Happy World Prematurity Awareness Day

From your friendly neighbourhood Preemie.

Lock up your outlets!

Max has been working on the fine art of crawling for a while now. When he's in his crib or on our bed he's all over the place, hands and knees motoring around. But he's been having trouble getting up on his knees while on the floor where there isn't as much traction. Today he mustered through the frustration of slipping around and got himself up and moving about. As the day wears on he's gotten better and better.

Because Max has gross motor delays we're even more excited by milestones like this one. He's about 4 months behind his corrected age in terms of gross motor skills. So, while he's 17 months old, and just about 14 months corrected, he's meeting gross motor milestones that most 9 or 10 month olds are hitting. He's getting there on his own time, just as he's been doing all along. We couldn't be happier with his progress and hard work.

He's pretty excited by his new found mobility too!

BOO!! My Thanksgiving and Halloween highlights.

I've been having a lot of fun lately! Mum says that even though it's getting cold and we have to spend a lot more time inside, that fall and winter are a lot of fun because there are lots of cool holidays to celebrate. Celebrating means having fun with family and lots of food. I might not get too excited about the food yet, but the family part is great! My Mum's Grandma - that makes her my Great Grandma (and she's super great!) - came to visit us from far away. It was great getting to see her, because the last time she came to visit I was still in the NICU and I don't remember too much of her visit. This time we got to play and it was so much fun. I even got a new toy!

Me and Mum waiting for dinner. Mum said it was delicious - I'll take her word for it.

This is me and Mum with my Great Grandma!

G-Grandma won't be here for Christmas, so she brought me Christmas early! Look at my new farm!

Taste testing the sheep while G-Grandma frees the rest of the farm from the packaging.

Okay Mum, enough with the pictures.

After Thanksgiving came Halloween. I'm told this might be confusing to our American friends and family, but that's the way it goes in Canada. This was my second Halloween, but this was my first one out in the big wide world, and therefore much more fun. I got to go visiting people, and I even went Trick or Treating with my cousins. That's where you yell at people's doors and they give you candy. I'm not sure why, but everyone was doing it. Everyone else was dressed up too, so I didn't feel out of place. What a relief!

I'm an aviator! I even have planes on my socks and my diaper - that makes me more official.

Me and Dad. I'm looking pretty important here.

Here I am with my big cousin Sophie...er...Minnie mouse. We're getting ready to go Trick or Treating!

Look at all my loot! Mum and Dad ate it all.

Except for this sucker. I got to inspect this for awhile.

I even had a taste!

That's Captain Max to you!

Hope you enjoyed checking out my holiday pictures! I can't wait for Christmas!

Fresh face, on the move.

It was back in May when I took the last photo for the blog banner. Max had just started sitting independently and was quite happy to sit on the couch like a big boy for a photo. I figured five months of growing called for an updated banner, so we took to the couch again for some new photos. Not only has Max gained a few inches, a few pounds, and a few curls, but he's also gained a few new moves. Let's just say Max doesn't like sitting still. He makes a rather handsome motion blur.

The old banner

Sitting is for shmucks!

Climbing is for kings!

The cats aren't in here!

We have lift off.

It's been a long time in the works, but we finally, officially have a puller-upper.

No such thing as a 'simple cold'.

It's been nearly 10 months since we've said goodbye to our days in the NICU. Long gone are the days of beeps and bells, pokes and prods, and the every day reminders that we have a baby that's not nop-notch in the health department. Our days don't look exactly like that of parents with typical babies, but for the most part it's pretty darn normal. So normal that it's easy for most people to forget that we have a baby that is medically fragile.

He's growing so big, and strong, and he's worlds away from the tiny, frail, sick baby he was in the NICU - surely he's healthy now and we don't need to be so "paranoid" about germs and his health. This is the sentiment we've begun to receive from people who aren't as close to our lives and understanding of Max's medical history. We continue to remind people that Max is more susceptible to illnesses and those illnesses can be much more serious for him. Yes, even something as simple as the common cold.

Saturday night marked our first trip to the ER with Max. He was having a fussy night, was not himself, and having what we thought was a reflux flare. I had to soothe him back to sleep a couple of times before I joined him in bed at midnight. Something was definitely amiss. He was tossing and turning, and his breathing was wheezy, and he gasped for breath when he cried. I called Rafael home from work and we headed to Children's Emergency. We spent close to three hours there, where Max got a generalized diagnosis of 'reactive airway disease episode'. He got a chest x-ray (which was the most uncomfortable looking thing ever), nebulized epinephrine, followed by salbutamol , and an oral dose of dexamethasone.  Once his breathing was back under control we were sent on our way with a second dose of dex and a prescription for a salbutamol puffer.

Not a fun way to spend a Saturday night.

 We woke up the next morning to a snotty, coughing baby. Ah...the common cold - and a very mild cold at that. We keep telling people that illnesses that would make you, or I, or your healthy kids grumpy, would likely send Max to the hospital. We were lucky to not have to test out that theory until now, and we're lucky it's just a cold. Already we've received flack from people (mostly unknowing coworkers and acquaintances of acquaintances) who know nothing of Max or his medical history who snicker at the overprotective parents taking their kid to the ER for a cold. You don't need to go to the hospital for the sniffles, ya know. We don't particularly enjoy having to defend our necessity for medical intervention to people who have no idea what it's like having a baby with a complicated medical history. But some people are lucky enough to never have to understand.

We'll always have to be a little more cautious, and illness are always going to carry a little more risk to Max than to a healthy kid. His immune system is not top notch and the damage to his lungs is not something that will ever go away. He will get stronger and healthier and more resilient with time, but for now we'll remain his cautious, over protective parents.

And so marks the beginning of cold, flu and RSV season.

Another Shoulda Woulda Birthday.

What's a Shoulda Woulda Birthday without cupcakes?

If Max had been born on his due date he would be one year old today. How time flies! This time last year Max was still in the NICU and we had no idea that we still had another three long months ahead of us before we crossed the finish line. Now we've been home together for nine months, and it feels like it's all happened in the blink of an eye.

Max was still pretty leery of food on his actual birthday in June, so we didn't offer him any cake (we feared coughing, gagging, and vomit spewing out of his nose in front of all his party guests); so I decided to make a batch of mini cupcakes to celebrate his shoulda woulda birthday. I mean, it's not like I even need a reason for cupcakes, but I was looking forward to seeing what Max might do with it.

As with the majority of his food, he mostly just played in it. I didn't catch it on camera, but he did eventually have a taste. He seemed pretty neutral about it. Perhaps one day he will share my fervor for cupcakes.



Since we've been home and getting out and about, people naturally stop and make conversation when you have a baby that's staring people down and excitedly yelling at them (in a completely friendly fashion of course). Whenever people would ask how old Max was, I'd choose one of two options:
 1) Tell them his actual age, and inevitably have to explain that he's so little because he's really like a baby three months younger and he was born early, and have a conversation much longer than I care to with a complete stranger.
2) Tell them his adjusted age, smile, and carry on my way.
 I usually went with option two.
Now that Max is one year adjusted, I can just say "He's one," and carry on. It's just one of those things you think about when you have a preemie.

I'm this many!

After our miserable July, August shaped up to be a pretty great month. Max's reflux is in check, he's keeping most of his food down and as a result he packed on more than a pound in a little over a month which takes him to a whopping 15lbs 12oz. After two months with essentially no gain, this is awesome! Sure, he's still little for a one year old, but he's growing on a nice curve and his doctors are happy with his progress. In another pound, or so, we'll all be embarking on a new adventure. A scary, exciting, hopefully game-changing adventure.

We 're forever grateful for the advances in medical science that not only have given us a living, thriving baby, but for the ability to have him home with us while being unable to eat. We're grateful for this little hunk of plastic, threaded through our baby's stomach, that allows us to nourish his body and help him to grow. But we're ready to move on. Max is ready to move on. He just doesn't know it yet.

Since Max was born and began to get tiny amounts of breast milk through a tube to his tummy, he's always been fed on a schedule. Because he's fed on a schedule, he's never been hungry. Without hunger, he has no motivation to eat. Sure, you and I can eat without being hungry. We can eat because we're bored, because we're sad, because we're happy, because we got a craving for something we saw on television; but we know how awesome food is, and we have long ago made the connection that food satisfies our hunger. Max hasn't been allowed to make this connection. He doesn't understand that this stuff I put on his high chair tray three or four times a day is meant to satisfy a feeling he's never had. Food serves no purpose for him, except as a flavourful plaything. So, to help him understand, we have to let him feel hunger.

Once Max reaches an acceptable weight, we are going to embark on a hunger-based weaning program. We will slowly be removing the number of meals he gets through his tube. Doing this will leave large gaps in his day between meals where he isn't being giving any calories, which will hopefully leave him feeling hungry. This new sensation will then hopefully awaken his hard-wired desire to eat. It's still in there somewhere, we just have to coax it out. Once Max starts to feed himself and pick up some of the slack, calorie-wise, we'll continue to reduce his tube feeds. While we're doing this we'll continue to keep him hydrated with his tube, and hopefully comfortable. We have to walk the fine balance between letting Max be so hungry that he becomes brave enough to eat, chew, swallow and go back for more, and letting him become so hungry that he starts to melt down and feel unwell.

Every fiber of my being, as a parent, says "feed your child!" It's going to be difficult to stand back and wait, watch, and let him figure this whole eating thing out. In preparation for the wean, we're allowing Max to have complete control over his meal times. We no longer try to feed him (not that he allows us anyway), and instead give him a wide variety of foods to touch, taste and explore. The push towards autonomy addresses the psychological aspect of the weaning process. Max needs to be in control of what's going in his mouth - much like anyone would want to be. He is becoming more comfortable and adventurous with food, and has become accustomed to at-the-table meal times being a part of his day. This will hopefully set the stage for a successful wean.

We're pretty nervous, and trying to be optimistic and realistic about the process. There are no promises that it will go smoothly, be easy, or happen without some tears (ours) - but we're very hopeful that by Max's second birthday, he'll be enjoying a giant cupcake with his name on it.