...Continued from Under the Knife.
It’s hard to say what surprised me more—the fact that my son was sitting there on his little bed, breathing air, the fact that he was squeaking angrily at the nurses, or the fact that I had changed into a dad without having even been present. I was also surprised when I opened the door to wheel the kid out of surgery, and about a dozen girl babies were lined up outside, just waiting. That part was a little more easy to fathom.
After we got past the girl babies, Lindsay joined the little guy and me in the transitional room. Everyone asked us what his name was. We said we didn’t know. Actually, we did know, sort of. We’d whittled all the options down to just two choices, and had wisely given ourselves a whole month to choose the finalist before the baby arrived April 16.
While we were talking about how the baby didn’t have a name and how he was amazingly good looking, a new problem materialized.
I’ve pulled off some hard sells in my life, but what happened next was the masterstroke. Like I said, the youngster was extremely good looking, but also barely larger than a bull frog—a very handsome, human-looking frog, weighing 4 pounds, 8 ounces. Because he was so small, his blood sugar wasn’t up to par. I guess it was in the 30s, which is equivalent to having a room-temperature IQ—painfully low. The nurse told us that if it wasn’t above 50 within fifteen minutes, the baby would have to go spend some time under the bright lights. I picked up the bottle of formula, palmed my son, and got to work.
Wheedling and massaging was the initial approach, which met with limited success. I saw that the little man wasn’t buying it. No, something more imaginative would be needed. Listen, I said, you need to drink this formula. It will help your jumpshot. He just looked at me with a pained expression. Look at it this way: If you don’t drink it, the woman in the green scrubs will take you away from Mom.
POW.
I’ve never seen a baby chug before. I didn’t know they could. When the nurse came back in to take the measurement, the tyke’s blood sugar had soared to 83—which, as I understand it, is equivalent to genius level. We were back in business.
Now if we could just come up with a name.
To be continued...
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Baby Facts
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9 comments:
Slam Dunk--that should be his name. It certainly describes his arrival and your and Lindsay's aplomb as parents thus far.
God has richly blessed all of you.
I was thinking "Jay H. Vanderhorst".
Congrats to you and Lindsay - this is a beautiful gift God has given you.
Well done. I'm glad all is well. Now you just need to tell us where to send the "Baby Mizzou Tiger" gift sets.
Cheers.
Congrats, Ariel, and to your wife as well. He looks so adorable. What a wonderful creation of God. God bless your new adventure in parenthood.
I am so exceptionally happy for you all. Your kid sounds like a character already. And most importantly, that gives you one more person in the family that you can beat in Boggle... for a couple of years anyway.
My prayers to you and your continue.
CONGRATULATIONS!
I am truly enthralled by your latest arrival. You have been blessed in many ways. God has bestowed you a most wonderful gift. Enjoy the rapture. Maybe you can train the little one to blog. It would be really interesting to hear his perspective on life thus far. Line up the coffee filled bottles and dig in. I wait with baited breath for the stories that will unfold. Many happy moments are in store. See, I told you life is sweet, forget the bitter, at least for now. Good job.
Ariel,
The only real advice I'll give is that it doesn't hurt to wait until the last possible moment to give the boy his name. My wife and I had whittled the list down to 2 names. but after 4 days in the hospital with the little bugger, we didn't feel like either fit him and named him something else entirely.
So don't feel rushed. (Unless you are naming him Charles, and in that case - what are you waiting for? The boy needs a name!)
Seriously though, Susan and I are so happy for you guys!
Take care!
g
Thanks so much for the prayers and thoughts, everyone.
Had KU advanced to the Elite Eight, we were prepared to make Aidan's middle name "Jayhawk." Bill Self missed out.
R. Sherman, Aidan says he will welcome the Tiger apparel, as long as the price tags are left on. (You wouldn't believe the trash this kid talks.)
"Wow! Congratulations! You should get your wife . . . whatever she wants!!!"
I'm sorry, Sherry, but your comment will have to be supressed before Lindsay reads it.
"Maybe you can train the little one to blog. It would be really interesting to hear his perspective on life thus far. Line up the coffee filled bottles and dig in."
You're right, Alexys. And just this morning he was making a grab for my Roasterie coffee. Maybe I should start blogging with him on my lap. Then again, he might start trying to sneak over to the computer at night.
"So don't feel rushed. Unless you are naming him Charles..."
Gymbrall, "Charles" is perfect! That's just what we were looking for! Man, if only you had contacted me with the idea earlier...
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