Where's the camera?!?!

Last night as Tori and I sat watching TV, she let out an exclaim of, "Whoooa!" When I turned to her she informed me that Jack had moved so intensely that she could see him push her stomach out. I spent the next half hour trying to catch him moving, but it was like he knew when I had my head turned away. Tori would go, "Whoa!" I would turn my head back to her belly, and she would say, "Oh, you just missed him again." Then I would stare at her belly for the next minute and Jack would hold still. I would turn back to the TV, and he would move again. Finally, he started moving so often and so vigorously, that I couldn't help but see him move.

I wanted to break out the camcorder because, as I told Tori, these were our baby's first visible movements. For me, this whole experience fluctuates between totally surreal, and so real it is overwhelming. Sometimes, if Tori is bundled up under a blanket on the couch, I will forget that there is a little boy growing in there. But when I think about that fact, I am overwhelmed with joy and anticipation. I just can't wait to meet Jack and to be a Daddy.

Baby's Room

This is what the baby's room looked like before we started working. Notice my weight bench with baby stuff underneath, along with Tori's roller blades and my ab-roller.





I forgot to take a picture of the room before we built the crib. Here is the crib all alone. That's Tori in the corner working on the changing table. Just try to stop her.





Crib and changing table naked. They are treated with different sheens. The colors match, but one is glossier than the other.





Crib fully and appropriately dressed. Apparently it gets embarrassed for pictures, because normally it isn't that red.





The crib and the changing table ready for a night out on the town. Tori is not.






The colors we were deciding between over the crib. We chose the one in the middle. The color of the crib is more accurate in this picture, too.

Happy Turkey Day!

On Wednesday, Tori's mother, Toni, treated us to what's called a 4-D ultrasound of Jack. He refused to put his hands down, like a boxer in a title bout, but they were able to get some very good pictures of his little face. During the process Tori didn't say a word. She stayed glued to the screen while Toni tried to figure out which family members Jack resembles. She says he has my eyes and Tori's nose. All I know is, that kid is adorable and I can't wait to see him on the outside.

This picture gives you the best view of his profile. He has his arm in front of his face, but there is a clear view of his mouth, eye, and nose.

Here is his profile again with his arm in the way a little more.

You can see his muscles in this one and he's really hiding his face.

His lips are a little blurred, but this is by far the clearest view of his face. He's got his left hand up above his eye in a very dramatic pose. Hopefully he hasn't inherited his daddy's penchant for the dramatic.

Tori and I have been attending our Bradley Method classes. I am getting really anxious for him to get here. I know that Tori will be amazing and I hope that I am able to give her exactly what she needs in that time. This is really an exciting time. Ted and Michelle have a beautiful baby girl, Ellie. Cesca and Dan have a beautiful baby boy, Alex. And Andy and Jennifer just welcomed baby Olive into the world. All of these friends for Jack to play with! Not only are we starting a family, but all of our best friends are starting their own families as well! So much to be thankful for.

Belly & Bedroom Pics

Well, we finally got some pictures taken of my big baby belly and I figured I'd take some of our wild decor while I was at it.
The below picture is the mobile of "ugly dolls". I referred to them as cute monsters, but was corrected by my sister who was corrected by a terrified child of a friend when she said "Oh you have monster dolls on your bed!"

This is our knit giraffe, who was the color palette inspiration for the room, and not an easy color palette for baby decor to find, so I was stoked when I found it!

This is the bedding, ugly doll mobile, and knit dolls

Here's my big belly at 27 weeks!

More belly...

And more belly

We have our 4D ultrasound scheduled for next week, just before Thanksgiving, so we'll post the up close and personal pics of our cute little guy. Hopefully he gives us some cute face, hands and feet shots...but that boy just loves to throw his junk up in front of the ultrasound scope, apparently he's quite proud of his manly anatomy.

No barking from the dog, no smog...

In the immortal words of that legendary poet, Ice Cube, "Today was a good day." We had a follow up appointment with our doctor, Dr. Marshall. Tori, Toni, and I all went. The purpose of our visit was to see if any of the potential problems that arise from STS Deficiency were present. He took a detailed ultrasound of Jack to look for a cleft palate or lip, undescended testicles, or stunted growth. As we all hoped, everything looked normal. More than normal. Perfect. His head, arms, and body are slightly ahead of his due date and his legs were a bit behind (all perfectly normal). There is no sign of a cleft lip or palate. We got to clearly see his nose and lips from underneath. He hasn't been born yet and we've already checked for boogies. As far as the undescended testicles or hypogonadism (disproportionate penis and testicles), well...um...everything is...where it should be. 10 fingers. 10 toes. And one giant head. Sorry mommy.

The highlight of the appointment was when Dr. Marshall zoomed in on Jack's profile. He's beautiful. He's perfect. He was sucking on his wrist at first, and then he stopped. Almost like he new there were pictures being taken. For the second time I was moved to tears by images of my son in grainy black and white. This time for different reasons. I hadn't realized it but I had been really nervous for the appointment and what we might see. Tori was completely confident that Jack was fine, but I had a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me all of the things I should have been worrying about. When I saw that beautiful profile, I started to well up.

When the sonogram ended, we had a chance to ask Dr. Marshall some questions. He is so kind and reassuring, he makes us feel like everything will be just fine. I had a list of questions that I had plugged into my phone during our Bradley Method class two weeks ago, and he answered all of them calmly and assuredly. Toni told him how happy we were that he was our doctor, and he thanked her so earnestly it was kind of moving. Everything he said today was exactly what we wanted to hear. We feel lucky to be in such capable hands.

As we walked to the car I once again became overwhelmed with emotion. I was so happy. Relieved. Overjoyed. Tori saw the look on my face, and said, "See. I told you he is going to be fine." For the first time since we started getting the negative news, I really believe it. Today was a good day.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Jack Marchese Blum!

Here is Jack sucking his hand or wrist. He is facing up and this is his profile.





Here is Jack sucking his wrist again.





Here he is. He is pulling the hand away. What a beautiful boy!!

Updates

I know it has been a while since I posted a blog. All is going well. Our little man, Jack Marchese Blum, has been kicking up a storm. At our last appointment with our Midwife Nurse, he kicked the heart monitor off of Tori's stomach twice. We have, obviously, settled on a middle name: Marchese. It is a way to carry on Tori's family's name, and it sounds awesome. Tori has been doing very well. Acupuncture has been helping the pain she was feeling in her hands. She is at 6 months and is starting to have a hard time tying her shoes and other similar activities.

We are more than excited for this little guy to come into the world. I held our nephew Alex for a while on Friday night and it was amazing. I can't imagine what that will feel like when it is our son in our arms.

Long time, no blog...(is it bad to use it as a verb?)

Sorry for the lack of updates. These are exciting times. Tori and the baby are progressing beautifully. The biggest drama for Tori right now is that her massive collection of shoes no longer fits her feet. We got the results of my blood tests (all clean) and Tori's. We found out that Tori is a carrier for the deletion that is present in the baby's chromosomal makeup. Although it is not an indication of anything definite, we have found a sense of encouragement in the idea that this may have been in the family for a while. There is a chance that other men in Tori's family have this same deletion and have not shown any serious side effects. Although we are staying cautious (I would say "realistic", but Tori did go to a doctor who talked to the baby), we are extremely optimistic. I feel a little silly for dragging so many people along on the roller coaster that has been this pregnancy. For this I humbly apologize. I guess this is the drawback of having a blog.

We have been attending our Bradley Method classes for the past three weeks. Tori and I are intent on having an all natural childbirth. Like Tori said in her post, Cesca's impressive showing with baby Alex seems to have fortified this desire in both Tori and I. The classes make for long Tuesdays (class ends at 9:30) but it has been beyond informative. This seems to be the most important aspect of The Bradley Method. Information gives the mother the power to overcome any anxiety about the idea of pushing a bowling ball out of her body. I'm just glad to be "coach" and not "playing" this game.

To show our progress, Tori and I have been calling the baby (rarely) by his future name, "Jack". I feel hesitant to do so because of how complicated everything has been so far. And we have been in...um...negotiations about his middle name. I am so happy we had his name picked out before we conceived because trying to think up a name is really hard. I can't imagine trying to wait until after he was born. I am pushing for awesome things like "Han" and "Yoda" but Tori will have none of it. This is a negotiation I will be happy to lose.

Thank you to all who have shown us love and support. We feel honored to have such caring people as our friends and family.

What a week!

Oh boy, so much excitement in the last week! We kicked off the week with the long awaited (according to my sister's uterus!) arrival of Baby Alex. Francesca and Dan welcomed their little boy Monday night after 2 weeks of labor -2 weeks!! Cesca started labor on Monday Sept 21st, having on/off contractions (not Braxton-Hicks, the real deal) for 2 weeks desperately trying to get the show on the road. Finally it picked up steam this Monday Oct 5th as she checked into the hospital at night dilated to 8cm. Dan, my mom, and I all had front row seats of Alex's arrival as we were her "birthing support system" or so the nurse named us. Dan and my mom were more hands on helping to support her during the physical feat of pushing during the contractions, as I stood by the doctor videotaping (waist-up, as she wasn't up for sharing that view with anyone) witnessing the coolest science experiment of my life. She was awesome, did it all natural Bradley Method birthing (that's no drugs for those not familiar) and it was amazing! Everyone keeps asking me if she was screaming, and are then completely shocked when I tell them she was totally calm and in control of the situation. What an inspiration!

Little Alex was not so little weighing in at 8lbs 1 oz and 21 inches and a sturdy little man. From the time his whole head came out followed by the rest of his body was probably only about 3 seconds, and I haven't watched the video yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm screaming "Oh my god! How is that coming out of you?? There's so much of him!!!"

They're all doing great as Alex is getting adjusted to his new home and Cesca and Dan are loving this little bundle of cuteness that has stolen their hearts. We still can't quite figure out who he looks like, but he keeps changing every day. Cesca and I had a good laugh today about the below picture because we think he looks like a nun in a habit wrapped up in his blanket...ah Catholic School humor.

We haven't had any recent blogs updating our most recent test findings last Wed Sept 30th with our little Baby Bug, but lots of you have been given verbal or email updates. For those out-of-the-loop, after receiving the results that Smith-Lemli-Optiz came back negative, they were testing to see if he had Steroid Sulfatase Deficiency (or it's more common named X-Linked Ichthyosis, a skin condition) or any other chromosomal defect to explain my low hormone levels from the original test.

As it turns out, our Little Bug has been diagnosed with Steroid Sulfatase Deficiency which means there is a deletion of a gene on his X Chromosome. Since he is a "he" meaning he gets an "X" chromosome from mom and a "Y" chromosome from dad and he has a deletion on his "X" chromosome it is most likely a recessive defect mom has passed onto baby. Only men have this disease and only women are carriers. There is a 50% chance that mom will pass her good healthy X chromosome onto the baby and the other half of the time she'll pass her bad recessive carrier X chromosome (confused by the science class talk yet?). Usually this defect is visually detectable in families as the men have obvious flaky, scaly skin conditions, but since my maternal side of the family has so few men (who's skin all appears normal) we couldn't make a solid assessment either way. There is the second possibility that this was a mutation that occurred all on it's own in the baby's developmental process due to external or environmental factors, having nothing to do with my genes. A blood test was ordered for me to see if I am a carrier last Thursday, which we still haven't gotten the results for.

Getting back to this deletion, or missing piece, which contain proteins and enzymes that make your skin function correctly. Since he's missing those necessary proteins and enzymes he can develop a skin condition which causes the skin cells to build up, instead of sloughing off, creating a thick scaly appearance. It can be remedied with different treatments and creams, and being the expert esthetician I am, I have quite the toolbox of goods for fixing skin problems so that wasn't much to be concerned about. Our biggest concern was that if the deletion was so large it could include more serious symptoms such as hormonal imbalances or mental retardation. However the testing available to the geneticists through the amniotic fluid is not enough to determine the severity of the deletion just the fact that there is indeed a deletion, thereby leaving us with a myriad of questions and no answers. The only test available to determine the severity of deletion is a blood test which is performed once the baby is born. This high level of uncertainty left us in an abysmal state, deciding whether or not to take the risk carrying to full term or to terminate the pregnancy.

After several more days of diligent research into the matter, I deduced the size of the deletion did not have a direct correlation to the severity of the symptoms (meaning a full deletion of the gene does not necessarily have more severe symptoms than a partial deletion). If the deletion extends beyond gene Xp22.3 (our gene marker in question) to neighboring genes along the X chromosome, then the deletions of those surrounding genes are what contribute to the hormonal imbalances and/or mental retardation (Sorry, again with the over explanation on the science talk). From what our pediatric geneticist feebly explained to us (she was not as helpful as our first geneticist Stephanie), it was just this genetic marker Xp22.3 we had to worry about, not the surrounding ones. She told us that all her patients who presented with this defect had babies who solely had skin issues which cleared-up within a few months and showed no more symptoms after. She had heard of more severe cases, but never seen them. Yet she also told us that hormonal issues and mental retardation were possibilities. Maybe it's a legal disclosure, but certainly not a comforting one.

We were starting to think positively that maybe the baby would be ok. I had gotten a couple referrals from trusted friends and clients to contact a homeopathic doctor and psychic (go ahead and laugh if you want, I don't care) who had proven wildly helpful and reliable for them in the past. I went and saw the homeopathic doctor this Wed Oct 7th. He uses a form of homeopathic medicine called muscle testing. If you're unfamiliar with it, the way it works is you hold your middle and thumb fingers together making a circle. When your body is telling the truth you can keep that circle tightly closed, when it's not he can break the fingers open. He went through a series of questions deciphering the severity of the condition, what it was related to, if I was a carrier, etc. And since the baby's body is connected to mine, my body can answer for his (it's all very metaphysical and cool). Anyways, he could determine that I was indeed not a carrier. That this was a pathogen or bacteria that had entered the baby's system (possibly by me being exposed to something during the pregnancy) disrupting the normal balance of what's needed for all systems to function properly. He could determine it was 15% deficient needing only one dosage to bring all levels back up to 100% fully functioning. As he explained it, Western medicine only goes so far in the treatment process, treating the symptoms instead of the problem. His philosophy is to treat the root of the problem and correct and re-balance the body, which totally makes sense to me. So he gave me 1 dosage which was this little crystal ball that dissolved in my mouth. I don't know what it was and frankly I don't care. I am to go back in 3 weeks and he'll check in with our bodies and see if everything is up to snuff. My visit was $50, but I would have gladly written the check for $500 for the peace of mind this visit gave me.

So I end my long-winded explanation in conclusion that we have decided to continue with the pregnancy despite the risks associated with the diagnosis. Mainly because I don't feel there are risks at this point. I have complete faith in my homeopathic doctor that he will balance out any deficiencies in the baby in a natural and safe method if needed, ya know like if my magic dissolving crystal ball didn't do the trick. And if I have any other worries I do have the psychic's number for back up...

Daddy's Perspective

It's funny how when something bad happens that is completely out of your control, you find anything you can to blame. When the news about our baby came in, I blamed this blog. I blamed myself for creating this blog. And for telling so many people. I'm not a religious man, but I am very superstitious (anyone who was with me during the '94 NFC Playoffs or the '02 World Series can attest to that, and I am sorry if I yelled at you for changing positions in the room). I felt that I had somehow jinxed everything by celebrating too early. I know it sounds crazy, but it's how I felt. I know that we are not in the clear yet, and I hope this doesn't jinx anything, but I want to write about how I am feeling.

When that call came in, it seemed as though it was a call I had been dreading my whole life. I have always worried that I wouldn't be strong enough to be the parent of a special needs child. My classroom is directly across a driveway from a school for special needs children. I see their parents drop them off in the morning, and I know that even that can take tremendous effort. I have always admired those parents and questioned my own ability to handle that kind of lifestyle. Anyway, back to the call. I was surprised by myself. I was confident and sure. I helped take care of Tori as she sobbed into my chest. I wasn't numb. I wasn't confused. I knew what I had to do in that moment. I had to be strong for my family. I have never felt more like a man.

I was surprised again when we saw our son's (still feels weird saying it) little...um...thing. I have always been sure that I would have only daughters. I have never imagined what it would be like to raise a son. I was fully prepared in that moment when they showed us the sex of the baby to celebrate that we were having a baby girl. When we found out that we will be having a boy, everything flipped around and swirled in my head. I saw his whole life as it related to me, playing out in my mind. It happened in a flash, but it changed this whole thing for me. I saw him taking his first steps, saying his first words, teaching him how to play baseball and, for some reason, especially football. Tori bought this great football chair and I could see him sitting there next to his daddy watching football on Sundays. And then I remembered that that little boy in there with the perfect looking head, heart, feet and hands might not make it. I was so happy and so distraught in that moment, I thought my heart might give out.

When the next call came in, saying that the test came back normal, all of those images of his life came rushing back. This time, however, I was in front of my 4th period English class. (They immediately planned a baby shower when I told them the news) As the time has gone on, I am getting more used to the idea of having a boy, but I don't know if it will fully set in until we know all of the tests have been done.

Tori has been great and we are feeling very hopeful and optimistic right now. We are trying to stay realistic and remember that we are not out of the woods yet, but we have been laughing and that is the sign to me that things have gone back to normal (somewhat). We have put the finishing touches on the apartment (no more boxes in the living room and the baby's room is somewhat cleared out so that I can use it as my workout room in the morning) and it is starting to feel like home even more.

Probably the second most exciting news aside from the test results is that our little "bug" as Tori has begun to call him has started kicking. Kicking isn't really the word for it actually. It's more like fluttering. And I have even felt the little flutters. Apparently he doesn't like it when his mommy does crunches. It is starting to feel very real now, and I have never felt more ready. I know now that I can be strong for my family. That I am a man.

Good News

We got some good news today! Stephanie our geneticist called with results from Baltimore regarding the Smith-Lemli-Opitz Syndrome, which was our biggest concern. The test came back normal, over 99% accurate that he does not have this disease, so we are thrilled.

They still have more tests to run to rule out any other disorders which may explain why my UE3 hormone level was low (which was the indicator for Smith-Lemi-Opitz). Basically they will go over his chromosomes with a fine tooth comb and look for any mutations to explain the original positive test result. We should have all the remaining test results by the end of next week, but for now so far so good.

Thanks so much to everyone for the positive energy you've been sending our way. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for one more week in hopes that the other results are as good!

Highs and Lows

The week started out bubbling over with excitement. We had our appointment to find out the sex of the baby and we could hardly contain our anticipation of finding out. Everyone was so vehemently opinionated...mostly leaning toward a girl, but there were a few holding strong for a boy. Wednesday was only a day away, just 24 hours to go when my cell phone rang. It was Kaiser. The serum integrated blood test done in both the 1st and 2nd trimester screenings had come back positive. "Positive for what?" I asked. "I don't know, just positive. It's very important you keep your ultrasound appointment for tomorrow and go straight to the genetics department afterward so they can explain what the positive means and what your options are" she said. Luckily Dave hadn't left for work yet and I could crumble into a bucket of tears on his chest while he stayed strong and let me sob. We looked through the booklets on the testing to figure out what the possibilities were of a positive test result...all were bleak. Mostly some form of mental retardation and/or severe physical ailments and handicaps. We figured best to go to work and distract our minds from this news, especially as we didn't know what exactly was wrong and it would do us no good to sit around and let our imaginations run wild.

Wednesday morning arrived and the joyful anticipation of finding out the sex was replaced by the sobering anticipation of finding out the genetic defect. I'd cried myself out Tuesday so when Wednesday came I could effectively remove myself emotionally from the situation to actually find out on a scientific level what was wrong. I went back alone with the ultrasound tech to take all the measurements. Everything went very well, good strong heartbeat, all the measurements were absolutely perfect, few days ahead of schedule big head and belly, right on schedule arms and legs. I could kind of see the screen at different angles and I asked at one point if that was its face and arms. It looked like it was riding a roller-coaster with it's arms thrown up overhead going "Wheee!" It was not, and the tech laughed and said he could see why I thought that, but it would have been really funny if it was (the child would definitely be taking after it's mother not father). After all the measurements were done he went out and brought Dave and my mom back in so we could all see the baby. He got a good profile view of the little bug snuggled up. Pressing good and hard with the ultrasound hand piece against my 40 oz full-of-water bladder this little bug did a flutter kick push off and started running. I mean running, these little legs were moving! He moved the ultrasound around up under the cute little feet and toes, right up the bum shot and boom there's our little man's chunk of junk...it's a boy. A boy who looks perfectly healthy yet in 20 mins we'll find out what's wrong with him.

After the bittersweet excitement of the ultrasound we marched across the street to the Genetics Dept and met Stephanie our genetics counselor. She was amazing and explained everything they test for and what it means. Everything came out normal except for 1 level was extremely low which is indicative of Smith-Lemli-Opitz Syndrome. What? we all thought to ourselves, what is that? Down syndrome we knew, Trisomy 13 and 18 we became familiar with, but Smith-Lemli-Opitz we had no idea. She explained how it was an extremely rare disease where the baby doesn't produce cholesterol which leads to moderate to severe mental retardation, kidney failure, cleft palate, physical handicaps...basically just bad all around. Both Dave and I have to be carriers for this to have passed on, which is very odd because it is such a rare disease and our parents don't know of anyone in the family having this. According to the numbers there is a 1 in 17 chance that the baby has this disease. There is also a hopeful chance that absolutely nothing is wrong. We scheduled an amniocentesis, that I had performed this afternoon, to do further tests. The amniocentesis can decipher with 99% accuracy whether or not this really is Smith-Lemli-Opitz. The doctor who performed the amniocentesis was very sweet and walked us through the entire procedure of poking my belly with a huge needle to suck out some amniotic fluid. It went great, didn't hurt at all just a bit of pressure. Luckily the baby was very cooperative and stayed way over to the left side of my belly while Dr. Marshall poked the right side of my belly to suck out the amniotic fluid. After taking enough fluid for testing he ran the ultrasound back over my belly to look at the baby. He looked perfectly fine and healthy and completely unaware a needle had just violated his home and sucked out a few vials of his pee and shed skin cells (apparently that's what amniotic fluid is made of, very fancy indeed). And then he spun around and gave us a nice crotch shot, and Dr. Marshall went "yep definitely a boy!" Dave seems quite proud of his boy's penis by the way. I don't know if it's that or just that he's so excited or surprised it's a boy. After we finished the appointment Dave asked Dr. Marshall how often with Smith-Lemli-Opitz the results come back as a false positive. His answer was hopeful and funny because basically he just reworded what we heard yesterday but it sounded completely different. He said, I can give you an exact number. 16 out of 17 times it will be a false positive because there is only a 1 in 17 chance it's positive, so let's stay hopeful you're part of the 16. Anyway, it takes about 2-3 weeks to get the results from the amnio. The sample has to be sent to Baltimore for testing as they are the foremost authority on Smith-Lemli-Opitz Syndrome. Most likely they won't receive the sample til Tue, so 2 weeks from there should take us to about a 3 week waiting period total. We're doing okay after a few days of being able to process the news. We're staying hopeful, especially since seeing the very healthy ultrasound and hearing about lots of people who've had false positives. But we are cautiously hopeful and very much aware that this little bug may just not be meant to be. So with that we have a long 2 weeks ahead of us and we'll just have to wait and see.

Thank you to all who've sent your love and support.

Damn you Verizon!

Last week I wrote that I would have an update after our doctor's appointment. That was before Verizon shut down our internet (which just came back up). The appointment went very well. We met our midwife and heard the baby's heartbeat. Everything looks good so far. The real news is that on Wednesday, we find out the baby's gender. Luckily, we are furlowed that day and I will have no problem being there. So look for an update on Wednesday and possibly a mass text as soon as we know.

Tori has been doing well. Her hands and feet have been hurting and occasionally her pre-natal vitamins make her sick, but for the most part she has been doing well. The move went well (except for the week without internet and the loss of our Tivo). The apartment is beautiful, although it is still a work in progress. The baby's room (I love saying that) is currently where everything we don't know what to do with yet is being housed. We had to make an Ikea run to get furniture to fit our new apartment, but it is super classy. And we got a new Tivo that is better than the old one, so no real loss there. Possibly the best feature of our new apartment is that the air circulates without the need for fans. Our old apartment necessitated a ceiling fan and two oscillating fans and it still felt like an oven in the late afternoon. We get very little direct sunlight, but we have more than twice as many windows, so the apartment has been staying nice and cool in this Indian summer heat. The new address is 120 Grand Ave, Apt 304, Long Beach, CA 90803.

The school year is gearing up (a week earlier than I had anticipated) and I am starting to feel the pressure. I had a bit of a minor meltdown on Thursday when I was told that I would have to "roam" to different classrooms to teach my English classes. With the help of the ever-practical Joe Svoboda I solved that problem, so there was no major meltdown. I start directing "David and Lisa" the story of two mentally disturbed teenagers who fall in love next week. It will be the only play I direct this year in preparation for Peanut's grand entrance. Wow. This may be the last blog where the baby is known as Peanut...

It's been awhile...

Tomorrow is our next baby appointment. Not much to report since the last one. Tori is doing spectacularly well. She has tons of energy (I'll spend more on this later) and her spirits have been very high. The heat has been hard on her and hasn't helped the swelling of her hands and feet that come with pregnancy. The other night her wedding rings got stuck. It was like a bad 80's sitcom. At least it wasn't a borrowed ring. And there wasn't any Crisco.

I have, however, gone back to work. I reveled in the applause my students gave me when they saw my updated power point presentation that introduces me to my classes. There was a new addition that pointed to a picture of Tori's belly and said, "Our baby." That was a great feeling. Aside from us and our family, my students will be the ones most effected by our new child. I spend more time with my students than I do with anyone besides Tori. I told them that the happy expression they were seeing on my face would be much different come February/March when I'm not sleeping and all I want to do is spend time with my new baby. They laughed...I guess they thought I was kidding.

This weekend will be when we move into our new two-bedroom apartment on the third floor. Of course we are smack-dab in the middle of an epic heat wave. We have actually already started the move. Last weekend we spent the day loading up the hand-truck, furniture dollies, and shopping carts with all of the flotsam and jetsam that is usually the last thing you move. Our goal is to have all surfaces cleared and all of the nooks and crannies (boy, lots of antiquated sayings in this post) emptied so that when everyone comes on Saturday (amazing friends and family) to help us move, they won't have to help us with that crap and can just help me move the fridge, couch, bed, etc. I hope to keep Tori from doing anything, but that may prove to be as fruitful as trying to hold back a tidal wave with a bamboo umbrella. It is fun to think that we are about to move into our baby's first home. And, although we have lived together in many other places, I suppose it will be our first home as a family.

Family. That is the part of this thing that I find the most bamboozling (you didn't think I could work that word in, did you?). We are starting a family. It isn't just a child, it is the start of a generation. Count me...bamboozled.

New Pictures of "Peanut"

Here are the newest pictures of "peanut". The top picture is head on, with the head on the left. The bottom picture is a profile with the head on the left. I think the bottom picture is really clear, but Tori says you can't really see anything. I may just be seeing what I want to see.

2nd Doctor's Visit

On this past Tuesday, Aug. 4th, Tori and I had our second doctor's appointment. We were mainly there to hear the baby's heartbeat. There were some other tests that they wanted to run, but we thought we were just going to hear the heartbeat. Little did we know, they would be letting us see our baby for the second time. Our doctor put the little wand on Tori's belly, and there it was: our child. It looked like a clear profile and I let out an "Ohhhh!" and Tori sat up to see the picture I was looking at, which caused the image of the baby to be lost. The doctor told her that she needed to lay down while the doctor had the wand on her and she would take some still images that Tori could look at. The doctor found the baby again and I swear the baby waved its little arm at me. Again, I made some sort of noise, and Tori sat up in response. Again, the image was lost.

I felt bad for Tori because I was getting to see it all in real time. The baby looked like it was moving around (by the way, too early to be able to tell the sex) and it was the first time that it really hit me that we were growing more than a peanut in there. It was a little person who had arms and legs and hands and feet...and it waved at me! But poor Tori had to lay there, still, while I stood there saying "Wow!" It was like when you're in a crowded bar and there's a TV behind you and the person you are talking to is watching it over your head and keeps saying "Whoa! Look at that!" And everytime you turn around to see what they were talking about, it's gone. Only, it was the baby that is growing in her belly.

Who says...

You can't go home again? This past weekend, Tori and I drove up to the Bay Area. We took 101, because it is pleasant. Anyone who has done the drive from Southern California to Northern California, or vice versa, knows that I-5 is horrendous. Straight, hot, and stinky (Coalinga: where odors are born, and people die!). 101 is curvy, beautiful (you actually drive alongside the ocean for some time), and much cooler (the thermometer in my car hit 90 degrees at the hottest part of the day as opposed to the 105 it would have hit on I-5). Plus, you get to drive through San Francisco and across the Golden Gate to get to Mill Valley.

We got to my dad's house in the late afternoon where I was practically shoved out of the way by my stepmother so that she could give the pregnant mommy a big hug. ("Hello David, you look well...OH MY GOD, TORI!!!! HIIIII!!!!) Any current or expectant father knows that this is the drill. No need to take it personally. In fact, I enjoy it. It reminds me of our wedding. (How often do you see a picture of the groom by himself?) We had a lovely meal at Piatti in Mill Valley. Great Italian food overlooking the water with a view of Mt. Tam. Tori and I split a meal. (I'm waiting while those who know our eating habits get up after falling out of their chairs) Dad and Mona went out dancing at a nightclub that has only had two or three murders take place outside of it, so we knew they were safe.

The next day we went to the farmer's market at the Civic Center in San Rafael. Then we went and saw the new Buell residence and the newest Buell resident. BABY ELLIE!!! What an adorable baby! She is adorable. It was strange, and surprisingly comfortable, to see Ted and Michelle as parents. (How bizarre to see Teddy Buell holding his daughter in one hand while offering me a beer with the other.) We walked to the deli and got lunch and went back and sat in the Buells' yard and ate. When I was done eating, they passed me the baby.

Now, I was seven when my sister Ashley was born, and eight when Andy's sister, Jessica and my cousin, Ben were born. I know that I held all of them when they were babies and I never felt nervous about it. I was extremely confident. However, in the past few years, anytime I have held a baby (and that was rarely), they immediately began to cry. It had gotten to the point where I felt like Lennie from Of Mice and Men anytime I came near a newborn. ("I just want to touch them with the fingers") So I pretended that I was confident and took my best friend's beautiful, healthy, newborn baby daughter in my arms.

She didn't cry! Almost immediately, the middle of my back started to hurt. I really need to do some crunches and work on my core so I can be ready for fatherhood. Ellie is a "lounger". She spreads out when you hold her, so her left arm was flopped out. I felt a little like I was doing something wrong, but Ted and Michelle just laughed and said that's what she does. Then she did this breathing thing that made me worry. When I said, "Is that normal?" Ted was able to immitate it exactly from across the table, which let me know she does it all the time. Eventually I relaxed and started to enjoy it. I felt a bit of a bond forming between Ellie and her old uncle Dave. If I can feel a bond with her, I can't wait to meet my baby. When I finally gave her up, I attempted to straighten out my left arm. It felt like I had just finished doing about 10 million curls. I really need to start working out. Oh yeah, and I forgot the camera.

That night my mother arranged for us to have the patio at D'Angelo's for dinner. We had about fifteen people there. My mother and stepfather, my stepbrother, Chris and his wife, Carol. My stepcousin (if that's a thing), Sarah and her son Ryan and her boyfriend. My Aunt Regina and Uncle Bob who live in China were there. As well as my mom's friends Bob and Karen. Also in attendance were Nick and Lisa Woods, my friends from high school, and their son Quinton. Little Q stole the night. He is 2 1/2 years old and one of the funniest little kids anyone will ever meet. This was our second time meeting Q, and he didn't remember us. At first he was very shy and even a little grouchy, but soon he warmed up and charmed our end of the table. He seemed to be especially fascinated by Tori. Personally, I think he was trying to make a move on my woman. When he looked across the table at me and said, "Dave! Hi, Dave!" my heart just about melted. It was a great night. Oh yeah, and I forgot the camera.

The next night, Tori and I went to the Giants' game. We had bought Ted and Michelle's tickets for that night and Tim Lincecum was pitching. It was a classic San Francisco night. Cold, windy, foggy. Beautiful. Lucky for us, it was the fastest baseball game I have ever seen in person. The official time on the game was 2 hours and 5 minutes. But about fifteen minutes was wasted waiting for the mound to be fixed. Before the game, there was a moving memorial for Sue Burns, the majority owner of the team. Barry Bonds was there, and his body and cranium have shrunken back to human size. He got a standing ovation just as we were getting to our seats. It was a great game and we were sitting with real fans. We stood for the entire ninth inning. I wish our little peanut could have seen it. But peanut was there. Oh yeah, and I forgot the camera.

A Quick Update

Although nothing momentous has taken place in the past week, I feel compelled to keep everyone updated. Everything is still great. Tori has felt really good this week. In fact, the one aspect of pregnancy that seemed to plague her the most, fatigue, seems to be easing up. She has been staying up later and it has been days since she has fallen asleep on the couch in the living room.

To give it some context, in recent weeks I have found Tori asleep in bed with the light on and a book propped on her chest. More spectacularly, Tori fell asleep last week while watching "So You Think You Can Dance". Even more impressive, she fell asleep while fast-forwarding through the commercials. That is comparable to Gabe Freiberg's patented fall-asleep-mid-sentence move. Not only did she fall asleep while she was operating the remote, she did it more than once. If there were gold medals for falling asleep, Tori would have won at least two in the past few weeks.

The let up in fatigue seems to be attributable to the fact that Tori is moving toward her second trimester. Time seems to be flying by. It feels like it was just yesterday that I was accidentally telling Kathy Flanagan-Egan that Tori was pregnant. Suddenly, 9 months isn't seeming so long.

We will be heading to the Bay Area this coming weekend to see the family and some of our friends. We are anxious to meet baby Ellie Buell. That seems to be the main focus of this trip. No offense to everyone else, but, as you might imagine, Tori is a little baby-crazy right now. Soon after, we will take a day trip down to San Diego for more time with family. And a little beach time. Then, before you can say "school's out for summer", I'll be back at work.

Movin' on up...to the north side (of the building)

Since Tori and I moved in to our current one-bedroom apartment, we have always held to the idea that we could stay here when our first child was born. We have an enormous living room and an enormous bedroom. We were certain that we could fit a young child in the apartment with us. In the six months leading up to us getting pregnant, it felt like every two-bedroom apartment was available for rent. We didn't really consider any of them. Tori would go look at them, but Tori loves to look at any vacant housing. We never seriously talked about moving. We didn't want to move. We love our apartment and we hate moving even more. Hate. Loathe. Despise.

When Tori got pregnant, we didn't really talk about moving. People asked us if we would move, and we stuck to our old answer. On the inside, however, we were both having the same thought, "How are we going to fit a kid in here?" Less importantly, we also were both thinking, "Too bad we won't be able to decorate a baby room." Then one night, as can only happen when you are laying in bed waiting to fall asleep, we had the same thought at the same time. I think Tori started to ask me if we should talk to the landlord about getting a two-bedroom and before the sentence was out of her mouth, I said "Yes".

Now it was time to feel stupid. We had let the opportunity slip away. Not only had most of the two bedrooms opened up, but the best two bedrooms. There are 30 units in our building. Many people have been here for years and years. We did not know when another two bedroom would open up, and if it would be before we had the baby, or when Tori was too pregnant to help move, or if it would be two years down the line. Well, ten days ago, we found out that a two bedroom was opening up at the beginning of August. So Tori and I will be moving in mid to late August or early September. But there is no hurry. Isn't it nice how things work out that way? It will feel a little silly moving all of our stuff 50 feet. Now Tori gets to decorate a baby room.

Our Little Smurf

Today we went to Kaiser for our second appointment. It couldn't come fast enough. Two weeks ago Tori wanted to know the sex of the baby, which we won't find out for months. We were extremely anxious to get a chance to see our little "peanut" as I have been calling the baby. There were some tests to run, and then, there it was...our little peanut. Or smurf as my sister-in-law, Cesca called it. A healthy heartbeat. Healthy size: 2.24 cm. About the size of a peanut without the shell. Tori got out a ruler when we got home. The original due date was February 15. They gave us a new date of Feb 18 today based on the measurement of the baby. I like February 15 better. Closer to Valentine's Day. Wouldn't that be a lovely gift?

In the picture above, the baby is on the right. We're pretty sure that the head is pointed up. The dotted line is what they used to measure the length of the baby from crown to rump.

Mommy and Daddy Class

We had our first visit to Kaiser since the good news. It was like a pre-natal class or seminar. I was one of two future fathers there. There were probably eight or nine expectant mothers. They sat us in a classroom and started out by telling us all of the things that could potentially be wrong with the baby. It was, to say the least, shocking. I guess they wanted us to be prepared. Maybe they could have said some things that could have been right with the baby, too? Like, "they may just grow up to be a professional athlete" or "your baby might come out ready to walk and talk immediately". I don't know. Something to keep us optimistic. Needless to say, I gave myself four heart-attacks and a stroke worrying about all of the potential health issues and how I would deal with them. As you may know, my life strategy, instead of "let's cross that bridge when we get to it" is "let's worry so much about what will happen when we get to the bridge that we give ourselves ulcers and have to stop travelling."

When we had a chance to talk to a nurse one-on-one (well, one-on-two) she put all of our worries to rest. She was great. In fact, everyone was pretty great. Even the woman who took seven thousand blood samples from Tori was great. I started to really feel ready to be a father. More than ready. Excited. Elated. Ecstatic. And, of course, I know that I have such a great partner to go through this with, that no matter what happens, everything will be just fine.

HOLY....!

Once Tori and I had gotten the "official" word from Kaiser that Tori was actually pregnant, we wanted to tell some people. The two most important people were our mothers. So we headed over to Tori's mother's house to let her know. We walked in, and after about 25 minutes of hearing about everyone else that we knew, we found a break in the conversation that seemed like enough of a segue to tell Toni that we were, in fact, pregnant. I can't remember her exact words, but it was something to the effect of, "Well, that's silly. Why did you let me talk so long about all of those other things? Why didn't you just tell me right away?" Then she celebrated a little with us.

We then got in the car and headed for home. On the way, we called my mother and put her on speaker phone. Now, for some background, I was worried that I would be underwhelmed by my mom's reaction. I have seen this woman LITERALLY jump up and down screaming when she found out a friend of hers was pregnant. I could only imagine what she might do when we gave her the news. But then I was afraid that her reaction wouldn't live up to the one that I imagined. When I told her that Tori and I were engaged, after years of her referring to Tori as "My daughter-in-law-to-be-I-hope", her reaction was somewhat more subdued than I was expecting (a large part of it had to do with the fact that my stepfather, Phil, was asleep and had to be up early the next morning so she didn't want to wake him.) There was no need to worry. Mom did not disappoint. "HOLY SH*T!" I believe that is an exact quote. Just what you would expect from a soon-to-be grandmother.

Shouldn't it feel more official?

After taking the home pregnancy test, it was time to get the official word from the doctor-type people. We went to Kaiser at the first opportunity (the next morning) to take very official blood-tests and medical procedures. We would go into an examination room. Tori would be in one of the gowns that doesn't close in the back. She would be sitting on the butcher paper-covered exam table. A doctor with a beard would come in with glasses down on his nose, and say, "Victorianna Marchese-Blum? Ok. You are pregnant." And Tori and I would break into hysterical fits of laughter and tears and hold each other and we would be parents. Then there would be some sort of parent paperwork that we would fill out to show that we were actually pregnant and we knew it and that we were ready.

They had Tori pee in a cup. It took five minutes. We didn't talk to a doctor. We didn't go in to a room. They sent Tori down the hall to the bathroom with a cup. I didn't even need to be there.

I feel like all of the moments in life that change your life, always feel like something more official should happen. The only thing, so far, that felt too official, was getting a marriage license. That was too much official-ness. But getting into college, graduating from college, getting engaged, and now finding out if we were pregnant. All of them felt like something more official needed to happen.

It was positive, and we found out that day. Tori checked online while I was at work. Where was the doctor coming into the room with his glasses down on his nose? And the gown, and the blood test and the table with the paper on it? Where was the moment where Tori and I got to find out together and hug each other and celebrate? This was the biggest thing that had ever happened to either of us and it all came from a urine sample. It just felt too informal. But again, what do I care? I'm going to be a daddy!

Of Faint Lines and Phone Calls

It was the Tuesday before school let out. I was sitting in meetings all morning. We started in Canyon's lovely "Cafe-tor-nasium" where most of the plays we do are produced. I couldn't tell you what we were supposed to be doing in those meetings. I do know that I presented to the faculty on behalf of our group without knowing what I was saying (memories of every class I took in high school). I was in a group with Joe Svobobadeebop for the first time ever. My phone rang for the second time in an hour and for the second time it was Tori calling. I said something to Joe like, "Why does she keep calling me? She knows I'm in meetings all morning." Or something more clever than that. As I said it, the thought crossed my mind, "It's probably something important." If you know me, you know that although I was behaving on the outside like I was totally confident, on the inside, I was panicking a little. Within seconds, the text came through, "Call me when you're done with your meetings. :)" I was put at ease. If it was important, it could wait. But it was good news. I didn't need to worry.

Later, while sitting in another meeting, my phone rang again. "I said to the teacher sitting next to me, "I should take this. It's the third time my wife has called me." To which, Kathy Flanagan, the teacher sitting next to me and the woman with the loudest voice on campus said, "Maybe she's pregnant!" Coincidentally, I was thinking the same thing. I gave Kathy my "How'd you do that?" look and went out the door to answer the phone.

Outside of a computer arts classroom, during a meeting on a Tuesday morning, with only teachers and the random kids who show up early to a late start day, I found out that my beautiful wife was pregnant. When you have a moment in life like that, you expect the setting to be as momentous as the news. I was in the middle of what felt like a ghost town. I wanted to jump up and down and run around screaming, but there were just enough people on campus that I might have drawn some unwanted attention. Long story short: it was awkward. How is one supposed to react? I wanted to shout it from the mountain-tops! I wanted to call my mother right then and tell her she would be a grandmother (again). I wanted to call my friends from back home and let them know. But I couldn't. So I settled for contained excitement and what must have been the strangest looking facial expression ever. Like a combination of having just received the greatest news of my life, trying not to look anyone in the eye, and "I know something you don't know", and my patented "poker face". (Fifteen people just fell out of their chairs laughing) See, people think that, because I acted when I was younger, that I should be good at being dishonest in real life. It does not work that way. I am the worst liar, poker player, Clue player, and secret keeper you will ever meet. Everything shows on my face.

I walked back into the classroom with, what I thought was, the most neutral expression I possess on my face. Sort of like, "Hey, everybody. What's been goin' on while I was out there handlin' by bi'ness? You know what I'm sayin'?" Didn't work. Kathy looked at me and said, "Well...?" And the look on my face must have changed for a split second from "Just keep it cool, my babies" to "Oh my god! Tori's pregnant and I really want to say something but I can't!" All I know is, suddenly, Kathy Flanagan-Egan, the woman with the worst verbal-impulse-control problem on campus, knew my secret. "Dammit! I've been a dad for 2 minutes and I already screwed everything up!" I quickly told Kathy not to tell anyone, which is like telling a leaky faucet not to drip. Later I was standing next to a friend at work talking about nothing in particular and Kathy walked by. She had this crazy smile on her face and said, "I can't keep it in!"

So, now I had to go to the person who I would be the most disappointed if Kathy told, and tell them myself. My friend, Joe. I also knew that he would be the first person Kathy would tell. I had to cut her off at the pass. Don't you love that 30 minutes into fatherhood, or embryo-hood, I was playing cloak and dagger? ("Oh well. What do I care? I'm going to be a daddy!") I told Joe, and that problem was solved. The next problem was letting Tori know that they knew. "Sorry, honey. You know how we didn't want to tell anyone until we were ready? Well, apparently my face wasn't on board with that agreement." Tori handled it well. Surprisingly well. Now, if I could just go the rest of the day without blowing it any more. I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself.

The closest call was when I had about thirty seconds to myself and my mind drifted to how excited I was about fatherhood. How excited I was to see Tori as a mother. For us to be our own family. To hold my kid in my arms. To watch them grow up. And my damn face betrayed me again! One of my favorite students, Kyle, walked up to me. It was one of those things where my eyes were all out of focus and I couldn't get them to come back. He did that really annoying thing that people do when that happens, and he waved his hand in front of my face. (Why do people do that? Can't you see that I am so relaxed and lost in thought that my eyes have gone out of focus? Why are you trying to ruin my day?) Then he said, "What's wrong with you? You have the weirdest look on your face." I was standing in the middle of my classroom with a huge smile on my face, staring at nothing in particular. I must have looked like a maniac. ("Oh well. What do I care? I'm going to be a daddy!") "Nothing," I said. I quickly walked up to my desk in the back of my room and got engrossed in some sort of important work stuff...like a crossword puzzle.

I made it through the day, and got home. When I went in the bathroom, I found five positive pregnancy tests waiting for me (apparently Tori was thrown off by how faint the second line was on the first test, so she took three more and then went to the store and got a digital test). It was like Tori was leaving a note for me, "You're going to be a daddy! There's no doubt about it!" That was where it first felt real. I mean really real. And I was alone again. But this time I could jump around and scream. I wonder what the neighbors thought was happening? ("Oh well. What do I care? I'm going to be a daddy!")