bottle feeding, g-tube feeding, cleaning his bottles, bags and the tubing for the g-tube pump). I can't do much else right now, but feed him.

Photo Shoot

Corban had his very first photo shoot today. Not like the ones Mommy did in the NICU. THESE actually look good. Our dear friend, Kristi, got some amazing shots and was sweet to give us the photo shoot as a gift. So, you can gawk. It's ok. Just click on the picture to enlarge it if you want to gawk up close.  

 

Gaining Weight... FINALLY!

Corban's still doing really well and enjoying being home. We've been enjoying him too. Of course. But to make sure we aren't the only ones who think he's doing well, we've been having a home health nurse come out twice a week to check on him and make sure he's gaining enough weight. He was 5lb. 1oz. at birth and left the NICU 5 months later at 7lb. 7oz., so weight gain hasn't exactly been his strong suit. Well, today, I am proud to announce that he has consistently gained an ounce a day over the last 2 weeks. He is now a whopping 8lb. 13oz.! Woo-hoo! We'll start calling him "fat squishy" in no time at all!

Just Soaking It In

I had a sweet, sweet time with my boys tonight. Decided to forget about the stacks of dishes and piles of laundry, and instead, just enjoy having my family together at last. First, I soaked in my time with Corban, rocking him in the glider to my heart's content, singing him some of his favorite songs. Then I pulled out a couple books, held the boys in my lap, and read to them for as long as we wanted to. I finally convinced myself that "it is bedtime" after all and they'll need to go to sleep at some point. So, I set Corban down and went to put J in bed. I gave him a hug and a kiss, put him in bed and said, "I love you, J." As I turned my back and started to walk out, my man of very few words said for the first time, "Me. Too."

Wow. Even the largest of vocabularies cannot express the joy of that moment. I'd say it was well worth a sink full of dirty dishes. :)