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 He tells us that the advances are happening so quickly that statistics are out-of-date by the time they are published.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