| Sunday, February 26, 2006 |
| A Rather Disjointed Update |
Tuesday afternoon before we left for Nashville, I finally found the rocker we wanted for Libby. On sale, 25 bucks. Fabulous. She loves it, we even took it with us.
Ben's appointment Wednesday went as well as could be expected. After reviewing the MRI films and a fresh set of X rays, and a fair amount of poking and prodding, the doctors at Vanderbilt pronounced his tumor benign. The cartilage cap thickness standard for malignancy is 2 cm, and Ben's was only about a millimeter. His pelvic films showed no other tumors, so we were in tall cotton, for about 30 seconds maybe.
As soon as the discussion of Ben was over, the senior Dr. brought up the issue of heredity and the possibility of Libby having this same condition. I have to call her pediatrician the first of the week for her to have a thorough physical exam, and she'll have to be monitored regularly, at least through her early childhood, when these most often occur. Didja hear that noise? That was the sound of our bubble bursting. I can't decide if I want to laugh because Ben is fine, or cry because Libby may not be. More on this later, when we've had time to process it all.
Thursday my mother and I took Libby grocery shopping, hitting sales at three different stores. The first store filled her with wide-eyed wonderment, the second left her slightly bored, and by the time we were in the checkout line at the third she was in full-on afternoon fuss. But our pantry is now well stocked, so fine by me.
After several days of being schlepped around in the carseat, Friday brought a whole day of play. Tummytime, chatter, feet nibbling, bouncy seat, swing, toy exploration, you name it, she did it. For hours. Nap free. You can guess where this is going. By late evening she was one great big ball of nerves, and collapsed in a heap at nine thirty, without so much as another peep until the next morning.
Saturdays are grandparent days, and Libby spends the afternoon with my parents so that they can have some one on one time with her, which lets us get some work done around the house (baby + vacuum = bad). She had a good evening, and finished out the day having a total of 32 ounces of milk for the day, not bad when you consider that a little over a week ago she was still in her hunger strike and might have had 24 ounces on a good day.
It's a funny little Libby-centric universe we live in here, and most of the time we don't even realize it, but she is our focus. We mark time by counting the hours since her last feeding and how many ounces, we remind each other of days by saying "Remember when Libby did X?" I suppose some of this is to be expected, since she is three months old, and our only one. Things will change eventually I'm sure, either with a new addition to our family, or with Libby becoming more independent, but until then, what a lovely calendar.
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posted by Tarah @ 3:11 PM  |
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