Day 28: Oliver the Giant!

This is the time of year when the regular conversations of intelligent individuals (at least in our circle) turns to such pressing topics as:

- Wonder who is going to start the first game of the post-season for the Yankees?
- Do the Tar Heels play any games north of the Mason-Dixon line this year? When do tickets go on sale?

This year, water cooler talk in Room 836 at NYU Medical Center has centered around the prolific and heroic weight gain of one Oliver Gibson Speight. The dashing young man continues to grow at an impressive clip by gorging himself on pizza, chocolate, peanut-butter-and-jelly-on-whole-wheat, smoked almonds, fresh fruit, boiled eggs and bran muffins. By my estimates he weighs almost ten pounds and can already dunk a basketball in a nine-foot goal. The opinion of the so-called "medical professionals" is a bit more conservative, coming in at around 3 pounds.

Today marks four weeks in the hospital for Michele and Monday is the magic day when Oliver reaches 30 weeks gestational age. (If you are in the tri-state area on Monday, look for fireworks over the East River!) Both the advice of our doctors and the medical studies we find online offer encouragement that, should he be born now, Oliver will not only survive but thrive with very little risk of long-term disability. Of course, we would move mountains just to increase his odds even a single percent...

Our intensifying obsession with Oliver's weight can be traced in part to me finally worked up the nerve yesterday to visit the NICU (Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit). The day we were admitted I was invited to come up anytime for an introduction and tour, but you can imagine that was quite a daunting prospect -- I didn't need to see babies on life-supporting devices to remind me that our situation was precarious at best. Despite his truly impressive growth, he would still be the smallest baby currently under NICU care.

I have been staring at my computer screen for ten minutes trying to find words to properly describe the NICU experience. Suffice to say, though I tend to do my crying in private, I could not hold back the tears as this nurse (no more than ninety pounds but with the forceful presence of a linebacker) described what the first few weeks of NICU life would be like for little Oliver. "We're not here to make friends, we're here to save your baby's life," she said. I don't know where she grew up, but where I'm from we'd call that a friend for life.

As we are reminded every day, we are in debt to you all for the kindness and support you have shown us. We look forward to paying you back in ways big and small for the rest of our lives. At the very least, you all should plan to be in Brooklyn next year for Oliver's first birthday party. It will be the wildest, happiest and most over-the-top barbecue that Brooklyn has seen since in years. We don't know the exact date yet, but we're starting to suspect (hope?) that it might double as a Halloween party...

With all our love and heartfelt gratitude,

Michele, Charlie and Oliver

Day 19: 28 and a half weeks...

It is hard to believe that an entire week has passed since our last update email. For those of you keeping score at home, here's what you might have missed:

Friday, 9/15: Michele finishes her second week in the hospital
Monday, 9/18: Oliver reaches 28 weeks gestational age (Aimee and Khuni bring carrot cake!)
Monday, 9/18: Michele gets a full sonogram (looks great) and Oliver weighs in at ~ 2 pounds, 9 ounces!
Tuesday, 9/19: Michele is allowed to sit up in bed for the first time
Tuesday, 9/19: Charlie gives Michele another pedicure (this time: purple)
Wednesday, 9/20: "Test results show that it's not a blood clot... you're just imagining things!"

Oliver continues to cut an impressive figure. His heart is strong, he's growing on schedule and he's moving around like the frisky little explorer we know he is going to be. His mother is the rock from which both he and I draw our strength. She remains peaceful and poised in the face of the greatest test of her life -- how can I be anything but optimistic? Confinement to a hospital bed must good for her beauty rest; she's even more beautiful today than I have ever remembered her.

One of our main OBs (a gentle young doctor from Mississippi, Michele says: "looks like you but a little bit pudgier", I say: "Pudgier?!?!") tells us that at 28 weeks he's seeing 95% of babies survive with less than 5% suffering from severe long-term disabilities (blindness, lung deformities, cerebral palsy, etc.). He tells us that the advances are happening so quickly that statistics are out-of-date by the time they are published. After 30 weeks, virtually all babies born into their care end up 'normal' after their stint in the Neonatal ICU.

As we set our sights on 30 weeks, we will continue with more of the same: spending time together as a family, dreaming about our wonderful future, drawing on the positive energy radiating from all of you. If I'm watching the Yankees in the post-season from my pink vinyl recliner in room 833 at NYU Medical Center, it surely will be the best playoff seat I've ever had!

Tonight (just before putting in my earplugs and adjusting my satin eye mask for bed), I will whisper a few words of encouragement to little Oliver. Keep it up little fella, keep it up. Don't change a thing! This world can wait. We would be forever grateful if you would do the same.

Yours in hope and love,

Oliver, Michele and Charlie

Day 12: Good new - more of the same!

We continue to be overwhelmed by the support you have all given us over these last two weeks. It is such a powerful feeling to find encouragement everywhere you turn... to know that the family you were given and the friends you have chosen are cut from such kind and benevolent stock. Your love has helped challenged us to dig deep and find the strong and positive energy we need to continue providing Oliver with a healthy and stable womb.

The news from the hospital continues to be excellent. Michele is healthy and Oliver's vital signs are very encouraging. The doctors are quite optimistic and they are beginning to treat her like a long-term visitor. She's signing up for in-bed physical therapy and is being exposed to other services the hospital offers for patients that are in for the long haul. The only "setback" we have experienced this week is a very itchy (but non-contagious) condition the doctors are calling the "rash of pregnancy." Judging from the amount of kicking and squirming he has been doing, Oliver thinks its funny.

True story: for several months prior to our admission to the hospital, I would whisper to Oliver (or, more specifically, to Michele's belly) that he needed to "hurry up and get born" or else I was going to go crazy. On several occasions I told him that if he didn't hurry up I was going to "squeeze him out." (Michele did not find this very funny.) I'm not a very superstitious person, but it is difficult not to cringe a little when I think about those silly comments. For goodness sake, boy, I was KIDDING! Not taking any chances, I've decided that from now on I will spell things out for Oliver in no uncertain terms: you're grounded for one week for every day you are born premature!

More milestones are ahead... Oliver celebrates his second week in the hospital on Friday and on Monday he will reach 28 weeks gestational age. The advances in medical care are staggering: for babies born at 28-31 weeks gestational age, the fatality rate has been halved in the last 20 years. As he continues to grow, his odds improve dramatically. In just the time he has been there, his prospects for survival have doubled. At 28 weeks, the survival rates for pre-term infants exceeds 90%!

Our love for Oliver and our faith in ourselves has grown just as dramatically in the past few weeks. Thank you for being part of this process and for giving us your shoulders to lean on. Your thoughts and prayers and jokes and hugs have been our fuel. Come on little Oliver, let's do this!

Love,

Charlie, Michele and Oliver

Day 10: Update on Michele and Oliver

Today is a very big day for us as little Oliver celebrates passing his 27th week in the snug confirms of Michele's belly. It has been ten days since Michele was admitted to the hospital and her vital signs (and Oliver's) have not looked better. Witnessing Michele's courage and strength in holding out this long has been the greatest miracle of my life. At this point, our belief in Oliver's safe passage is stronger than ever and we consider each day he remains in the womb a bonus.

It may seem odd given the circumstances, but the overwhelming feeling we have right now is one of good fortune... of being blessed. Watching the 9/11 ceremony reinforces that feeling. We are not mourning loss; we know in our core that we are celebrating the power of life and love. We cherish this handsome little Oliver despite never laying eyes on him or holding him in our arms; he means so much because he is the embodiment of our love for each other and our lifetime commitment to one another. In this way, he is immortal.

Michele is eating "regular food" for every meal (we even found a new meal between breakfast and brunch) and, as of today, the only device connected to her is a fetal monitor that tracks Oliver's heart beat and Michele's contractions (weak, few and far between). She continues to be confined to the hospital bed, lacking only a silver bell to ring when she needs me to refill her water glass or bring her a fresh plum or massage her feet! Actually, for those who know her well, you can imagine how infuriating it is for her to have her independence so thoroughly limited. Nevertheless, we are having a grand time watching the Yankees open up a comfortable lead over the Red Sox, reading up on celebrity gossip and finishing the second season of Veronica Mars on DVD. (Michele would want me to point out that she is ALSO reading War and Peace... smarty pants.)

Thank you again, all of you, for the support you have shown us during these challenging times. Every little gesture has touched our hearts.

Charlie, Michele and Oliver

Day 5: Another Update

THANK YOU!

So many of you sent me wonderful notes with encouraging thoughts and positive stories about how family or friends made it through similar situations. My focus has been almost entirely on Michele right now so I do not have time to respond to each message, but they have been read (more than once) and have brought strength, optimism and happiness to my family at this time of need. It is a reminder that life is a very delicate web, and each relationship is a strand. We rely on one another in ways big and small to turn burdens into fulfillment.

Your thoughts and prayers are working, too! Michele is doing great and baby Oliver is growing stronger every day, in the womb, where he is supposed to be. We've made it five days since her water broke and we are growing confident that this is a bonafide streak. All the signs are pointing in the right direction. Our day are filled with laughter and tears in equal measure, but both are starting to be trumped by sheer mind-numbing boredom... the best feeling of all. As Michele has taken to saying, "boring is the new exciting!"

I will be working more and more over the next few days, so don't hesitate to email or call... if the status quo continues, I expect to be in the office at least part-time starting next week. I will send out updates from time to time. Don't feel compelled to respond, just continue doing whatever you are doing because it sure is helping!

In gratitude,

Charlie, Michele and Oliver

Day 2: Update

As some of you know, I rushed Michele to the hospital yesterday after it was determined that her water broke and she was at risk of going into premature labor. As of today, bad ass little Oliver is two days shy of 26 weeks gestational age. Survival is very possible, but with high risk of complication... we are taking it hour by hour.

Michele is undergoing steroid treatment (to strenthen Oliver's lungs) and is being treated with magnesium to hold off her contractions until the steroids can have the desired effect. After that, nature will be allowed to take its course and Michele will stay in the hospital until delivery. This could be anywhere from a few days to (we hope) several weeks or even months.

Michele is holding up well and responding to treatment. Oliver looks good and healthy and is actually bigger (1000g or 2lbs/3oz) than his gestational age would suggest. His heart is strong and his neurological activity is encouraging. Every day in the womb, every gram of additional weight and every positive thought will make a difference. Send your good karmic vibes to tough-as-nails Oliver and his beautiful, heroic mother Michele.

Sunday night and Monday will be a critical period as the steroid and magnesium treatment is wrapped up. We will be watching closely for any sign of infection or a return of the contractions. I am optimistic that we are merely settling in for a long and successful stay in the hospital.

Thanks for being a great bunch of co-workers and such great friends. Let's hope I'm handing out cigars in a couple months.