A Month For A Cause

The past two-and-a-half months have been a whirlwind of emotion--there's no doubt about that. Each day I make at least five requests of Annie, my mother, my mother-in-law or whoever is around Etta that day to send me pictures.

Each day, I anticipate work ending more and more. I can't wait to get home to see this little girl. I can't wait to hold her. To feed her. To change her. To walk with her. And to love and be loved by her.

I have never felt a sense of responsibility and pride in another human more than I do in Etta. I've never felt the desire to protect and defend another person more than her--and I'm reminded every day just how special, precious, and significant her life is in my hands.

I hope I can an effective dad and friend to her.

Today, I saw a Facebook friend of mine, who has recently lost a child,  post a link about children suffering from cancer--namely those children that have been diagnosed with or were taken by Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma. I clicked on the link about myriads of medical professionals who fight daily to defeat this disease and, as I'm prone to do on Facebook, ended up clicking three or four other links that eventually led me to a a series of slideshows that featured children that have suffered from various forms of cancer--including DIPG.

My heart broke.

I've learned that September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, and it's something that's been on my mind for the first few days of the month.

I look up to those parents, family members, and friends of those children that have suffered and fell victim to these diseases. With every click I made on the slideshow and with every reveal of the next child who has suffered, been diagnosed with or even died from this disease, I thought of my little Etta.

I would do anything for her. I would fight for her. I would easily die for her. I would give up everything to keep her safe, and it breaks my heart to think of parents who feel like I do and had to watch their children go through difficult situations and trials.

And while the parents are proud of their children for fighting hard--in many cases to the very end, I know that those children that have passed are somewhere better--extremely proud of their parents for how hard their parents fought during those times.

I resolved to help more. I don't know how, but I will find a way to help.

I started with this website, http://www.dipg.org/, and I am hoping to find a way to be more involved in helping end this. If you can donate anything, I know it would be greatly appreciated and used with the utmost care and attention to helping cure these diseases.

This song is by J.R. Richards and it is an amazing message and a beautifully shot video and I think about it often when I look through the pictures and videos of those kids that have gone too soon, but who haven't left us for good.

My little Etta is a healthy, growing little girl, and I won't take that for granted. I will take advantage of all the time I'm afforded to be with her and I want to help other parents, who are struggling with these diseases in their homes, to have more time with their children.

The Queen's Jester

I've realized that this little girl, pictured here with two of her cousins, Lily and Faith,  is the Queen of our home.

Annie is her maiden, nurturer, and care giver and the Queen relies on her for everything. The Queen prefers her care giver to put her to sleep and to rock her comfortably to her iPod full of tiny person songs.

As for me, the Queen allows me to be a part of her kingdom--as the Jester. She prefers me in small doses (insert obvious "who doesn't?" joke here). She wants me around, but she wants me to entertain her.

She wants me to lay down next to her by her toy in the living room. She wants me to bounce her up and down while walking around. She wants me to tickle her. But if I try to put her to sleep, it's off with my head.

And I am just fine with that! I just want her to want me around. I want her to laugh at me and be entertained by me. I want to spend hours laying on that toy next to her. I want to tickle her tiny toes. And, I want to continue trying to put her to sleep because I think it's funny that she knows the difference and has a preference.

Here is a list of things that the Queen likes or dislikes about her Jester:

- She LOVES it when I sing "I Would Do Anything For Love" by Meatloaf to her while spinning her around and dancing with her.

- She hates my British accent and doesn't like when I carry on conversations with her as a British gent.

- She digs my version of the robot dance.

-She loves games of peek-a-boo...although, that's not exclusive to me as she thoroughly enjoys that game with everyone. But I like to think I discovered her love of the game and that she credits me with inventing the game.

- She likes it when I put her diaper on her head as a hat, and she likes it even more when I put her diaper on my head as a hat.

- She's a little hesitant when I hold her under arms and laugh at her bare bottom in the mirror....as I think we all would be in that situation.

- She loves watching Braves games with me (I'm assuming this one as she's still never made it through an entire nine inning game).

Basically, I've accepted my role of Jester and I love it. I want to always be this Queen's Jester. I want to always be a part of her kingdom.

I can't wait for the day when she not only enjoys my version of the robot dance, but joins me.

Something tells me she can pop and lock. :)

Homesickness

Editors Note: Big thanks to Stephanie Hedberg for the wonderful family photos below. She's great. We love her!

Lately Little E has been hitting a certain time of the night (around 8 or 9pm) where she has a meltdown and freaks out for about an hour or so. She gets so hysterical sometimes and it's just the saddest thing in the world to witness.

I call it her "time of the day" and I am using it as practice for that time when I will have to deal with her "time of the month"--something that I know is going to be a whirlwind around these parts.

The first few times I was privy to being with her for a meltdown broke my heart. I was so sad as I held her and she screamed and screamed and screamed. The only tears bigger than hers during those times were mine.

Usually I hold her close to me, almost like she's in a baby bjorn, but it's my arms. The problem is, being that close, she would sense my stress levels and I think she could tell that I was helpless and didn't know how to help alleviate whatever was ailing her. We would walk around the house, but she would just continue crying and I would continue being frustrated that I couldn't help and we'd usually end up finding Annie as fast as we could or having to go to separate rooms. I even said, out loud, to her once "Etta, darling, I can't help you if you don't tell me whats wrong." Then I realized that she was four weeks old and I was an idiot.

The last few days I have tried a different approach, and I think it's working. I keep her in that baby bjorn hold, minus the baby bjorn. From there, I walk up and down the sidewalk in front of our house, in the backyard or even around her room. During our walks, she's crying to start with, sometimes even hysterically, but I am keeping my cool. I'm talking to her, much like you would talk to an adult who was in peril.

I'm telling her how much we love her and that I'm sorry I can't help with whatever is bothering her right now, but she is just fine and she can calm down. Now, I realize that she can't understand WHAT I'm saying, but I think she can understand fully HOW I'm saying. She usually screams for a minute or so, then as I talk through it, she starts to scream intermittently before finally she stops screaming and commences smiling and then concludes with falling asleep.

Tonight as she and I were walking back and forth on the green rug in her room, I had a thought. Maybe she is just crying because she's sad that she isn't around the people that she knew and loved before coming here to be with us. Maybe she really is a little homesick. So, I asked my little seven week old if that was the problem. I asked her if she was sad because she missed Papa Wally and Grandma Flanagan. Was she sad because Bev and Roland weren't around? Did she miss Ray McCoy (because I'm convinced he was on the preparation committee that I'm convinced exists for all babies coming to earth). Did she miss being around my Grandpa Kuehnau? I'm sure I missed some people who were on that committee, but I think she was relieved.

She calmed down and even kind of smiled. It was almost like she was relieved that I finally got it. That I finally understood why she was sad. She was so happy that we were on the same page.

It was probably just gas passing that made her calm down, but I'm saying a combination of the two.

Once she calmed down, I told her that I knew she missed some very important people and I knew she was kind of out of her comfort zone. Then I promised her that we would do everything we could to make sure she was always happy.

She went cross-eyed and coughed (which I am taking as "no problem dad, we can do this together").

Then she fell asleep. (I should mention that minutes later she tried to adjust her head to get more comfortable and immediately slammed it into my chest which awoke her and shot her into a frenzy...but I'm attributing that to slamming her head on my chest rather than homesickness).

I calmed her down again from slamming her head into my chest and we moved forward with her nightly routine. She went right to sleep--where I'm sure she'll remain until well into the morning.

I can't say that I blame her. Being homesick is never any fun. But once we adjust to our new home, you never want to leave.

I only hope that even when she's older and leaves our house, she'll continue to return for walks with her daddy.

One Month Old

I've mentioned before that my sisters are great examples to me on so many levels--both of them have been a treat to watch grow up and become the women that they are today. 


My sister Karissa, at least for the first year of her kid's lives, wrote them a letter each month--something I think I've mentioned on this blog before. I love the idea and now that I have a beautiful little girl that is one month old, I think I'll take the opportunity to offer a letter to Little E. 

Etta,

To say that I can't believe that you are already a month old would be a gross understatement. It blows my mind that I am sitting here writing a letter to you about your first month with your mom and I. This last month has easily been the best month of my life. I have cried so many happy tears that it's easily drowned out any sad tears I've ever cried.

I can sit and watch you for hours. You are growing so much! You love to eat and when you are hungry you want to eat...at that very moment...no exceptions. You will be so peaceful and happy and then, like a light switch, you will want to eat and you will make sure we all know it. Once you start eating a peaceful calm comes over you and you settle back into being such a happy little girl.

When you're done eating you smile and relax...so happy!

You love to sleep and you are such a good sleeper! We go through our nightly routine around 10pm or 11pm every night and you sleep until about 4am or 5am with no issues at all (until you awake and realize that you are hungry--see paragraph above).

If you don't awake suddenly with the desire to eat, you take your time waking up. You stretch and grunt and squirm for nearly a half hour before finally waking up completely and then...see paragraph about eating.

You LOVE to be with your mommy. Sometimes you are so squirmy and fussy and the only thing that makes you settle down is to have your mommy hold you. You love her so much and and it's so fun to watch you two. She loves you very much and would do anything to keep you happy.

Mommy's been putting you in the bjorn lately and you can't get enough of that either--you're very happy so long as you are with mom.

You and your mom are soooooo much alike in so may ways. One time when I was leaving for work in the morning I went in our room to say goodbye. You and mommy were stretching and grunting in the same manner right next to each other as I was saying bye. You both hate waking up and it is such a chore for you to do. Unless you are really hungry (see paragraph above about eating).

Your hair is hanging on, but it may be heading out soon. We shall see. If it stays congratulations, if it goes, I'm sorry. I can't help but take the blame for that. ;)

You've had so many visitors and there are so many people that love you and I know you are going to be such a great person.

We love you so much and we can't wait to continue watching you grow strong!



Here's to another great month!

Love,

Dad

21 Days Down

We've had 21 days with little Etta now and it's been an amazing experience! Clearly there is still so much more to learn and so much more to adapt to--for all three of us, but so far, we've learned so much and I feel like we are all getting along so great!

To celebrate Little E's 21 days of being with us, I've made a list of 10 facts about Etta and things that I've learned about Etta since she's been with us.

I realize that most of these things are not exclusive to Etta and they probably apply to most babies, but still, they're things I've learned about Etta.

So, in no particular order, here they are:

1. She hates waking up. She's just like her mother and, in fact, I've watched them both wake up at the same time and it's the same routine--stretching and grunting and trying at all costs to avoid waking up but eventually succumbing to being awake and actually being quite upset with the first person they see (me) when awake.

2. She loves to stretch. She'll put her legs straight out and keep them stretched while having her arms way above her head. She loves stretching.

3. She doesn't care to be swaddled. This coincides with number 2 above. We forced her to swaddle for a little while because that's what we were told.  "Babies love to be swaddled. Swaddle her." We would swaddle her and then second later she would bust her arms out of the swaddling (no matter how tight we swaddled). As soon as her arms were out, she would settle right down and sleep.

4. Field goal sleeper. She loves to sleep with her arms up--much like a football referee signaling a successful field goal.

 5. There are parts of her neck that I KNOW haven't seen the light of day. But that's ok, it's super cute!

6. She's a loud pooper.

7. Her cheeks aren't just swelling. Her swelling went away quickly, but we've learned that her cheeks aren't swelling. They're just gigantic.

8. She doesn't care to lay completely flat. We have to prop her up just a little bit in her basinet. We were using a boppy to do that, but now she just naps in her boppy. At nights, we put some blankets under her basinet pad.


9. She hasn't quite made it through a Braves game yet--although she's worn more Braves clothing than most babies her age. She's usually good for half an inning or a full inning, but beyond that, she's not really interested.


10. When she wants to eat, she expects to eat. She will go from peaceful, sleeping baby to psycho baby in a split second--because she's hungry. And when she eats, she EATS! The girl slams food like she literally won't ever eat again and has to store up.






In summation, we love Etta so much! We can't imagine what life without her would be like. She's the perfect fit for our little family. She is an angel. And we feel so lucky to have her .

Etta Marae Flanagan: June 11, 2012

Since I was very young, I've always been told (and I've since confirmed it) that I walk with a bounce in my step. It was never for any reason. It's not like I thought I was so cool that I bounced when I walked.

It's really not even some type of structure issue within my ankles, I don't think. It's just been the way I've walked for most of my life.

But today, while returning from the hospital cafe with lunch, I caught myself bouncing in a reflection of a window. I thought about my bounce and realized that, for probably the first time in my life, I had a major reason for being proud enough of something that I bounce when I walk.

That reason: The lovely Etta Marae Flanagan. Born June 11, 2012 at 3:15am. Weighing in at a whopping 8.72 pounds and measuring at 20 1/2 inches long. She's beautiful. She's complete. She's my bounce.

She's everything I thought she would be. She's perfect.

In fact, she's the only thing I've ever done perfectly. She's the only perfect thing in this hospital room. She's the only perfect thing in our home.

I've been with her everywhere she's been since she's arrived here at the hospital. From the minute she was born, I was there. I walked through all the testing in the delivery room with the doctors. I accompanied little Etta to the nursery for more testing and her first bath.

She held my finger when her hepatitis B shot hurt her little (not so little) thigh. Later in the day, I was there when the pediatrician visited her and told me she was a "perfect and healthy little girl."

I changed her first diaper. Her first sneeze was on my hand. Her first attempt at a bottle was with me.

I realize that there is so much more to come with little Etta, and I probably won't always be able to be with her. But for the first 13 hours of her life, it's been she and I.

Her mommy did such an amazing job with Etta. She worked so hard to get Etta here. She persevered through the process like she'd been preparing her whole life for it. She earned her rest. She deserves some rest.

I remember looking at a little baby a couple of months ago at church and thinking just how perfect that little baby was and how happy his parents must be to have a little piece of perfection in their home.

I remember thinking that I was so excited to have some perfection in my own life.

I didn't realize just how amazing it really would be. I didn't know that I could hold perfection. That I could kiss perfection. And that I could cuddle with perfection.

Now I know, and it's a feeling I don't ever want to forget.

Etta Marae Flanagan. 8.72lbs. 20 1/2 Inches.

Ever.

Due Date 40 Week Update

Well, the due date has come and gone and we are sitting in our bed at home and not at the hospital. BUT, I think we're getting close, in fact, I know we are down to six days left, tops.

While we aren't quite to the point of Mrs. O'Hare from the comic, our one day overdue sure feels like 37 days.

In our 40 week appointment, the doctors said that we could go any time between now and the 15th (which is next Friday and feels like an eternity away...especially for The Big A). If the baby isn't born by the 15th then we will head in for inducing on that day--it's in the books and already scheduled.

We're really hoping that The News will decide to come earlier though--I know Annie wants that.

But what we want more than anything is a healthy baby. We want a baby that is prepared completely for the time with us.

And if it takes six more days for that baby to be prepared (or forced to be prepared at that point, haha), then that's what we will do.

One day or six days, we know one thing, this baby is coming soon.

Follow along for daily updates from here to the birth!