Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

It may come as no surprise that we are not sending Christmas cards this year as we have been a bit busy the past five weeks.  That doesn't mean that I can't fire off a holiday missive, or a double negative!  Veterans of this Christmas letter know that I go through the year in excruciating detail, so to the letter!
We ushered in the new year at a hotel in downtown St. Paul.  It was so cold on New Year's Day that it was painful.  Then less than three weeks later, we were in Austin for a KU-UT basketball game and it was in the high 70s and sunny.  This is when Anders' love for the University of Texas was born.  A couple weeks later, we returned to the Hill Country for Anders' Christmas present, a trip to Sea World in San Antonio.

February was also a sad month as Anna's beloved grandma, Joyce Vivian (Ytterboe) Lokken, passed away after a long illness.  She flew back for the funeral.  We found out around that time that Anna's grandpa, Dennis Arthur Lokken, had terminal cancer.  We had hoped to drive up in March and see him during Spring Break, but Anders got sick and a blizzard swept across Minnesota.

Brad made his yearly trip down in April.  Anders and I took him to Galveston for some island fun, then on the way back we got caught in some Nightly News Flooding, flooding so bad that the areas through which we drove ended up on the nightly news.  The Chapel Guild chose me in April to be the speaker for Faculty Chapel.  The Class of '13 then chose me in May to be their Baccalaureate speaker.  St. John's gave me an endowed chair in history in May as well, but I could not be at the banquet to enjoy receiving this honor as I was home proving that one does not die if one's stomach and bowel are evacuating their contents at the same time!  Yes, the stomach flu swept through the Peterson home on Mother's Day weekend.  Anders kept a running tally of the hurling, 11 times between the 3 of us if you are interested.  Also in May our landlord kicked us out, but we found a better place to live so it was another blessing in disguise.

The cancer moved quickly and took Dennis at the end of May.  All three of us flew up for the funeral in June.  I booked a day later because I wasn't sure if I could miss the AP reading without owing them money for a plane ticket, but I found out I was off the hook, so I booked the next day.  We departed on a Saturday, driving up to Bush Airport to catch our flight.  Anna and Anders got through security, but the TSA agent would not let me through.  I couldn't believe it.  I have a remarkably easy time with security lines.  Anna's the one who always gets waylaid, probably because she looks like a Democrat.  The agent told me I could not proceed because me ticket was for Hobby Airport not Bush Airport!  Not being used to living in a place that has two airports, and in a hurry to book, I did not notice which airport, I just tried to make sure I was on the same airline as them, American, which might be the only airline that flies into both airports.  I muttered a few words to Anna and then sprinted in the other direction.  I found a cab to Hobby, hopped the plane, then was reunited with my family four hours later in Dallas at which point we got on the same flight.  For the way back, I used Anders to charm the gate agent so that we could all be on the same flight home to Houston.

The funeral was lovely.  It's impressive when a funeral for an 85 year old can fill a church to the point that it's bursting.  Anders was great.  Anna explained to him that everyone would be sad and that it was his job to cheer them up.  He grabbed his grandma Dorene's hand unprompted and escorted her to the front of the church with the family.  There were Lions, and teachers, and Norwegians, and the living members of one of the first basketball teams he coached almost 60 years ago!  We even saw a guy who looked just like Dennis, it was like seeing a ghost...  eerie.
 
I took a group of students to Eastern Europe in the middle of June then we returned home at the end of June for our usual month plus stay.  We visited my family in Kansas, my mom in Iowa, and Anna's parents in Minnesota.  Anna and I made our yearly trip to Grand Marais, MN for the three best days of summer.  I attended my 15 year class reunion and Nordic Dancers' reunion as well as a wedding in June of a friend from high school that had so many former classmates that it was more like the class reunion than was the official one.

Somehow during our horrible May, Anna managed to get pregnant, which we discovered in July.  We then headed back down to Texas in August to prepare.  We joked about having another preemie, but we took many precautions against it.  Anna visited a high risk OBGYN during the late summer and fall along with her regular doctor.  We learned in September that we were having a boy, which Anders had predicted.  Anders wanted to name him Anaranjado, Spanish for "orange," Anders' favorite color.

So Anna began another year at Armstrong Elementary, I at St. John's, Anders at Kids R Kids, and we waited.  Anders was moved up from pre-K to Kindergarten because he reads and does a lot of math.  It's been a good lesson in maturity, with low stakes--Anders calls it "Kindergarten" because it's kinda like kindergarten or kinda-garten.  Anders also began Sunday School this fall, and briefly joined the children's choir until it conflicted with nap time on Sunday afternoon.  We officially joined St. Martin's Lutheran Church in Sugar Land.  They have been great to us over these past five weeks.

We also had a last hurrah little vacation to the Hill Country in September.  We managed to time it on the only cool September weekend I remember in our three years in Texas.  We visited Austin where Anders and I attended the K-State v. UT football game while Anna relaxed.  Then the next day we drove down to Sea World to get more use out of our season pass.

October brought cooler weather and Anders' Halloween costume as "Jack-o-Letters," a jackolantern of letters.  Greg and Dorene flew down to watch Anders trick or treat.  Little did they know that they'd be returning so soon.

Then November 18th came...I can see why Garfield hates Mondays.  Anna left school around 1 pm with "indigestion."  She did not really believe it was indigestion, but she also did not think it could be happening again.  I finished messing with Texas aka teaching the Texas Revolution my way, when I checked my phone, which I don't usually do right after class.  When I heard how calm Anna was in her message, I knew something was really wrong.  I remember leaving school that day, walked toward the bus stop, wondering when I would return and in what state I would return.  The rest of it you can read about in greater detail on this blog, I've rambled enough.

The last five weeks have been a blessing in disguise.  We have seen the kindness and generosity of our friends, colleagues, and church over that time.  We have also been shown the love of our visiting family.  Henrik Arthur has been a steady traveler, so much so that he was transferred two days ago to a less intense, closer NICU, with free parking!  While we feel loved and cared for, there will be no Magnus Olaf Peterson because he would be born at 24 weeks 2 days, and weigh 1 lb 3 1/2 oz.  We are retired from childbirth and further children.  Our family of four (plus Trudy Goodshoes) is set.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from Anna and the Peterson Boys: Anders, Henrik, and Jon.

SXSW

I don't know how many absence forms I've signed for students who were planning to attend the South By Southwest music festival in Austin, which is actually North by Northwest from us in Houston.  The process has begun to move Henrik to a hospital much closer to us and also much less busy--Memorial Hermann Southwest.  We hope Henrik will be transferred by the end of next week.  This move is big for us since on January 6 both of us will be back to work for the first time since Henrik was born.  It's about 11 miles from our house rather than 21 miles, and there are not 10 hospitals, a major university, the prime city park, and two former Superbowl sites all within spitting distance.  We'll have only one traffic bottle neck to get through rather than 3-4 bottlenecks.
Anna held Henrik today.  His weight was up to 2lbs. 6 oz, so for the first time, Henrik weighs more than did Anders when he was born.  Henrik is now eating 20 mils.  His breathing is still going well, and he has gained weight for two straight days.  We continually remark about how much more mellow this time in the NICU is than was last time.  Don't get me wrong, it's still an intensive care unit, but it's all just more routine this time.
Anders lost treats yesterday because he was not well behaved, but he has done much better today thus far, and he earned back his treats.  He also napped today for over two hours.  Anders has also expanded the size of the fake school that he attends with his stuffed animals.  Some animals have "student" names, and names that come from stories that he reads, so those stuffed animals have two names.  It's very confusing to keep everyone straight!
Speaking of animals, Trudy gave us quite a scare this morning.  We were already up at 5:45 since the CEO of our house, Anders, was awake and not respecting the rule that we sleep until 7 am on the weekends.  I was up with Anders having breakfast, while Anna was trying to get some more winks when we heard the most ungodly whine coming from outside.  Anna bolted out of bed and ran into the kitchen, thinking Anders was in trouble.  I immediately thought Trudy was in the garage and wanted to get out.  What I found was Trudy stuck in a tree in the backyard.  No, she had not gone too high,  Rather, she was very low on the tree, almost to the ground but not fully.  I thought she had found a possum or some similar varmint back there.  It turns out that she had caught her claw on a chair that was in that tree for some reason.  So I lifted her up, Trudy scurried away, and has spent most of the rest of the day inside on the green couch, which can be problematic since that is also the sight of Anders' pretend school.
Today was a rain out for the most part, but then about an hour before sundown blue skies pushed in and we had a beautiful sunset here on the first day of winter.  One of the best things about living in Texas is that the default sky is "sunny."  Winter in Texas is by far my favorite season.
Tomorrow Anders has Christmas Pageant Practice for his Sheep role.  He also might wander over the Children's Choir to sing "We Three Kings."  I think the main reason non-parents go to the Christmas Pageant church service is to see four year olds wander around the front of the church.  I don't think Anders will disappoint...
I would proofread, but Anders is standing next to me, singing gibberish in my ear so I cannot think.

Christmas Partying

Today was a day full of Christmas cheer.  I put on my domestic apron and put together three fruit trays for Anders' class Christmas party.  Anders liked having me there for lunch.  We bickered a bit during craft time, no more than when at home, but we didn't pretend that we sign Kumbaya to each other either.  I had forgotten how much I used to hate crafting.  It's only gotten worse as an adult as my large, clumsy fingers can't do much with those tiny Kindergarten sized craft pieces.  I think I'd rather try to help with high school math than help with a crafting project.  The kids did a Christmas song for the parents.  It was a disaster on Anders' part.  He did his own thing, then laid down on the job in the middle of the production, which would not have been such a big deal had he not been in the center of the number.  I wonder how much of that display was him acting out his misplaced feelings about Henrik and how much of it is being the youngest kid in the class.  Regardless, it will not be a Facebook masterpiece.
Then I drove in to see Henrik.  He remains steady.  Henrik is up to 20 mils on his feedings.  His Christmas photo is framed on the counter next to his isolette.  There is a professional photographer who takes their photos and gives the parents a free framed 5x7.  Christmas Carolers also sauntered into the NICU as I was holding Henrik.  There is also another baby in Henrik's row at the NICU.  This is another tiny baby in an isolette, so I think he will be there for a while like Henrik.  There have been a number of temporary babies that have cycled through, but this one will likely be his long term neighbor.  Henrik did another nice job on the hold, and I've become comfortable enough to put him back after a hold.  He still weighs 2 lbs 4 oz. 
Tonight we attended the St. John's Christmas Party.  Anders was looked after by some student babysitters at school.  He had fun this year and I did not receive a call to come by to reassure Anders as I did last year at this event, so that's real progress.  We ate and mingled outside at the Headmaster's house.  It will never get old to be at an outside event in December, but it does feel less weird than it did a couple years ago.  This is the best weather of the year!  I'm back in shorts and a t-shirt. 
Anders had a meltdown upon arriving home.  He thinks about Henrik all the time and for long stretches he is fine, such as over the course of the past week until last night.  Anders has had a couple of rough nights in a row, but he might follow that up with a great weekend.  Who knows?!  What I do know is that the hour that I hold Henrik, despite the NICU craziness, is the calmest, most peaceful hour of my day. 

1 month old or 30 weeks gestational age

I forgot to mention that Henrik was given the next size up in diapers because he was having large, blowout poops that were threatening to soil his isolette. Hence, if his diaper looks especially big, it's because of the volume that he is producing, which is quite healthy! 
Henrik reached 30 weeks gestational age and one month old today! 

Beginning of the Middle

Henrik remains 2lbs. 4oz.  The NNP said he will be on cpap for another week.  She would suggest that they dial down the machine to a setting of 4 from 5.  He's on 23% O2, so almost room air.  Their feeling was that Henrik is still a little too young and small to thrive on nasal canulas at this point.  He did a great job with me holding him as he never beeped once, not even an "84" reading.  There is really not much to say, Henrik's just steady as it goes. 
The nurses were complaining about their bad insurance, which they couldn't really get over since they work in a hospital.  I commiserated saying that our insurance got worse when we left Anna's union insurance for "open shop" Texas.  Henrik should qualify for Medicaid to makeup the difference according to our social worker.  It really doesn't make sense that unions get demonized since their entire mission is to help average workers live middle class lives.  I think about income inequality much more living in Texas than I ever did before moving here.  I see such fabulous wealth on a daily basis and if you look for it, you can see abject poverty.
We have returned to typical Winter Texas weather as it's 72 and sunny today.  I'm writing this post outside on the front porch, looking out at the changing leaves (it's still technically Autumn).
Anders gave himself a new middle name, "Boom," today as the wrote out the tag on his Christmas book exchange book.  Tomorrow is his class Christmas party.  I'll be making an appearance with my fruit plate among the Moms.  It's been since Ohio that I logged any serious Mom Time.
I got my hair cut today.  Fortunately, the fastidious barber was again working.  The haircut lasted a LONG time, in a good way!  She even had a second act by shaving my neck and ears.  You know you are getting old when 20% of the haircut revolves around getting the hair out of my ears.
Hasta Luego, computer's about to run out of juice... 

Punitive Poop

Henrik went back to the cpap yesterday.  He had a good 23 hours on Friday and Saturday, but his one bad hour was as the doctors were rounding on Saturday morning.  Susan was again his nurse yesterday and today.  She pleaded with the doctors to keep him on nasal canulas, but he was not ready to be consistent.  She said that he was looking particularly pale, which led to the doctors to measure his blood oxidation level.  They decided that he needed a blood transfusion, which he received last night.  Anna said his color was much better today.  She held him while I was with Anders.  Susan said that as they were putting Henrik back on cpap he was staring her in the eyes, then after he was rewired to the machine he had a giant messy diaper.  Later, after she stuck him with an IV for the blood transfusion, Henrik once again blew out his diaper.  So, Henrik is a pretty laid back guy, but if you mess with him, then he's a punitive pooper.  This is good information to have filed away come March.  We will of course make him mad often, but at least we will know what to expect.  So, Henrik communicates through either remaining saturated or desaturating, and dialing up a big diaper.  He's a very interesting guy to get to know. 
Speaking of interesting guys, Anders chose to be a sheep in the church Christmas pageant.  His other choices were angel or shepherd.  Anders was perhaps the youngest, and definitely the best behaved extra.  He kneeled behind the communion rail, which one of the directors saw, then called for the othe sheep to follow suit.  Of course, by that point Anders had stood up and was wandering away.  The practice was pretty short. The directors have a less is more philosophy, which is probably the best way of managing a gaggle of kids from 4 yrs. through high school.  Anders also took a three hour nap, which put everyone in a good mood this afternoon. 
Anders attended his friend Riya's 3rd birthday party last night.  Santa showed up with the Mrs.  All the kids went crazy, except Anders who kept decorating his cookies.  Santa maintained a steady din of excitement around him.  He electrified the kitchen with his stop there, but Anders saw an Advent Calendar and went after it, not even seeing Santa around him.  As Santa was leaving Anders could not have cared less because Anders was pounding out his repurposed Christmas Carols.  Anders likes to make up his own words to your Christmas favorites and belt them out.  For example, Anders never sings "The Twelve Days of Christmas" with the same words twice. 
Anna goes back to work for a week before break tomorrow.  Henrik will have been out four weeks tomorrow as well. In some ways, I cannot believe it's been four weeks, but in other ways it feels like four years.  My hair is getting thinner, and my beard grayer.  I'll be on the day shift with Henrik this week.  It's supposed to be more seasonal this week with highs in the 60s and 70s.  While I've enjoyed the highs in the 30s, 40s, and 50s, I'm ready for a few warm days.  We still haven't cooked in a long time and probably won't have to this week--thanks everyone!!!

Back to the Casino

Henrik is breathing through nasal canulas!!!  His nurse, Susan, persuaded the doctors to give it a try.  This is the same nurse who has furtively worked with Henrik to help him breath by taking off the cpap to massage his face, with the intended side effect of seeing if he could breath on his own for a while; he could. 
We went in this afternoon.  I had not seen Henrik since Monday, so I thought at first glimpse that he was on Casino Breathing, but thought I was seeing things until Nurse Susan announced the good news to us!  He did quite well and seemed much more comfortable on the canulas than the cpap.  Anders was the same way.  Henrik desaturated only at the very end when he wanted to eat.  It was so nice and calm, and he took the change in stride. 
I'm not sure about all of the items that Henrik will have to check off his list in order to get transferred to a special care nursery in Sugar Land, which would spare us the traffic, congestion, and expensive parking of the TMC, but I know he has to be able to self-regulate his body temperature, which I believe happens between 3 and 4 pounds, I think closer to four pounds.  When he can self-regulate then he'll be out of the isolette.  The insurance paid for a transfer last time, so I hope they will again, but we had union insurance last time. 
Henrik's fast progress has been remarkable.  If he can be in Sugar Land by the time that we are both back at work on January 6, that would be a huge weight off our minds. 
We can see that Henrik and Anders look like different babies now that the cpap is gone.  They really did look eerily similar while he was on the cpap.  We thought that we had access to a fold in time that allowed us to return to 2009 whenever we visited Henrik.  Now we can see, and we do agree that Henrik looks more like me than did Anders at this age.  Anders continues to look more like Anna than me.  Yet, the Peterson Brothers look more like each other than anyone else, but they are not time warp twins anymore. 
Tonight as Anders was on the toilet talking to me he said, "Everything is different in Vietnam. They have different manners." 
I thought I was talking to Walter Sobchak.  I felt like saying, "What has anything got to do with Vietnam?!" 
One of Anders' friends, the only one who moved with him from the Transition Room (3 yr olds) to Kindergarten, is moving away next week.  Anders said he made her mad today when he learned the news.  We could tell it was tough for him since he was telling us about it, since he doesn't usually share those things with us.  Distancing himself from Addison in that manner reminded me of how I was especially mean to my friend Luke in 7th grade before he moved away.  Moving away is so hard on both those leaving and those left behind. 
I hate to end on that note, so the weather remains pretty sweet.  I am always thankful for any day without vicious heat or stifling humidity. 

calm

I left a rather sour impression after my last post.  I don’t really have much to say, other than things are looking up.  Anna has had sufficiently whelmed nurses the past couple days.  Jumpsuit Man has not resurfaced (or Jumpsuit Woman).  It would appear that putting on a jumpsuit is akin to a license permitting dickish behavior.  Anyway… Henrik is down to a setting of 4 on the cpap, once he is at 2 he can go to nasal canulas.  The nurse yesterday gave Henrik a little facial massage where the cpap rests and he did fine for the time he was off of machines.  I asked Anna if he looked any less like Anders when she could see his whole face, nope, still the doppelganger.  The short of it is that Captain Henrik of the Texas Navy is doing quite well.  Yes, there was a Texas Navy, most of their engagements were with Mexico, and the old vestiges I’ve found are Texas Navy Drinking Team shirts in skuzzy Galveston souvenir shops.  Ah, how I love Galveston…  I can’t even say the word Galveston without getting a smile on my face.  I’ve probably said this before, but it’s like Key West, Athens (OH), and Gary Indiana had a child and made Galveston.  One day of school left, then reading day tomorrow, then a final exam on Tuesday, then I’m done til January! 

A Case of the Mondays

Yesterday we had a day filled with the ennui of Act 2 of the preemie drama.  After Friday’s great news, Anna and I have slowly deflated, letting out some of the extreme tension we have been feeling.  Anna felt suddenly nauseous yesterday, so she took a nap rather than go in and expose Henrik.  After her nap, she felt fine, which makes us think that it may be a psychosomatic reaction. 

I went in to see Henrik after work.  It was one of those days.  It was 45 degrees, heavy mist, and a traffic snarl in the Medical Center.  When I arrived at the NICU, the two nurses on duty were in jump suits.  Jumpsuit Man marched over to tell me that Henrik’s nurse had stepped away, but would be back soon.  These two were part of the NICU Travel Team that goes out to the babies where they are and tries to bring them back.  He may be fine at that job, but his bedside manner was zero.  He was brusk and rough.  When our nurse came back, she was a bit overwhelmed by the situation.  I don’t know why there were not more real nurses there, but if I get my hands on one of those satisfaction surveys that Anna always receives, I’ll give them a piece of my mind. 

I asked the nurse if I could hold Henrik, but she said that I would have to wait since it was 5:45 pm, the policy is that you hold for an hour, but another policy is that you can’t be there during shift change at 6:30 pm.  I was there at 5:30, but she was not.  I was taking in the off-putting performance of Jumpsuit Man.  I told her that I was there at 5:30, but she was not there, and that I could not wait until 6:30 to start because I had another son to read bedtime stories.  To her credit, she relented and let me hold.  She might have seen my eyes turning red or my ears starting to smoke, I don’t know, but she made the right call.  What I’ve come to understand implicitly since the adrenaline began to abate on Friday is that we did not start over at 0 days when Henrik arrived on Nov. 18.  We started at 97, and now are at 119.  I felt like I was battling with Pizza Nurse all over again. 

The good thing is that Henrik finally hit 2 lbs yesterday, but he still looks like a Frogman with his long arms and legs, loose skin, and the cpap, which looks like scuba gear.

Pulling out a computer to write is a good way to get your own seat on the bus.  It’s 36, wet, and windy this morning.  I’ve never seen two sustained cold snaps so close together and so early in the winter season.  At least we don’t have ice fog like they had at the Baylor-Texas game in Waco last weekend. Talking about the weather calms me, like Anders doing a letters puzzle.  Anders finished a meal last week and asked, “Is this satisfactory?”  That more syllables than years for Anders!   

No Brain Bleeds!

On Thanksgiving morning we received a call from the neonatal nurse practicioner saying that Henrik might have a brain bleed, but the scan was inconclusive so they'd be doing another scan in a week.  To a certain extent this news violated Memorial Hermann's "we call all the time, not just when the news is bad."  This policy seemed good and reasonable because Minneapolis only called when the news was bad.  So we studied Henrik for the next week, like a conspiracy theorist would study the Zapruder Film, for signs of a brain bleed.  We learned more about brain bleeds and understood that level 1 or 2 brain bleeds are not that bad, while level 3 and 4 bleeds are not good.  We girded ourselves even though he looked fine. 
In the meantime, Henrik was extubated in a manner that last much longer and proved more successful than Anders' dalliance with extubation, but we could not enjoy this accomplishment because in our quiet moments two words flashed across our minds, "BRAIN BLEED....BRAIN BLEED...BRAIN BLEED..." 
Then on Thursday night we received news that the preliminary read of the scan said no bleed, but the radiologist had not seen it yet.  Then yesterday afternoon, Anna texted me "NO BLEED!!!"  I deflated onto the table in the library at school.  My next move was to head downstairs to the bathroom for what felt like the first time in a week.  I felt like I was breathing for the first time since Henrik arrived almost three weeks ago.  We didn't realize just how much stress we were carrying around until a goodly amount of it left.  I felt lighter, and not just the weight I've lost on the Henrik Stress Diet. 
We are leaving the overwhelmingly stressful first act of the preemie hospital stay.  It's the shortest of the three acts, but also the most intense and fraught with danger.  The second act is breathing and growing for the transfer to the special care nursery in Sugar Land.  We may be further into Act II than we thought as I received word today that Henrik might move to nasal cannulas, or "casino breathing" as we call it, early next week!  Henrik is on room air today and a level 5 setting on the c-pap, at setting 2 he moves to cannulas.  The breathing is amazing and a bit disorientating (in a good way) with its speed considering the pokey nature of Anders' progress. 
I held Henrik today for the first time since Sunday and saw him for the first time since Tuesday.  It's hard being away and the guilt is crushing, so today felt great.  Henrik had one deep desaturation where the nurse had to come and rouse him, but it's explainable because he had just finished eating and he had burrowed deep into my chest hair. 
It's legitimately cold here today with high temperatures in the high 30s and windchills this morning at 15-20 degrees.  I don't think it froze this morning, but our neighbor's orange tree might be in trouble tonight.  We came close to a  record high temperature early this week in the low 80s and now we might set the record for the lowest high temperature ever on Pearl Harbor Day. 
We also have had amazing support from friends, colleagues, and church.  We have meals in our fridge for a week with more on the way today!  The outpouring of concern, love, and prayers has been overwhelming.  Thank you all. 

Second Hand News

Henrik went to C-Pap breathing yesterday!  Anna and Dorene arrived as the transition was happening.  Anna did not hold Henrik yesterday because it was too much for him.  Aside from being extubated and breathing more independently, the most encouraging aspect for me was to hear from Anna just how mad Henrik was about it.  He was yelling, paused, and then started yelling again as if to say, "One more thing!....Blah...."  Henrik appeared to be squeaking a bit and almost crying.  One of my concerns is the potential, if tiny, brain bleed and I worried about how that might manifest itself.  His spirited reaction to extubation allayed many of my concerns.  He is much more laid back as a rule than Anders, but it's good to hear him acting like the Wild Man his older brother was at least in this instance.
Dorene was going through her wallet looking for something, and she found a note her dad had made for her after Anders was born.  Anna and I had asked Dennis Arthur Lokken how to say "wild man" in Norwegian.  On the note, he wrote it out, then as an aside at the bottom he wrote that "Anders means D.A.L. in Norwegian."  She found that note also on the same day that Henrik's birth certificate and social security card arrived, the first piece of mail ever received by Henrik Arthur.  I was thinking about Dennis after I picked up the mail, and before I heard Dorene's story.  I had this image of him saying to me, "Hey, I really like the middle name Arthur--what was wrong with Dennis?" 
On an unrelated note, Anna and I finished "Breaking Bad" last night.  Wow!  It was amazing. I love the small role Houston has in the show.  I don't want to spoil anything in case you are working your way through it.  We started last summer and I felt it was imperative that we finish soon because I did not think I could avoid the spoiler much longer.  I loved the song choices in the last episode of Marty Robbins' "El Paso," and "Baby Blue" by Badfinger.  I also loved the use of "Oh Sherry" by Steve Perry in the 3rd to last episode. 

Sunday Recap

I held Henrik again yesterday.  Each time we have held him it has been a bit easier than the last time.  He had one moderate desaturation and one big one yesterday, but for the most part he self-corrected.  He is wiggly and handsy enough to make his presence known, but not so much as to burn extra pounds.  Henrik is off of his supplemental nutrition and on only 12cc of Anna’s breast milk.  His weight is up to 1lb 15 oz.  He has been gaining an oz or two per day, so me might be 2lbs on the 2^nd.  His 2^nd brain scan is scheduled for Thursday.  I guess brain bleeds are common for babies born this early, and our friend Deepa’s daughter Anya (born at 24 weeks) had one and she is fine today, if overly concerned about lice.  Anya and Anders are both careful preemies, for Anders his excessive concern is about “Stranger-Danger.”  It’s good to be concerned and vigilant, but his level of nuance and pointed questioning on this issue is akin to New Orleans DA Jim Garrison delving into the Warren Commission Report.  Now, Anya has Anders concerned about lice as well. 

Deepa, a medical doctor, says that so much of the brain has yet to develop that brain bleeds, while serious, are not proportional to having one in a fully developed brain.  Moreover, even level 1 or 2 bleeds are just monitored, and the spot on his X-Ray is inconclusively a brain bleed at this point.  The point of being repetitive is that my feeling is that Henrik is fine.  He tracks, responds, and seems to want to initiate conversation.  When I mentioned during my first visit yesterday that Anders was coming later he opened his eyes and did a little Henrik Shimmy (not to be confused with the Anders Shake, and hey, Anna, I didn’t say that he Rik Rolled, so that’s progress!).  Henrik can be sort of like the Headmaster in Rushmore until Anders is mentioned, all calm and sedate, then you mention Mr. A and H is all “Fischer!”  Henrik just conserves his energy for eating and growing.  He seems more mellow and self-contained than Anders.  While Anders would like for everyone to hold him, Henrik often seems ready to go back in the isolette.  It’s as though he’s saying, “Go! Leave! You’ve stayed your hour!” He wants to get back to ruling his home. 

Per CDC guidelines, yesterday was Anders last day to visit Henrik until the end of flu season or Henrik goes home, whichever comes first.  I imagine Henrik will be home first since flu seasons probably runs through March, even though Houston is in full bloom by mid February it’s a national declaration.  Anders will be okay with this notion owing to his love of rules.  I think Henrik will miss seeing Anders, however.  He was saturating at 100%, beeping off in the good direction, and generally showing every sign of his excitement at seeing Anders.  Anna took a picture of the brothers shaking hands, which she put on her Facebook. 

Grandma Update:  After Grandma Ingrid’s knitting adventure in the nation’s most poorly designed airport for the post 9-11 world, her plane from Houston to St. Louis on Southwest failed mechanically, so everyone had to get off and she spend last night in the Airport Marriot (on SWA’s dime, I hope).  She’ll try again from Hobby today….  Grandma Dorene turns 60 today!  Happy Birthday!  Anders loves celebrating birthdays and round numbers so he’s excited, especially since he had hoped to but did not get to celebrate with Grandpa on his 60^th in February. 

Well, I’m passing the Summit, now Joel Osteen’s mega church, which means I’m almost at work.  Til Tuesday…

Holding Pattern

I held Henrik today!  He is SO SMALL!!!  I've held a 2 1/2 lb baby so I know small, but when the child is south of two Justin Alberses, that's a whole other ball game.  He wiggled around and clutched at some chest hair, but on the whole he was pretty mellow.  Like with Anna, Henrik deeply desaturated toward the end of our skin to skin time.  It was great to hold him.  It's really hard to describe.  I remember what it felt like to hold Anders, but I don't remember him being so very small.  Places on my body where I remembered feeling arms and legs from the end of our skin to skin time with Anders, there was but a warm blanket. 
We are starting over.  During the deep desaturation I felt it again, we are completely and totally starting over.  Its sort of like teaching a class for a year.  You have corrected some grievous errors, and have their writing up to your standards, then the school year is over, they leave your class, and then you start over with a new class that makes all the same mistakes as last year's class.  So we start the process again as parents of another son attending NIC University.  The nurse gave me a mirror to watch Henrik as he was on my chest, but I moved it up to watch his O2 levels.  When Anna was giving me a look like she accidentally ate whipped cream, I just had to look.  The nurse scolded me for my breach of protocol because their whole thing is that the parent just enjoys the kangaroo care and ignores the stats.  I played along with Anders, but this isn't my first rodeo, as I told her, and those stats matter regardless of what they say.  Heck, anyone who sees the facebook pictures can see my veteran status with my Favre-ian beard. 
My mother in law wanted me to mention the hospital gown they made me wear. It was allegedly one size fits all.  Instead, I looked like a time traveling John Tesh who went back to 1983 to ease superpower tensions through Piano Diplomacy.  In all seriousness, I was hulking out of the arms holes.  They might have to replace it soon.
The other interesting thing was meeting our neighbor Kristina.  She walks around the neighborhood every day, multiple times per day.  I've seen her and waved consistently over the past few months, but today something changed and she initiated a stop and chat.  One of my weaknesses is that I encourage talkative, eccentric people to keep talking.  I learned that Kristina left Poland 33 years ago, which make her departure date 1980, and if you know your Cold War history that's when the spit was hitting the fan in Polska with the striking dock workers in Gdansk and the Red Army threatening to invade.  She has two sons, one in England and one in Sugar Land.  She watches Chinese TV with her Taiwanese daughter in law, and her grandsons do not visit her enough. 
The reason that she stopped me was because she thought "you look like Polak"  When I grow my beard, I do tend to look a bit more Slavic, and that's the reason she decided to take a chance and talk to me.  Her English was quite broken, but she said that she had been around the world in her many years and she believed that Polish men were the most handsome in the world.  She also had a high regard for Hungarians, considering their historical connections with Poland through their shared monarchy.  Kristina had a low opinion of the Czechs, however: "Czech's HATE Poles. My neighbor is Czech, she married a Czech. now they are divorced!"  The implication being that by marrying a Czech she ruined her life.  I don't really understand the animosity.  As a Polish American, Prague is one of my favorite cities in the world.  Now it's no Krakow, mind you, but it's still pretty awesome. 
So Henrik, welcome to the Eagles' Nest, you come from handsome stock.  Keep it mellow. 

Baby Huffington

Today, Henrik stepped outside of his bubble, the isolette, for the first time since he entered this bubble.  He did a wonderful job with his skin to skin contact or "kangaroo care" with Anna.  Throughout life we are stepping out of bubbles and creating new ones.  Today, I stepped out my bubble with Grandma Ingrid as we ventured into the MO City Walmart to get her a crochet hook.  The MO City Walmart is sort of like an ethnically diverse version of the Athens Walmart minus the funk of the Athens Walmart.  That place smelled AWFUL even for a Walmart in Appalachia.  Neither the Logan nor Gallipolis Walmarts smelled that bad.  This is why your read this blog for commentary on Appalachian Walmart odor!  By the way, it only took 50 years (not a joke), but the Nelsonville bypass opened last month!  Now, it's possible to get from Athens to the Columbus airport in an hour, oh the possibilities...
Anyway, we construct bubbles, find new bubbles, and occasionally step out of our own bubbles.  Henrik did remarkably well.  He didn't significantly desaturate on his O2 levels until his hour with Anna was almost up.  He was content to get back in the isolette when it was over, and cover his eyes with his arm and go back to sleep.  It is too early to make generalizations, but that's never stopped me before, so here goes...  Henrik seems like more of chilled out dude than Anders.  Anders walks around with big flashing buttons on his chest, like Darth Vader, that Henrik will do doubt find and exploit.  Henrik just wants to be left alone to sleep.  It's kind of an Adam Isherwood to Paul Isherwood scenario, as I understand it. 
Henrik's doing all the correct things, just eating and sleeping, and occasionally wiggling for good measure.  Anna said Henrik was a bit wiggly with her and had busy hands, but generally was calm.  He also had a case of the hiccups to overcome, symbolism, so...  I would go back four years for a comparison of Anders' first kangaroo care session, but I want to sleep tonight, so I'll leave that up to you if you are ambitious. 
I think one of the reasons that Anna was so emotional during birth this time and that I've had so many strange and varied emotions is that we know with excruciating detail what the months ahead in the hospital look like.  Even though Henrik will have different challenges and different points of success, we have a good idea of the basic plot.  I don't remember if I said it here or just in a private message, but these months in the NICU are like reliving Middle School.  While there are some fun events like Kangaroo Care or 8th grade basketball, for the most part it's awkwardness, uncertainty, and the painful longing for something better over the horizon. 
Anders decided that he wanted to call Henrik "Baby Huffington."  He has also been building a crib and a room for him out of  Legos.  Anna and I started talking today about what our schedule will be once the cavalry leaves next week.  We have a good plan up to Jan. 6, then will reevaluate.  It's sunny again, which makes everything seem better, but it's cool enough that Anna remains happy with the weather.  Anna thinks it's funny that I seem to know everyone in the NICU.  I tell her that my advantage was not being on mind-altering drugs during my stay in the hospital. 
I guess that's about it.  Anna had a great day.  It's my turn tomorrow.  They only want one parent per day on skin to skin contact, but they want the session to last for an hour because in both instances they don't want a lot of back and forth.  I'll have to do my neck exercises tonight to mitigate my neck bubble that will show up on pictures tomorrow.  It was bad enough last time when I was in my 20s and jogging consistently, so some of those pictures will be pretty bad.  I hope that people will be able to see Henrik through my thicket of chest hair.  If he's like Anders, he'll learn to twist it and pull the chest hair for entertainment.  Well, I've almost polished off this second Caucasian, so it's time to go.  I hope you got it all on sale today. 

1st Dip on the Coaster

Henrik had his ultrasound today.  It showed a spot on his brain, but the radiologist could not tell whether or not it was a brain bleed because it was so small.  Even level 1 or level 2 brain bleeds are just monitored, and no action is taken initially.  So, it seems that we either have a blip that is nothing or a less than level one brain bleed.  They will do another ultrasound in a week to see if they can tell more then.  Obviously, we wish that no spot had shown up, but we are glad that it is so small and inconclusively a bleed. 
Henrik is back under the lights with Billy Reuben.  He is off of humidity because any more time with humidity can lead to yeast infections since preemie skin is so thin.  Once they turn the lights off in a day or two, then we can hold him!
Henrik's still getting 25 breaths per minute on the respirator and his 02 levels remain in the mid 20% range. 
He's gone up from 6 to 8 mils on his feedings.  Henrik is eating enough that he is now getting donor milk.  Anna's already starting to taper off her pumping.  Donor milk is a relatively new concept here, which is a surprise since they were doing it four years ago in Minneapolis, and it did not seem like some hip, new thing there at that time. 
Well, we were overdue for a hiccup, so there it is, and it appears rather minor at this point, but we are officially on the roller coaster now. 
We still have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.  Until Black Friday...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Henrik finally had a blowout poop yesterday!  Otherwise, he was steady.  He's slowly getting weened off of humidity, when he is down to 0% then we will be able to hold him.  His brain scan will be either today or tomorrow, and it's an ultrasound not a CT scan. 
Grandma Ingrid flew to Texas in style.  She missed her connection in KC because she was knitting, getting paged, ended up leaving the security cordon, tried to talk her way back in, which did not work, so she missed her flight.  Fortunately, she got on another flight that rerouted her through Love Field and even more fortunately she did not have to leave the plane in Dallas!  She sat through the Southwest Airlines Bus Stop, and was on to Houston.
Traffic wasn't bad yesterday in the H, except at Hobby Airport.  There were multiple traffic cops, Hobby rentacops, and even an ambulance with sirens blaring.  This craziness, however, made the perfect pickup possible.  As I creeped into the pickup zone, I saw Mom hiding behind a rental car courtesy bus.  I stopped close-ish to the curb, got out of the car, jogged toward Mom as the rentacop yelled at me (I pretended not to hear him, which is easy with my rapidly deteriorating hearing), miraculously she heard me, we got her loaded and we were off to the hospital for Grandma to meet Henrik. 
Anders was in tow, which means we brake for hand sanitizer and water fountains.  Anders and Henrik had a now typical interaction.  Anders yelled hello at his isolette and Henrik covered his ears.  Yet, Henrik was glad to see his brother.  Anna and I had visited earlier in the afternoon and the only thing that cheered Henrik up was mention of Anders.  I did another song and dance number with Brother Bear, which Henrik disliked.  That set the tone for the visit.  He employed the MN Steve Doctrine: "No Touching!" throughout the visit.  Henrik was stretching out quite a bit more yesterday.  Today Henrik is 27.1, which is the exact age at which Anders arrived.  Henrik's weight is up to 1 lb 11 oz, only 1.5 oz less then his weight when he was born. 
We aren't going to the zoo this year as has become our Thanksgiving tradition because every day now is a zoo, across Cambridge Street from the Houston Zoo.  We are having Thanksgiving at home with The Grandmas. 
Happy Thanksgiving to all!  We are thankful for our sons and so much more! 

Steady

Today was steady.  Nothing much was new.  Henrik is a bit constipated, but otherwise his breathing is steady as is everything else.  His color is good.  He continues to look just like Anders.  He was woken up by his nurse to rearrange him and all of his business, and he subsequently held my hand for a while.  I did a duet with Brother Bear, a Muppet-style number that Henrik seemed to enjoy so much that he was asleep by the time Anna returned from pumping. 
Henrik seems a lot more mellow and sleepy than Anders at this point.  Again, Anders wasn't out at this point.  He is smaller, his color seems better, he's more laid back, and he looks just like Anders.  That's what we know so far.  I jumped into the rabbit hole of comparing Anders and Henrik last night by checking information that I'd posted on this blog four years ago, which led to a nasty little bout of insomnia, so I won't be doing that again for a while. 
I believe we are supposed to see the sun again tomorrow for the first time in over a week.  That must be some kind of record because it's always sunny down here, even on cloudy days.  Also, there were snow flakes spotted in the NW suburbs.  I'm hoping the projected Thanksgiving freeze turns into a killing frost because it would be nice to do in the bugs for a couple of months.
As you can tell, the visit was uneventful today, but in a good way. 

Hold On Loosely, But Don't Let Go

The summer I worked road construction, I worked close enough to a radio market big enough to have a classic rock station.  I now find this turgid, stale format almost unlistenable, but when I was 20 it was awesome.  That's when I discovered .38 Special and my favorite song from their cannon--"Hold on Loosely."  Now, The Special ended up where all classic rock bands end up, the Meigs County Fair, but before that happened a few years ago they served to brighten my spirits on long days holding stops signs in the summer in rural Iowa. 
Today, I had the first time experience of holding both of my sons' hands at different times in the day in order to get them to sleep.  It was a remarkably similar experience and sensation, except the older one talked to me, "Let me tell you a question..."  I held on loosely, but didn't let go.  Letting go meant that each would wake up and we'd be close to square one.  Yet, I couldn't squeeze too tightly or else they would not be adequately relaxed.
Henrik continues to look like Anders to a degree that amazes us.  Once Henrik passes 27 weeks, I'll have to post pictures side by side and see how many people guess the boys correctly (you have a 50/50 shot!) 
Anders decided to get Henrik a "brother bear" stuffed animal and deliver it to him today.  Anders was so proud last night that he had thought of that idea for a gift.  Anders is truly thoughtful and considers others in a way that amazes me.  That does not mean that Anders lacks for comic relief, however, as today he changed the 12 Days of Christmas to "12 Tiny Babies." 
On Thursday or Friday, Henrik will be weened off of the humidity in his isolette.  He will have a CT scan, routine for a 10 day old, and he will have a pic line inserted.  At this point we will transition from the "just born" preemie stage to the standard newborn preemie stage at which point we'll be able to hold him with skin to skin contact or "kangaroo care." I'm ready to move to stage two.  It has its ups and downs, but it's a lot less scary than stage one. 
On an unrelated note, you might be asking, "Where did the name Henrik Arthur come from?"  Well, like Anders it was a name that we had agreed on years before Henrik was in our lives.  The time between agreeing on Anders and choosing Anders was longer than the time between agreeing on Henrik and choosing Henrik, but we are still talking about a number of years.  We travel a lot in the car between whatever far flung locale we live in and our old homes, so Henrik came to us on one of those Appalachian Ohio to the Upper Midwest jaunts we were so fond of taking between 2003 and 2011.  My great grandpa was Henry Peterson, and had he been born in Sweden like his parents, he would have been Henrik rather than Henry, so I consider it a family name, regardless it means "Ruler of the Home."  Have I already said this?  I feel like I have...  According to my uncle Jim, Henry Peterson ran for the Kansas House of Representatives from Central Kansas as a Democrat, which makes him a profile in courage, and we are looking for all the courage we Petersons can muster these days! 
Since Henrik isn't officially a family name, it was my turn to choose the middle name as Anna chose her great grandpa Nils Anton Ytterboe as the namesake for Anders' middle name.  I toyed around with Henrik Richard (my middle name and my grandpa's name) or Henrik Jon (Anna didn't like the flow of this one, and I agreed).  Then earlier this year it all fell into place.  Anna's beloved grandpa, Dennis Arthur Lokken died after 85 vigorous and influential years on earth as a teacher, coach, and high school principal.  Dennis Lokken was a great man, and I don't use that term lightly.  His packed funeral in June in Litchfield, MN was full of emotional tributes to him.  Dennis was also quite funny, and one of the things he would do in a joking, but somewhat serious manner was to attempt to sell his grandkids (and their spouses) on the name "Dennis Arthur."  I remember he and Anna having an exchange over the name...
Anna: "I don't know, Grampa. I just don't really like the name 'Dennis' that much."
Dennis: "I'm deeply offended.  What about 'Arthur' then?"
Anna: "Arthur's not bad, I kinda like Arthur."
Dennis (smiling): "Ahhh."
It was decided. Henrik Arthur would be the name.  My grandfathers died before I was born so Dennis was like my grandfather.
While we are at it, and since we have retired from further procreation, I might as well toss out our girl name just for the historical record: Vivian Geneva Peterson.
Vivian was Anna's Gramma Lokken's middle name: Joyce Vivian (Ytterboe) Lokken and Geneva was my  grandma's name: Geneva Marie (Burnison) Peterson.  My only regret in having two boys is that I did not get a chance to honor my grandma in this manner.  She was without a doubt one of the two best people I ever knew, my aunt Marilee being the other one.  She is perhaps more responsible for the person I am today than anyone else, and continues to be the main reason I am NOT "34 and drinking in some honky tonk, just kickin' hippies asses, and raising hell."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YcBOcwgb4OA
(although I am partial to Shiner beer)

Lazy Sunday

Southeast Texas continues to be under the grip of a Blue Norther.  It's so "cold" that Trudy has been sitting in my lap this weekend, and when Trudy sits in my lap I fall asleep. There is even talk of a light freeze on Thanksgiving. On this cool, gray day Henrik was also a sleepy guy when we visited him earlier this afternoon. He opened his eyes a bit, but mostly just turned over and kept covering his ears with this massive (proportionally) hands. 
They didn't detect the heart murmur today.  Again, this is garden variety preemie stuff that they are observing now, and will likely be treated later with medication after they get a read on it.  His ventilator was down to 20 breaths per minute from 40 yesterday.  Tex was down to a range from 21% (room air) to 25% O2.  Billy Reuben was away, but seemed likely to return tomorrow since his levels were rising. 
Anna continues to fight the good fight with regard to pumping, but it's going about like last time.  Yet, at this point Henrik gets all his feedings from her breast milk. 
Our doctor is a St. John's parent.  His son is dating one of my advisees (at least as of last month's parent-teacher conferences).  This example is one of the reasons locals call Houston the nation's biggest small town, or H-town as it's known down here. 
Hasta Luego.

Brotherly Love

Henrik has a heart murmur.  I believe Anders had it too.  It's a developmental thing that's treated only with medication.  It's something that clears up with time and medicine.  Anders has no residual effects from his murmur.  There are just a lot of developmental things like this item that he must overcome. 
The ventilator was ratcheted up to 40 breaths per minute from only 20 yesterday.  They are aggressive about extubation, but Mr. H said "Not so fast!"  Yet, he was down to 25% O2 from 29% yesterday (21% is room air).  His breathing was much better by the afternoon so they expected him to go down on the ventilator later today. 
Even though Henrik came 10 days earlier than Anders, he did not come because of a problem with himself as did Anders.  Anders had an infection, which caused him to come early, while for Henrik the problem was with the connection between the uterus and placenta, so it had nothing directly to do with Tex. 
Captain Henrik knows our voices, and responds to them.  In fact, his O2 saturation levels were so high when he was holding my finger that his machines were beeping off in a positive direction.  I never remember Anders' machines beeping off in a positive direction (They probably did, but I've forgotten). 
Henrik really lit up, however, when we lifted up Anders to the isolette to see Henrik and talk to him: "He's so small. Ah, he's cute. Hi Henrik!"  Henrik's eyes lit up, opened wide, and he started shimmying his arms and legs.  Henrik liked hearing our voices, but he was energized by hearing and seeing Anders!  Anders then proceeded to color a picture for Henrik.  I hope that the CDC's official start of flu season holds off for a while longer because once flu season is called Anders cannot visit Henrik, and seeing his brother is good for Henrik's progress. 
One of the funny things happening around us is that a Blue Norther swept off the plains yesterday, which has dropped temperatures to 50 degrees.  You can almost see your breath.  People down here are dressed like it's below zero, and they are staying home.  The roads have been remarkably clear for a weekend. 
That's the update from chilly Texas, I'll write more when there is more to say. 

Don't Mess With Texas!

I didn’t have time to proofread this as we have to get going to the hospital, but I thought it was important to finally get the birth story up on the interwebs.
Monday was one of my favorite teaching days of the year.  In my senior elective we talked 80s foreign policy, and after two dull and downer weeks of the Market Revolution and Slavery, respectively, we got to discuss Manifest Destiny, the Texas Revolution, and the Annexation of Texas.  I love hearing all the tales of Texas Independence that the students tell, debunking what myths I can, and ultimately agreeing to disagree on a lot of stuff.  I play the gadfly, continually needling students about the Texas creation myths including the Battle of the Alamo, the Yellow Rose of Texas, etc...  At some point between the first and third time I produced this little riff, I must have messed with Texas, and one thing we know: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo1DwpijYnk
I finished my last class and checked my phone at about 2:45 pm, saw a message from Anna, thought it odd, listened, and the adrenaline started pumping.  It reminded me of talking to Greg (Anna's dad) on that sunny Saturday morning in July of '09.  I quickly packed up my room and my things, luckily found three colleagues in a meeting so I didn't have to worry about calling later, and then I took the bus back to Sugar Land.  Fortunately, the bus stop is only a block away from the hospital. I found Anna in the "Pregnancy Triage" room, which sounded ominous.  She was having "cramps," which were identified soon after I arrived at 4 pm as contractions.  Anna had left school around 1:30 pm. just to get checked up. She said that she had been feeling a bit “whoopy” in the morning, and I recalled that on Sunday Anna had complained about heartburn.  I told Anna to tell her nurse about it on Tuesday when she came to administer the progesterone shot on Tuesday.
By 4:30 Sugar Land Methodist Hospital was calling these cramps “contractions.”  We made arrangements for Anders and called the appropriate people at work, and girded ourselves for another wild ride.  We were told around that time that Anna would be transferred “downtown,” which was a bit confusing.  A quick aside, when someone says “Downtown” in the context of Houston it can be confusing because Houston looks like it has three downtowns owing to the city’s proud eschewal of zoning laws, which were so popular in the 20^th century.  The downtowns with tall buildings grouped together are: the business district, the Texas Medical Center (TMC), and the Galleria (Rich People Downtown).  So, I thought we were going to the business district, wondering where the hospital was in the business district. 
The contractions started coming more frequently. I was now riding in the ambulance rather than following behind the ambulance.  The medics arrived between 5:30 and 6:00 pm to take Anna down to the ambulance, through Houston rush hour, and to the TMC, not the business district at Children’s Memorial Hermann Hospital.  Three EMTs showed up, two petite and polite Texas women, and Michael, a rotund, loquacious, OCD Cajun.  They were so small, and he looked like the guy you would see during the Crawfish Festival at Pappadeaux drifting out of the kitchen to chat up the customers.  He sounded just like the judge on “Maine Justice,” the SNL sketch starring Jason Sudekis.  Or, if you went to grad school with me, he sounded like Dr. Todd Pfeffer doing the impression of his high school gym teacher in North Carolina, Jim Spivey, and his “Am Assembly Snow SchEEEDuooole.”  Or, just one more, he sounded like Jackie Gleason’s “Beauford T. Justice” from “Smokey and the Bandit.”  I don’t think I can do justice to how unnerving this guy was for us.  The Cajun accent has to be the dumbest sounding accent in the country.  I used to think it was the Appalachian accent, but with the Appalachian accent they talk at such a fast mumble that you miss 40% of the words, which puts you back on your heels.  You understand every word of the Cajun accent, and the words coming out of Michael’s mouth didn’t make him sound any smarter.  For example, he kept making “women’s lib” jokes about Anna moving herself from the hospital bed to the gurney. WHAT???!  Before the transfer, he became obsessed with finding a brown blanket to cover Anna for the trip out.  By the way, it wasn’t cold outside, and Anna wasn’t cold at that point either, but in lieu of transferring Anna to the gurney, Michael spent precious minutes looking for the blanket, accusing his coworkers of stashing it, and leading me to the point that I was ready to do violence on Michael.  Finally, one of the women snapped at him, “She’s going to be okay without the blanket! We need to get going!”  As she finished, he pulled it out of his cart with a big, dumb grin on his face, “Awh seh, hew itchis! Wewl, Ah gess we caaan git goin’ nah!” 
            Anna rode in the back with the ladies, who told her that if contractions got any closer together, they were 2-3 minutes apart at that time that they would have to pull over and Henrik would be born on the Southwest Freeway. I, meanwhile, was subject to my own pain, riding in the front with Michael.  My ragin’ at this Cajun only increased as he made a series of threadbare jokes to Anna and me about how I was driving the ambulance, and what a crazy driver I was.  It was almost as though he believed that by making more repetitive jokes; he could make up for their lameness.  I would get an update every so often from the EMTs, saying that Anna was doing well.  They even sounded like they were having calm conversations as I heard more and more about my aggressive phantom driving. 
            We were going against traffic as we headed into the city, but in the nation’s 4^th largest city with a sick civic competition with LA to have the nation’s worst traffic; things are never good at rush hour.  We had to navigate through one road construction snarl, two freeway accidents, the two busiest freeway interchanges in the city, and another accident on the surface roads.  I will give Michael his due in the middle of the city and on the surface roads as he could anticipate the morons before their moronicness manifested itself. 
            We arrived at Children’s Memorial Hermann at about 7 pm.  Anna was in better spirits because we were finally there and she would not be giving birth on the shoulder across from the Succeed in Life Center or the South Vietnamese carnival.  The next frustration was the time it took to get some real medical attention.  The EMTs were nice enough, but they couldn’t even tell which side was down on a bedpan.  We could not be seen until the PAPERWORK was finished.  This is when the stress of the day got to me and I started shouting (Dan Seeley is nodding along, smiling his Cheshire Cat-faced grin right now).  Anna snapped at me for snapping (this all will sound familiar if you were with us for the Anders Experience), but the female EMTs loved it: “Absolutely, Dad, you FIGHT for your woman!”  20-30 minutes later a nurse arrived, and another 10-15 minutes later a resident doctor showed up, Dr. Sarah Berg.  Anna reiterated what she had been saying about not wanted to have this baby now.  Dr. Berg replied with a healthy dose of Texas swagger: “There is no better place in the country to be.  We are going to do our best to hold off that baby.  You are in the best place in the country for something like this to happen, there is no better place.  We will keep that baby in.  Whenever you do have that baby, though, it will have the best care in the country here.”  A doctor would never talk this way in Minnesota; you’d probably loose your medical license. 
            For the next hour or so the drugs like magnesium were working, the contractions were spacing out to 6-7 minutes, and appeared less severe to me.  Around 8:45 the contractions became more severe and soon came more frequently.  Dr. Berg returned a bit after 9:30, evaluated the situation, for example, Anna was bleeding from the Gates of Heaven and so called in the NICU delivery team.  More and more nurses, doctors, and random med students began showing up in the room.  The doctor credited with the deliver, Dr. Morris, shared a last name and strongly resembled one of my 8^th grade B squad caggers from last year, but she was not related to him.
            So much of what happened over the next hour was déjà.  I was holding Anna’s hand and stroking her hair, but I was not on leg duty like last time.  As the time approached, one of the doctors said: “I don’t want to scare you Mrs. Peterson, but it is really important that you push as hard as you can RIGHT NOW.”  To this point, it had been a steady push through a ten count, slow and steady; they were hurrying Anna, but not rushing her along.  Well, Anna now realized that play time was over and it was winning time.  I’m going to now make a sports analogy that Anna will hate three months later when she reads this.  She got a look in her eyes that Michael Jordan used to get at the end of basketball games when it was winning time.  It was a steely-eyed determination to dominate through the force of will.  She overcame her epidural (I had to leave for this procedure, which sounded like 20 minutes of Hell.  People walking by the room were stopped in their tracks by Anna’s screaming.  Anna had told me earlier that when she met the anesthesiologist that she imagined him as my friend Brad, an anesthesiologist, with whom she has sparred over the years on numerous topics such as whether to drink OJ while pregnant.  This guy had no idea of the 2^nd hand animosity directed at him), which she was overjoyed to have had time to receive this time, and pushed Henrik out just a couple minutes after that non-warning warning.  It turns out that Henrik had the umbilical cord wrapped around his head at that point.  It was such a short time that it did no damage, but only through Anna’s hard work was it such a short time.
            Henrik arrived with a splash.  Anna’s water broke on the way out, but the delivery doc was ready with a splash guard facemask and a hair net.  Henrik did not cry, unlike Anders.  I could tell right away that he was smaller than Anders.  They rushed him over to the NICU team.  Anna later told me that with all the drugs, she felt like things were just happening around her and that she was not a big part of things.  After Henrik was out, this could not have been truer.  The room shifted to the table where they were working on him.  I noticed that the heart rate was in the 30s, and the team was talking in hushed tones. All the worst thoughts rushed into my head.  I didn’t change my position next to Anna on the bed or say anything to her.  I just stared at the NICU team and the heart monitor.  After what was probably five minutes, but felt like an eternity, his heart rate was up in the 60s then the 80s, then the low 100s.  They started using conversational voices and invited me over to hold Henrik and one member of the team snapped some picture of me with him.  After a few more minutes, they brought him over to Anna.  It was amazing to see such a deep, instant bond between the two of them.  Henrik knew her and felt safe in her arms.  After a minute or two, they took him away to the NICU.  I believe that he had a breathing tube while we were holding him, unlike Anders.  Henrik arrived 10 days earlier than Anders at 25 weeks 5 days rather than 27 weeks 1 day.
            Our good friend Deepa, a doctor herself, came into the room right after Henrik was born to bring our stuff, snap a few pictures, and tell us that she recorded the audio of the birth outside of the room.  Anders was staying at her house, which was familiar to him since we go over there a lot and he frequently plays with their daughters Anya and Riya.  Anya was also a preemie, born at 24 weeks 0 days.  She weighed 1 lb 9 oz, which is only 3.5 oz less than Henrik did although he arrived 12 days later.  Deepa was a good, calming presence to have around.  Although I would like to be calm, I usually end up like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zT2ae1WkuC0  (Dan Seeley is nodding even more vigorously now.)  For example, after we were transferred to the 6^th floor recovery room, I accidentally ripped out Anna’s IV in the middle of the night as I tripped over it, trying to help her to the bathroom.  I’m a bull with a portable China shop.
            Odds and Ends: Henrik was born in room 541 at 10:53 pm. We recovered in room 641…  Our recovery show was “Breaking Bad,” rather than “The Golden Girls” as it was last time.  We just finished the first half of season five.  I won’t give anything away, but who knew taking a dump could be profitable police work!... Being born on Nov. 18, makes for the first November birthday in our immediate families.  With Anders we arrived home in November, now this new adventure begins in November.  I suspect that when it’s all over we will have been in the NICU every month of the year save April, May, and June… The hospital is great.  They are relaxed, but have a quiet confident.  In Minneapolis they were so fussy that it put us on edge at times.  Memorial Hermann will not put Anna and mind-altering drugs to try to get milk to flow, and they’ve never even heard of infant massage, so those are both advantages of Fairview.  That said, we received excellent care in Minneapolis, but there were just a few things and there will be things here that just make you go “ugh.”…  Anna and I are doing as well as can be expected…  Anders doesn’t totally get what is going on, but I think meeting Henrik yesterday helped.  He yelled his greeting to his little brother who definitely recognized the voice, then scrunched his face and covered his ears.  So it begins.

Henrik Arthur Peterson

Henrik Arthur Peterson was born at 10:53 CDT at Memorial Hermann Children's Hospital in the Space City of Houston, Texas to Jon, Anna, and his twin separated by four years, Anders Anton.  He was 1 lb. 12.5 oz. and 13.75 inches long.
The reason he arrived early was because the placenta tore away from the wall of the uterus.  Henrik's umbilical cord was briefly wrapped around his neck, but that problem was quickly rectified as Anna's speedy and efficient pushes.
Anna remains in the hospital until tomorrow.  Anders is in good hands.  I can't wait to see him tonight for the first time since he became a big brother.  Anna gets released tomorrow, at which point we can start to experiment with what normal now looks like.
I will have a more complete chronicle of this saga with well-developed supporting characters, geographic details, historical context, realistic dialogue, and the rapier wit loyal readers have come to expect from a Jon Peterson blog post.
The big difference between having a preemie in your twenties with no kids at home and having one in your 30s with an dynamic, loquacious four year old quirky professor at home is that nowadays we are TIRED ALL THE TIME.
Adios,
Daddy Eating (the name Anders programmed into my iPhone by which Siri addresses me)  

Halloween; Odds and Ends

Anders was "Jack 'O Letters" for Halloween.  It was a smashing success!  Anders did not like going to a Halloween party on Oct. 19 because it was too early, but once our friend Stephen Kehs put a jar of candy corn in front of Anders to guess how many were in the jar, then he was much better and enjoyed the remainder of the party.  He had another great time at Sugar Land Town Center for their Halloween bash.  He stood in two really long lines for candy.  This is the first year he has been patient enough to do so. We had lost his good will by the time I wanted to pose in front of the giant inflatable pumpkin.  We also went to Zoo Boo last weekend where we once again saw the Kehses.  Anders' Zoo Boo tattoo is still showing in parts.  We didn't stay too long because it was, well, a zoo. 
Halloween was almost a washout.  It rained from afternoon on the 30th until early afternoon on Halloween.  Even the bayou in front of our house had water. It was gorgeous weather by the time that we went out. Anders had quite a hall as he took home 83 pieces of candy, up from his record of 76 pieces last year.  These are Anders' numbers, so you can rely on their accuracy.  One of Anders' friends from school, Oscar, came trick or treating at our house, which was a pleasant surprise.  The other interesting cultural difference between here and back home or even our old neighborhood is that over half of the adults and some of the people sitting outside handing out candy were drinking!  It made for quite a cheerful Halloween. 
Anders has become more accepting of the little brother he has coming.  We had a meltdown in Trader Joe's about a month ago when we were buying pumpkins after Anna explained that she was buying a family of four pumpkins.  About 10 minutes later, Anders fully melted down.  Once he was calmer, he asked, "Why do you need another baby when you have me?"  That was tough to hear.  Anders is talking about the baby more now and in a more constructive manner, but that positive trend line can always change.  One of the things that has helped Anders is the role playing game he has created where he is the father, I am "Mother," and Anna is "Kid."  Anna impersonates Anders.  She revels in doing all the annoying things that Anders does to drive her crazy.  It's funny to see him get exasperated with her and hustle to the kitchen when "Kid" demands water.  Kid is a boy if you were wondering.  Anders listens to me as "Mother" better than in real life as my nagging compels action rather than ignoring.  The long and the short of it is that he is dealing better than before.
Anders likes kindergarten at his daycare.  He calls it Kindergarten because it's kind of kindergarten.  He gives his after school teachers homework to do with the worksheets he makes up.  He also does this for us at home.  Anders received an "unsatisfactory" in science class because he didn't follow directions.  This is a problem for Anders.  The assignments are too easy for him, so he answers questions that he wishes he was asked.  Anders also very much enjoys Sunday School.  I think he'll like choir too, which is Sunday at 4 pm, but he's only been 1 out of 3 times since choir often conflicts with nap time.  I think God understands that Anders needs his naps.
One of the fun things about being a parent is remembering a bunch of stuff I'd forgotten.  For example, I now lay down next to Anders in his bed for five minutes at bedtime.  It seems to help him calm down, refrain from popping out of bed, and ultimately going to sleep. My uncle Fred used this technique when we went down and stayed with him.  Anders holds his poop at school, so when he gets home he has to go, but he needs me to hold his hand.  I used to get my aunt Marilee to hold my hand.  Marilee would amble in, pull up a stool next to me, and then squeeze my hand hard when I needed it.  I know it sounds gross, but it's a really sweet memory that I'm glad I have again.  Halloween also reminded me of how much better today's old people are at giving candy than they were when we were kids in the 80s.  I don't know how many of those orange peanuts, strange wax paper candy, or packages of candy corn I used to get.  Today's old people understand that giving snickers or M&Ms or something of similar high quality is preferred.  I feel like the old people of the 1980s knew their candy was bad, but they gave it anyway because it offered those old folks the opportunity to tell us perplexed trick or treaters how their parents gave them orange candy peanuts as they broke the news of President McKinley's death.
I've rambled long enough.  November in Texas puts me in such a good mood, like May used to back home.      

Labor Day

I normally don't start with Trudy, but she had a moment this weekend.  Saturday night I saw a critter scurry into the corner of the garage so I immediately went to the hardware store.  I asked one guy about rodent traps, then his boss came over.  I was trying to explain Trudy.  If you know Trudy this exchange will not surprise you.

Worker: These traps will catch or at least poison the critter.
Boss: I think the best are the old fashioned traps. You bait it with a little peanut butter, then SNAP!
Worker: Those might not work for his cat.
Boss: You have a cat?  What's the problem?!
Me:  She's not a very smart cat, and would probably hurt herself in a standard trap.
Boss: Man, catching mice or rats or whatever is the ONLY reason I'd have a cat.

So, to sum up, not only does Trudy not catch furry invaders, but we have to take precautions with traps so that she doesn't hurt herself.  I ended up getting the high frequency plug ins to drive the rodents away, presumably to the neighbors' homes.

Anders had a successful first week of Kindergarten.  He still prefers the company of adults, however.  He's taken to saying "hi" to random adults when we are out.  In a more casual setting, like at the swimming pool tonight, he introduces not only himself but me.  So he was wearing his swim fins and goggles when he walked up the off duty lifeguard.
Anders: Hi!  What's your name?
Lifeguard: Paul.  What's your name?
Anders: Anders, and that's my daddy, his name is Jon.

So Anders has really come out of his shell, at least to adults.  He's also taken to sneaking a light on in his room and reading after his bedtime.
He called me a giant yesterday.
I don't think I've written here since we announced Anna's pregnancy.  Anders wants a brother named Anaranjado, Spanish for orange, his favorite color.  We like to call it Jellybean, but Anders also likes Rojo (Spanish for red) as a name. 

Anders likes to pretend he is either a baby bird or a cat. 
He has a really funny singing voice, which he can throw.  He can also fill up a room or a phone call with his singing voice.
I realize that if I continue this blog past February, then I'll have to change its name in fairness to child #2.  I might, however, be too exhausted to ever write here again after he or she is born.  Anna's birthday is tomorrow.  We are really immersed in our 30s now and I don't think we get to turn around and back out!  Ah well, it's not bad, just watch the local news, getting older comes with a real sense of accomplishment.
Happy Labor Day!  Happy Birthday!  I'd say Happy Fall, but by my calculations we are 53 days from what counts as fall down here.

Happy 4th Birthday!

Anders is 4 today.  This reality was starting to settle on me 4 years ago this afternoon. I had been really psyched for Anders to have an October birthday.  The Petersons have at least 4 generations of October birthdays and Anna has a couple in her family too.  It was a small thing that was not to be along with many other bigger things that were not to be.
I finally reached the point in the last 6 months where I wanted time to start slowing down a bit.  Anders is soaring now physically as well as intellectually.  I said when Anders was 0-2 that if you want to slow down time just have a baby, now I'm starting to think that if you want time to go faster have a preschooler.
Anders is just about ready for 3rd grade.  He reads, adds, subtracts, and the other night in the car he was getting a handle on multiplication.  I remember huddling with the smart kids at the end of second grade to learn multiplication before everyone else did in third grade because we were bored in regular math.  I was 8 1/2 at the time, while Anders was just turning 4.
Before you jump to the conclusion that Anders is Rain Man, you need to experience his sense of humor.  He impersonates Anna, me, and his teachers.  He's constantly teasing us.  I know this comes off as bragging, but anyone who spends time with Anders invariably comes at us with the "why didn't you tell us?!" tone.  If anything, I'm still underselling Anders.  I didn't mention the Spanish he's working on, the Dutch alphabet, or the smattering of Swahili words he knows.  If you are still reading, you have probably stopped believing me.  I just hope I'm able to carry on a conversation with him when Anders is 8 1/2!
When we lived in Athens and before friends visited, they'd invariably say that they thought I was drunk on hyperbole when describing how bad it was, but that I'd actually undersold its awfulness.  Now that didn't stop many of them from visiting repeatedly (see: Albers, Brad).  With Anders the inverse is true, I can't adequately communicate how smart he is.  As we've traveled around and visited my family, on a couple of occasions relatives have exclaimed, "He reads!"  Yes, he's been reading since he was 2 and now he reads almost everything.  Again, these are just words on a screen until you spend time with him. 
He saw his first movie in a theatre today, "Despicable Me 2."  He shared his popcorn with me, slipping me pieces (I would not have done that at 24. let alone 4), as he narrated the movie as he would a book he was reading, but needs to find a movie theatre voice because his inside voice is more like this guy: http://www.hulu.com/watch/276438
I was planning on running the Evelopet again for the first time this year, but then I pulled a muscle in my leg, which might be a blessing in disguise as I don't want my participation to trigger the premature birth of any other Nordic Fest Babies.
I looked at the pictures we took on 7-25-09 today and we looked like we had just been told in explicit detail the contents of that hot dog we just ate. 
In some ways it feels like it happened last year, in other ways it feels like 10 years ago.  So much about life changed drastically that year, and then in 2011, that life today might be unrecognizable to 2009 me in some ways, but in other ways it is quite recognizable as we mark time this weekend with another Nordic Fest.
I'm realizing what a big difference it is between one's own birthday and a child's birthday.  When I cared about my birthday, I thought, "Cool, it's my birthday, let's celebrate!"  I imagine my mom had an entirely different set of emotions considering the unique circumstances of my arrival.  Anders gets excited about his birthday 6 months out, and it's just unbridled joy.  I hope he never feels the same sense of fear and exhilaration that I felt on that day. I knew things were going to be okay after I looked into his baby blues, but I also knew that we had thrown the script out the 5th floor window of Fairview Riverside.