After 8 years at Will County Humane Society, cat finally adopted

After 8 years at Will County Humane Society, cat finally adopted .

Duchess and I have a lot in common.  Zuperfliegen's first planning/doctor visit was in 2003.  Badaassssss delivered to his forever home - 2011.

Remembering the belly

From Photo of me

An inventory of what I miss and what I don't miss about being pregnant...particularly very, very, very pregnant.

My belly grew more quickly than my sense of self could contain and so I never stopped running into door jams with it as I tried to slide through a half-opened door. Our only raised cupboard buts into a corner and the glasses reside on the far side of that cupboard. Even standing on tip-toe my I could no longer reach them. My belly prevented me from getting close enough.

My belly became the collector of crumbs and drips. My lap was for once protected (or was it just raised?) And, for some reason unrelated to my girth, I was much more awkward with food.

Looking at Kevin I found his tummy to be small. He was now the skinny one in the family.

I hated having my sweaty stomach sitting on my sweaty thighs. I don't even like to type that. Yuck.

There was nothing about sleeping while pregnant that I will miss. I couldn't turn over without waking up and using my arms. But, that was hardly necessary at the end because I was up every 2 hours (or less) to attend to my abused bladder. And, I so missed sleeping on my back. That was the first thing I did in the hospital. I was almost surprised to find that immediately I felt "OK" on my back - something I hadn't felt for months.

Walking, particularly uphill. Won't miss how slow I became. I was always a fast walker. I feared I was changed forever. Not so.

Finally, there was the movement and the knowledge that I was possessed by another entity. Initially, it was just plain creepy. Something is inside me...and it is growing. Then came the subtle little flutters. Finally, the big sweeping movements accompanying major changes in position. When they came upon me suddenly and I was otherwise unoccupied, I'd occasionally scream.

Despite all the paragraphs above, I loved being pregnant. I was fascinated by my ever changing silhouette - even though it also embarrassed me. You can't keep being pregnant private. There is something about that growing belly that informs - even the most distant stranger. It wasn't until I was about 39 weeks along when I finally decided "yes" I need a photograph of my belly that I really, really, really appreciated my new look. Too late then to document the wondrous evolution. (You are welcome to marvel at why anyone would feel uncomfortable with sharing a much wanted pregnancy with the world. This is the nature of neurosis.)

So, I miss that firm, warm belly and despite the way it would startle me, I miss the kicks and rolls and hiccoughs within it. Still, I'm happy to trade it for Zupe.

The eyes have it...

From Zuperfliegen

July 3 - Zupe's first visit to the Gallery of Modern Art. While others might be drawn to the Dalai Lama, it is no surprise that the Zupe would prefer Salvador Dali. (Can you pick out the Zupe man? He's the one with his eyes closed!)

Define: Xenogenic

From Zuperfliegen

Xenogenic \zen-uh-JEN-ik\, adjective:

1. To be completely different from either parent, or from the source of an object's creation.
2. In biology, originating outside the organism or from a foreign substance introduced into the organism.
3. Zuperfliegen Baadasssss

The wait

From July travel - mostly OHIO

We were assigned two wait dates as we were leaving the IVF clinic. The first, a 14 day wait, to find out if Zupe had set up house. The second, a 9 month wait, to evict the poor boy from said home.

We went "home" to our friends house, stopping on the way at a craft store for something Kevin needed for his games - probably plastic bags, and then I went to bed. (About now I know you are fearful that you will be asked to read a minute by minute account of the first 9 months followed by the post birth continuum. Really. Who has the time?)

As I was saying, I went to bed since I hadn't slept well the night before and continued what would be a continual effort for many weeks to come of trying to feel pregnant. Perhaps, I felt a little weight, something solid and deep, in my lower abdomen.

We stayed in Texas a couple more days then I flew to Ohio and Kevin flew to California before flying home to Brisbane. I enjoyed my time in the long summer days of Ohio but told only my mother of our effort. (I still had the photo at that time - and I made copies - but I can't find any now.) I continued to puzzle about my body, our body. Any change could easily be a consequence of my exogenous progesterone.

On the flight from Ohio to LA I watched in-flight TV - a program telling the stories of women who didn't know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. I tried to take solace in this. I yearned for it to be an omen.

The days continued and despite my exhaustive self examination I couldn't find any indication of nausea or fatigue or substantive change. Kevin and I went for the tell-all blood test early on the morning of the 26th. I was feeling dispirited. They took my blood and I asked them to call Kevin. I didn't want to get bad news at work.

I had a break during morning appointments and checked my email.

PROJECT Z IS A GO!!!

Reply |Kevin to Ann, me

So don't be sad.

And continue taking care of yourself.

Your Love Daddy,

Kevin

The beta HCG measured 1,966. One week later it had skyrocketed to 24,051. The Brisbane clinic questioned how many embryos we had transferred.

Just one BADASS dude.

July 13 - Anniversary of the Big Defrosting!

**Place cool-o photo of Zupe the blastocyst here. It's badass, as you'd expect. It is also missing.**

This is the day, just one year ago, that we picked up Zuperfliegen from the Baby Freezer Section. He was actually the second embryo that was thawed. The first was judged to be (most likely) non-viable and so we gave the OK that morning to warm up #2. The doctor recommended that we transfer 2 embryos, but we had nixed that idea. I was not prepared to have twins. I didn't really know I was prepared to have one. The idea both delighted and worried me.

Following the recommended protocol I drank 6 gallons of water prior to arrival at the clinic. I then had a short session of acupuncture followed by a very, very, very long wait for the doctor. I could ease my anxiety by holding Kevin's hand - but that did little for my bladder.

Eventually, they wheeled me on my bed into the procedure room. (Kevin had to walk.) Dr. K confirmed that my bladder was full (and admired just how full it was. He told me it would be OK if I wanted to partially empty my bladder, but I wasn't convinced there would be any partially to that activity, so I declined.) On the monitor - which worked unlike the television in our "hospital room" - was a petri dish containing a speck. That speck would become Zupe.

We watched as the speck was aspirated into a cannula and that was then carried into the procedure room. "Watch the ultrasound and you'll see the embryo injected into the uterus".

We watched but we didn't see.

Then, we were returned to our "room". I spent the next 30 minutes or so with my legs elevated above my head (an interesting pose for using one's bed pan) while gravity did it's job of keeping Zupe "in the house", getting more acupuncture, searching for calm and trying to feel pregnant.

The wait began.

Baby Braille

In the hospital we learned to swaddle Zupe. When he'd snuffle or snort or sound like he was struggling to breath through the copious mucous that filled his respiratory track (and digestive track - but that's neither here nor there)- a side effect of missing out on the "Big Squeeze" and being born by C-section - I'd reach through the bars on my bed and over the side of his bassinet and stroke his body.

This is how and when it dawned on me that I was completely misunderstanding the anatomy I'd been palpating for the last several months. You see, a baby wrapped tightly in a blanket feels from the outside like a baby bound tightly in an abdomen. Same lumps. Same bumps.

Probably no major insight for you. But, I've been a little slow lately.

Somehow, despite having a body of my own for almost 50 years, I had forgotten about shoulders, and elbows, and knees. Especially knees.

I wish now I could go back and feel that belly again and see if I could read what it had to tell me using my new understanding - my baby braille.

The Ten Thousand Names of Zupe

From Zuperfliegen

Those of you who are here following a link from Kevin's blog will know something about our well-named son. We haven't added any more names. Promise.

For the uninformed... Zupe had multiple names prior to even knowing he was a boy - even prior to his conception...and that occurred years ago. We chose his name way back in Cleveland while driving across town one day.

James - is the name of both of our fathers - though
1. I assure you they were different men and
2. Neither was ever called James but went by his middle name (Dennis or Dan)
In addition, there is a tradition in Kevin's family of naming the first son of the first son James. Kevin's not the first son, but Zupe is the first grandson.

Steven - at the time virtually every close friend of Kevin was named Steve. (If the discussion had occurred later in our Cleveland era, he might have been Michael. Everyone we knew in Cleveland was named Michael such that we gave them all nicknames - "Officer Mike", "Nederlander Mike", etc. No, not really. Steve is too important to Kevin. No Mike could take his place.)

And, that was the entirety of his name. But, that was years ago- when given time enough, we get creative.

So, to "Zuperfliegen Baadasssss". (Haven't I dissected this for you?) Zuperfliegen is Kevin's creation - faux-German for "Superfly". Baadasssss is a direct steal from the 1971 film "Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song". In all, an homage to blaxsploitation films. It is also a salute to a longstanding joke of ours - "the silent Q".

Despite his great love of Steve, Kevin would have put Zuperfliegen on the birth certificate. I'm afraid I am the killjoy here. But, really, it is such a mouthful and any kid of ours is likely to be a bit off step with his "contemporaries". They really don't need the additional ammunition of the Zuperfliegen, let alone Baadassss, name(s). One of Kevin's Pittsburgh friends suggested "Zupe" as a nickname. I love Zupe. Zupe is too cool. Zupe is pretty much certificate worthy - but don't tell Kevin.

And, the nicknames proliferate. (Much fun for me - a person who never had a nickname, but always wanted one.) Zupester, Zupemeister, Zupenstein, Zupertastic, Z-BOB, Zed-man. Let me know if I've forgotten one of your favorites.

In the end as the big April Fools Day of Expectation approached I felt there was only one thing left to do.

I added another name.

This one did get on the birth certicate.

Victor.

Yes. I named him for my favorite dog. No one was more affectionate or honorable or loved.

Until now.

NPR Blanket Project: Is this why we are denied??

From September 2014

The 'Beginnings' Series: Upload And Submit Your Baby Blanket Photos


June 27, 2011 For our series Beginnings, we're working on a story about a blanket many of you will be familiar with. It's a white flannel blanket, with pink and blue stripes. It's the standard receiving blanket in many hospitals across the country.

As part of our project, we're collecting photos – like the one here – of babies swaddled in this specific blanket.

While you might think we'd have figured this out before, we only recently discovered that Zupe, being something other than a "blood relative" is not automatically eligible for US citizenship.  Seems you've either got to share some blood or be swaddled at birth in one of those American blankets.

Damn those polka dots!

Irony: the greatest force in the universe

From Zuperfliegen

Kevin tells me this ALL THE TIME.

Case in point.

For YEARS I have been confessing to Kevin that I'd really be interested in, let's see, this is awkward here - though surprisingly easy to say to Kevin - OK....interested in seeing an abdominal exploratory surgery on him. He's not shaped like a dog. At all. Or, a cat.

Then, WHO is it that is getting their abdomen incised? and WHO will be in the "audience"???

CRAP.

I thought FOR SURE there would be a big mirror hung in surgery so that I could watch Zupe being pulled from my abdomen. If you've got to have a C-section, that seemed like the least they could do! And, I must confess (again) that I'd been imagining where I'd make that incision as I watched my ever expanding abdomen...

BUT

no mirror.

And, no audience. Kevin had to sit behind the "curtain" with me (or at least the seeing part of me) until it was all over. The camera got passed to the anaesthetist's assistant....who did get some good shots. The best, little baby zombie Zupe, we've not put on line for fear of inducing panic in the general population...but if you're very, very brave...

"...is harder with a baby on oxygen."

From Zuperfliegen 2011

Australia has a very, very good community health program - at least for new babies and their mothers. The great staff at the Mater's Mother's Hospital set me up with them when they discharged Zupe and a nurse came by for a home visit about 2 weeks after we got home. She gave Zupe a physical: weighed and measured him. Then, she set us up with an infant feeding day long session and a weekly mother's group.

Well, she didn't immediately set us up with the latter. In fact, she wasn't sure "which group" would be best for us because "babies with oxygen tend to monopolize the conversation".

Now, that probably doesn't strike you as funny since you are convinced I DO monopolize our conversations. This, however, is all your doing. You COULD press that comment button and have your say. I'd be thrilled, in fact, to know I wasn't talking to myself. I do that all day long - usually in my head, but recently more times out loud telling myself I am "talking to Zupe." In reality I have NEVER been accused of monopolizing any conversation. I'm much more likely to be criticized for failing to participate in said conversation.

Still, it did provide a chuckle to Kevin and me. And, it was Kevin who noted that I could just end any sentence with "...harder with a baby on oxygen." He thinks it is almost as amusing as ending fortune cookie fortunes with "in bed".

So, I've been - let me start again - WE'VE been to two meetings. I DID mention my son was on oxygen - twice: first when I introduced him (I thought that people might be interested/concerned/curious as to why we carry an oxygen cylinder and decorate his cheeks with tape.) and secondly when we were asked to comment on how the experience of giving birth/being a mother differed from our expectations. (In hindsight I could have said more: I didn't expect to need an induction. (I did expect to go beyond 40 weeks...) I didn't expect that after the induction I would need a c-section. I didn't expect my son would hardly eat for almost 5 days, would sleep almost all the time, would spend 3 weeks in the hospital, would need 24 hour oxygen support...) Given the nurse's comment I may have been less willing to discuss the oxygen, in fact.

One of the major concerns with mothers is settling their crying baby. Why does she cry? Why won't he stop? Help!! I made the very foolish (in retrospect) statement that Zupe is very easy. He doesn't cry except when he's hungry. He eats and then he goes to sleep. On his own. No fuss. Just put him in his bed and he "self settles."  Foolish because we've yet to spend an entire visit there (about 2 hours) without him screaming for AT LEAST 45 minutes of that time. I hold him. I talk with him. I bounce him. I put him in his stroller. I pick him up.... The scream continues. He isn't hungry. He JUST ATE minutes ago. I think he's picked up his dad's respect for irony. (The strongest force in the universe.)

Damn them both.

The introduction of hair!

<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Nl8qlQ_R54CLhnFdl4nsZ9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-X1wMhJIU388/VBgeyUvjjuI/AAAAAAAAQfo/dWkP6LkZtk8/s800/w-close-up.jpg" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/109881362402743272578/Zuperfliegen2011?authuser=0&feat=embedwebsite">Zuperfliegen 2011</a></td></tr></table>


Overnight. I swear!  And, look, Ma.  Eyelashes!

The size of babies

From Zuperfliegen

While describing a photo of Zuperfliegen, my friend Christine recently made a comment that I've heard before...something to the effect that she'd forgotten how small newborns are. I suppose in 6 months or 2 years or a decade, I might feel the same way. Right now I'm struck by how BIG he is. All of THAT was inside ME?

I found this statistic on the adhesive protector from a sanitary napkin: "When a woman is pregnant, her uterus expands to 500 times its normal size." (See photo from March 30 - you'll be convinced.)

And, while Zupe at birth weighed only about 6% of my weight, he was over 34% as tall as I am! Of course, that 54 centimeters wasn't stretched out in my abdomen, but curled up in what is so appropriately called The Fetal Position.

I knew that and I knew he was head down for the last 4 to 6 weeks. But, it wasn't until he was born and I was looking at his body that I understood that the "foot" I was always shifting off my midline was more likely a knee. I never even considered that I was being "elbowed" by elbows and knees. I was only thinking about hands and feet (while still puzzling over why his feet would be so low - just under my umbilicus. Perhaps I spend too much time looking at and thinking about dog feet?)

OMG - this is so funny - I just looked at that photo and thought, wow! he was so little. That didn't take long!

An introduction that might do a better job at introducing

So, I'm Ann.

From Zuperfliegen

I'm what you might call a "late bloomer" entering motherhood in the same year I qualify for some "retirement villages". Once upon a time, let's call it January, I used to have a job for which I worked only 4 to 5 days each week between 9 and 6. Now, I have a job I work, as they say, 24:7...except for last night. I went to bed early and left Kevin in charge. This is all to say, relative to the rest of the tribe (or pack as some of us like to say), I'm boring.

The other members of the cast include :

From Zuperfliegen

My dear husband, Kevin. His responsibilities include family entertainment, zombie apocalypse planning, and, most recently, winner of bread. (Ironic since in an earlier incarnation he was the mastermind behind the winning OF bread. See "Night of the Living Bread", "Loaf", "Sandwich".) The man doesn't just have one great idea; he's got a million of them. Secret master of the bread universe (Damn! I don't think I was supposed to reveal that!) and ninja night mower. Superpower: close parking.

Zelda - first child.

From Singles 2011

Genetic problem has resulted in a very heavy hair-coat and inability to walk on two legs. Has recently become quite deaf. Generally unimpressed with Zuperfliegen. Responsibilities: napping and the protection of the house in all situations not related to zombies (or hearing). Superpower: able to bring down an entire veterinary clinic from inside a locked enclosure using only her mouth.

Zuperfliegen - Full name: Zuperfliegen Baadasssss.

From Zuperfliegen

Addition as of April 8. Though actually "postmature" he's managed to snag a developmental brain problem more associated with "premature" infants: Central Apnea. As a consequence, he's outfitted with a cool-o nasal cannula that delivers a constant sniff of extra oxygen. We figure it is probably ultimately related to his latent superpowers. Current sweet skills - spitting milk and sleeping through Zelda's dog alarms. And, he's pretty kissable.

An introduction

From Zuperfliegen

I'm feeling a little embarrassed that my primary blog is being overrun with Zuperfliegen. I'm aware that this would be expected. One: we're first time parents with a newborn. Two: I'm home all day with said newborn and having limited "other" experiences.

Wait. Did I say primary blog. I should have said both my photo blog AND my "wordy" blog. That would be two. I'm still able to count.

That's a good sign. Overall, my brain is a little scrambled. I'm not overly sleep deprived. Case in point: I'm not currently crying. Still, I've always needed 9 hours. I felt crappy with even 8. Now, I'm pretty lucky to work in 6 hours and those are interrupted. Still, these chunks feel good relative to late pregnancy sleep - also known as pauses between trips to urinate.

I have about 6 partial entries started on my regular blog. The question now is do I finish them and post them there? or here? Perhaps, initially, I'll post in both spots. Otherwise, my "real" blog might be a very, very, very lonely place.