Preparing for Hope's Homecoming

You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm telling you why, Santa Claus is coming to town... he's making a list, he's checking it twice, he's gonna find out who's naughty and nice, Santa Claus is coming to town...

Since I have developed a reputation of getting jingles stuck in our readers' heads (note blog entries that have included the Jeffersons and Laverne and Shirley theme songs), here's an out of season Christmas tune for you (sung by one of my favorite artists, Bruce Springsteen).

For some reason the past three days have made me think of this little jingle, as I feel like we're gearing up for Christmas. In many ways each day has felt like opening up one of those little cardboard doors in an advent calendar and eagerly looking at what chocolate surprise would be waiting for you inside. Each day of preparation brought with it its very own sense of joy (and sometimes frustration).

Monday: Monday's "advent calendar chocolate" would be shaped like a garbage can. Our saga began with the hauling of the trash. For the past three springs I have done some volunteer work with a group called Friends of Milwaukee's Rivers and have lead students and adults on river clean up expeditions to beautify neighborhood parks. I have also helped institute this same idea as a service learning project for the fifth graders at my school. With this in mind, I've seen some mammoth piles of garbage and recyclables being hauled out of parks and river banks. However, the "mound o' muck" takes on a whole new meaning when it is your own stuff. What we left out to be taken down to "trashy town" was nothing short of a gargantuan heap. It made me feel bad to throw out so much damaged stuff, but at least we were able to separate the recyclables.

In the afternoon we also made a run to Baby's 'R Us and bought a TON of stuff, including nearly 900 diapers! Jeni and I played "Price Is Right Showcase Showdown" (be closest to the actual price without going over) to guess the bill and determine which one of us would have to go to the grocery store. Jeni underbid, but I overbid by $50, so I was off to the Pick 'N Save Monday afternoon.

Tuesday: Tuesday's "advent calendar chocolate" would have to be a butterfly (wrapped in shiny pink foil). Jeni put the finishing touches on the baby's room. While I have done my best to be the supportive husband, I quickly realized that decorating a nursery for two little girls put me way out of my element. Jeni, however, had a vision and was able to make everything look very special for the girls.


Hope's bed along with the book case and dresser. Note: Jeni labeled some of the drawers so that Dad can find items easily.







Gracie's crib set up.









Pretty butterflies hang down from the ceiling.






A closet filled with little girls clothes. Being an only child, I never had a sister growing up, so Jeni is helping me learn how to put together matching outfits for little girls.



Well, with Jeni working on the nursery, and us getting everything else set to go, that gave Dad a few hours off in the evening. Hmmmm. Anyone want to guess what I did? I went to the Brewers/Blue Jays game with my buddy Jon. The crew won 7-0 and it was a real home run fest (with shots by Fielder, Branyon, Council and two from Ryan Braun). During the game, Jon and I took a walk around the stadium and we found ourselves standing against the far fence underneath Bernie's slide behind left field. The cool summer breeze drifted in and I looked over the stadium, which was surprisingly crowded for a Tuesday night. Families scurried up and down the aisles with hot pretzels and nachos. Leaning back against the fence I took a deep breath and just felt a wonderful sense of peace and tranquility, like for once, everything would be ok.

Wednesday: Today's "advent calendar chocolate" would be a stork, as this afternoon Hope will be coming home. The house is in good shape. If we had a dollar for every person who has told us to "get ready to get no sleep" we would easily be able to buy another humongous heap of diapers! The reality is, like with preparing for Christmas, when the event actually arrives, all bets are off and things just happen. You learn to go with the flow. We have prepared as best we can for Hope's homecoming (and Grace's soon to follow). We've made our lists, checked them twice, and taught Dad how to coordinate a girl's outfit with onesie, pants, and even pink socks. For now, we just have to take a step back, a deep breath in, and enjoy the gift of the beautiful day that God has given to us.



Our home ready for its newest member to arrive on a beautiful sunny summer morning.

a walk in a NICU dad's Birkenstocks

I've had many people ask me throughout the past several months, "how do you do it?" referring to the major alterations having two children in the NICU (and before that a wife in the antepartum unit) can make on your schedule, psyche, and life in general. In honor of the many dads out there who have faced and/or are facing similar situations to Jeni and mine, I offer this post- a walk in a NICU dad's Birkenstocks. Being a dad during this whole process can be some hard and joyful work, but before we get to that, first, I must begin by commenting on my brown Birkenstock sandals. Just about anyone who I encounter during the months of May through October will notice that I wear by brown Birks just about every day when weather permits. My wife will not allow me to wear socks with them when it gets cold (there are few things that Jeni will put her foot down to, and socks and sandals is one of them). These sandals are somewhat beat up, but oh, so comfy, and it so many ways, oh, so reassuring. I got my first pair of brown Birks with the strap in the back when I was in high school. Now, three or four pairs later, here I am, as a 30 year old wearing, essentially the same footwear. Other shoes may be considered more fashionable these days, but I feel like my Birks and I have "been there, done that," and hence deserve mention. Even during uncomfortable times, I can count on them to keep my feet in a familiar state, and, metaphorically keep my balance.

Balance is the key to being a NICU parent. As hard as it can be, you can't let highs get too high or lows get too low. Each day since March 31st, I have made the trip to and from St. Joseph's Hospital at least once a day (and on many days two and sometimes even three times). The trip from our home to the hospital is approximately 10 miles long each way and takes between 20-30 minutes, depending on traffic on the city streets. Each day I take the same route, passing by a business called "Pest Supplies and Gifts" (hmmm, I have to go in there at some point, as I am curious to see what kinds of "gifts" can be found in a store that also advertises having roach and rodent killers). Each day I enter the parking structure and snake my way to the third floor. I park the car and walk into the hospital corridor. When it was cold outside, I was greeted with a large blast of warm air. These days, with their air conditioning cranked, an arctic chill gives me a shiver as I enter the hallway. I walk down the hallway with its purple and gray monotone carpeting past a knitted picture of St. Joseph and a a picture of a baby's head in a parent's hands. Then I pass the waiting room area and approach the NICU entrance. There I will find a beige 1980's vintage wall-mounted phone which I will pick up and be greeted with the same, familiar greeting, "St. Joseph's Family Care, NICU." I will introduce myself as Will Piper to see Hope and Grace, and will hear a mechanical "thunk" as the receptionist presses a button at her station that allows me to enter the ward.

I gulp and my heart rate always increases a tad at this point. I may know what to expect out of the sandals on my feet, but how the girls will be doing each day always remains somewhat of a mystery until I'm actually there. I walk down a wide hallway hearing the familiar "beep beeps" of the monitors. For most weeks until recently I made a left into the "sick baby" room where I would wash my hands and then proceed to stare yearningly into the isolettes of my daughters. These days I make a right into Hope and Grace's "suite." I still wash my hands throughly, and now am able to touch the girls more, pick them up, hold them, change them, and feed them. Still, there is no certainty as to what shape the girls will be in.

I've seen some pretty scary stuff. I almost fainted when Hope's foot early on was swollen and bruised badly due to the numerous pokes she had been receiving for the lab work that needed to be done on her. I saw the nervous look in Grace's eyes as the nurses asked us to leave as they prepped her area for her PDA surgery. I have seen my babies hooked up to a plethora of machines- intubation tubes, CPAP devices, the "flow driver," nasal cannulas, pulse socks and monitors. I have raced to the hospital after hearing that Hope had stopped breathing. I have asked a nurse, flat out, "is my daughter going to die." I have had a nurse draw the curtains around Hope's isolette as I broke down in tears balling, unable to finish reading "Goodnight Moon." With shoes on my feet, I've been there and done that.

I've seen some pretty beautiful stuff. I have cried tears of joy when I was first able to hold each of my girls. I have seen the girls more than double their weights from their birth up until now. I have seen Grace kick her little feet up and smile at her mom and dad. I have witnessed Hope's wide eyes stare at me. I have felt the tiny chests of my girls go up and down on top of my chest while we have "kangarooed." I have felt the tight squeeze of a tiny hand wrapped around my finger. I have laughed out loud trying (often unsuccessfully at that) to dress my daughters. I have felt the overwhelming sense of "WOW!" of feeding my girls a bottle. I have tried, unsuccessfully for the most part, to bait nurses into giving us further insight into when the girls will come home. With shoes on my feet, I've been there done that.

Over the past several months I've made over 100 trips to the NICU, traversed the drone purple and gray carpeting over 100 times, walked past the St. Joseph wall hanging over 100 times, wished that I would be holding Hope and Grace in my hand over 100 times when I pass that picture, and heard the metallic "thunk" of the NICU door opening over 100 times.

With all of this in mind, however, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow we get to go and spend a night with our daughter Hope as a "trial run" for her coming home. As I write this blog, Jeni is putting the finishing touches on the nursery and says it's 98.8% complete (pictures will be forthcoming). Grace had her best day of feeding yet- I am really getting the knack of bottle feeding her. With my first Father's Day coming to a close, I thank God for the blessing of my daughters, and my own dad and the love of so many friends and family. I also thank God for teaching me the value of looking at the big picture and learning to stay in balance, during good times and bad. Perhaps as a NICU dad I realize that Father's Day isn't really just about one day a year to celebrate, it's about the whole journey of raising kids and the countless memories you have with them throughout their lives as you watch them grow.

a rainbow after the storm

The weather in southeastern Wisconsin over the past week has mimicked our NICU stay. One minute it is sunny and beautiful with the crisp breeze off of Lake Michigan making the smell of petunias and fresh cut grass waft into our living room. The next minute, the sky turns gray and storm clouds roll overhead like stampeding rhinos on the Serengeti Plain, bringing with them fierce lightening, loud claps of thunder, and buckets of rain.

My first week of summer break involved non-stop cleaning and organizing of the house in preparation of our daughters' homecoming. Jeni and I are working feverishly to get things ready, as we have been told by our doctor and Nurse Barb, our primary nurse, that Tuesday is the day Hope is likely to come home. Granted, this is not the Father's Day homecoming that we were hoping for a week ago, but I am proud to say that I will, more likely than not, have the chance to watch a Brewers/Blue Jays game with Hope in my arms. I'm sure our friends Susan, Gord, Aaron and Emily in Canada will smile knowing that the first time the "Brewers Fan Dad" enjoys a game with his daughter will be against their American League rivals from north of the border.

On a more serious note, life in the "intermediate room" recently has not been without its share of bumps in the road. Yesterday things were not so fun. Hope had trouble, alarming frequently and dropping her heart rate. While feeding her yesterday, she began to choke and turned blue. Nurse Mary was able to revive her quickly, but this still scared the living daylights out of me, and made me, for the first time, start feeling a bit nervous about the prospect of caring for a premature baby (and hopefully babies plural before too long). Moreover, our doctor yesterday ordered renal ultrasounds for both girls because of a concern over high blood pressure and kidney functioning. Kidneys? What!? ! This was the first time Jeni and I heard anything about this. Thank goodness by the end of the day yesterday, we learned that the results of the renal untrasounds were "unremarkable" indicating that there were no foreseen problems with the girls' kidneys, and that the blood pressure just needed to be watched carefully over the next several days. Both girls, for what it's worth, had lower blood pressure today.

Just like the severe weather that ravaged southeastern Wisconsin recently, these bursts of unpleasantness were relatively short lived, but intense nonetheless. Despite turning blue briefly yesterday, Hope is still on track for a Tuesday discharge. Gracie has increased her feedings, and, with a little love and luck, will not be too far behind her sister. She just needs to gain weight consistently and move up on her feedings. She is already up to nippling 5/8 feedings, so I don't think she should be more than a week to ten days behind her sister.

Until then, Mom and Dad will spend the remainder of hopefully their last Saturday night together as a two-some living in our house attempting to put together Rainforest Bouncey Seats and decorating the babies' room in preparation of brining our family home.

To close, when Jeni came home from the hospital tonight (driving through another series of thunderstorms that rampaged through our area) she called me outside to show me the magnificent rainbow that arched over our backyard. For us, this served as a visual illustration that after a storm sometimes God can bless us with a thing of great beauty. Hopefully, this metaphor will live out in our lives during the upcoming week.


A beautiful rainbow viewed from the Piper patio.







Jeni lathers up Baby Grace during her bath.





Baby Hope is now on "on demand feedings" (gosh, that sounds like a Time Warner Cable commercial). We learned from our most recent call to the NICU that she took 50 ccs at her last feeding! "Big Beefy" is getting ready to come home!

2 Months old- Look How We've Grown

Yesterday Hope and Grace turned two months old in the NICU. It is amazing how much these girls have grown in such a short amount of time. While the past 63 days have seemed like an eternity for Mom and Dad, when thinking globally, it is such a short amount of time.


Grace's first photo, being weighed at 2 pounds even moments after her birth on 4/11/08.






4 pound 1 ounce Grace on 6/11/08. She is looking mighty cute if I do say so myself, and her face is now way bigger than her "nook."








Two moths old and Gracie is still as feisty as can be!









Hope in her isolette hooked up to her ET tube at 2 pounds 5 ounces on 4/11/08






Hope rang in her two month birthday on 6/11/08 with literally nothing aside from her monitor attached to her. She is breathing wonderfully all by herself. She weighs in at 4 pounds 10 ounces and is now nippling 5 our of her 8 feedings.





Today I got to bottle feed both girls and they both did fabulously, nippling both of their feedings. This put a smile on Dad's face bigger than the Brewers taking 2/3 against the Astros. FYI, all of the nurses (and most doctors) know me in the NICU as the "Brewers Fan Dad." If you click on the pic, you can see Hope suckling her empty bottle. She really seems to enjoy her feedings.










For some reason, writing this post and thinking about the amazing progress our girls have made thus far got the Laverne and Shirley theme song stuck in my head (ok, Jeni and I are suckers for old '80's sitcoms). Enjoy- for some reason this opening makes me think of the countless blessings that are to come with twin daughters.

Delusions of Grandeur

Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows how much I love baseball. Every now and again, a top prospect comes along who a fan gets really excited to see in the big leagues. For many of us in Brewer Nation, that prospect was Ryan Braun who debuted in May of 2007 and later went on to become the NL Rookie of the Year. I remember reading several articles last year about why Braun wasn't on the team earlier than he was. The reality to that statement was simple- it wasn't his time. Braun wasn't ready in April- he was ready in late May. I have been told by my wife (among others) not to ramble about baseball too much on this blog, but allow me to digress as it helps me put a situation into perspective.

This past weekend, amidst the flooded basement and the storms and the Shop Vacs and ripping out the spongey carpet was this little idea that Hope would be home in time for Father's Day. Laurie, our loyal reader from Cleveland, made that prediction recently as well, and to say that having Hope home wasn't in the forefront of Jeni and my mind would be a bold-faced lie. Worst of all, as I often times do, I concocted a delusion of grandeur in my mind of how wonderful her Father's Day homecoming would be. Here's how it would play out... Dad would dress Hope in her Brewers clothing (even though it would be way too big) and would sit on the couch wearing his retro jersey and amid the cluttered chaos of stuff that is now piled all over due to the flood, we'd snuggle together and watch the Brewers take on, who else but the Minnesota Twins. And the Brewers would have an awesome game that would include a Ryan Braun home run and Brian Shouse (my favorite player on the team) would come in and get a crucial out and Soloman Torres would pick up a save and the crowd would go wild and Hope would look at her daddy with her wide eyes and not get annoyed (like a certain someone who's name begins with a J and ends in an I sometimes does when Dad provides play-by-play commentary during the game) and throw in some brats with Secret Stadium Sauce and the day would be just perfect, right?

After hearing Nurse Rosie and later our doctor say that Hope was not ready to come home this weekend gave a sense of heartache, relief, and reality all at the same time. We all root for Hope (and Grace), and we all want them to come home and make our dreams of being a completed family come true. The truth of the matter is as simple as thinking about the debate about when Ryan Braun should have come up from the minor leagues last year- top prospects enter the big leagues when it's their time. Hope, and Grace, WILL come home- just not in time for Father's Day, and while that can be frustrating to us as parents, it is important for us to have perspective and realize that these girls are doing well and are in the right direction. As I have learned so well from this whole experience of having kids in the NICU, the best conceived plans don't always come to fruition at the time you wish that they would. The day will come soon enough when Hope and Grace and I will take in a Brewers game on our couch (and before we know it they will be with their dad cheering on the Brewers from loge level seats at Miller Park).

Watching Grace and Hope do wonderfully with their feedings this evening and noticing their chubbier cheeks, chins, fingers, and toes made me realize that their time to come home will be sooner rather than later. We just have to be patient in the process.

If I have learned anything from being an avid baseball fan for the vast majority of my life, it's this- top prospects need time to develop. Applying this same ideology to Hope and Grace helps put things in perspective. Mother's Day, like Father's Day, will need to be celebrated to it's full extent with our own holiday- "Family Day-" the day our whole family comes home.



What is Hope thinking? Get camera-happy Mom and Dad away from me or I love having my wide eyes captured to share with the world? Hmmm... for some reason I am thinking she enjoys the latter.






What is Gracie dreaming of? Brewers victories? Her "nook?" Coming home to see Mom and Dad? Ponies? Her wonderful NICU nurses? Her cares? The glory of not being hooked up to the ventilator, CPAP, or nasal cannula? Her next feeding? Having her dad change her stinky diaper next time he comes to visit? Who knows?

Winding Down the School Year

The end of the school year is a chaotic event, filled with a certain degree of pomp and bombast, and lots of bins overflowing with papers. As the days begin to wind down, a teacher can sense that kids are "checked out" and ready to begin their summer vacation. There is a certain excitement in the air- an enthusiasm to go and do something else, to have a different routine, to take a break, and most importantly to grow. The kids and teachers know that the end is in sight.

Likewise, we are now feeling that the end is in sight for Hope and Grace. On Thursday when we arrived at our "suite" in the intermediate area of the NICU, we noticed Hope and Grace's graduation diplomas tacked up to their bulletin boards. The end seems more in reach.

As of this morning, Gracie and Hope are both in open cribs. Gracie is 3 pounds 15 oz (so close to a 4 pounder). Hope is 4 pounds 4 ounces. Wow! Both girls are working on nipple feeds. Hope is really a champion when it comes to this. Gracie is learning at a little slower rate than her sister, but is getting the job done.

Life in the "intermediate care room" in the NICU is different. Both girls share a suite with windows. The nurses are available, but don't do as much as in the "sick baby room" across the hall. We are getting to know a new group of nurses, but missing the old familiar encouraging faces from Hope and Grace's previous residence. We are also doing some new stuff with the girls- Hope got her first bath on Thursday. Gracie is due for one on Sunday. We are now clothing the girls too.

Just like our students who must navigate through a sea of papers pouring out of their lockers as they wrap up the school year, we too have a mountain of forms that we are beginning to fill out in anticipation of the girls' discharge. We have a checklist at the girls' cribs of things to do before the babies go home and had a conversation with the nurse last evening about car seats. I've always said that things change in a hurry in the NICU! Enjoy some pics of the girls as they continue to grow into the intermediate stage of their NICU stay!





Hope is animated for Daddy to do her diaper cares. FYI, she left her dad a big surprise (no photo needed for that one).









Gracie naps peacefully by her window. This hopefully will be the last isolette photo of Gracie.









"Who is that guy with the big grin and the camera?" Hope wonders as she looks up at Daddy.


Hope's nurse gives her a bath!

A Preview of What's to Come?

Everyone says that a baby is a ton of work, much less two babies. I have to be quite honest, while in my head I know that this fact is true, I am not sure that I really believed it. After all, babies are cute, they sleep most of the time, and you get to do fun things like push them around in their stroller waiting for adoring strangers to come and gush over them.

Well, babies are cute, they seem to sleep a lot, and for now, the nurses at St. Joe's are gushing... but they are a lot of work. And, I don't even really know the reality of this yet. Tonight gave me just a small taste for what is coming down the road, much sooner than we think.

A timeline of tonight's events:
5:15 Arrive at the hospital. Adore the girls for a bit and admire Hope in her new open crib. After about 5 minutes, Grace is screaming about something. Where's the nurse? What does she want? Give Grace her pacifier only to find that the pacifier is not at all what she wants. Where's the nurse? I finally decided that she may need to be changed (or was hungry, but I can't really get that going without the nurse's ok). Her diaper contained what appeared to be her weight gain from the last two days full of pee. The doctors decided to give her a diuretic today and I can attest to it's success. No big deal here though. Hope was wide awake to greet me and show me her blue hands, sending me into a small panic. All was well, as the rest of her is the right temperature, thank goodness. The open crib presents Hope with the challenge of keeping herself warm enough to function and thus far, save her hands, she appears to be doing well.

5:35 The nurse arrives to check on me and the girls. She gives the go ahead to feed Gracie. It takes me about ten minutes to set up, remove Grace from her isolette, etc. Will arrives and greets us, changes Hope, and gets her out for a little Daddy time.

5:45 - 6:00 Feed Grace.

6:00 - 6:15 Burp and cuddle Grace before passing her off to Daddy.

6:15 - 6:45 Try to wake the previously chipper, hungry-looking Hope. I enticed her with food, patted her gently on the back, tickled her under the chin, but nothing. She had absolutely no interest in being alert enough to feed. But I wasn't about to give up that easily, nor was the nurse. After all, these girls have to learn that they have to do a little bit of work in order to get their tummies full. The nurse came over to help. Together we stripped Hope down, thinking that she was too cozy and warm in her sleeping bag. Nope. Nothing. I enticed her with food again. Nada. I convinced the nurse to let me try for five more minutes and I finally annoyed her to the point of awakening her.

6:45 - 7:15 Feed Hope. Now all of the books say that when you're breastfeeding, the child will eat what she wants and stop when finished. Ok, I believe these experts writing the books and let Hope go as long as she wants. Nurse Ashley comes in periodically to check, pleased as punch that Hope was still at it. After about 30 minutes, twice as long as Hope usually eats, she decided that she was finally full and quits. After I take her off, she acts like she's still starving, but I used my better judgment and tried to give her a burp rather than allow her any more food. Will had already left to make dinner and it was well past the time that I was supposed to leave for the nurses to make their report. As Will left, he muttered that I was going to be the one to have to change her nasty post-feeding diaper tonight.

7:15 - 7:45 Change Hope's diaper, clothes, bedding. As I held Hope for a few minutes she emitted some sounds that would make my fifth grade boys proud. Then I felt poop #1 make it's entrance into Hope's diaper. I found myself making a lucky move putting a cloth diaper under her tush just after that little present came. A few moments later, poop #2. I decided that it was time to put now-stinky Hope back into her bassinet and change her. By that time, Hope's poops had come out of the top of her diaper, which rides up almost to her neck, through her onesie, and onto the cloth diaper. Upon changing her diaper and outfit, the poop got everywhere else, including my hands, her cords, her feeding tube (eww!) and her hair. Then, while getting new clothes and diaper, Hope's feast of a dinner made a second appearance. Luckily this time, she was only wearing a diaper, but it did manage to get all over her teeny body, bedding, and of course, my hands. With Ashley's assistance, I got Hope all cleaned up, into a new outfit, back into her sleep sac, and bundled up. Meanwhile, Hope looked thoroughly entertained by the whole scene, while making some "I ate too much" groans. I checked on Grace, only to find that she too, had spit up all over herself and her blanket. Recognizing my bewildered look, Ashley offered to take care of Grace so that I could get home for my late dinner.

All together, feeding and changing both girls took the two of us two hours and fifteen minutes. Given that their feedings are just three hours apart, I realized that this does not leave much time for anything else. Oh boy, babies are a lot of work!