We've had these two boys for about 90 days now, and they do not make a narcotic lollipop strong enough to help us cope with the changes we need to adapt to.
Let me take a few steps back...
John Patrick O'Connor was born Wednesday July 16th at 245 in the afternoon. We call him Jack. Either one of these boy's names would look pretty good on a campaign sign in your front yard, but God willing, they'll both stay as far away from that nonsense as possible. Jack was born with a condition called TGA which stands for Transposition of the Great arteries. Essentially, his aorta and pulmonary arteries were connected on the wrong sides of his heart, and therefore, he could not circulate oxygenated blood throughout his body. He was also born with a cleft lip and palate because a congenital heart defect just wasn't exciting enough for his mother and me.
Maybe an hour after he was born. I stopped crying long enough to hear the doctor explain to us that they were going to have to perform an emergency procedure to open the upper chambers of his heart.
Jackie, before we had even had a chance to introduce ourselves, we had to sign papers giving the doctor's permission to tear a hole in your heart.... so I'm going to have a real hard time accepting you being afraid of anything. Sorry, boy.
He then spent about a week in the NICU, where some amazing nurses and doctors kept an eye on him 24 hours a day, making sure his breathing was regular and easy and that he was passing fluids as he got ready for heart surgery. During this time everyone pitched in to help take care of Thomas while Karen and I stayed at the Ronald McDonald House. About a week after he was born, Jack was deemed fit enough to have his arterial switch procedure done. We got to the hospital at 5 in the morning and the nurses got his tubes and wires out of the wall so we could finally hold him. An hour later, we walked him over to the Pediatric Surgical Heart Unit where they fixed his heart. Dr. Michel Ilbawi is world renowned Pediatric Heart Surgeon and he saved my son's life. Jackie got dealt a weird hand to start the game, but being in this area, so close to this group of doctors feels more than just coincidental to me.
Our hospital experience as a whole was pretty incredible. From the people who work and volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House, to all of the nurses (delivery, NICU, PSHU) we had first rate care all the way through. You know when you go to a gas station and you go inside to pay and you're like 5 feet behind someone as they walk through the door and that person never holds the door for you? In fact, sometimes it seems like they let it slam on you on purpose? None of those people worked at our hospital
So that's the hospital story. All the goodwill we earned and saved was spent at the hospital because the minute we came home Thomas declared there was hell to pay. Not by Jackie, but by Mommy and Daddy. He missed us so much that he has created some sort of ledger of repayment in his mind, of which I fear we have not even begun to scratch the surface of the principal. He could not be sweeter to Jack. He showers him with kisses and understands (mostly) that he's too young and too fragile for hugs, which is a good thing, because if you haven't had the pleasure of a Tommy hug, head down to your local asylum and ask for the house straight-jacket and you'll get the idea.
Sleep is something I remember like I remember snowball fights. I think I used to have them, and I'm sure they were fun, but let's be honest, I'm probably never going to get to have a nice long snowball fight ever again. My current schedule is something like this...
Wake up at 6, do everything humanly possible to get out the door by 715, actually leave at 737, drive 70 miles per hour to work, sit at work and wish I was home, drive 70 miles per hour to get home, walk in the door, usually someone is screaming, it's my turn for diapers, Daddy when can we go on a bikeride? Why didn't you buy bread? I told you to buy bread, you do speak English, right? Daddy watch me jump over this stick! more poop, what's for dinner, cereal again, awesome, Daddy I'M A GORILLA, get bit on the thigh, it's bath time, stop splashing water, stop peeing in the water, stop drinking the pee water, that's it, bath time's over. Put your pajamas on, you sure you want to wear fleece pajamas in August? Read 3 books about Mickey Mouse, tell me a story about Uncle Michael when he was a baby. Daddy snuggle me (that part's pretty great). stay in your room, HEY, stay in your room, Please God and and everything that is Holy, stay in your room, sit down on couch at 847, what do you think you're doing? look at these dirty dishes mister, get back up, do the dishes, watch SportsCenter highlights, get Jack ready for midnight feeding, wake up disoriented as feeding machine alarm goes off, put Jackie in bed, grab Fentanyl lollipop, collapse.
My point is, what the hell? Karen had 4 kids in her house. Everyone on both sides of my family has multiple kids. Did this happen to all of you? This is ridiculous.
We could not be more happy to have our boys home with us. Karen tells me Thomas is a perfect child until I walk in the door (not sure how to interpret that) but bedtime is still my favorite part of the day and not just because we cut the enemy force in half if only for a few hours. Bedtime is when Thomas turns the sweet dial up to 11 and it's why bedtime now takes an hour plus. It's becoming increasingly clear who's really in charge over here. Jack is smiling now, and his smile is so perfect we talk about not getting it fixed. But don't worry, Jackie. We will.
