Ryan’s Wordsmithery

Today we finished the Book of Mormon again as a family. I told the kids about the promise in it and about praying to ask if it’s true.  When they were ready for bed I had them all come into the boy’s room and asked if any of them wanted to pray about it.

Josh was asleep already, and Elizabeth wanted to pray on her own. But Sariah and Ben wanted to.  Sariah went first and said a quick prayer asking if the scriptures were true. Then I helped Ben say one. Sariah then asked “now what?” and I said it was time to listen and see how you feel. I asked how they felt, they said “good”, and I talked to them about the good feelings that come from the Holy Ghost.

Ben was then trying to ask if we could do something, and I wasn’t understanding. He was lying on his back next to me on the ground and the lights were out. After he repeated it a few times I asked, “what do you mean?” He said, “Can we ask Heavenly Father ‘Is the Book of Mormon true?’”

Apparently he was wondering if he could just straight up ask, without the usual formalities of prayer. I said yes. He then said out loud, in a slightly raised voice “Heavenly Father, is the Book of Mormon true?” He then sat there looking up for about 2 or 3 seconds, and then turned to his side and put his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes to go to sleep. It seemed odd that he had done that so quickly, so I asked him what had happened.

Ben said, “He said ‘yes.’”

I said, “He said ‘yes?’”

“Yeah, in my thinking,” he said as he tapped his head, indicating that he had “heard” the words in his mind.

I asked him what He (God) said.

“He said ‘Yes, the Book of Mormon is true.’”

And that was that. A child’s simple prayer was answered. And now he knows it’s true for himself. He said it so matter-of-factly, I know he wasn’t making it up. Especially since we had only really mentioned feelings from the Holy Ghost, and hadn’t talked about how he can speak to our minds also. I wish I could get answers like that!

You walk through the doorway from the hall into a little washroom. You soap up and scrub your hands with a little sterile, packaged sponge with bristles on one side, scrubbing long enough to make you feel slightly OCD. After drying your hands, you buzz at the door and they look at you on the camera to make sure you’re not a baby-snatcher, and buzz you in. You pull on the handle with your sterile hands, wondering if it’s clean.

As you walk in you are met with sounds that are a strange cross between a library and a casino, but a feeling more like a church, since the NICU is like a little pit stop between heaven and earth. The harmonic pinging at different pitches from a dozen different pieces of equipment could make you wonder if someone’s winning at the slots (after all, this is Vegas). I suppose it makes sense to have musical sounds, rather than an “ENHHH ENHHH ENHHH” like a red light flashing in a movie cockpit, telling the pilot “…engine 1 is out too, you’re all about to die!” Instead it’s a soft pinging that brings to mind a woman’s soft voice saying, “excuse me, but the baby’s oxygen level is too low.”

And then there’s the low monotone hum of a half a dozen ventilators, reminding you of that peaceful feeling at night when you’re lying in bed, the day’s work done, with the fan going, lulling you to sleep.

Michael is not on one of these ventilators. He’s lying on a baby table with little protective guards on all four sides. He’s not wrapped in a blanket, so you might think he’s cold, but the heat lamp above him keeps him warm. In fact, when his temperature gets too warm, like when he cries, one of his machines adds its ping to the melody in the room.

He’s got a tube up to his nose, and one down his throat, and several sensors taped on his chest with teddy bear-shaped metallic stickers (which seem to downplay the fact that your newborn’s heart rate, respirations and oxygen level are being graphically displayed on a nearby screen). The tubes down his umbilical cord have been removed, and now he has a “pick-line” going in through his hand, to a vein, not an artery - which is not as big of a risk. This means that finally he can be held.

The nurse comes over to help. You can tell that Rebecca is reverently anxious. This is the moment she’s been waiting for, for two-and-a-half days, for two-and-a-half months, for three years. It’s the fulfillment of the blessing that said she would be able to hold him, and the hope and prayer that the previous ten seconds she had with him didn’t count.

The nurse has us pull over chairs and has Rebecca sit down so she can pass the baby to her. She asks me to turn off the video camera until Rebecca has the baby, and I comply, half-tempted to leave the camera running and pretend it was off. I wanted to record that first moment.

I stop Michael from pulling the tube out of his mouth (again), and the nurse re-tapes the oxygen tube to his nose, which he’s been pulling on too. The nurse maneuvers all of the wires and tubes, so that they will be able to reach to Rebecca. She shifts some, unplugs others, untwists and replugs them. They won’t quite reach, so she shifts some more. The process reminds me of what I go through each time I unplug my computer to fix something. Finally the cords are organized and she carefully picks up Michael and gently hands him to his mommy. There.

Mommy and baby enjoy their time together. I get pictures and video. He sits peacefully and chomps on his binkey as best he can with a tube running down his throat. The nurse brings a pillow to tuck under Rebecca’s arm, and then decides it would be best to also switch to the other chair with armrests. Rebecca hands over the baby, we swap chairs, and after some more fiddling with wires Rebecca gets him again. She talks to him quietly. He looks around a little, but mainly rests. After a while Rebecca says, “I guess you’re going to want to hold him too, huh?”

The nurse helps us switch, with some more shifting of cords. He fusses at first, and I fear that it will be a bad omen - he’ll be peaceful for Mommy, but will always cry for Daddy. I could picture Rebecca razzing me about it. But after a second he calms down and is just as peaceful as before.

As you look around, you can’t help but feel a little parental “survivors guilt”. He’s the biggest baby in the NICU. On either side of him there are babies in incubators - that’s what they call them. They look kinda like some contraption out of a science fiction movie where something is grown. The parents of those babies won’t be able to hold them for a long time. They are tiny. You can see one’s little leg stick up - it looks like a miniature doll leg, just skin and bones. Just one of Michael’s chubby yam thighs is probably as big as the other baby’s waist.

After my turn was done, it was time to go home, Rebecca too. She had spent as much time as possible there over the past couple of days, surprising some of the nurses. Michael has to stay for 7 days of antibiotics, as a precaution. All in all he’s doing very well. He had a mild infection, which I believe is pretty much gone. They had reduced the amount of oxygen they were giving him until it was almost nothing. They took him off it completely in the morning, but put him back on it a little later - not quite ready for that yet, but almost. They thought he might have a mild case of pulmonary hypertension, but he doesn’t. He does have a slight heart murmur - a small hole in his heart between ventricles, which is not a concern and should heal itself in a few months. He looks healthy and strong, much better than the blue baby on the table from a few days ago, when the only thing going for him was the fact that his heart was beating on its own.

We packed up Rebecca’s stuff and a nurse wheeled her down in a wheel chair (hospital policy) while I went and got the car. I’m sure she wanted to be strong in front of the nurse, but as soon as the car door closed she cried. Like I mentioned previously, you feel like you’re abandoning your newborn baby when you can’t be with him. But there’s nothing else you can do. So, like so much of life, you just keep on pluggin’, even when it hurts. But you keep in mind that time in the future when all the hurt will be gone, and everything will be ok.

Friday July 10, 2009

Michael is here! This is going to be long, essentially my journal, so bear with…

Ok, I figure I had better write this while it’s all fresh in my mind. Michael was born a few hours ago, and he and Rebecca are doing well. But it did not go very well. It was pretty scary for a while when he was lying on the table blue and looking lifeless. But let me give some background, and then I’ll get caught up to today.

Rebecca had a couple of miscarriages after Joshua was born. Then about 8 months ago Rebecca finds out she’s pregnant again, and thinks for sure it’s going to be a girl, but lo and behold the ultrasound reveals it’s a boy (or else a girl that’s making a rude gesture at the camera). Then on May 6^th I came home from a church meeting in the evening to her saying we needed to go to the hospital right away. She was spotting and having mild contractions – which had previously been signs of a miscarriage. Luckily Rebecca’s mom was at our house and was able to watch the kids as we raced off to the hospital. We drove quickly, unsure of what to do – go to the nearest hospital, or the hospital where the birth was supposed to happen (in 2 ½ months). It is very hard to try to pray and try to listen to God’s will when you are slightly panicked and want your will to happen. We were both praying that Michael would be ok, but fearing that the baby might not make it, and that the next baby would be Michael. We opted to go to a nearer hospital to save time, thinking every minute counts. When we got there, we went through the usual check-in procedure and paperwork (which always frustrates a worried parent – “C’mon people! My baby could be dying! Can’t you hook her up and check the baby, and sign the papers later!”)

While we waited in the room, she asked me for a blessing. As I got ready to give her the blessing, I was a little worried because I didn’t know what to say – I sometimes tend to forget where the blessings come from. This blessing was a neat experience for me because I know it didn’t come from me, I felt the things I was to say pretty clearly. I wrote it down a few minutes later. The blessing told her to be at ease, and not be worried – God has it all planned out. It said she would have Michael, and be able to hold him, when the time is right, and that he will be all right. When they finally hooked her up and checked everything, the baby was fine, and we were soon able to go home. We learned from this experience that this nearer hospital does not have the same ability to care for a newborn with problems, they don’t have a high-level NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) – so things could have turned out very different today if we didn’t know that, and had gone to the closer one this morning. Blessings in disguise!

Fast forward to June 25^th. Michael was about a month away from his due date and I got a call at work 10 minutes after I got there saying it was baby time. Rebecca was having contractions every few minutes. So I raced home (traffic was the best it’s ever been– no joke). Rebecca’s mom came over once again and off we went. We knew to go to the correct hospital this time. Once we got there the contractions slowed (of course). After talking with Rebecca’s doctor, the nurse had orders to give her up to three shots of terbutaline to calm the remaining contractions, and then send her home. The nurse said something about how the shot can make you feel a little funny, and just breathe through it. Rebecca seemed to be doing ok after the shot and the nurse left. Then Rebecca turned really pale and almost passed out. I figured it was normal based on what the nurse had said and held her hand and said to breathe through it. Then she had a really big contraction, and when it ended she said she was feeling better – not light headed any more. The problem was that I was watching the baby’s heart rate drop from around 160 beats per minute to about 60. I started to walk out to get the nurse and met one rushing to us and soon several others rushed in. They had Rebecca roll to her side to make sure the baby wasn’t sitting on his cord. After a long minute or two (and more silent prayers) his heart rate came back up. They decided to keep her and monitor her to make sure that didn’t happen again. Her doctor came in and checked her out, and later his specialist friend came in and checked her out. He did an ultrasound to make sure the cord was where it should be. Eventually they determined everything was ok and sent us home. The good thing that came of this was that they realized that the blood-thinning medication they had put her on to help prevent a miscarriage needed to be stopped before she went into labor, or it could cause her to hemorrhage when the baby is born. More blessings in disguise! Today could have been very different if they hadn’t realized that.

Fast forward to last Tuesday, July 7^th. We were driving around in the evening with the kids and Rebecca realized that she hadn’t felt Michael move much that day. She’s supposed to feel him move several times an hour. She was also having some minor contractions or cramping. She ate some sugary food, which is supposed to get the baby moving, and nothing happened. (When we were at the hospital last, they said if she didn’t feel him move about 6 times an hour, she should come in.) So we began to worry and called her parents and started to drive home to drop off the kids, wondering if we should just drive straight to the hospital instead. I was afraid the cord might be wrapped around his neck, and that his heart rate might have been dropped all day, and cause brain damage. I still have the image stuck in my mind of driving along a section of the freeway while praying that if it was God’s will that we have a special baby, that would be ok, He knows best. But if it was all right with Him, we’d like a healthy baby. Rebecca’s dad, and later her mom, came to watch the kids once again. For all this cryin’ wolf that we did, we should have set up a bed at our house for her parents, especially her mom! (Thanks mom!) So off we raced to the hospital once again. More prayers during a rushed car ride. It’s an interesting thing to try to drive fast enough to potentially save a life without jeopardizing your own. More hurried signing of papers and hospital routines, followed by a sigh of relief when the monitor first popped up with his heart rate up around 160. “Whew! He’s ok!” The blessing in disguise for this false alarm was that we learned about a road closed and detour on the way to the hospital.

Fast forward to last night. Rebecca was having some contractions that day. No biggie – she’s been having them for a long time. But at 2 a.m. she had a bunch of strong ones and woke me up to give her a blessing that she’d be able to tell when it was time to go to the hospital (so we wouldn’t have to cry wolf any more – especially not at 2 a.m.) As best I recall (at 2 a.m.), the blessing said that the “day was not yet, but would soon come” that Michael would come and that she would be able to sleep well, and know when it was time, and that things would be alright.

Well, I’ve written 2 pages worth, and I’m finally to today, July 10, 2009. This morning she was having contractions, and felt it was time. So, the usual – we called her mom, who came to watch the kids, and off we went. She was having lots of big contractions in the car. We got there and used the valet parking and rushed in. Luckily her doctor was there and came to check her out right after we got there. They admitted her and moved her to a room and started getting things ready to have a baby. Everything was the usual – she gets the monitors hooked up, gets examined and gets the epidural. I get the ice and feel grateful I’m a guy!

Her nurse is a young one – one I recognized from when Joshua was born three years ago. It took me a minute to realize that she was the one that was the nurse’s helper putting the goop in Josh’s eyes and giving him his shots. But when she gave him one of his shots in his leg, the needle slipped out of her hand after she stuck it in, and it bent over, still in his leg. She looked up to see if anyone had seen, and I was looking right at her, cringing on the inside. So, needless to say, I wasn’t too thrilled that she was now the nurse covering Rebecca for the full delivery. I didn’t feel right about asking for her to be switched, but said a little prayer that she might be switched. A little while later, when the baby’s charts weren’t looking as good as they wanted, the charge nurse came in and said they were switching nurses. The charge nurse asked which side the young nurse had left off on rotating Rebecca to – Rebecca informed her that she hadn’t been rotating her at all. The new nurse was older and more experienced. Things might have been a lot different if they hadn’t switched nurses.

The new nurse was switching Rebecca from side to side to try to get the baby to respond the way he should be. His heart rate was supposed to drop during contractions, and then rise back up, but it wasn’t dropping until after the contractions, which is not good. She felt the baby’s head, and it wasn’t aligning quite right so she had Rebecca sit up for a while to try to get the baby to move. We were all relaxed through all this, because we’ve been through this 4 times. Joshua was about 9 lb 8 oz when he was born, and he came out in half of a push. So we figured this would be easy. We each napped a bit.

The next 15 minutes are a bit of a blur. The order of events is a little jumbled in my mind, but I’ll do my best to relay them. Rebecca was resting and I had dozed off too. I awoke at about 12:30 in the afternoon to Rebecca asking me to give her a blessing that the baby will align correctly so that things will go well. I got up and went to her side and was about to put my hands on her head when the nurse came quickly in. She said they didn’t like the way the charts looked and that it was time to have the baby. This was a shock to me. The heart rate had been fairly steady, and to my untrained eyes everything seemed great. I thought if the baby wasn’t positioned quite right, just give it some time and it’ll be ok. It had worked out very well the past 4 times, especially with Josh being born in half a push. Then her doctor came in and said it was time to have the baby. They were going to break her water, hoping it would move the baby to where he needed to be. He said that breaking her water “could be good, or it could be VERY VERY BAD.” If it didn’t go well, they would have to do an emergency C-section, and he had them start getting ready for it just in case. At about this point I put my hand on Rebecca’s head and gave her a blessing (virtually silently). It said that everything would be ok and that it would be able to be done without a C-section.

He broke her water and there was a bunch of meconium (baby poop) in it - so they would have to suction his mouth and nose out before he took his first breath or he could get it into his lungs, which could cause serious complications. This was all happening so quickly, and I was still wondering why it was so rushed – everything had seemed so calm 3 minutes ago. I think the doctor left for a minute. People were asking about a C-section, and others were answering that the doctor wanted to wait a few minutes. He came back to check on her. He was about to leave again but the baby’s heart rate began to drop – I think to around 90 (blurry memory). He said they had to get the baby out now! That was about the point that tons of doctors and nurses were coming in and out, (or maybe a little before that). Everybody was doing everything rushed. They lowered the rear part of the bed and got everything in place super fast – pulling out monitors and tools, putting on gloves – everything was rushed. That wasn’t a good sign. He was apparently still at a zero position – meaning he hadn’t descended where he needed to be and was going to be hard to get out quickly. And she wasn’t fully dilated. They put her legs up and the doctor had her push. He said something like “boy, you can push”, which made me think things were going to be ok – she would be able to push him out easily, but that didn’t happen. The doctor joked about how Rebecca was making him work for his money on this one – he would rather feel like he was taking money for doing nothing (meaning he’d rather the delivery be easy). We said we’d rather it be that way too. They had her push more I think. He put in something, which I later found out was a suction cup attached to Michael’s head. He pumped the handle to get it to attach and was pulling on it – pretty hard. It didn’t fully register to me that he was trying to pull him out, and pulling HARD. They had put the little heart rate monitor thing on the baby’s head while he was still inside. At some point they took that off and put a monitor on her belly, and the heart rate seemed a little higher than before, which made me a little less worried. After probably only a couple of times trying to push, the doctor said “if he doesn’t come out in this next push, we’ll have to do a C-section”. I put my hand on her head and gave her another virtually silent blessing, which said that her body would move how it needed to move so that he could come out ok. And I prayed that it would be ok. They were waiting for the next contraction. When it came she pushed. The nurse was pushing on her belly and we were holding up her back. The doctor was pulling. Finally they made some progress and the baby started to come. They got his head out and suctioned out his mouth and nose as best they could before he could breathe his first breath. They started pulling him the rest of the way out, and when his shoulders cleared he kinda shot out. The doctor had to almost catch him as he nearly flew out. One of the doctors/nurses in the room said “good catch”.

Finally he was out and we thought the scare was over. Everything would be ok. They suctioned him some more and cut his cord. We heard one little yelp, and thought he would be fine. We waited for more cries, but they didn’t come. They handed him to the other doctors/nurses who put him on the little lit baby table and began to do the usual things. But he wasn’t responding much. They would rub him and wiggle him to try to annoy him into crying, but he didn’t seem to do much. He moved a little when they bugged him, but he was turning blue. They were doing everything rushed. It didn’t seem to be going well. I looked at Rebecca and could see the worry on her face. We were hoping to hear some crying, and were praying silently. I saw his belly move a couple of times, meaning he had taken a couple of breaths on his own, and told her he would be ok. He was still really blue and not responding much. He would wiggle a little as they wiggled him, but otherwise he would lie there motionless and blue, looking lifeless. They had a little pump thing they put over his mouth and were giving him puffs to get his lungs moving. One asked the other if they had gotten his heart rate. They hadn’t yet. They said hurriedly “ok get it” and stopped wiggling him while one put a stethoscope on his chest and I saw him hold out his hand and pulse up and down in the air with his first two fingers for about three quick beats, matching the rate of his heart. At least his heart was beating. Somewhere in this blur one of the nurses got on the phone and asked for something or someone (possibly the neonatologist), and said “I need it stat…STAT stat!” I took that as a bad sign. Things weren’t going well, he was blue, they were pumping his lungs, and ordering something “STAT stat!” My thoughts were a blur. I couldn’t give him a blessing, but had thoughts wondered if God would honor a blessing from a distance, could I say it from there (a few feet away) and it would work the same. I prayed and knew God answered prayers. I thought of the blessing I had given Rebecca a few months earlier – that he would be ok and that she would be able to hold him. My faith that he would be ok rested on that blessing and on the two doctors/nurses that were constantly wiggling him – they did it in a way that seemed to be normal for them. Maybe it was routine to have a blue baby not responding much. They didn’t appear as panicked as I felt, so that made me feel that it would hopefully be ok. All of this happened within about 5 minutes. They were talking to others – giving him an APGAR score. One said to the other – you have to take off one point for this, and you have to take off one point for that. I didn’t know what was going on. One asked if their protocol was to automatically admit him because of the score he got. I found out later that the score goes from zero to ten, and Michael scored a one. The only thing he had going for him was that his heart was beating on its own. Eventually he started to look a little better and gained some color and was breathing on his own. But he was grunting, meaning he was struggling a little. They wrapped him up and said he was going to have to go to the NICU right away. They took him over to Rebecca so she could hold him briefly before they took him. She got him for around ten seconds. I hoped that those ten seconds didn’t count as the only “you will get to hold him” in the previous blessing, I hoped there would be many more times. I got to go with them. Rebecca began to cry and asked me to just stay with him. I can’t imagine what she was feeling. Within the period of a half an hour she went from resting peacefully to an emergency birth and almost C-section, to watching her baby turn blue and wondering if he was alive, to him being taken away, and wondering if he would survive and she’d be able to see him alive again. As a parent you feel a little guilt if you can’t be with your baby right after it’s born – you somehow feel like you’re abandoning it. So she asked me to stay with him. She didn’t tell me this, but I know this must have been how she was feeling.

When they had first put him on the table I somehow noticed that his pinky toe on his left foot is bent slightly over his next toe – just like Benjamin has on his right foot. When your baby is taken away so quickly, you are worried that he could be swapped with someone else’s baby. I had the thought that his little toe would make it so I could identify him, so he couldn’t be swapped with another baby. That was a little reassuring. It’s interesting that Benjamin, who also had to be put in a NICU when he was about a day old, has a little bent toe, which reassured us back then. We’ve started calling them their “NICU toes”.

I went with a couple nurses as we wheeled him into the NICU, which wasn’t far away. He seemed to be fairly stable. The nurses were attending him when we got there. One asked me what his name was. My brain was a blur. I blanked for a second, and then said, “uh….Michael, Michael David”. They chuckled (they didn’t know what we had just been through, and that my brain was about spaghetti at that point), and I explained that we have 4 kids, and I had to go through their names in my mind. Someone else asked me something about then, and it took me a second to register that they were talking to me. I was just focusing on Michael, and what people were saying didn’t register at first.

He had some color, but his hands and feet were fairly blue. Sometime about then it occurred to me that I could now give him a blessing. I was still standing a few feet away for some reason, even though it was ok for me to get up closer. I guess my brain was having me allow the nurses room, even though they were on the sides. I stepped closer and put my hands out and lightly touched the little cap on his head with my fingers. (I had thoughts wondering if that was ok, and if I was going to get germs on him.) I once again gave a virtually silent blessing. I parted my lips so that my tongue could move a little, but it was said under my breath and in my mind. This blessing said “Michael David Briggs, but the authority of the Melchezidek Priesthood I bless you that you will be ok. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

The neonatologist had come in a bit before or after this and was looking at him. They had interrupted his lunch break. I wonder if he was the one who was called “STAT stat”. He was explaining things to me about IVs and how they might need to go in through the umbilical cord. He pointed out that Michael was grunting, and that wasn’t a good sign. He mentioned that he could have meconium in the lungs, which could cause complications. They might need to do antibiotics for 3 to 7 days. So he’d have to stay. They were going to take an X-ray, and might need to put him on a respirator.

Somewhere during (or perhaps right before) all of this, not too long after the first blessing, I put my fingers on him lightly and gave him another blessing. This blessing commanded his lungs to fully develop and his circulation to improve, as I looked down on his little blue hands and feet.

The neonatologist examined his head – he of course has a cone head, but a little extra due to the suction cup thing. He was checking him for any fluid collecting I think, and told me that touching their heads like this hurts the babies a lot, and normally they cry, but Michael didn’t make a sound. This wasn’t good he said. He continued explaining things to me, and had me sign some forms. He later examined his head again, and this time Michael gave a little yell. That was good, and was improvement. He had shown some signs of improvement in the short time I had talked with the neonatologist. He asked if I had any questions. I said “Is he going to be ok?” He said there was probably a ninety-something percent chance that he would go home without any problems. But they just have to watch things and see how they go. They’ll know better tomorrow.

They had me leave so they could put in the IV. “We have dads faint when we put in IVs”, they said. They said they were going to do things that are not nice to watch be done to a baby. So I left and went to Rebecca, and told her about his toe so she wouldn’t worry about him being switched with another baby, and explained what the doctor had told me.

They were switching Rebecca to a different room, and when she was situated and comfortable, I went to the cafeteria for a late lunch (so I wouldn’t pass out) and made phone calls to family. They had told me I could come back in an hour to see Michael. I checked on Rebecca and went to check on him. They needed a little more time. By that time Rebecca was feeling ok, so I wheeled her over in a wheelchair and we both got to see him. We scrubbed our hands at the entry, and went in. He was lying on his back with his hands extended. His hands were tied down and he was taped down at the belly and legs so he couldn’t move. He had tubes and wires everywhere. The IV hadn’t worked in his hand, so they went in through the umbilical chord – one tube to a vein and one to an artery. If they were to get pulled out, he could bleed to death really quickly. So they taped him down so he wouldn’t move, and don’t allow anyone to hold him while those are in. There were tubes up to his nose for a little oxygen, and one going down his throat. There were three or four sensors taped on his belly and one on his foot.

His color looked a lot better. He was pink, even his hands and feet. He can’t be bothered much, because if he gets too much stimulation, it can cause his condition to worsen. But we were allowed to hold his little hand. He would squeeze our fingers. The doctor said that he didn’t need to be on the breathing machine, which was a good sign. He was breathing well, but slightly labored. The X-ray showed a little stuff in his lungs. We’ll know more tomorrow when they X-ray again. This much is for sure – he looks a lot better than the two premies that he is placed between. He weighs 9 lb 2 oz!! The babies next to him are tiny.

They stop visiting hours for an hour and a half each morning and evening. When we came back he was awake and sucking on a binky. When it popped out he started to scream. That is a good sign, he’s improved a bunch (but they don’t want him to cry, so we have to keep the binky in).

Rebecca stayed with him for a while longer and I came home to be with the kids and allow Rebecca’s mom to go home. We’re grateful to her for watching them so much!

So it’s been a long day. It’s been a bit scary. And even though we can’t hold him right now, we know he’ll be ok. God knew it would be ok a few months ago, when he said Michael would be ok, and reassured Rebecca that she would be able to hold him. All of the blessings and prayers have been answered, and he is doing well (and Rebecca too).

It’s interesting how so much of life is routine. You go through the same motions, do the same things. It’s just normal, inconsequential, almost boring. And then you have those small moments or days that turn your world upside down, and show you what is really important. And they shape the rest of your life to some degree, change your direction. They are days about which you can write 7 type-written single-spaced pages in your journal. Then it’s back to the normal routine, but along a slightly adjusted path. This is the pathway home. We endure the challenges and enjoy the ride. I’m looking forward to the short-journal-entry days to come!

That’s right folks, you read it correctly.  I’m quitting my job…and becoming a FARMER!!  Ok, I’m not really quitting my job, but I thought that title might make you more interested in reading a post about my garden than a title like “Check out my cool garden”.  Let me ’splane it to ya…

As you may know, a couple of months ago I decided it was about time to put in a garden.  The main reason why I wanted this house in the first place (instead of others we looked at) was that we would have a yard big enough to actually have a decent garden, and we haven’t done anything until now.

So I looked on craigslist to see if anyone had any free organic dirt.  For some reason, no one had any, nor any free gold, diamonds, or signed velvet Elvis paintings.  Go figure!  But I did find a landscaping company selling dirt for $14 a ton (including delivery).  That was less than half what other places wanted, so I called them and ordered 5 tons.  They had FREE tree mulch too, which they threw on with no additional cost for delivery, and brought it that day.

I got home from work to a couple of mountains almost as tall as I was in the street (I should have gotten a picture).  “Sweet!  That’s gonna be fun to move!”   So the next morning I moved the rocks and paver border (which was a job in and of itself) and began moving the mulch.  I think the company wanted to get rid of the mulch, cause they gave me probably twice as much as I had asked for.  I was expecting to put down about a 3″ layer of mulch, but ended up with 6-8″.  Luckily I had several people in the ward volunteer to help.  Then we put the dirt on top.  You can see the progression in the collage below.  After the dirt, I put down some cow manure, put up a fence to keep the kids out (didn’t have a dog at the time), and put out a soaker hose.  The next week I hooked the soaker hose up to our sprinkler system (another job in and of itself).

Then finished with the pavers and rocks, and was very proud when it looked like this:

The kids had fun planting the seeds with me, and we all liked to look and see what new had sprouted every day.   I was pretty proud when it looked like this  (this is with tomato starters, in the middle):

BUT LOOK AT IT NOW!!!!:

I know what you’re thinking, and NO, I did NOT photoshop in a bunch of pictures from South American rainforests.  This actually a SWEET garden in VEGAS!

We have:

• Corn
• 5 types of tomato (~30 plants)
• Sugar snap peas
• Radishes
• Celery
• Broccoli
• Cauliflower
• Spinach
• 3 types of lettuce
• Carrots
• 3 types of onion
• Zucchini
• Cantaloupe
• Peppers
• Cilantro
• Blackberries
• Raspberries
• Strawberries

Look at this lettuce!  In Vegas!!!  Did you know anything could be this green in Vegas?:

Like I said, we have 3 types of lettuce, and so for dinner we just go out, and pick the outside leaves of a few, and leave the heads.  They just keep growing, and we just keep eating.  We’re probably eating healthier now than ever before!

As you can see below, the kids love the garden (almost as much as I do) - especially the corn.  Rebecca and I each have childhood memories of playing in our grandpas’ rows of corn, so we understand their excitement.  (We’re going to plant a “sunflower fort” tomorrow - plant sunflowers in a circle, and when they get tall, tie their heads together and let the kids play in it).  Top right - Midnight also likes the garden, especially the onions.  For some reason she will just go and sit in the onion patch, and chew on the tops of the onions.  Weird!  Lower left corner shows the extra chicken wire fence I had to add when Cujo learned to climb the “not ugly” one I put in (grumble, grumble).  In the lower right corner you can see what Cujo did to my lettuce when he got in today (Sunday) since I had the fence partially down to put in a gate yesterday and didn’t finish.   I was NOT happy, and he got in BIG TROUBLE!

All in all, we’ve spent $400 on the garden, including dirt, hoses, fences - plural , manure, and seeds.  That even includes about $20 for about 5 months worth of Miracle-Gro, which I spray weekly (with some liquid hand soap mixed in to keep the bugs away - dries them up!).  We may not make that money back in this first season, but I think it will pay for itself after a couple of seasons.

But if not, the other benefits are well worth it.  Like I said, we’re eating healthier.  It’s also nice to come home after a stressful day and be able to go out in the garden with the kids and see how much bigger everything has gotten in the last 24 hours :)  And I love seeing the fruits of our labor, er, vegetables.  And it’s helping teach the kids to work too.   (That’s TOTALLY worth $400!!)

I hope this doesn’t sound braggy.  I’m just really excited about this garden (as you can tell).  I didn’t expect it to turn out this well.  All in all, I really believe that we’re seeing the blessings of paying tithes and offerings.  I’ve had ideas, and help , and “good luck” along the way that I believe are a direct result of the Lord “rebuking the devourer” and “opening the windows of heaven”.  I also think we’re going to have so many tomatoes that we “won’t have room to receive them”.  :)  So come visit, and come hungry!

Here’s what I commented on Erik’s blog about Prop 8. Thought I’d post it so that everyone could see it if they didn’t read the comments to his blog:

One thing to comment on. I agree with everything you’ve said. Like you’ve pointed out, the “No on 8″ arguments cannot stand up to logic. They are fairly childish arguments, and the people who are protesting are acting like a bunch of little children who had to give a toy back to the kid that actually owned it.

But the scary thing is that Prop 8 barely passed. The logic is so clear to us, but it BARELY passed. So while their arguments are childish and illogical, they are also ingenius and extremely calculated. They are playing off of people’s emotions, not logic. They are succeeding in calling good evil and evil good. The world’s perceptions are changing, in spite of the logical arguments to the contrary. THAT is scary.

It shows that there is a mastermind behind it all, and he is very old and very experienced. As I understand, he was able to bring down the Roman Empire with the same sort of issues. He is very good at changing and corrupting laws. He is skilled at changing people’s views and hearts. And he has brought down nation after nation, people after people.

How do you fight against something like that? Logic doesn’t necessarily work when you’re dealing with people’s emotions. I’m not sure what the answer is. It may have something to do with teaching to both the HEART and the MIND - the way the Spirit does. That can involve both emotions and logic.

I think we have to keep our guards up. We have to safeguard ourselves and our families, and follow the truth. We have to guard our hearts and minds. We know who’s side we’re on, and He knows the beginning from the end, so we have nothing to worry about, as long as we stay the course.

Let’s keep up the fight for right.

So yesterday I was relaxing in our new “Family Room” (I”ll blog more about that later) and I heard the kids playing. They had gone towards my bathroom and Sariah said something like “Ben thought he took medicine, but it was poison!”

I was about 99 percent sure they were just playing, but decided to check, in case they did have some bottle of medicine or something that they shouldn”t be playing with.

As I came around the corner, I saw Benjamin lying on his back on the ground near the stairs, with his arms spread out (i.e. appearing “dead”). Sariah and Elizabeth were on their knees around him, looking concerned.

Elizabeth said something about needing to kiss him to wake him up (a little Sleeping Beauty or Snow White in reverse??). So she leaned over him slowly and gave him a kiss on the lips, and gently sat back up to see the results. (And I tried not to laugh.)

After a couple of seconds, Ben quickly popped his head up and said, “NOPE! DIDN”T WORK!” and popped his head back down, eyes closed.

Ya gotta love kids!