Phly, boy, phly
the weblog and site of Matthew Weier O'Phinney

Don't know if this is actually possible, but it appears Liam is already starting to associate names with people!

Just now, Jen was holding Liam, and turned him to face Maeve and I, who were sitting on the couch. He wasn't looking anywhere in particular. Then, Jen said, "Hi, Papa!" and his eyes moved to focus on me. A moment later, she said, "Hi, big sister!" and he moved is eyes to focus on Maeve.

As I type this, Jen just tried the experiment again with Maeve, and again he moved his eyes and head to look at her!

How cool and amazing it is to witness child development!

Liam turned one month old today, and I was not there to celebrate. I miss the little guy.

Jen tells me that his one month checkup went well. The little man is not so little anymore: he now weighs in at 6 pounds 1 oz (a pound in a week! and 2.5 pounds since birth!), and measures at 18.75 inches (two inches!). Jen tells me he has developed a third chin since I left two days ago.

More importantly, the doctors say he's doing so well that he no longer needs us to wake him to feed! He's completely recovered from his low blood sugar, and, indeed, is thriving.

Not being home, I have no pictures to post. But you can view the archives to get your Liam fix, just as I'm doing now.

Happy one-month birthday, little guy!

Yesterday, after 14 days in the hospital, Liam came home!

He gained a full half-pound while in the NICU, eats like a horse, and is a sweet little man. We're all happy to have both him and Mommy back home; Maeve was particularly excited, and performed a little dance at daycare when I told her the whole family was home waiting for her.

Thank you, everyone, for the support over the past two weeks! And welcome home, Liam!

This has been one of the toughest 10 days of my life. Our little boy, Liam, has been, and continues to be, in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) at Fletcher Allen Hospital in Burlington, fighting to come home. I divide my time between home, work, and the hospital; Jen stays up there at night to make sure he eats well; Maeve keeps asking when Jen and Liam are going to come home; and Cuervo just wonders when she's going to be on a regular schedule for walks again.

If Jen's parents hadn't been here last week to take care of us all, I think I would have gone insane. We've met several other parents who have been there many weeks, with many weeks still ahead, and I wonder how they can do it, how they can keep up hope.

Liam is doing well, actually. The round of antibiotics is done, phototreatment ended last week, and he has passed the "eat, pee, poop, and act like a baby" requirement to come home. However, his blood sugar has taken quite some time to stabilize.

The doctors think that because Liam was born into a cold environment, and hadn't had a chance to develop blood sugar reserves (because he was born early), he's simply been catching up. They have wanted the weaning process of removing him from the glucose drip to be closely monitored and gradual, because if his blood sugar gets too low, it could affect brain development.

So, for the past week, poor Liam's been having his little feet pricked every 3-4 hours so they can test blood sugar, and if the numbers are high enough enough times in succession, they titrate the glucose solution. The poor kid's heels are puffy and striated with little red marks, and even the nurses are tut-tutting every time they have to do it. Every time his numbers are high enough to turn down the drip, there's a little cheer from us, and we start counting the feedings until he can come off it.

Tonight it all paid off -- they finally were able to take him off the IV. I was holding him at the time that they flushed the line and removed it (though he retains an IV in his arm just in case they should need to re-attach him later). Liam was wide awake, rooting for a nipple, and happy as could be. My heart swelled to be able to pick him up and walk him around the NICU, untethered for the first time since he was born.

I found Jen and Maeve in the breastfeeding room, reading stories. I handed him to Jen, shut the door, and, for the first time, the four of us got to spend some time alone, just us. It didn't last forever, but it was a good start.

Please send some positive energy Liam's way over the next day -- if the blood sugar stays up, he'll be able to come home with his loving family so we can begin our new life with him!

Liam Patrick O'Phinney was born Saturday, 20 August 2005, at around 9:40am, weighing 3 pounds, 7 oz! Read on for more details -- the story behind the birth is an unusual and exciting ride! However, if you're squeamish, there's some pretty... graphic... detail below, so be warned.

This past year, Maeve had a month-long unit on Safaris and jungle animals at daycare. One day, she came home singing:

On Safari, on Safari,
In a jeep, in a jeep,
I can see a lion, I will take a picture,
Click, click, click. Click, click, click.

On Safari, on Safari,
In a jeep, in a jeep,
I can see a tiger, I will take a picture,
Click, click, click. Click, click, click.

And so on.

There's a place just over the Quebec border called Parc Safari that we've been hearing about, and today we went up there on a family outing -- one of the last that we'll have with just the three of us (before little Liam is born).

Not long ago, as Maeve and I were en route to Jen's work one evening, Maeve was being very insistent that certain things were a certain way, and was very adamant even as I used a placating tone with her. I asked her, jokingly, "Why are you so contrary today?" Her reply?

"Because I'm so smart, and because I'm so right."

I almost wrecked the car as I guffawed. Kids. They're so dang cute. And so right!

So, last night, Maeve fell asleep in the early evening, on the couch, clutching her sippy cup and sucking on her bink while watching Scooby Doo. She woke up an hour later, and after she'd been up for a while and was less groggy, she announced to Jen and me that, "I'm not going to use my bink ANY MORE. Every little girl has to give up the bink some time, when they're four, so I'm not going to use the bink EVER AGAIN." (Imagine dramatic pauses between the all-caps words there...)

This coming from the girl who has a fit every time her bink isn't within eyesight and reach. Needless to say, we didn't quite believe her, but we were willing to support her. We told her that if she wants to stop using the bink, that's okay; it's also okay if she decides to use it again. (Fully expecting she'd want it within minutes of going to bed.)

Well... Maeve slept all night without it, and didn't want it this morning, nor in the car. She's adamant, our little warrior queen! (Which is what the Gaelic Maeve translates to in English, in case you were wondering.)

I might be jumping the gun here, but I get the feeling our little girl has taken another step in growing up... and I'm bewildered and a little sad. Much as I've hated the bink the past year, I also associate it with my little girl... and she's getting so she's not so little any more!

UPDATE: I jumped the gun. She did go a full 24 hours, but the following night decided she wanted the bink again. But there is hope for a bink-less future...