ALC Grand

(Week 4, day 5)
  A couple of weeks ago I took my daughter clothes shopping. Staci, her mother and I went to get her some much needed summer clothes. It started out innocent enough, we looked at shorts, we looked at dresses and we looked at a few shirts as well. Then without warning it all went south. My wife decided that it was finally time, after years of her being my baby girl who I carried from the car to the house when she was sleeping, who I tucked into bed each night and who I still see as that 4-year-old who I helped dress in her uniform and take her to her very first day of pre-school, that it was time to get her a bra. Devastation, heartbreak, agony, sorrow, pain. These are but a few of the first feelings that I felt. I fought it. I tried to argue my point. I tried to plead my case. I tried to hide the bra. Ok I did hide the bra but I denied it all the way back to the store with my wife shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Here I am with a brand new baby boy and what I thought was my already baby girl. I was wrong. Time is passing and his birth I guess was a signal that she was no longer my baby but is a big sister. And as much as I am loath to admit it, big sisters need bras.
  On the other side of the child coin my Aiden is doing well. What surprises me the most at this point is how much he has already developed a personality. It's been a month and he knows what he likes, he really knows what he doesn't like, he has comfortable positions (his stomach), he smiles, he fights (way more than he should) and he can communicate. He's a little man. Luckily we're getting a house because he's already used to his own digs so I don't know what he'd do if he had to share. I wonder sometimes if he's getting used to all the beeps and that go on in his room. Tanisha compares it to a casino with all the bells and dings and even a few dongs. When I was growing up I needed an air purifier next to my bed. It hummed, and to this day I sleep so much more comfortably with a fan on. I wonder if we're going to have to move to Vegas for him to sleep once he comes out of the hospital.
  Today I tried to imagine him coming home from the hospital. I couldn't. Something was blocking me from that and I'm not sure what it was. I'm so used to him where he is now I had a hard time picturing him home. I have before. Usually when the thought comes up I have no problem seeing him without any wires or tubes sticking in and out of him, but today I couldn't. I guess it was just because I'm getting so used to the situation he's in at the moment. It's part of a coping mechanism. I'm not sure what you've heard, but time does NOT fly when your child is in the NICU. It drags. Considerably. So in order to cope with what's happening I have to limit my thoughts of the future because then I long for it more and it makes me impatient. I can't afford impatience. One of the first thing the doctors and nurses tell you is that it's going to take a lot of patience to get through this. So I guess because of that I was unable to picture him home.
  What I CAN picture is what he's going to look like. Oh yeah, my son looks like ME. I didn't think he'd have much looks this early because I know he's got so much developing to do, but he has features and many of those features come from me. My wife is getting upset. She says she wanted at least something to come from her. I know he'll have some similar looks that he gets from her but right now he's not giving her much confidence. Not only does he look like me, he's already acting like me. I put my arm over my head sometimes (picture coming below). It's something I got from my father. Usually I do it when I'm sitting down relaxing, but as you'll see that's not the only time I do it. One of my wife's new things is to take pictures of me when I'm sleeping. With her pumping breast milk every 3 hours she has a hard time sleeping through the night, so when she sees a position she has taken to snapping pictures. Well one evening she snapped a picture of me she thought was funny. A couple of days later we took a picture of Aiden sleeping. If you look very closely you may see some resemblance:

I always wanted to know what it would be like to be black

(Week 2, day 7)
  Of all the things that are going on with my son (he's in the NICU, his lungs aren't fully developed, he can't always digest food, he's on a ventilator) it seems the most hot topic of discussion as family is gathered around his incubator is what color he will be. Personally I don't think he'll be dark but I think he won't be white either. I'm going with a medium brown color. According to some he is starting to resemble me. I'm not so sure about that but what I do know is he has mannerisms like I do already. One of my favorite things is when he rests his arm over his head. Not only do I do that, but my father does it also. Apparently this is a trait we're passing on. He also sleeps with his mouth open. I sleep with my mouth open. My wife thinks this is the most hilarious thing. I admit it feels so good to look at a little version of me. I smile when I think of him being his own person, but still doing some of the things I do.

 
  Unfortunately it's not all smiles. I have to apologize here to anyone who reads this blog that I have not been writing for the past 2 weeks. I know I've been here before, but this time it feels a lot different. I'm tired. I'm stressed out. It's hard to talk about let alone write about. I want to thank my step mother for inspiring me to write today. She is a writer and has written a blog following a difficult experience she went through. I was reading an article she wrote and in it she talked about being painfully honest in your writing. While I haven't lied about anything I have put in here since writing, I have not always told the entire story. I've held back some thoughts for many reasons, but recently I've held back a lot because I don't want to stress out my wife any more than she already is. The truth is I'm scared. I'm moody often because I can crack a joke or talk to someone but my thoughts always quickly come back to my son. I don't want to see him in the NICU. I want him home with me. When I go to bed in order to calm myself down I close my eyes and imagine he's lying next to me. I see him looking at me and smiling. I'm able to hold him. Last night I dreamed that he was talking to me. He asked me what he was going to be like when he grew up. I told him how strong he would be. I told him he would be intelligent and good looking. I told him he'd be a great baseball player and he would be big. I woke up crying. Right now of course he can't talk to me, and I only get to talk to him through plastic covering. I want to cry a lot but usually I don't. I don't want Tanisha to think I'm scared or that I don't have full confidence that Aiden will be anything but healthy and strong when he leaves the hospital. I do believe that with certainty, but sometimes I still just want to cry. I want to let out all of the emotions from the past month. It seems like we've been through so much that we're at the end of a long trial, but in actuality it's just the beginning. This doesn't discourage me, it just feels weird that this is actually happening. It seems almost like I'm playing a role in a play of a man who is going through this situation, but then there are times when it truly hits me that this is my life, not someone else's.
  I get tired. Mostly from lack of sleep but also from having to answer the same questions all day every day. I get asked, emailed, texted and Facebooked all day the same exact questions. "How's your baby doing? How's your wife?" Yesterday 2 people at work I don't even know asked me and today someone who I had no idea knew what was going on asked me. It's starting to drive me crazy. What do they expect? Do they want me to say everything is great? Do they expect me to actually tell them everything that's going on? I've come up with a standard answer but I don't like it because it doesn't really do my son justice, but it gets me out of the conversation which right now I need that more. I'm so appreciative that people are concerned, and believe me everyone who asks is genuinely concerned. I love that because you can see they care. I'm just tired of the same thing over and over. I guess I'm ungrateful, but I don't feel ungrateful. I feel annoyed. And sad. I love my son.

First breath

(Week1, Day 6)
  What a week this has been! My son is almost one week old and it seems like a month. Maybe two. I can't imagine me coming out of this without more gray hairs. I'm going to have to try Just For Men to see if they have my color. So far in the last 6 days Aiden was born, put on a oscillator (ventilator), put on medicine for his blood pressure, put on antibiotics, put on a sedative, given blood, given caffeine, had a test for bacteria, had several x-rays, had a head ultrasound, taken off the oscillator, taken off the blood pressure medicine, taken off the sedative, had a hole in his heart close (by itself), had an extra air pocket in his lung taken out (by the doctors), taken his first breaths on his own, forgotten to breath, remembered to breath again, fed his mother's milk for the first time and had my wedding ring around his foot. What have YOU done this week?
  Aiden breathing on his own is a huge deal. The longer premature babies are kept on an oscillator the more damage that can be done to their lungs. It's usually not permanent damage but for a baby as fragile as he is any damage is bad regardless of how long it lasts. They tried to take him off yesterday but his heart rate dropped significantly so they aborted. Today Tanisha and I were in the room with him and he handled it like a champ. It may be that he has to go back on the oscillator again to breath for him, but any time off is good time for his lungs. After they finished I was writing down a couple of milestones he's reached already. I wrote down, "Took his first breath by himself." Then I started crying. It's crazy that my son taking a breath on his own is a milestone and it hit me hard. I'm not sad, just overwhelmed. I'm so happy actually. My boy is strong. He continues to have good days and do things to surprise the doctors. They took a culture of his blood and expected bacteria to grow which would show if he had an infection. It didn't, and they were very surprised. Not me. He has defied expectations from the day he was born crying, why should he stop now?
  I got to hold him for the first time today also. That was very exciting. They turn him over every few hours to keep him from having sore spots so I got to help turn him on his belly. It was magical. 6 days into his life and I finally get to hold my son in my hands. I didn't want to let him go.
  In other news, I'm worried about my daughter. She's been staying with her cousins and having a ball, but I don't like being away from her this much and I'm worried what she thinks about us spending so much time with Aiden and not her. We've explained why he needs us here so badly, but she's 9. In her mind she needs us just as much. We've been taking time every day now to be with her but it's just not the same. I will make sure she's with me all day on father's day, however I'd bet I'm more worried about it than she is. The great thing about Staci is she is so good at adapting to her situation. It's what makes her so strong. I think Aiden picked that up from her. I'm so proud of them both, what more could a father of the year ask for?

WATCH MY LITTLE MAN BREATH ON HIS OWN:

I don't care what it is just give it to me!

(Week 1, day 1 retro blog)
  June 10th, 2010. I went to work while my wife was in considerable pain. I know that sounds horrible and harsh, but the truth is we need to continue earning a living and my job is 2 miles away from the hospital. My mom was with her so I knew I'd get contacted if something was going on. I have little idea what the trainer was talking about in the first hour and ten minutes I was there, but at 9:10 a.m. when I got the first text from my mom, focus was all out the window. I jumped when I saw her name pop up, but it was just a text saying my wife was in pain but ok. We talked back and forth a few minutes and I was left with the thought that the doctors were giving Tanisha medicine to calm her uterus and stop the contractions. Then 31 minutes later at 9:41 a.m. I got another text from my mom. "She wants you here, the mag(nesium) hasn't started working yet." And it never did. I rushed to the hospital to be by my wife. Now I haven't written on this blog for a few days because it has been a whirlwind since Aiden was born. During that time I thought about what I would write and how much I would include. Then I remembered at the very beginning of this blog I promised I would tell the truth. Well, here it is. As soon as I left the building on my way to the car I started crying. Ok, not crying but bawling. Like a baby. I lost it. I hadn't really lost it since this whole situation started. Sure I cried a few times but never like this. I was crying and babbling something while pulling out of the parking lot, "Oh God please don't let anything happen to my wife or my baby!" At least I think that's what I said. Nobody was there so I could have actually said, "Oh God please give me a ham and cheese sandwich!" I just don't remember, but the first one sounds right so we'll go with that. I was half out of my mind but I had the presence to drive slowly, no time for car wrecks today.
  I let it all out because I knew when I walked in that door I had to look like the coolest man on the planet. The moment I panicked my wife would lose it. I got it together as I was walking through the hospital. I came in the room and immediately went to my wife. Her contractions had started coming closer and closer. Our baby coming was becoming a reality. I went to her bedside and held her hand. I gently stroked her cheek and looked at her, encouraging her how great she was and how everything would be fine.
  "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Was her response. I jumped back. Ok, I can be compliant. Whatever you want. She was in horrible pain so I just stood around waiting instead of trying to console her. Obviously now was not the time. She didn't want me, her mom, my mom or anything but to get rid of that pain. Finally the anesthesiologist came in. Now I need to digress a moment here. Throughout her entire stay at the hospital my wife had something strapped to her belly that was supposed to show if she was having contractions. It didn't work. It never worked the entire time, however the nurses didn't seem to believe these were contractions because the monitor wasn't picking them up. Finally the nurse on duty, Michelle (one of my wife's favorite nurses not only because she was good and kind, but because she was the ONLY nurse with warm hands) said that this wasn't like the usual Tanisha when she was in pain and called for the anesthesiologist, Julie. I know I don't usually use names but Julie is SO much easier to type than anesthesiologist. Anyway, Julie came in because it was time for the epidural. However the last piece of information Julie had was that Tanisha was 3 cm dilated (that was Monday). Since nobody really thought Aiden was coming, and they were scared to check because nobody wanted to break her water, we were still going by the 3 cm. Tanisha said several times, "He's coming! I feel him coming!" but as wonderful as our nurses and doctors were, they still fall prey to the attitude of "I'm the expert" so they didn't believe her. Well this is significant because when Julie put in the epidural, it was too late and nobody knew it. So guess what people? My wife had that boy without ANY pain meds. It's not like they didn't try. The nurse asked about another medication while we were waiting for the epidural that didn't work to kick in. The nurse explained what the new medication was because they have to do that before they put something into a pregnant woman. She needs the choice to say yes or no, you understand. My wife responded with, "I don't care what it is just give it to me!" They did, but that didn't work either.
  Finally our doctor, the geneticist we visited to make sure Aiden didn't have certain genetic issues, who is also a high risk pregnancy specialist came in. She checked for Tanisha's cervix to see how far along she was. She never made it because her fingers ran smack dab into my son's head. "I feel a head. This baby is coming" she said matter-of-factly. She calmly called for the delivery team, then started humming. I don't know what she was humming, but it brought a perfect calm into the room. Then my wife's water broke. She kept humming. I think without that Tanisha would not have been able to hang on long enough for the delivery team. But she did. In they rushed with all of the necessary equipment in tow. The doctor went over to Tanisha to give her instructions. She had to wait, the NICU team wasn't quite ready yet. My wife wanted to push so bad. "Not yet sweety, just a little more time," the doctor said calmly. Then not so calmly she yelled to the NICU team, "Are we ready?" Not yet. At this point I was already back at my wife's side at her request. We held hands. Now was the time to encourage. "Just a little bit longer. You're so wonderful baby. Just one more minute, don't push yet!" Then, finally it was time. The doctor told her to push. She did. 4 times. Four pushes to change our lives, and at 11:58 a.m. I saw this small, purple, perfect body slide out of my wife. There he was. Ready or not my son was here. My heart skipped a beat. The doctor cleared his mouth and throat. He cried. My son was crying. I was overjoyed. I have thought and dreamed about hearing my son cry for weeks. If he can cry, he has lungs. He can breath. He can live. The NICU team took him and immediately put him on oxygen. They had to get a tube down his through. The nurse-practitioner tried once, but it didn't go. Stubborn like his mom. I was so scared. I went over by them to watch the process and shout updates to Tanisha. I was so scared, but I kept a smile on my face. I kept looking at my wife smiling, giving her the thumbs up. I don't know if she saw the fear in my face, but I felt it. Please God, get that tube in there. Then one of the nurses told us he was taking breaths on his own. "My son is amazing," I thought. I could still hear him crying, ever so faintly. It was music. It was a melodious symphony in my ears. I could have listened to it all day. They tried 2 more times, and finally the tube went down. The NICU team transferred him to the incubator and whisked him away. They had to take him upstairs to stabilize him, but at that point I just knew he was going to live. The fear was gone, replaced by faith. My son was born, he was alive, he breathed, he cried, and he was going to be ok.

The Miracle Baby

(Week 24, Day 3)
  I don't even really know where to begin. I will start with the facts as I try to gather my thoughts. I thought taking last night would help with that, but I guess the only cure for this writer's block is to write and let it flow out. My son, Aiden Lucas Cohen was born on June 10, 2010 at 11:58 a.m. His official birth size was 1 lb 9 oz and 12.25 inches. He is currently in the NICU and while the nurses keep telling us he's sick, he is holding up better than any of them imagined he could. They are all calling him a miracle baby. There is a lot to still go through and we still have to take this each day, but we feel very good about where our son is right now. He will get better and come home to us.
  This is still very unreal to me. When I started this blog I fully expected to be discussing the slow but steady development of my son and wife (and of course myself, the Father of the Year) for about 8 months. Then life threw a Sandy Koufax curve ball at me. For the last 2 1/2 weeks I lived my life, albeit in a hospital room. I tried to continue blogging, continue interacting with friends and family and just continue living. However, all I could think about for those 18 days, every single minute of those 18 days, was that I wanted my son to live. I just wanted to see him in real life alive. Was that too much to ask? I didn't think it was a selfish or unfair request. Now that he is alive, now that I got exactly what I asked God for, I can't stop thinking how happy I am. I cannot believe it. My son is here and he's alive. The nurse last night entered all of his data into a system and found that developmentally he is equivalent to a 28-week-old baby. Of course the first thing Tanisha says is, "I told you the conception date was off!" She admits however that it couldn't possibly be more than a week off. MAYBE even two, but certainly not a whole month. As big as she was, there was a reason for that. The 76th, 85th and 96th percentile numbers were more important than we realized. The conception argument was more relevant that we realized, but ultimately not important because when he was ready to come, he was coming and nothing could stop him.
  I love my son. I love my wife for being stronger than I could have ever been, stronger than I could have ever asked her to be and as perfectly strong as her son needed her to be. Sometimes I cry (like now for instance) when I think about it all. It's so far from over, but it could have been over a long time ago. It's not. He's alive. He's fighting like a Cohen man should. He's my boy. I love you Aiden. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going up to see my miracle baby.

96!

(Week 23, Day 6)
  Today Tanisha was experiencing a lot of pain in her abdomen. The doctor thought it would be a good time to do an ultrasound (it was originally supposed to be 2 days later) and see what was going on. When they started looking in there, the first thing they noticed was that Aiden's head was down. This is huge news because it means he is not breach and if he comes any time soon she wont need a C-section. Then they looked at him to see how everything was doing and checked to see if there was enough amniotic fluid. There was. Then they looked at her cervix. Not only was in no longer fully dilated, but it went down to 3 centimeters! When we first came in she was 5.  Lastly, they were able to see how big he was. At 23 weeks and 6 days, my son is 1 pound 12 ounces. Our doctor told us in order for them to have a reasonable chance at doing anything if he were born right now Aiden would have to be in the 90th percentile for babies his age. If you remember a few weeks ago he was in the 76th percentile. Then the last ultrasound he was in the 85th percentile. Now at 1 pound 12 ounces he's in the 96th percentile! If you think about it, that means my son is one of the biggest babies EVER! For his age. And he's been growing at an amazingly consistent accelerated pace. We are very excited to say the least. We have been praying so much, we are so glad that even if he comes earlier than we want, he's got as good of a chance of survival as he can possibly have. Thank God for that.
  The day didn't start off this good, though. This morning as I said my wife was having pains. While we were waiting for the nurse I got into the bed with her so I could hold and comfort her as best I could. I mentioned the Trendelenburg position last post, but I didn't write about it (I told you my mind is going). A long time ago some doctor named, you guessed it, Trendelenburg figured that if you make the bed so it can tilt back with your head down and feet up it can help take pressure off the abdomen. This can be helpful for abdominal surgeries and, of course, babies trying to cheat by coming early into the world. So when she gets the pains in her stomach we put her in the Trendelenburg. This morning when I got into the bed with her, she was in that position. I had been wanting to see what it was like so this was a perfect opportunity for a little research. At first it was not a problem. Then after a few short moments, my head started swimming. So I tried to combat this effect by raising my head up. Yeah that worked for about one minute until my neck started getting sore. I put my head back down and tried to relax. I mean, she'd been in and out of this position since she got here, how hard could it be? I was soon to find out. Pretty soon my neck started hurting. It felt like my body was coming down on top of me and the pressure was in my neck. Not to worry, that didn't last long. No, my back was soon very willing to share that burden. The next thing I knew my head, neck and back were hurting and it felt like I had shrunk 6 inches as my body collapsed onto itself. I have a new found respect for my wife. I've been telling her how great she's been doing holding it together for the sake of our son. That was the understatement of the year. All I know is, as my son grows if he ever decides he wants to give his mother a hard time, he's going to get an EARFUL from me about what she went through to bring him in this world.
 As I spend almost my entire life in its current incarnation in a hospital with my wife, I have found that we have some really and truly wonderful friends and family members. It's times like these when you know who really loves you and I can say for sure our family really loves us. I cannot imagine going through this without the many many people who have been here to spend time with us, support us, talk to us, pray for us and, most importantly cook for us. We have the best support system in the world, there's no question. Even the nurses comment on it. Thank you to all my family and friends who have gone out of their way for us. We love you all.
  Ok I have more to say but I ALWAYS get complaints when my blogs are "too long" so in the interest of my readership, I'll sign off for now. This is the Father of the Year saying, this is the Father of the Year saying "Good night."

Trendelenburg position

(Week 23, day 4)
  It's hard to type about the situation we're in right now. I'm very stressed and so is my wife. We have faith that our child will be ok and we're in great hands, but you just can't stop the mind from wandering. Add on top of that trouble sleeping (both of us) and it's even harder to stay stress free. Sometimes I just think about how close my baby is to being born. As much as we need him to stay in the womb as long as possible, it's so difficult not to picture him coming into this world. I can't wait to see him. I want to hold him, but when I picture him in my mind usually it's in the NICU, not in a crib. It's hard to erase those images. I'm already in love with my baby and I haven't met him yet. It's weird because I feel like I know him, and it's even weirder because I feel like he knows me too. We're going to be friends, I already know it.
  Going to work is still very difficult. My stomach is tight every time I go there and it doesn't loosen until I'm back "home" at the hospital with Tanisha. I've already had to leave early twice because we had false alarms, but it's never an option for me to stay because what if he does start to come and I'm at work? I would feel horrible.
  There are some great things coming out of this situation, though. I don't want anyone to think we're sitting around the hospital moping because that's far from the truth. We're spending a lot of quality time with our family. Also I have been able to take a good step back and look at my life. I've been able to put things into pretty good focus about what I should be doing vs. what I've been doing. I can see my future so clear sometimes, and then fear grips me and I can't see two feet in front of my face. It's hard to balance that, but I think we are doing a great job. The absolute best thing to come out of this is my wife and my relationship has strengthened a lot. I love her now in a different way I didn't know existed. I love you baby girl.
  The absolute worst thing to come out of this so far is my brain has developed a mind of its own. Maybe I have a positronic brain like in I Robot and it's turning on me, eventually leading to my demise. Or maybe I just need to sleep more. Either way I almost killed my brother twice yesterday (sorry Russ!) while we were driving. I gave him the keys to the car like I had been drinking, and for those of you who know how my brother drives, you know that's a big deal. Just kidding Russ...sort of.

Happy feet

(Week 22, Day 6)
  I FELT HIM KICK!!! Yes, I cried. I cried when I felt him kick. It was a very very big moment for me and it reminded me that with all that's going on out here, he's not aware of any of it and is doing great. Aiden's not touched by this, he's just growing and developing like he's supposed to. Here's how it happened. Tanisha felt him kick and called me to the bed. He stopped, but she put my hand on her belly. I started talking to him. "Hey son it's daddy. Come on and give me a kick." Nothing. "Come on Aiden, kick for daddy. Show me those happy..." and there it was! Just like a little punch on my palm. I don't even know how to describe the feeling. Warm, elation, relief, joy. Pick any or all of those words and I think it'll work. I love it. I can't imagine getting tired of it. Well, not until I get to hold him. I picture it sometimes and it makes me smile. I can imagine him in my arms. I can feel him. I see him kicking and swinging his arms. I hear him gurgling, giggling, cooing, crying. I see it so clear. I'm looking forward to it, but I can wait. I said before I was in no hurry for him to come, now more than ever.
 It's amazing not only how different I view this pregnancy now, but how differently I'm looking at life in general. Sometimes I try to think about life in a different way, but I've found that often it takes a huge event like this for us to really put things in a different perspective. What you think are priorities one day can be completely different the next day. I just canceled my TV and internet to cut down on bills. Last week I would have told you that was a necessity in my life. Now I could care less what comes on HGTV. I obviously still need the internet for the blog, but I have it at the hospital, and I could always go somewhere like the library or something to log on if I had to. I'll be completely honest, I'm not sure where I'm going with this. It's just that my days consist of a lot less than they used to, which leaves a lot more time for thinkin'.
  My daughter has kept it together better than anyone. The other day Tanisha's sister was explaining to Staci about what's going on with Aiden. She told her he needed to develop lungs before he came out. Staci didn't seem too worried about it. She said, "So, if he doesn't have lungs, he can't breath right?" Shanda said, "Yes." Then Staci countered with, "Well I'm not worried about it, because all God has to do is say 'Lungs' and Aiden will have lungs. I mean, that's what God does, right? He just says things and they can happen."
  One last thing, I'm still doing weird stuff. For the life of me I could not remember the last 4 digits of my social to verify an account of mine. Not the first 8, just the last 4. Then when I was at a store purchasing something the lady told me to type in my Debit Card pin and instead of putting it in the machine I told it to her. Out loud.

Slappin' da bass

(Week 22, day 5)
  I'm losing my mind. It's not bad. I can still function and interact with people and life. Wow I don't even think that sentence made complete sense. You see what I mean? Let me be a little more specific. I'm not sleeping as much as I'm used to. And I've got some stress as you can imagine. So usually I can cope with all of that just fine, but it manifests itself every now and then in strange ways. For example, I went to get some food today. I was waiting for them to complete my order so my mind started to wander. I'm thinking about Tanisha and Aiden and all the people who have been visiting and calling. I wasn't really dwelling on anything, this stuff was just passing through my head so I wasn't really focused. I've talked to so many people, I'm almost programed to thank them for calling and whatnot, so when the lady gave me the food I thanked her for her support and her prayer. I almost told her I loved her! What in the world?!?! I've said that to the last 50 people I've talked to and it's almost like habit now. So yeah that was strange, not to mention awkward. I snapped out of it quickly, but that's the kind of strange tangent my mind is now capable of going. I usually have a lot of control, so as I said before I'm losing it. I need some sleep.
  On the bright side the hotel we're staying in is really nice. I mean hospital. I've made a decision not to edit this blog so you can see how my brain is working (or not) right now. The HOSPITAL is wonderful. Everybody who comes to visit, before they even say hi to Tanisha they say, "Wow this hospital is beautiful!" or something similar. It's like a resort, really. They have valet parking for goodness sake. Free valet parking. There's a place in the back of the room where they section it off. There's another TV there, a DVD player, microwave and fridge. It's a man cave. Well right now ours is a mom cave because Tanisha's mom is staying here too. But the point is it's really nice. We're so glad we're here. I keep talking about how nice the nurses are but I can't say it enough. We've had 13 different nurses and 6 doctors come in since we've been here and every single one of them has been nice. There's ALWAYS a jerky nurse every time I've been to a hospital. Always. Not here.
  Another story about my brain. With apologies to my wife, I'm sure you all understand that being on bed rest means she can't get out of the bed. The doctors have allowed her to get up for #2, but for #1 she uses a bed pan. She has to keep her bladder as empty as possible because if it's full it puts pressure on her uterus and we can't have that. BUT she also has to hydrate, so as you can imagine she has to go a lot. Well me and her mom usually help her with that, so I'm seeing her use the bedpan literally 20 or so times a day. SO when it's time for me to go, I kind of pace around for a minute. I mean, I know I'm supposed to go to the bathroom, but something doesn't feel right about getting up and going. Then I realize I'm not on bed rest and I don't need or want a bed pan. Hmmm, maybe I'm not losing my mind. Maybe it's gone already. Someone call me and let me know if I actually wrote and posted this blog please.

An idea

(Week 22, day 3)
  I have created a new blog. I will not be posting on it, I only put one post on there. I am going to gather prayers for Aiden from 1000 people. I can't imagine God won't move for us if 1000 people pray so I am asking that you not only go and post a prayer, but that you tell each and every person you know and send them the link as well so they can tell their friends and so on until we reach 1000. Here's the link:
http://bigprayerforlittlefire.blogspot.com
  Well I went back to work today. The most gut-wrenching 8 hours of my life. I hated every minute of it. I didn't want to be away from my wife and my son. However, one thing I've learned is that no matter how horrible the situation is that you're going through, regardless of how you feel, life goes on. So back to work I go. Until Aiden is born, anyway. I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I could get some consistent sleep, but that ain't happening. Practice for when Aiden comes home I suppose.
  The one thing that hasn't changed is Tanisha is still experiencing pain and it still kills me. She can't get up out of bed unless she's using the restroom so her back starts to hurt. Who knew there was such a thing as too much bedtime? Last night I helped her in the restroom and before she walked out and back to her bed she just laid her head on my chest and held onto me. I wanted to hold her for hours. Instead I gently steered her to the bed, but it absolutely killed me. I love my wife so much and I hate to see her in pain, but the great thing about it is she loves her son so much she's not complaining. She's more than happy to lay in the bed and take what comes because it's what's best for our child.
  I made Tanisha mad today. I fussed at her (gently I swear) about eating and she bit my head off. All I could say was, "Ok, you're absolutely right baby." I guess I can be TOO overprotective sometimes. SOME times. Just ask Staci. But I take my role very seriously so I'm not apologetic about it. Well, unless my wife attacks me. Then I always apologize.

Hospital life

(Week 22, Day 2)
  For those of you who have been reading this blog for a while, do you remember when I kept talking about Tanisha's obsession with the due date? I teased her about it, wrote about it several times and pretended like it annoyed me. I even said it wasn't really that important. Boy am I eating my words now. It's so important. Every single day matters. For now we're just relaxing in the hospital. Relaxing is the key for Tanisha. She must relax, stay in bed as much as possible and relax some more. Having contractions could be bad news so the more relaxed she is the better. Did I mention she needs to relax?
  I want to say that I love this hospital, the doctors and every single nurse who has set foot in this room. They are doing everything they know to keep my wife comfortable and, you guessed it, relaxed. It's amazing though how much they know, and how much they don't know. There is so much up in the air right now and as encouraging and informative as everyone has tried to be, it really all boils down to, "We don't know what's going to happen, when it will happen or even why it's happening." This is not because they're not the best at what they do because they are. It just goes to the fact that the human body is such an amazingly complex thing. It may be crazy but them not knowing actually encourages me. It helps remind me that ultimately my faith in Aiden coming into this world and surviving lies in God. I try to picture him. I picture him in the room where the nurses take care of the babies when parents want sleep. I picture holding him. I picture him running around our house. I can see it. It makes me happy and keeps me going every day.
  So here's my life now. I live in a hospital. I sleep on a chair or the most floppy air mattress in history. I wake up when nurses come in, when Tanisha is in pain, when my back is screaming at me, when Tanisha's back is screaming at me, and when I get cold which is often because Tanisha likes sleeping in a freezer. We order the maximum (two entrees per meal) and my wife and I split them. I make sure she's full because Aiden has to eat too. I answer 100 texts and phone calls a day because apparently everybody in the world loves my wife. I'm going to start going back to work tomorrow which will kill me because when left for an hour today my heart was aching. But living in a hospital is more expensive than an apartment so I still need money for the bills, insurances don't pay for everything. I don't watch much TV at all but I watch my wife a LOT. I pray and pray and pray. One thing I don't do is complain. I love being here because it means my son is still safe.

Faith and Prayer

(Week 22, day 1)
  From now on we are keeping track on a daily basis. For those of you who do not already know, Tanisha is already dilated. The sack Aiden is living in has crept out of the cervix and is now semi-exposed. It could stay like it is for weeks, even months. It could break. It could creep back into the womb and the cervix could close. There are so many situations and possibilities we are not going to stress over what could happen. We are now praying for what we want to happen. Since Aiden's lungs are probably not developed at this stage, we need a few more weeks. We want him to stay put, and the water to hold fast for as long as possible. The target date for the absolute earliest where we'll start feeling a little more comfortable is June 16. That's 25 weeks. But for now, it's one day at a time. Every day gives my son more of a chance. Every day is important. We are in one of the best hospitals we could ask for with the best staff. They are taking such good care of my wife. If anyone on this earth can bring Tanisha and Aiden through this, it's the staff here. We are praying that God will guide them all to do exactly what is needed to protect our son. We believe he will make it out into this world alive and will grow and become strong and healthy. What we're asking is for prayer. If you pray, and really even if you don't pray, do it now. Pray that whenever our son comes out, he is developed enough that the nurses and doctors can keep him alive and allow him to grow up. Pray that when he comes out he has no brain damage, no eye or ear damage, no organ damage, and that he develops fully. I will hopefully be able to keep up with writing, but if not it's because I'm taking care of my family the best way I know how. Thank you all for your support and prayer and hopefully I will be able to continue to post with good news updates.

Panic attack

(Week 21, day 6)
  I was just laying (or maybe sitting) down and relaxing. My mind often wanders when I do that. But on this particular day my mind decided to take a turn I wasn't ready for. I don't know if you've ever been thinking about something, and it turns from a thought into more of a vision. I had a vision. It flashed before me with picture-like clarity. I saw Tanisha going into labor. I saw us going to the hospital, and I saw my wife in the delivery room getting ready to push out a child. Then I stopped seeing. It changed to feeling. I felt this tightness in my chest, this squirming in my gut and this spinning in my head. Then it dawned on me, I was having a panic attack. Up to this point I was not worried at all. I had no problem with the thought of Tanisha giving birth. I was comfortable with the idea of being in the delivery room watching my son being born. But now? I'm not so sure. I've never been a panicky kind of guy, but that vision shook me. I'm having flashbacks now while I'm typing, as a matter of fact. Will I be ready? Will I be able to steer my wife through the labor? I'm going to have to be the one who thinks logically and rationally. Can I do that? I used to be sure, now...not so much. I swear if it's not one thing it's the next. I believe down in my heart that I'll be ok, but it seems like there's going to be doubt until the moment of truth. Then we'll see. Or maybe if I faint I won't see anything.
  Ok really quickly I'll tell this story. I'm sure most of you have been waiting with bated breath for another story of me doing something to invoke the wrath of Tanisha. She's been laying low (on purpose) since "watergate". So this isn't anything big, but worth mentioning. I was driving to work the other day when I got a text. It was not a happy text either. It had attitude. I know, you're saying "You can't tell emotion from a text." Well maybe that's true in most cases, but somehow my wife put a whole lot of it in this text. It must be something that comes with her EPP. Apparently I had left the toilet seat down (not just the one you sit on but the cover also). Twice. What's the big deal, you wonder? Well I'll tell you. When a pregnant woman sits down, the intention is almost always to stay there for at least a little while. She has a purpose, because once she's down it's very difficult to get back up. Add with that the pressure of a now approximately 10-ounce human doing his best "So You Think You Can Dance" impression on her bladder, and using the restroom takes on a whole new meaning. So for me to cause her to have to sit down, get RIGHT back up, then sit again made her, how shall I say this? Pissed. That's how. Very very pissed. I have recently found out there are people reading this who are actually being helped out by my writing (yo Steve!) so I gladly share my stories in hopes that others will not suffer the same self-inflicted mistakes I have. All in a day's work for the Father of the Year.

Like sand through the hourglass

(Week 21, day 1)
  Instead of creating one large post (which people have complained about in the past) I'm going to make today into two more bite-sized readings so you can come back later if you need to.
  The other day my wife admitted to me sometimes she goes through periods of wishing she wasn't pregnant anymore. I laughed because I know she wants this child very much but it's a hard process. I have obviously never experienced this much of a pregnancy before. Even when my sister was pregnant I only saw her occasionally. I think the hardest part (well the second hardest part behind the physical toll it takes on a woman's body) is being patient through the entire 9-month process. Speaking of 9 months I must digress for a moment. Whoever came up with the calculation for pregnancy and said it takes 9 months should be shot. It is a 9 and a half to 10 month process. That's a BIG difference. I imagine it will be even bigger the farther along she gets. I mean really, at the 9 month spot we're going to be looking at more weeks like, "Really? There's more to go? For real?" Anyway back to my point. It's not just a process, it's the process of LIFE. Think about it. It's not a cake that may fall a little flat but still be delicious if you take it out early. We need every day so our baby can develop as much as possible. So you don't want to keep thinking, "Hurry up!" but you can't always help it.
  Going through a pregnancy also makes you conscious of what your life is like at the moment. I mean, if you're busy, tired, stressed, short on time, strapped for money, etc. what's it going to be like when you have a whole other person added to your family? I've been trying to do as much planning (mostly financial) as I can to prepare myself and my family but who even knows. One moment I'm ready for the baby to be here, the next I'm questioning myself and my sanity. Am I really ready? Can I do this? Yes! No! I don't know! This is the neurotic mess I've gotten myself into.

Half way there

(Week 21, day 1)
  We've seen the 20 week mark come and go, and things are changing so fast sometimes it's hard to keep up, but at the same time it seems like time is moving in slow motion (didn't I just post yesterday?)
  First I want to say that since finding out we were having a boy we have gotten so many wonderful people offering congratulations, enthusiasm and help. I want to thank you all for that. I have also found out there are a lot more people reading my blog than I thought. I want to thank those people too, but also say to you who are anonymously reading, "CLICK THE FOLLOW ME!"
  That being said, let's get to the good stuff. A week ago Tanisha had her 20-week appointment and we found out from her doctor that, get this, the original conception date is right on! Does that mean no more fretting over how far along she is? More to come on that in future posts I'm sure. We also found out that Aiden (previously known as Baby Cohen) is now in the 85th percentile when it comes to how big he is. So not only did he not "even out" like the doctor suggested since the last measurement, but he's gained 10%. As you can imagine Tanisha is not happy about this. Apparently my mom had a discussion with my wife about my size when I was born. She said I was big when I was born and somehow that translated into Tanisha's mind that I was a 10 pound baby (I just called my mom, the official measurements on this were 8 lbs, 3 ounces). So we have officially moved out of "how old is my baby really" mode to "how big is my baby going to get" mode.
  Unfortunately this isn't just funny worry. While some of it is, mostly it is a real concern because the bigger the baby gets, the bigger and heavier my wife gets and that is causing her pain. Also as mentioned in a previous post, it will not be fun for her to push out an above average child. It's funny because when you talk to people about this they say, "Well as long as the baby is healthy, right?" Yeah how about you say that while you're trying to push a human being that is 40% bigger than average out of your body?!? I didn't think so.

The ring test rules!

(Week 19, Day 1)
  I'm still flying high with the news that we're having a boy. I told just about everybody in creation. I know some great people, we have gotten a ton of positive responses. I got over 20 texts after I sent out the news so I thought I'd share them. Here they are in no particular order, typed exactly as I received them:
"Congratulations!!!! I'm sure ur thrilled :)"
"pmg! Congratulations! What is the name? Aint God good?" (I'm positive they meant 'omg')
"Congrats...... Lil josh jr"
"Congrats!!!, I hope he's a red head to match his cousin, lol"
"Congrats"
"whoooohooooo!"
"Sweet action bittles"
"Congratulations!"
"Congrats!!!! Who is this? lol!"
"WOW!!!! Congrats dad, im very happy for you both."
"CONGRATS!"
"Congratulations!!!! I'm so excited for you!!"
"I told u"
"My man!!!! Thats whats up fo real!!!!! CONGRATS!!!!"
"Kick ass! That's awesome. Congrats"
"Congrats!"
"Congrats my love! I get a beautiful nephew!!"
"Great!"
"Sweet action! Congratulations!"
"Yes! Evan has a play mate!!!!0"
"Whooooo hoooooo!!!! Joshie Jr?!!!!!!"
"Yes. got the email"
"I knew it! I'm so happy for you! I have boy clothes and diapers if you want them, they're urs! YAAAAAAAAAAY!"
"Redbox free rental code:" Oh wait that wasn't one of them.
  So as you see there has been an outpouring of congratulations and excitement, which pumps me up even more. Now for the first time I feel myself ever so slightly wanting the baby to get here. I know I talked about enjoying the moment for what it was, but that feeling is there and it's real. I will not let it overwhelm me because then I'll start getting impatient and the time will DRAG. But, there's a part of me now that's ready for my son to be borned. Yes I said borned.
  I'm not sure if I've talked much about our house, but we will be moving into a brand new house in November. We wanted to be there before Baby Cohen was born, but this is how it worked out so we're not complaining. The reason I bring that up is because we will have a room just for the baby. Tanisha has already had dreams about what it will look like and has all but decorated the whole room. Now that we know for sure it's a boy she's got it all down from the colors to the furniture the the wainscoting. Yup, wainscoting. It's going to be awesome. Of course, we will also be outfitting Staci with a whole new room. She's growing up and needs something distinctly her style so she will be getting just as hooked up as her brother, if not more. Luckily for our children we are spoilers because they will be the only rooms in the house to get new furniture right away. The man cave will just have to wait, sigh...
  Ok so let me talk about the ultrasound. If you remember from the last one, Baby Cohen wasn't trying to give up the goods. This scan wasn't for finding out the gender, it was to measure the baby's body and make sure the head, heart, bones and everything else was the right size and shape. The nurse was taking her time, which was great because we got a good look at each part of his body. Then all of a sudden, there it was (picture 1). This little thing sticking out into space. Even though I believed it was a boy (I mean the ring test doesn't lie) just knowing for sure was this great feeling. We were in a doctor's office so I couldn't jump up and down and yell, but I did smile really big. I just smiled at my wife and my daughter. We were all laughing and smiling. It was truly a great feeling. The nurse continued to analyze and measure as we were basking in the great news. She was looking at his torso and heart, then out of nowhere he did a little flip and BAM there it was again (picture 2). Obviously my son isn't shy. I think he was thinking, "What are you looking at all that other stuff for? Isn't this what you came for?" Yes my son, yes it is.
  I'd be remiss if I didn't mention one more topic before I finish. We've decided on a name. So from now on Baby Cohen is no more and this is probably the last post you'll see that. Instead, I would like to introduce my readers, the World, and the World Wide Web to my son Aiden Lucas Cohen!

And in case you weren't sure by the first picture:

 

(Week 18, Day 5)
IT'S A BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

G-Day

(Week 18, Day 4)
  Wow, I just wrote the week and I cannot believe we're already at 18. It seems like we've come so far, but we've still got quite a ways to go. It's all so amazing to me. Tanisha's brother Kevin was asking me if every now and then it just hits me, "I'm having a baby." Yes it does. I still get this excited feeling in my stomach (nothing like the feelings in my wife's stomach I'd bet) when it hits me what's happening. I've said it before, I am so excited about this child.
  Just a quick note, I just found out how to notify people when I submit a new post. Unfortunately for some stupid reason Google has only seen fit to be able to notify 10 people, so I had to start out with the closest family. For all my other readers I will work on putting together something that will notify everybody. To the chosen 10, please email me and let me know if received a notification please!
  Now on to the subject of the week. Tomorrow is attempt number two for us to find out if we're having a boy or a girl, or G-day as I've dubbed it (g=gender for those of you having a little trouble). This time we're going to the geneticist, whom I've mentioned before. Due to Staci's PFFD, they are going to measure Baby Cohen's bones to make sure they are a normal size. Their equipment is much more detailed so there is a very good chance we will be able to see the gender. There are so many people waiting to hear this news, many of them excited about the prospect of pre-birth shopping. We have already began to pick out colors for the baby's room. It's funny because as much as we are wondering what the baby is, it seems like we've already decided we know. If we're having a girl that will really throw us off for a day or two, but I know we'll recover from that and get right back into planning mode.
  Today Tanisha and I had another conversation about her conception date, unbelievable as that may be. She even had me unsure for a moment. We came to the conclusion (again) that the doctors are probably pretty accurate, but something tells me we'll have this conversation yet again sometime soon. I just like talking about the baby so however many times it takes, I'm fine with it. I love talking about my baby. I find ways to work my wife being pregnant into conversations so I can talk about it. I'm a little obsessed, but then if I wasn't I probably wouldn't be writing a blog now would I?

Close calls

(Week 17, day 6)
  A couple of days ago Tanisha woke up in what I could tell was a bad mood. She just didn't feel right, she wasn't happy, and it was obvious she was on edge. I want to give her credit. I want to say that she didn't want to snap on me or Staci because it would make her feel bad. I want to say she was considering us so she tried to just sort through her feelings without saying much. I want to say all that. The truth is, I don't believe it. I think she was just holding her tongue so that morning didn't end up as another blog post. Either way I had a peaceful morning. (Whew!)

  I started a new job today. I decided a little over a month ago it was time to make more money. I had been holding out at my old job for a while to see if, despite what everyone was saying, I could create some movement for myself by being the best at what I did. I came close, but in the end there wasn't much room for me. As a matter of fact the company was mostly downsizing so any spots that came up were going to people who had many years with the company and would otherwise be laid off. So I decided it was time for a change. Now I'm at a growing company that has a lot of room to advance. More importantly I'm getting paid a lot more money. Once we found out we were having a baby my wife and I made a firm decision we had to get a house. We were already looking, but this just solidified now was the time. So to pay for that new house, and of course new baby, I gave myself a promotion. The catch with this is, however, my wife works there also. I know what you're saying. "You're going to work with your wife? You do remember she threw cold water on you in the bed, don't you?" Well in response to that I have to say, "Can't you ever let her live that down? No? Me neither."

  I'm hurt that I only got 3 votes on this last poll. That tells me my readers want less. And here I was thinking you couldn't get enough of me. Well I guess I finally have to admit, the world doesn't actually revolve around me. But this blog does, so I still got that. Anyway back to the pregnancy. I talked before about our paranoia. Well my wife has a new obsession: conception date. As I mentioned after our last ultrasound, Baby Cohen is in the 76th percentile for size at this stage. It shows, and Tanisha is concerned about that. When she tells people she's 4 months, they always say, "Four months?!" in disbelief. STOP SAYING THAT PEOPLE, YOU'RE GIVING HER A COMPLEX!
  So as a result of that she thinks the doctors may be wrong about when the conception was. Never mind we've gone through the calculations from her last cycle in December and know that it would be virtually impossible to be anything more that a week's difference. She catches me off guard with it each time. She'll start out the conversation as if it's going to be this new and interesting topic. "So I've been thinking," she'll say. And then I'll devote my entire attention to her, rapt with anticipation about what's been on her mind. Then she will break out with something like, "What if they're wrong about how old the baby is" or, "My last cycle in December was the 22nd, right?" Yes, just like it was the last 15 times we talked about it sweetheart. I don't get annoyed, I'm just wondering when she's really going to settle into the fact that her child is large. But I really try to be understanding because the root of all this is she thinks she's going to end up giving birth to a 10-pound baby. She really, really doesn't want to have a 10-pound baby. I can't say I blame her. Gigantor is funny now, but it won't be so much in week 39.

Reality

(Week 17, day 1)
  HOLY CRAP!!! I had to watch my niece Brielle today. All day. All by myself. She's only 4 months old (she was born a day or two before Baby Cohen was conceived) so this was my first dose of what it's going to be like. As I so eloquently put it, HOLY CRAP! I don't know what else to say. It was quite a challenge. The last time she was here my wife was here, and she was in a great mood. Today, not so much. And to top it all off Staci stayed home from school because she's not fully recovered from her surgery. She can't really move around by herself that well, but at least she can entertain herself. Brielle was not so easy. She doesn't really like being held that much, but she doesn't really like to lay down either (too much like sleep time which she also doesn't like). Speaking of not liking, let me tell you something that you may or may not know. There are two things that babies really like. It sounds simple and easy but even though you know, you don't really KNOW until you experience it. Those two things are eating, and dry diapers. Trust me on this, they love them.
  So while this wasn't a complete immersion in the life of having a baby, it was a nice inside view on what I have in store for myself. When I first found out we were having a baby I started to work out so I would have energy when the baby was born. That fell off a bit, but I've increased my physical activity in recent weeks and after today I am serious about getting back to working on a healthy body because I am going to need every bit of energy I can gather.