The Christmas Post

We had a fantastic Christmas, although it got off to a rough start. We found out on Christmas Eve that the Tukkster is going to need surgery, and Caulder woke up Christmas morning and puked his guts out. But never fear, things got better.

Cole took Tukk to the doctor early on Christmas Eve because he’s had some weird swelling down by his, ahem, junk (yes, that’s the technical term), and because his reflux is getting worse. The doc checked him out and said the swelling is a piece of intestine that has dropped down where it doesn’t belong. Then he told us that when it swells up we can try to gently push the intestine back up where it belongs. And he was serious. Gah. So we’re definitely going to have to do surgery for that. Once again, Gah.

The doc also told us that we could give him medicine for his reflux, but for some reason that increases babies’ chances of getting pneumonia. We’ve tried pneumonia once already, and it wasn’t as fun as you might think, so we’re going to try to avoid doing that again. Instead we're just supposed to thicken his milk a bunch to see if that will help keep it down. His reflux isn’t horrible, anyway, but I do feel bad for him when he starts urping because you can tell it hurts him.

And since they were already there the doc decided to give Tukk his vaccinations and his RSV shot. Cole was just supposed to take him in for a quick visit and he got stuck with a weigh-in (Tukk's 8 lbs, 10 oz, by the way), the surgery news, and 4 shots. Sucker. So poor Tukk was pretty grumpy on Christmas Eve, which was fantastic for my mom, because she babysat while we took Caulder to Cole’s family party.

That party is super fun, because there are all sorts of little kids running around tearing open presents. The only bummer was that this was the famous Grandma Donna party, but she’s been in the hospital so she wasn’t able to come, and we really missed her.

Caulder got a shotgun that smokes when you eject the shells out, and a black cowboy hat. He thought it was the greatest thing ever. By the way, did I tell you he got new cowboy boots last week? He’s been wearing nothing but Crocs for 2 years, even in the bitter cold, despite our begging, pleading and bribing. And the Crocs he had were awful. They smelled of locker room and horror, and they were all torn and worn out, but he loved the disgusting things and refused to wear anything else. But the other day we were at Cal Ranch and he picked out some boots and told us he needed them because his Crocs were broken. It was a Christmas miracle.

So anyway, he was sporting full-on cowboy gear, and I think it was probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You might think I’m just doing the annoying “my kid is so cute” mom thing, but I have pictures to prove it:

See, I told you so.

Caulder woke up sick on Christmas morning, but after a good stomach purging he perked right up. So he finally started opening presents around noon, and it was a blast. Every time he’d open something he’d say, “This is just what I wanted! I’ve been waiting for this!” even if he’d never seen the thing before in his life. It was awesome.

Here are some pics from the big day. This one is at Grandma Sarah's:




The boys (curse you, picture-flipping Blogger):

From left to right, my sisters Darby and Rylee, cousins Malea and Cass, and sister Jess... okay, so Jess is technically my sister-in-law, but same thing):

Grandma Sarah's present to the great grandkids:

Christmas Excitement

I don't have much to report on the boys. Tukk's been doing well with his occupational therapy. He has it twice a month, and right now he's just working on things like grasping a little ring, reaching for toys (he still hasn't figured out that he has hands yet) and doing tummy time, which he hates. I think our record is 4 minutes of tummy time, and that was miraculous. So we'll be working on that one for a long time. He's getting much stronger with his head and he's starting to kick whenever he gets a break from the hip harness. I think that's why he likes bath time so much – he's harness free for a bit!

We had a visit from the nurse last week and she weighed and measured Tukk. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 1 ounce and almost 20 inches long. We also had to take him back up to Primary Children's last week for his harness check, but that was uneventful. His harness is still fitting fine… it's just much poopier and more spitup-y than when we first got it. We won't know if it's working until January 2, when Tukk has another ultrasound.

Caulder has had an exciting week. His cousin and best friend in the world, Looney Junie, is here from Oklahoma visiting for the holidays, so they had a reunion. CJ was a bit shy at first, but after about 30 seconds the two of them were running around my mom's house chasing each other and screaming like lunatics while Winnie, June's little sister, tried to keep up. After they got tired of that game they sat on the bar eating snacks and telling each other stories about poopy skeletons. I have no idea. They sure got a kick out of it, though.

Our other big excitement is that my sis Darby is coming home from her mission on Monday. She's been serving in the Phillippines. I can't wait. I'm really hoping she'll come home and won't get a life until spring so she can just hang out with us while we're on house arrest. My other sister Rylee has had the job of babysitting us so we don't get too bored, but I think she's getting sick of us, so hopefully Darby can spell her off. She'll probably want to come home and start dating or go to college or something. Well, too bad. If I can't have a life, neither can she. Heh heh heh.

Otherwise we're all just waiting for Christmas. Here are some pics from the Grandma Kathy Christmas party we had last week. This is how CJ builds a gingerbread house. Just like his momma.

And he's still not at all interested in sitting on Santa's lap.

The Awesomeness...

Is almost too much, isn't it? Poor kid... we're already on our way to messing him up Kev Babe style (for an explanation, see here). But you've gotta admit this onesie describes his life perfectly. Cole's friends Nick and Brett made these for us and they turned out perfectly. I'm trying to figure out if they have a website for their T-shirt shop. If so I'll post it in case you guys want to get yourselves some awesome shirts, too. Feel free to ask for the "can of creamed corn" shirt... You know you want one.

Right now the Tukkster is sporting a sleek new hip harness (does anyone know why Blogger sometimes flips your images and won't let you correct them? Aargh... it drives me crazy). We found out last Friday that his right hip is seriously out of socket. It's so far out that the doc doesn't think the harness will work, but she said every once in a while she'll have a baby who surprises her. And since Tukk has been surprising everyone, we figured it was worth a shot.




He'll wear this lovely contraption for a month, and if it isn't working after that we'll take it off and he'll have to have surgery this spring. After the surgery he'll be in a cast that runs around his waist and down both legs to hold his hip in place (the bum is open so we can still change him). He'll have to be in that for 3 months. Blech. So we're hoping the harness will work. We really don't want to do surgery, and 3 months in a lower body cast sounds like torture.

Last week Caulder and Coleseph took a boys' trip to the Henry Mountains to look at these:



They rode in my grandpa's Ranger, which was nice because it's all enclosed (once the door is shut) and kept them warmer. Plus you can put a carseat in it, which I'm a big fan of.



CJ had a blast. He called me that night to tell me all about the animals they were seeing. According to him they saw "big bucks and moose and elk and bear." Of course, he was the only one who could see the moose and elk and bear. He must have the best eyesight.


He loved crusing in the Ranger, seeing the big deer, throwing snow on the fire to put it out, and waiting until my dad was taking a nap (in the dirt and rocks... that man can sleep anywhere), and then running over and bodyslamming him. I'm sure that was my dad's favorite part of the trip, too.

I've Failed Him Already

Last week it finally got cold enough to be hot chocolate weather, so I bought a tub of Stephen’s finest and whipped out the CocoLoco machine. As soon as Caulder woke up I brewed us a batch using my secret recipe, which I reveal here—free of charge—out of the goodness of my heart: 8 ounces hot water, 15 ½ scoops of hot chocolate, with 3-4 inches of squirty whipped cream piled on top. Some of you lightweights might think you only need 2 or 3 scoops to make a delicious cup. I say why waste your time? If you don’t end up with an inch of chocolate sludge in the bottom of your cup, it’s just not worth it.

So I made my secret recipe and handed CJ his glass. I was anticipating some serious I’m-about-to-go-into-a-sugar-coma excitement, but instead Caulder pointed to the whipped cream and said to me, “Hey Misty Lou, I don’t like that stuff on my hot chocolate.”

I was shocked and brokenhearted. Where did I go wrong? Pretty soon he’ll think you don’t need to drink your pink milk out of a licorice straw or that rootbeer floats aren’t a perfectly acceptable main course for dinner. My only consolation was that I took the whipped cream he made me remove from his hot chocolate and added it to mine. Double whipped cream… maybe being a parental failure isn’t so bad.

As for the Tukkster, he’s been making up for his week off by having an appointment nearly every day this week. Monday was the pediatrician, and I’m happy to report that at nearly 5 months old, Tukk is now officially the size of an average newborn: 7 pounds 11 ounces, 19 inches long.

Tuesday was an eye specialist, just to see if he could track objects, focus on things… stuff like that. Wednesday was a visit with the occupational therapist. Thursday was supposed to be a visit with the nurse, but she had to cancel, so we got one day off. And tomorrow Tukk’s back to Primary Children’s for another ultrasound on his hip. So far everyone he’s met with thinks he’s right on track for his corrected age (which counts from his due date, not his birth date), so he’s doing everything an almost-2-month-old baby should be doing. He just needs to fatten up more, since even if we go by his corrected age he's a runt. Maybe I should add some whipped cream to his bottle...

Doctor-Free for a Whole Week

We're really enjoying this week because it's our first week without ANY doctor appointments. It's been awesome. We had quite a few last week, though. The eye doctor finally cleared Tukk. He said his ROP has stopped progressing and that the hemorrhages were looking better, too. He won't need eye surgery, and his eyes should be fine from here on out, except that he may need glasses and might not have great peripheral vision thanks to the scarring. But at least he doesn't need surgery.

The trip to Primary Children's last Friday was a bit of a bust. Cole was flying, so I asked my mom to take the day off work to go with me (Tukk's alarm went off on the way to the doc last week and I almost messed my pants in my rush to get off the road and jump in the back to make sure he was still breathing. Now I'm scared to drive alone with him). Anyway, my mom took the day off and we dragged both boys all the way up to the hospital only to have the doctor tell us that she'd already looked at the ultrasound images from UVRMC, but they weren't very clear. She wants us to come back in 2 weeks to have the radiologists at PC do another one.

I have no idea why she couldn't have just called to tell us that. Aargh. But on the way out of the hospital there was a teensy little girl wearing a surgical mask and a pink hat that said, "Cancer fears me," so I immediately stopped complaining. It could be (much) worse.

We'll go back next Friday for another round of ultrasounds, and hopefully then we'll know what the plan is for Tukk's hip. The doc said if it's permanently out of socket the harness won't work on him and we'll have to do surgery when he's about 6 months old. If it pops in and out the harness might work, so we'll try that first.

And Tukk is still gaining weight. As of last Wednesday he weighed 7 pounds 3 ounces and was 17 ½ inches long. He's huge! He even almost fits in newborn clothes now. He'll have another weight check on Monday, along with a Synagis shot. Have I told you about those? He gets one every 28 days to help protect him from RSV. It won't prevent him from getting it, but it boosts his immune system so if he does get RSV it shouldn't be so hard on him. It's a super injection that costs $1400 per shot. Yikes. Our insurance company is loving us right now.

Caulder has recently discovered the amazing world of the backpack. Grandma Sarah gave him one for his birthday back in August, but he wasn't too excited about it until recently. He's been loading it up with toys, bits of paper, rocks, sticks, and suckers… everything a boy needs to survive in this world. For a while he'd hook one strap over his head and walk around the house leaning to one side because it was weighing him down and threatening to snap his neck. I finally convinced him to let me show him how you're supposed to wear it (most of the time he's much too independent to need anyone to show him anything), and he thought it was the coolest thing ever. He kept giggling and saying, "I didn't know you were apposed to wear it like this!"

He couldn't wait to show Cole when he got home from work, so the other morning he came running in with his backpack and said, "Hey Mist" (he doesn't call me mom anymore – apparently that's sooooo 2 year old), "can you help me put my backpack on myself?" I helped him put it on...by himself... and then he ran out into the kitchen yelling, "Dad! Dad! Check this out. I put it on all by myself!"


Here's a pic showcasing the sneakiness necessary to get the Tukkster to sleep. We got one of these nifty gadgets when CJ was a baby, which was lucky because Tukk loved his NICU Zaky. He thinks he needs to be held all the time or the world has come to an end. Apparently overcoming impossible odds just to stay alive has made him think he deserves to be spoiled. And really, how can we argue with him? Bless you, bean-filled Zaky hand.

And here's a pic of the boys visiting with their Great Grandma Donna. She held Tukk the whole time she was at our house, so of course he loves her.

Dear Looney Junie and Miss Winn,

I know it's been a long time since you asked for more movies of me, but my mom is a slacker, so I'm sorry you had to wait. Here's a video I made especially for you showing off my sweet Bat/He-Man moves. I think you'll be impressed.

And this is one of He-Man singing Twinkle Twinkle to Tukker. As you can see, in addition to his huge muscles and evil-fighting skills, He-Man has an impressive singing voice.



Do you love my Elmo phone? The sun keeps going down. I don't know why the sun keeps going down. I keep watching Gee Guys and He-Man. When you come home, maybe we could play with my He-Man toys.

Love,

Bat/He-Man (a.k.a., Caulder)


PS (from Misty) - Wanna see some cute boys? Click here and scroll down a bit. Our friend Amanda took them, and she didn't even mind that we made her boil herself in hand sanitizer when she got to our house. She also didn't seem to mind when she told Caulder he should come to her house and play with her little boy and he told her, "I will never go to your house! Never!" If you're looking for a good photographer, she's awesome.

The Last 2 Weeks

The Tukkster has had a busy 2 weeks since coming home from the hospital. He's had 2-3 doctor appointments a week. He's getting pretty good at traveling, and I'm thinking all the crap I have to pack with me (travel oxygen tank, apnea monitor, baby in a car seat, diaper bag) is good training for me to become a Sherpa.

Tukker had an eye doctor appointment the Wednesday after he got home, and there's no change in his eyes. We go back today to check them again, just to make sure his ROP isn't progressing. The eye doc was also concerned because his eyes look very immature (even for a preemie) for some weird reason, and because he has a lot of hemorrhaging in them. The doc can't figure out why. If he saw me in the early morning after being up all night with Tukk he'd understand… that vision of horror would make anyone's eyes hemorrhage. But the doc doesn't think it will cause any long-term problems — he just wants to watch them for a bit longer.

Tukk saw the pediatrician last Monday and we got in trouble because he hadn't gained any weight since we left the hospital – he was still 6 lbs. 12 oz. We almost had to put a feeding tube in, but Dr. Knochel agreed to give us a few more days to see if Tukk could do a little better, and luckily when we took him in last Friday he'd gained 3 ounces in 4 days. He should be gaining about an ounce every day, so he was close enough to that goal that we escaped the feeding tube for a bit longer.

Last Wednesday we headed back to the hospital to get Tukker an ultrasound on his hips. It confirmed our doc's worries and we found out that Tukk has developmental dysplasia of the hip, which means his right hip is completely out of socket (left hip is fine). So this Friday we're off to Primary Children's to have him looked at by a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. They'll probably just put Tukker in a harness that keeps his legs open and forces his femur back into the hip socket. I think sometimes this problem requires surgery, but not usually until the child is between 5-8 years old, and our doc said the harness fixes it almost every time.

Caulder seems to be handling having a new brother at home pretty well. He loves laying his cheek on Tukk's head, and he told me yesterday that Kacy (the little girl who lives up the street from us) is his friend, Coleseph is his best friend and Tukker is his buddy. Apparently the person who was in labor with him for 24 hours didn't even make the list. What a bunch of crap.

CJ has been busy, too. He and Cole have been doing this:

And this:

And last Friday he and I went to Disney on Ice. Caulder had fun, although all the princessy romance stuff was a bit much for him to take. During one number where all the princesses come out and sing to their princes he looked at me and said, "I thought we were going to go." Luckily Yaya came to the rescue and bought him a Buzz Lightyear sword, so that kept him occupied for the rest of the show. When he got bored he could "poo" the lame-o princesses, which he thought was awesome. (For those of you who don't know, "poo poo" is the sound his sword makes when he's fighting with it. If you ever come for a visit I'm sure he'll do you the honor of "pooing" you, too.)

He's also been busy trying to figure out what to be for Christmas. He's been wearing his He-Man costume almost every day since Halloween, and I guess he thinks we dress up for all holidays, because he's been asking all of us what we want to be for Christmas. He's going to be a cowboy. I hope Santa brings him some boots.

I've Been Meaning to Thank You

I know that normally my posts are a reflection of my own shallow, moronic self, but I’m going to get all emotional and junk with this one, so consider yourself forewarned.

I’m sitting here with Tukker asleep on my chest, and I can’t help thinking how amazing it is to be at this point. About six months ago we were told that he had almost no chance for survival. The specialist said he would almost certainly be born before he was able to survive outside the womb, and even if he did make it to the point of viability his lungs wouldn’t be developed enough for him to live. He might breathe once after his birth, but that would be all his little lungs would be capable of, and he would pass away within minutes of being born. We were even told to consider terminating the pregnancy.

And now this boy who would never breathe is snoring just a little bit while he snoozes away, oblivious to the fact that he’s not supposed to be here.

As you all know, this has not been easy on us. Those first two months after Tukk was born were horrendous. He was so critically ill that we just didn’t know whether or not he was going to pull through, and seeing him like this for so long, especially since there was absolutely nothing we could do for him ourselves, was heartbreaking.




On my worst days I felt so small and helpless that I wondered if Heavenly Father could even see me. I wondered if He knew what I was going through or how difficult this was for me. But invariably, on those most difficult days, one of you would call to check on me or leave an encouraging note on the blog or drop by with a plate of chocolate chip cookies to let me know you were thinking of me. And then I would realize Heavenly Father hadn’t forgotten me — He was sending me help through all of you.

We’ve been completely amazed by everything you guys have done for us throughout all this. You spent days and nights babysitting me and Caulder while I was on bed rest. You brought us dinners and brought me lunch and treats and more chocolate chip cookies and The Office on DVD so I wouldn’t go completely nuts while I was on bed rest in the hospital. People we haven’t spoken to in years got in touch with us to cheer us on. People we’ve never met — including some with NICU babies of their own — introduced themselves and let us lean on them via email and blog messages. After Tukker was born you put his name in the temple and had your kids pray for him. One of our friends even got the news about Tukk’s birth while he was in Hong Kong on business, so he hopped on the subway (or was it the bus?), found his way to the Hong Kong temple and added his name to the prayer roll in a foreign country.


I don’t think there’s any way we can tell you how much it’s meant to us, but I wanted to try. I never really understood before why it was so important to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort. But now I get it. You’ve all mourned with us when our hearts were broken and comforted us when we needed it so desperately, and just knowing we weren’t alone in this made it possible for us to get through one more day. You really have lifted some of our burden by carrying part of it yourselves.

We know that Tukker wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for miracles. We are so grateful for the teachings of the gospel and for the power of priesthood blessings. We have been incredibly blessed, and we know without a doubt that Heavenly Father stepped in and saved Tukk when medicine and doctors and science couldn’t. And we also know that we wouldn’t still be here if it weren’t for you guys, because there’s no way we could have gotten through this without you. So thank you. We love you guys.


(And don’t worry — I promise my next post will once again be shallow and meaningless. If you’re lucky I’ll even put in another “pull my finger” story.)

The Most Awesome Boys in the Universe

Behold the long-awaited Halloween pictures. Cole's Aunt Annette made these costumes for the boys. At first Caulder refused to wear his, but Cole eventually convinced him to put it on one piece at a time. When he got to the boots Caulder started whispering, "Why is he making me put on these stupid boots?" But once he had the whole outfit on he kept running around the house saying, "I love these boots! I love these He-Man pants!" He wouldn't take the costume off for 3 days.

Tukker was a hit in the NICU. The nurses all kept coming over to check out his sweet costume. As you can see he was pretty excited about the whole event.

In this picture Caulder's using his hi-tech wristband to communicate with Man at Arms about an evil robot they need to fight.

Caulder wore this to the store the other day, and while we were in the parking lot another car started coming toward us. I told CJ to come over by me so it wouldn't hit him, and he said, "Don't worry Mom, cars can't run over He-Man. He'll fight them out of the way." Then he turned toward the car, put his fists up in the air and glared at the poor lady behind the wheel. After she drove off I said, "Good job He-Man. You got that car out of the way." He replied, "Yeah, because I'm the most powerful man in the universe." Then when we got inside the store he said, "You better stay by me, Teela." I've never felt safer.

115 Days Later...

Do you know what that is? That’s both of my boys, together, under the same roof. After 115 days in the NICU, Tukker’s home!


Before Tukk could come home he had to pass some tests. The first was a 12-hour eating trial to see how much he could get without being tube fed. He barely passed that, so then he had to do a 24-hour trial. He barely passed that, so they made him do 1 more, and he barely passed that. He also had to pass a car-seat test, where they put him in his seat for 90 minutes and watched his saturation levels to make sure he could keep his oxygen up while in the car. He passed that with flying colors, so on Sunday the final test began: Cole and I had to have a slumber party with him at the hospital to make sure we knew how to take care of him.

We stayed here:


If your baby goes home on oxygen you have a sort of trial run at the hospital to make sure you know how to handle all the machines your baby will be on at home. It’s basically a test so you can prove to the hospital that you’re smart enough to care for your baby at home. We barely passed that. ;)


Sunday an IHC guy met us with the oxygen and apnea/heart rate monitor Tukker would going home on and showed us how to use them. There are two leads that go under Tukk’s armpits to measure how fast his heart is beating and whether or not he’s breathing. If his heart rate goes above 200 beats per minute or below 80 beats per minute, or if he stops breathing for 20 seconds, the machine lets out a beep that is louder and more terrifying than the shriek of a banshee.

At around 8:00 Sunday night we moved Tukker over to the rooming-in room and our test began. Apparently we’ve forgotten what it’s like to take care of a baby, because we brought my laptop and some DVDs so we could watch a movie together. Yeah, right. At approximately 8:05 (just as the nurse was leaving) Tukk had a gigantic blowout that covered the entire lower half of his body and most of his pajamas. The nurse just smiled and said, “Good luck!” as she ran out the door.

We cleaned him all up, got new jammies on him, fed him, and decided we were exhausted, so we went to bed. About an hour later, he was hungry again, so we tried feeding him some more. He gets so worn out from eating that he can get through about an ounce before he’s exhausted. Then an hour later he’s hungry again. We did that until about midnight, and then his alarms started ringing every 20 minutes or so. It’s seriously the loudest, most horrible noise, so every time it went off we’d jump out of bed, make sure Tukk was breathing, and try to get the stupid machine turned off. That went on until about 4 in the morning, when we finally realized his leads were in the wrong place. I have no idea why we didn’t check that first thing. I guess we were too tired to think straight.

Anyway, after that he quit alarming and we all slept for about an hour and a half, when the nurse came in to check on us. Then an hour later Tukk’s doctor came in to check on him and discharged him from the hospital, so we got all of his stuff together, put him in the car and brought him home.

My mom and Rylee had a slumber party at our house with Caulder, so he was home when we got there, and he thought it was so funny that Tukker was home. He’s being a very good helper. He loves to pat Tukk’s head and tell him stories, and he’s always really good about making sure that he touches all of Tukker’s binkies, bottles… everything. So keeping Tukk germ free is going to be interesting… sigh. At least CJ likes him so far. He even said Tukk could sit by his daddy, which is a huge sacrifice for Caulder, who won’t even share Cole with me.

Here are some pix from big day. Our last day in the hospital:

Tukker looking very concerned that he has to come home with us idiots:

And my favorite, the sign they have up INSIDE the hospital INSIDE the NICU INSIDE the room where you sleep with your premature infant.

Pull My Finger

The other night I left the house after a fun-filled day of watching Cole and Caulder have a dance party to Ted Nugent’s “Free for All” (Caulder’s new favorite song, thanks to his daddy) and listening to the pull my finger joke for hours, which CJ also loves. Now when Cole says, “Pull my finger,” Caulder replies, “Okay Dad. I’ll pull your finger and you fart.” Lovely.

I left the farty, Nuge-loving boys and headed to the hospital to see Tukker. Last week he was still really struggling with eating. Every time I’d try to nurse him he’d choke on the milk and stop breathing, and then his heart rate and sat levels would plummet. So I’d have to sit him up and remind him to start breathing again, then wait until he caught his breath before trying again. Of course that made him (and me) nervous, and after that he’d be scared about latching on again.

So that night I decided to take a break from breastfeeding and try giving him a bottle to see if we could get him home any sooner. But he’d been having trouble with bottle feeding, too. The hospital’s baby guru, Annie (who is actually Tukk’s occupational therapist, but kicks butt at getting babies to eat), was able to get him to take a full bottle some of the time, but none of the rest of us could.

As I sat there trying to get a bottle down him, I started having a heart to heart with him. I’ve been a bit discouraged by all this eating business, and it was hard for me to give up on nursing him, plus I’m just so desperate to get him home after almost 4 months that I can hardly stand it anymore. So I poured my heart out to Tukk. I told him how proud I was of him for fighting so hard for so long so that he could stay here with us. I told him I knew he must be tired, but that if he could just keep working hard until he figured out how to eat he could come home, and then I wouldn’t bug him anymore. I’d let him sleep and I’d hold him and love on him and I’d spoil him rotten. I must admit, I shed a few tears during our little talk.

Throughout all this Tukk was looking at me so intently. He had his little eyebrows furrowed and he was staring right into my eyes. I thought to myself, “Surely some of this is getting through to him. He must understand at least a little of what I’m trying to tell him, because he’s concentrating so hard on our conversation.” I felt like it was really a touching moment between us because he seemed so focused on what I was saying.

Then he furrowed his brow even more, grunted, completely filled his diaper, and promptly fell asleep. And I realized he wasn’t so much interested in my heartfelt conversation — he just needed to poop. Instead of bearing my soul to that boy, I should have just pulled his finger.

PS - His feedings have been going better over the weekend, and the eye doctor saw him Friday night and doesn't think he'll need eye surgery. So if he can keep up on his eating he might get to come home this week sometime. I'm trying not to get too excited, but I'll keep you all posted on his progress.

PSS - I have some awesome Halloween pictures coming your way. The ones the hospital took for me are better than the ones I got on my camera, so as soon as I get a disk from them I'll post the pics. Be excited.