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