BaSO4

Tomorrow we poison the baby. Then, the radiation.

Have I ever told you about the time my old friend Jay nearly died? We were at Perkins with a group and Jay took a drink of soda while talking or laughing and choked. This was not the typical sputtering and gagging that we all encounter when something "goes down the wrong pipe." Jay stopped breathing. You've probably been around someone when this happens: they gag and try to swallow, being casual, not making a big deal. A worried look comes over them and they try harder to clear the problem by flexing and expanding the throat muscles. People stop talking and exchange concerned looks. Someone might make a joke to gauge the seriousness of the situation. A straight question would be more appropriate but few of us have been in this situation often enough to think clearly. Panic overtakes the victim, who stands and tries anything to begin breathing. Everyone else is up, wondering if they can live up to this moment--do what is required. With Jay, we were at the point of getting up and clearing space around him in case the heimlich would need to be done, when suddenly, spontaniously, he began to breath again. I had no idea that a person could choke so severely on a liquid. It was terrifying.

Something like this happens to Simon a couple of times almost everyday.

So, he is going to a "Barium Swallow" tomorrow.

Wikipedia says:

[He] will swallow a suspension of fine particles of Barium Sulfate in an aqueous solution with sweetening agents added. Then, we'll X-ray his esophagus. The suspension appears white on the x-rays, and outlines the internal lining of the esophagus.

and

Barium sulfate is the white crystalline solid with the formula BaSO4. It is very insoluble in water and other potential solvents. The mineral barite is composed largely of barium sulfate and is a common ore of barium.

and

Although barium is a heavy metal, and its water soluble compounds are often highly toxic, the extremely low solubility of barium sulfate protects the patient from absorbing harmful amounts of the metal. Barium sulfate is also readily removed from the body.

The compound works due to barium's relatively high atomic number (Z = 56), since large nuclei absorb X-rays much better than smaller nuclei.

It doesn't sound too traumatic. I'm not sure how they will do the X-ray. Ideally we would wait for him to fall asleep in order to hold still enough, but I don't know how much time we'll have after the swallow.

I also don't know what they are looking for or what they will be able to do when they find it.

As a matter of fact, if it were not for Wikipedia, I wouldn't know squat--a sad state of affairs indeed.

Of course, I'll completely forget to post an update after this is over to let you know how it went, so just imagine the best.

Later, Perkins fans

influencial

This very blog is #18 out of 147 returns in a Google search for "amloidosis."

It is also #20 out of 145,000 returns for "worms in raisins."

toddlers tumbling--duh

Tonight, David and I paid five bucks to hang out with about 20 other toddlers in a big room with springy floors covered in inches of foam. A room full of padded ramps and things to bounce on and climb over and and and

wow.

They had a big inflated runway for toddlers to bounce down over and over and over and over and over. Remember the parachutes we had in gym in grade school? They had one of those!

For me, the most interesting thing was watching David try to grasp a new skill--paying attention to a teacher in a group setting. It's hard enough to get him to listen to me when we are the only people in the room, he is inches from my face, and I am bellowing. In a room full of two-year olds, some lady is trying to make herself heard and he is supposed to pay attention? Read the instructions for setting the clock on your VCR to a room full of cats and see what happens.

Fortunately, we, the parents were present to keep things moving along:

Ok, she said walk sideways, David, no this way, see how she's doing it, wait, ok, she said go the other way, no, wait come back--no, sidew--oh wait, now we are--come back, no--now we are jumping, we are jumping backwards, I think, now wait watch like this--no, stop--come back wait, ok, 1, 2, 3, jum--oh wait, now we are running--follow that little girl--woops! don't step on her! just go around, follow that one with her mommy--

My main reason for going is that I really want David to meet and interact with others his own age. Maybe form some friendships so that he can have a social life that we don't have to pay five bucks for. Problem is that, like paying attention to the teacher, striking up friendships with strangers in a group situation is not a skill he was born with. This is where I come in. This is where I come in and stand uncomfortably in the corner looking at the floor. If memory serves, the last time I tried to introduce myself to strangers, they laughed at me from their tree house, so that is not something I'm best qualified to teach the boy. Fortunately, we have the five bucks.

I think we'll have to bring mom along sometime. She is one of those people that talks to people in line at the store and chats with the cashier. I went to Wal-Mart yesterday and the credit card swiper displayed the question, "Did your cashier greet you? Yes, No, Ignore" There was no option for "No, thank goodness, I was spared small talk with someone who, when distracted, will bag five pounds of potatoes on top of my eggs." Jaime wouldn't have waited for the cashier to greet her, she would greet him. And, in tumbling, she would have had David a play date with the cutest two-year-old girl in the room by the time we left.

But we'll be going back. I think David has Olympic somersault potential.

later, cat fans

a nearly proverbial suffering almost unlike any other

David loves sticks. With the high value he puts on them, you would not think they grew on trees. He picks them up, he uses them as guns (don't ask) and fishing poles (I don't know). He insists that you have some. When we go for a walk, he wants to stop and gather every stick we cross. He'll ask me to carry his trike so that he can walk and gather sticks.

He loves to take big heavy sticks and fling them carelessly up into the sky.

If you don't see where this is going, you are as naive as he is was.

I've watched him do this, the stick flinging, and I've thought to myself that he is asking for trouble, but I have not thought of any way to adequately explain the physics of a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. So, I figure the worst that can happen is a scratched cornea. Corneas heal. And if it doesn't, well, so he won't be a fighter pilot.

Sure enough he comes in the house tonight all crying and moaning and bleeding out of his eye and wah wah wah.

In fact, he was smart enough to close the eye as the stick approached and just scratched his eye lid. Nothing poetic or eternal about a poke in the eye lid with a sharp stick, and I am sure that there are plenty of things worse, so we let him go back out and try for something a more literary.

later metaphorical fans

vbd

Val, Bas, and Dar came by last evening (eventually) for some barely-controlled chaos. Regrettably, Ed had to work (killer fact: every member of this family actually has a polysylabic name!) David was thrilled to be host to the boys. Loudly thrilled.

First, stair games. This began with David asking "do you want to see my room?" But their cumulative attention span is simply not adequate for such a tour. Bas and Dar (B&D, for short) live in a vertically-challenged environment, so our flight of steps is a delightfully distracting treat for them. The primary activity was to sit on a step, slide to the edge, and drop down to the next step over-and-over, giggling squealing with each thud. This is something that can only be done by the diapered. I think if I were to try this, I would have to use a donut to sit for the rest of my life--even with the ample padding in that area I got for my 30th birthday.

Stair time led into squealing time, which was followed by pulling out every toy David owns for experiments in "sharing." "Sharing" was defined by David as grabbing a toy out of someone's hands and declaring that the original possessor is now sharing. This a similar concept to Lenin, Mao, and Bush defining "Liberating" as the use of force against the liberated.

We also witnessed the Great Circle of Imitation. B&D (BD, for short) watch David and imitate him, David also watches them and imitates. So, I had to give David very clear instructions not to jump from the third step up and they were not in the house for five minutes before David started using their 23-month-old verbiage.

It was great fun. The three toddlers are now old enough to really interact despite a six-month age difference. They have also been around each other enough not to be shy. Three non-shy toddler boys in a small room together full of toys--it was like being inside a tin of Jiffy Pop. I can't wait until they can play together again!

later bas and dar fans (BDF, for short)

here thar be asphalt

At the edge of the park behind our home is an asphalt area with basketball hoops, some broken-down pic-nic tables, and tennis courts. It is an area of crooked railroad ties, cragged asphalt, and the occasional broken bottle. Metaphorically is the chaos lurking around the edge of our play area of orderliness. It is the edges of our map beyond which lie dragons where no one under 36 inches should venture for fear of life and limb. It is the unknown regions of the world, nay, of existence.

David loves it over there. He likes walking along ties, leaping down the steps, examining rocks, etc.

Well, today, our little Captain Cook got bit by the dragons--a stumble on the steps and a face plant on the asphalt, his first true sacrifice to his spirit of adventure.

Update: I totally forgot to tell you the rest of the story.

So, he comes back home with grandma Susie bloodied and crying and we get him cleaned up. He immediately wants to return to the scene of the accident and give the offending steps a good scolding, which they do.

When he returns, I fix him lunch. He has, or rather had, this habit of putting chunks of food in his mouth that are entirely too large to manage. This, combined with a gag reflex that is as delicate as a codependent's sense of self-respect, makes for explosive family fun. He attempts to swallow a piece of grilled-cheese sandwich the size of his fist, gags, and barfs on himself.

So his clothes are now stained with blood and vomit and I think to myself, "we could take him down by the university and lay him on the lawn of one of the fraternities. They would surely mistake him for one of their own, take him in, and raise him."

later, frat fans.

from st francis

from st francis, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

Simon's first home page

Here is the official hospital page for Simon. Click on "August," then on "Simon Jonathan . . ."

simon david

So, how is David adjusting to Simon so far?

For the most part, he behaves as he always has, but the context has changed, creating some problems. He is used to being the one that is the center of attention and he still demands the attention that he has normally gotten--but he isn't getting it. Instead, he is getting on our nerves as we try to take care of the baby, talk about the baby, sleep with the baby, etc. The same is true with attention from his mom. I can't say that he has been more demanding of her per se, but she doesn't have the normal amount to give that he is used to getting.

So, how is he responding to that diminished attention? Well, he is not showing jealously or resentment yet. He simply persistently demands more until we get irritated with him. So, he's getting called down a lot more often for simply trying to maintain the status quo.

There is some unfortunate timing with his normal 2.5-year-old behavior conflicting with parents-on-the-edge. Being stubborn and contrary would be fine if we had all of our energy to cope with it. The zig-zag pattern of a new-born is lovely, as is the criss-cross pattern of a toddler. But they don't go well together in the same room--the drapes don't match the curtains--if you will. Something to get used to.

But it's no worse than that--not for us, anyway. David is still exceptionally well-behaved and seems to be coping ok. I try to remember to take time to focus just on him, which is pretty easy since Simon only sleeps and eats. Grandma Susie is here to provide a buffer and take up some slack with things like household chores. So far, nothing adequately dramatic to report.

Plenty of uber-cuteness, though. Every time Simon cries, David rushes to him and squeaks "it's ok, it's ok." When he is not crying, David is still squeaky, "ahhhh, hey little guy, hey there, hey little guy," patting and fawning. It amazes us how big David seems next to his brother. It really drives home how much David has grown; we can hardly imagine that he was so tiny (were it not for a well-illustrated blog accounting for every step of his growth).

The two of them together are a delight, but a rare event. Simon is generally eating or sleeping and David is either demonstrating the latest height from which he can jump or falling off his tricycle. I hope that I can get them together soon for a photo shoot.

I promise I'll share.

Later, zig-zag fans.

simon

Simon, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

Ladies and Gentlemens:

Simon Jonathan Gilbert.

Born, August 31, 2006, 12:28 am
Weight: 7 lb 15 oz
Length: 20 in
APGAR: 9

simon david

Simon David, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

he's here!

Simon Jonathan has arrived! 7 pounds, 15 ounces, 20 inches, APGAR-9, hair? Yes! Black. And, of course, he is beautiful.

It was sort of non-climactic. Compared to David--much easier on all fronts.

We came into the hospital Wednesday morning, for the scheduled induction. As planned, they started slowly. As feared, not much happened. I even went home and did some work mid-morning. Around 4:00, Dr. Wiley came in and I figured that he would just send us home pregnant.

Instead, he ruptured the membranes. This kind of frustrated me. As previously mentioned, he said that they would apply a modest effort to see if things would kick in naturally. Now, without discussion or preamble, he breaks the waters, committing us to a birthing within 24 hours. We had gone through this with David--a lengthy process of agressive drugs forcing the issue.

From there, everything progressed normally, until, at midnight, Jaime was pronounced ready to birth a baby. Skylar had been with us most of the day and was planning on attending the birth, but by 11:30 she was tired. She went home, leaving instructions for us to call her when something happened. So, thirty minutes later, I summonsed her back. She nearly missed it. By the time she came in, everything was prepared and Jaime was pushing. Grandma Suzie was also part of the team this time. Not quite 30 minutes of pushing and he came out without a hitch and with very little tearing.

Jaime used the same pain meds that she used with David, but less of it, so she was able to feel much more the experience.

This morning a nurse ran in to our room, waking us up and asking us where he is. We didn't have him. They had taken him for a bath sometime in the night and we fell sound asleep, so they kept him. Seeing we didn't have him, the nurse ran back out. She returned a few minutes later to assure us that they had found him. Appearantly the security device had fallen off of his ankle, setting off the alarm. The security device has a unique code that matches bracelets we are wearing. It is the primary way that we identify what baby belongs to whom. So now, we'll never be absolutely sure that he is ours until a decade from now when routine bloodtests after a skate boarding accidents reveal a shocking secret that leads to a 20/20 special investigation.

ready to roll

Well, in spite of some days with long periods of regular, but light contractions, and some days with heavy, but irregular, contractions, no baby has arrived.

sigh

So, tomorrow morning we are off for an inducin'. We'll arrive to the hospital around 7:00 and start things going. So, I don't expect to sleep a lot tonight, which is why I am blogging at 11:00.

The feeling is somewhere between the excitement you feel the night before going to Disney World and the foreboding you feel the night before . . . well, before you'll submit your wife to one of the most physically painful experiences she'll ever have.

Grandma Suzie is here and pretty excited to be able to participate this time. Everyone is on high alert, waiting for the phone call, which you already know, because you are pretty much everyone.

So, here we go, perched at the top of the roller coaster after a long nerve-wracking tug up the hill. Ready to roll.

later, Disney fans

our best-laid plan

OK, we have a plan, which is a great relief.

Jaime and I have been torn between waiting until spontaneous labor and going completely batso insane. The litany of fears basically boils down to "in another week, this child will spring, fully grown (and armored) from my forehead." You may recall that David got stuck and we had a few scary moments because of that. This is not an indicator that the same thing could happen again, but the specter is ever-present cloud over our desire for a natural childbirth.

We met with the OB today to discuss the issue in a more rational, less metaphorically soupy way. On one hand, he is willing to induce Jaime when ever she feels like it at this point. On the other, both she and the baby are healthy and he is happy to let the pregnancy go until September 7. He has very little advice to offer otherwise. I wish I could get paid so much for so little.

But he did have this: in a study, 328 near-term pregnant women who have previously had a child were asked to guess the weight of their baby. Then, the OB did his exam and made a guess as to the weight and the women were given a sonogram and the weight was determined from that. On average, the doctors' guesses were off by 1.5 pounds plus/minus, the sonograms were off by 1 pound, and the mothers' guesses off by .5 pounds. Our doctor used this to illustrate where the decision for the next step ultimately lies. He could examine and guess and make a recommendation, but it is less likely to be as accurate as what Jaime thinks. If she thinks it is getting too big and wants to go ahead an induce, then that is what he'll do.

Another fact I didn't know: inducing doesn't always work. They'll give it a try for about a day--less, if the weather is good for golfing--but if the mother and baby are honestly not ready, then it won't work and the woman will go home as pregnant as when she arrived--but more batso insane. That helped me. David was induced because Jaime's water broke. It was an unpleasant and drawn-out process. But in that case, they wanted the baby to come before the risk of infection developed from the ruptured membranes. So they were much more aggressive than they are with a voluntary induction. I am relieved to know that induction is actually a good try to get things started--not an attempt to artificially force the issue.

Lastly, Grandma Susie is coming next week. She'll be here for several weeks.

So, this is the "plan." Our OB is on call for deliveries tomorrow, this weekend, and next Wednesday. The plan is that we'll wait one more week. If we don't have spontaneous labor or a nervous breakdown by Wednesday--which is the day before the "due date," then we'll induce and Grandma Susie will get to be there, which wasn't possible with David.

Why are we relieved to have a plan? Because it allows us to stop thinking about it and relax. That, combined with our decision to wait until Grandma Susie can be with us, will cause the immediate onset of labor, which is what we are counting on.

So, mark your calendars. Sometime in the next eight days we are goin' to the hospital to have a baby or give it our best effort.

Later, batso insane fans.

37-weeks

Jaime emailed me.

Well the good news is that I am dilated to a 2 and Simon is head down.

The bad news is that Wiley said he would not let me go past my due date of "September 7th". I almost wanted to die.

In a passive-aggressive attempt to get him to think about going earlier, I asked him to compare my current size to that of David at 36 weeks.

I am dilated which I don't think I was at that time, I weigh almost 10 pounds more, and Simon measures 3cm bigger than David did. And after all that he still won't let me go past September, oh lucky me.

Wiley asked if he was moving ok and I said the movements have seemed to slow down a bit so he ordered a stress test. Simon is fine and moves like a champ, I even had two mild contractions during the test. The nurse was really nice and talked to me for a bit after it was done. She said the August 31st (according to the sono) was probably the most accurate date and to give it until this weekend when I hit 38 weeks.

I still feel like crying, which I am getting sick of but I will try to remain patient.

david & the tummy

david & the tummy, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

restin

restin, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

david & the tummy 2

david & the tummy 2, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

wedding

wedding, originally uploaded by jandjgilbert.

Here we have a rare shot of David watching TV in his underwear. And who is that hansom couple on the screen? Tomorrow's Hollywood superstars? Nope that is Uncle Grant and the now-officially-Aunt Tina recently married in Seattle. Jaime couldn't attend because she is knocked up so she is just outside the frame, crying.

Congratulations from the Gilbert family to the newly-weds. We wish more than anything we could have been there--well, more than anything but giving birth in the isle of a 737.

hurrying up, waiting

Well, we are disappointed to have no real news yet. When Jaime lost her plug Monday, we were pretty excited. Yes, one can unplug as much as three weeks prior to the birth, but with David that was only five days and the second is supposed to come faster, right? Additionally, Jaime was showing several other signs of a pending birth. So, we have been preparing for a birthin' this weekend. Alas, no. Not only is there baby yet, but most of the symptoms have subsided.

We went to the mall today for a long walk--because that is supposed to help. Sure enough, while walking through Dillards, Jaime had a pretty significant contraction--the first in 24 hours. It maintained while walking and while not walking whereas false labor generally subsides when you change modes. So, we were stoked. But it subsided and nothing followed. Jaime is convinced that it has something to do with Dillards.

We were trying to remember details from David, but are not recalling much. I didn't record enough information. For instance, there is a scale from -5 to +5 that tracks the baby's progress. -5 is just starting, not even in the birth canal yet, and +5 is crowning. The baby is -2. I don't remember where David was when, so I can't compare. Jaime is partially, but not fully, effaced. Again, I don't remember when David met this milestone.

I do, however, remember that, when Jaime's water broke with David, I was surprised--even a little incredulous. I recall thinking that there had been no accompanying signs, perhaps she is mistaken. I was prepared to take Jaime to the hospital in labor, but that didn't happen, we had to induce the actual labor. So, this one could take us by surprise as well.

Nevertheless, we wait. It is hard, especially for Jaime. I am trying to get us in the mindset of abandoning the idea that it will come this week. Let's just assume that it will come next week. That way, if it comes earlier, great. But, if it does not, then we'll at least get out of this craziness of planning to be at the hospital sometime in the next 24 hours. It is an impossible level of hyper-readiness. I am cramming as much work in to every day in preparation for leaving at a moment's notice and I am putting off any project that will take more than 24 hours to execute.

So, we hope it will come sooner, but are trying to resign ourselves to it coming later. Or later still.

Later, fans.