I Call Him Dad

My dad taught me how to throw a ball, ride a bike, and use an iron. He took me to my first baseball game, and coached my softball teams and went to my track meets.




He helped me move into my dorm in college and helped me negotiate the price of my first car. He made me feel safe. He helped me appreciate music and taught me to sing in harmony.


He visited me in the hospital, and rigged the radio so I could hear football games. He drove 45 miles in 30 minutes so he and my mom could get to the hospital before their granddaughter was born.

He went with Mike when Maddie was transferred to a different hospital. He supported my husband when he was told Maddie wasn't going to survive.




He painted Maddie's nursery and helped hang her albums. He makes Maddie smile whenever she sees him. He loves her to pieces and she loves him.



Mike is Maddie's favorite person in the whole world. He can't wait to teach her how to throw a ball and ride a bike.





He doesn't know how to iron, but that's okay. He took her to her first baseball game and explained the rules and strategies of the pastime.




He sings her songs and changes her diaper and does it with a smile. He makes Maddie laugh harder than anyone else can.





He has already started explaining guitar chords and Woody Allen and The Blues. He's been taking care of her since I was pregnant.





When the doctors told him Maddie was going to die, he told them to keep fighting. He took care of me when I was on bed rest and held me when I was so scared I couldn't breathe.


He makes us feel safe. He takes Rigby outside every morning and night so I don't have to. He is too good for me.





He makes me laugh harder than anyone else. He'll do anything to make us happy.






Maddie, Rigby and I love him more than anything.








Happy Father's day to the two best men I know. I love you.

The Skinny

check out the previous post to see who won the contest!

Besides obsessing on Madeline's weight, we actually DO have other things going on around this joint. My first Mother's Day as the title character was GREAT. Mike let me sleep all night, and in the morning he brought Maddie in to snuggle with me, which was really nice. While we cuddled and watched Tivo, Mike made me breakfast. Rigby helped him by tangling up his feet and barking and generally being the Worst Dog Ever. But I digress. Mike cracked me up by pretending to be a fancy waiter, coming in and out of the bedroom to ask me my drink preference, etc. When he brought me my breakfast, YUM! He made me a gourmet meal of sour dough toast and an omelette with tomatoes, mushrooms, and goat cheese. And tater tots. I love tater tots!!! The food was amazing.

After I scarfed down breakfast, I opened the presents Maddie, Rigby, and Mike gave me. What, your dog doesn't give you a present? You are seriously missing out. I received a few books I'd wanted, and a bee-yoo-tee-full bracelet that had Maddie's birthstone. AND AND AND- he'd booked me a massage for that morning! He did so good. It was the best morning ever, I didn't want it to end. Especially the part where I was getting massaged.

The rest of the day was spent at my aunt's house, where we ate lots of food, played Scrabble (a family tradition at all gatherings), and opened more presents. Maddie cleaned up, though. Who knew that turning six months old meant you get a grip of gifts? Count me among the ignorant. Anytime Maddie gets thoughtful gifts I am happy, and she got plenty. But I'm ecstatic when Maddie gets more baby legwarmers, especially ones with skulls. Maddie ain't no poseur.

Like I said, Maddie hit the six month mark on Sunday. It blows my mind...the last half-year has been eventful, to say the least. Not to mention the half year leading up to her birth! Her regular check-up with her pediatrician (loooove) was yesterday. Evil forces beyond my control (work) prevented me from attending, so I sent Mike with a bunch of questions. The doctor was pleased with Maddie's development. She is above her adjusted age of 3 1/2 months as far as tracking with her eyes, smiling, interacting, etc. She isn't quite caught up with your average sixth month old when it comes to strength and stuff like that. And obviously, she is insanely tiny. Her doctor said that we don't need to worry about her size as long as she's growing. So thank goodness she finally gained some weight, because she hadn't gained ANYTHING for weeks and weeks. We'll be able to start her on solids like rice cereal at the end of the month, when she hits four months adjusted age (and for all you newbies, her adjusted age is how old she would be if she'd been born on her due date).

I'm trying to look on the bright side - I've gotten a LOT of use out of her newborn size clothes. If I'd known she'd be in it all for so long, I would have bought nicer stuff. No, that's a lie. I just wouldn't have felt like I should be buying HER clothes when I was buying MYSELF clothes!

As I write this, Mike and Maddie are at Evil Doctor Lung's office for, what I am calling, "The Fourth And Final Cystic Fibrosis Test We Will Allow." This is the sweat chloride study, and The Internets tell me it is one of the more accurate ways to diagnose CF. Here's how it works:

I just read that the test should never be performed on the chest to avoid risk of electric shock. DUDE. That is NOT what I needed to read right now. The Internets also tell me it usually takes a day or two for the results to come back. Hopefully that is the case here. I am really ready to put all the CF stuff to rest.

Four Generations of Mothers

In the hallway of my parents' home, there is this framed picture of four generations. My great-grandmother is at the top, my grandmother and mother side by side in the middle, and me, as a seven year old, at the bottom. I remember the day the picture was taken, I was pissed because I'd been forced to curl my hair and wear a dress. My smile is forced and small, the uniqueness of the situation lost on me. I thought everyone had grandmas and great-grandmas. I just wanted to go play outside.

My great-grandmother was born in 1900, an impossibly long ago year to a seven year old. She lived with us from when I was two until the age of nine, when she suffered a stroke that put her medical needs out of reach for my family and she had to move into an assisted living facility. I can't believe she only lived with us for seven years...it really feels like she was always there.

I was eleven when she passed away, and that's when I learned more about her. She'd married my great-grandfather in 1921, had a son the next year and my grandmother in 1924. Six months after my grandma was born, my great-grandfather died, and my great-grandmother had to raise two babies all on her own. My great-uncle had health issues that the doctors said would be cured with warm, dry air, so my great-grandmother packed her two tiny kids into a car, and drove from Ohio to California alone. She didn't know a soul in California. Eventually, members of her family followed her out, but even as a kid I remember being impressed by this. She never remarried. According to my mom, she had many suitors, but her heart belonged to her husband. I wear her wedding band as my own, and sometimes I pull it off my finger and look at the inscription, "T.P.C. to M.M.O. 8-30-21."

My grandmother had hardships, too. She had five children in five years (shudder!), and unfortunately lost one of them to leukemia when he was very young. She raised her other four children on her own (with a little help from my great-grandmother), worked full-time, and still made dinner every night. She lived with us when I was growing up, and taught me how to cook and bake. She was the best listener and was always available to take me to one of my many lessons or practices. When I got older, she let me borrow her car when I couldn't bear the embarrassment of being dropped off by an adult. She always put her family first, and now that I have my own family, I see the sacrifices she made and I'm blown away.

Coming from such an illustrious line of Grandmas, my own mom has some big shoes to fill. She's already been an amazing mom. She was ecstatic when Mike and I told her we were pregnant. When we were told I was going to miscarry, she put her own sadness aside to comfort us. During my prison sentence, I MEAN bed rest, she made the hour drive every other day to give Mike and I emotional support. She'd also walk the dog, clean the house, and make us dinner. She'd help me choke down the nasty hospital food that was enriched with protein and fat (gotta get those 2,500 calories!), and when I was diagnosed with The Diabetes, she would spend hours in the grocery store looking for snacks that would be allowed on my new diet.

When Madeline was born, my mom put her life on hold and stayed with us for two weeks. I needed a lot of attention as I recovered from my c-section and bed rest. She also took care of Mike during those first two terrible weeks, when we never knew what news a ringing phone would bring. The last two times Maddie has been hospitalized, we never would have been able to get through it without my mom. She stayed in the hospital with us when it was allowed, and when it wasn't she'd arrive in Maddie's room at 6 am to relieve me or Mike. She goes on doctor visits and is one of Maddie's fiercest advocates. She's also one of Maddie's favorite people - when my mom walks into the room, Madeline smiles so big I think her face will crack.

With three amazing examples of mothering, I am actually the one with big shoes to fill. Some might be daunted, but I am up to the task. I want to be the best mother ever to this teeny little person. I want to make my mom and my grandmothers proud of me, that all the things they did for me really DID matter. I hope that all their hard work will be reflected in Madeline, and that she'll grow into the incredible person we want her to be.

Happy Mother's Day, Mommy. I love you.

Maddie and the Boys

So far Maddie has slept well in her crib. I put a couple pillows between the mattress and the box spring to prop her head up, since that's what she was used to in the hospital. I did a good job of elevating one end of the crib because when I went in to check on her at one point, she was laying sideways at the lower end of the crib! Whoops. I removed one of the pillows and she has since stayed in place. Mike and I haven't had that hard a time with her in her own bedroom, probably because we are too exhausted to dwell on it. We have a fancy video monitor, so we can always look to see how she's doing. I need to get a picture of Maddie on the monitor - when she's awake, her eyes looks so creepy. Infrared is weird.

She doesn't really like the oxygen at night, but I think that has more to do with the nasal cannula we have to tape to her face than anything else. I had to laugh at Dr. Lung when she said, "she's a baby, she doesn't have the motor skills to grab and pull on her cannula," in reply to our question about taping it to Maddie's face. ALL SHE DOES is pull on it. We bought some paper tape, and luckily before we left the hospital one of the nurses gave us some detachol to help remove adhesive, which really helps.

Mads has been pretty fussy today. Mike and I are about 90% sure she's starting to teethe. She's drooling a lot, cries for no reason, and has the teeny tiniest of fevers (her baseline temp is 97.8, and today she was at 98.8). Her hands are almost always in her mouth, and today I stuck my finger in there to check for teeth only to have her bite down HARD. Poor baby! And poor us...she didn't nap longer than 20 minutes today, so Mike and I didn't get much done. I have about 150 emails that I haven't read yet, thank you notes to write, and people to call back. I apologize to everyone!

Mike's sister, brother in law, and nephews stopped by our place on their way back north from San Diego. Monica and Sheridan finally got to see Maddie outside of a hospital setting, AND they each held her for the first time (all those wires and tubes in the hospital are tricky). Best of all, Maddie and her cousins finally met. Our oldest nephew is three and a half, and has been asking about his cousin "Madawin" for months. Both boys (our younger nephew is 14 months old) came over to me when I was holding Maddie. The younger one stroked her head, while the older one gave her a kiss on the forehead. It was definitely more attention than I expected they'd give her, and also ALL the attention they gave her as Rigby proved far more interesting to them. Poor dog is still traumatized. We did manage to get the boys to sit still long enough for a few photos. This one is my favorite:


I almost hesitate to write this since we've been really jinxed, but tomorrow Mike and I are planning a date night. My mom is coming to watch Maddie while we go to dinner and a movie. We've had plans for us five different times, only to have to reschedule because of Maddie's health. Fingers crossed we make it out tomorrow. We're just following doctor's orders - Maddie's pediatrician (loooove) told us we needed to have a date night. You know I always listen to doctors.

The Kindness of Others

It isn't often that I find myself dumbstruck. I'm usually pretty quick with a comeback, and I definitely fall into the "talkative" category (just ask any of my teachers). But, since my pregnancy got dicey all those months ago, I have found myself speechless countless times thanks to the amazing support we got from so many people. You always hear that when times are tough, your real friends will be there for you. Well, not only were all our friends there for us, but friends of friends, parents, neighbors, coworkers, and cousins of friends of friends were there for us, too. It really was so amazing to us, and almost overwhelming. It's hard for me to put into words how it feels that people I don't even know care about us, and care about my daughter.

I have received countless emails and cards, and I've saved all of them for Madeline to read when she gets older. Our friends that live close by have visited us during our different hospital stays, and those that couldn't have emailed or called. My mom has been at the hospital every day, and we've had to force her to go hom to get rest. There have been offers to walk Rigby, to do our laundry, or do our grocery shopping. I don't even like doing those things for myself!!! Matt & Leslie gave us gift certificates for dinner. Dozens of people have shared stories with me of their similar experiences that ended well. During this hospital stay alone, Maddie has received seven new stuffed animals, 13 balloons, and bunches of cards. Yesterday my friends Bella, Kim, and Leigh added to her collection with a Teddy Bear and clown balloons.

Prayer chains in a handful of different religions are going strong in Maddie's name. One of my favorite bloggers sent all her readers over to lend support. And then today, Maya send over a huge bounty of goodies. Like I said in my email to Maya, the presents are AMAZING, but the thing that really brightens our days is knowing so many people care.

I'm sounding like a broken record here!!! Having a baby in the hospital is hard, but we are lifted up by the support of all of you. Thank you, a million times.

On her eighth birthday, she must choose.

Maddie was born into a rabid baseball family. My parents were kids when the Dodgers moved to LA from Brooklyn. My mom and her sisters used to be driven to games in San Diego and San Francisco by my grandma. My dad went to games with his dad and siblings, and my parents even had some early dates at Dodger Stadium. I don't remember my first baseball game, but I do have a memory of sitting in the Right Field Pavilion at Dodger Stadium with my family. I was wearing a Blue Crew t-shirt and I had a blue megaphone from an old Halloween cheerleading costume. At one point, I stood up and screamed into my megaphone, "GO FERNANDO GO!!!" He wasn't pitching that day. My parents must have been delighted. I watched the 1988 world series with my whole family, and the day after Gibson hit The Home Run, I went to school decked out in home-fashioned Dodger gear (think pieces of paper with the word "Dodgers" written in crayon taped to my clothes). We're a pretty dedicated group of fans.

It's not just my side of the family, though. Mike's dad grew up in The Bronx when New York could boast three storied franchises. Mike's grandpa took his kids to games all the time, and caught the foul ball Bobby Thompson hit just one pitch before his Shot Heard 'Round The World. His dad went to countless Yankees, Dodgers, and Giants games growing up, and after the Dodgers and Giants moved west, he found himself out there soon after. He just settled in the wrong part of California. You see, Mike and his family are Giants fans.

For those of you who don't follow baseball, the Dodgers and Giants are hated rivals. When I first met Mike, the Giants were in the World Series and he was so happy about it. When we went on our first date, they'd lost and I didn't care that he was a hot guy I was attracted to, I ridiculed him mercilessly. I know had the situation been reversed, he would have done the same. We are not mature people, we are sports fans. There were lots of jokes about how we rooted for rival teams and how could we possibly be together, blah blah blah. Mike was just happy to be with a girl that liked baseball, he didn't care that I rooted for the team he once referred to as "pure evil." Of course, now that the Dodgers are responsible for our health insurance and putting food on our table, he refers to them as "slightly evil." It's a small distinction, but important.

Everyone asks, "so, who will Maddie root for?" We take this seriously, of course. So we've set rules. Whenever we go to Dodger games, here or away, Maddie will wear Dodger gear. The exception to this rule is when the Dodgers play in San Francisco. If we go to a game there, Maddie will dress neutrally OR wear her specially made half Dodgers, half Giants onesie. Yes, this may seem slightly unfair, but see that sentence about the Dodgers being responsible for our health insurance and putting food on our table? Dodgers get the edge. If we go to any game where the Giants are not playing the Dodgers, then Maddie will be decked out in the Orange and Black of the Giants. We plan to strictly follow these rules until November 11, 2015, Maddie's eighth birthday. That is the day we have decided that she will be old enough to choose which team she wants to live and die with. I am confident that Maddie will go with the local boys, while Mike is secure that she will choose her father's hometown favorite. Mike has his work cut out for him, though. Can he take her on the field at Phone Company Park, I ask? Can he introduce her to old time greats? She's already met Tommy Lasorda. Did Willie Mays come visit my daughter in the hospital? No.

So, in honor of Opening Day yesterday, let the brainwashing begin! Here is a picture of Maddie and me before I had to go to work yesterday (my boss would murder me if I missed opening day). Doesn't she look cute in her little Dodger shirt?