2003 Journal Links

I know I don't update my journal as frequently as I once did. Archie keeps me so busy that time to pursue my own endeavors, like, say, taking a shower or walking the dogs, is fleeting at best. I love it this way, though.

Two weeks ago Archie's pediatrician, Dr. Jacques, took him off 24-calorie formula. She was pleased with his weight gain and felt Archie was ready for the change. The new, typical-baby, lower-calorie formula has made such a difference. Not only does Archie eat more readily now, but his issues with constipation have also alleviated.

Archie has also been eating baby food from a spoon three times a day. He loves the different textures and tastes of the concoctions we create. Chicken and rice with bananas is his favorite. I am always so pleased with my son when he finishes a whole bowl of food.

My son is also making progress with his physical development. He rolls, and rolls, and rolls some more. He rolls toward the dogs and torments then by burying his sweaty hands in their fur. He rolls toward his grandfather who lies down on the floor with him. He rolls toward his Step & Play Piano and stares at the keyboard over his head, pushing up on his arms as he tries to figure out how to pull himself up and play with the toy. "There's got to be a way," I imagine him thinking.

When he's not trying to figure out how to pull himself up, he's working on mastering the basics of crawling. An inchworm of a baby, Archie travels across the floor by pushing up on his feet and head, his behind high in the air, Archie slowly, carefully maneuvers around his tiny universe. Other times Archie balances on his chest and tummy, his arms and legs outstretched, his head held high, as if he's Superman and able to fly forward.

While he can't quite sit yet, Archie can stand. He's able to pull himself to a standing position if you offer him the support of your index fingers. John enjoys holding Archie's fists as he stands on the floor and I sing, "Put one foot in front of the other! And soon you'll be walking out the door-or-or!"

And Archie loves to chatter and laugh. He makes a variety of sounds and every now and then those random sounds pair to form a familiar word or sentence. Last week Archie was kicking his feet against the floorboard in his bedroom as I cleaned a closet in another room. He laughed and spoke, and laughed and spoke. "La, la, la, ahhaaaa…" Archie babbled. "Aaahhaa, ya, ya, la, ma, yah… I'm not lyin'!" I stopped shuffling things around and laughed aloud.

"You're not lyin'?" I called to him across the hall. "Archie, are you telling the truth?"

"Aaahhaayyahh…" he said in response.

As you look at Archie's photos from his christening you'll notice that something's missing. We visited Dr. Horne, Archie's cardiologist, Friday morning. John and I watched as Carla echoed Archie's heart. We tried to read the black and white image and corresponding numbers, frightening ourselves with our ignorance.

"You're measuring the pulmonary hypertension now," John stated more than he asked.

"I am," Carla confirmed.

The room was quiet. I held my breath as I watched Carla measure the length of the waves on the screen. "My god," I thought as I felt my heart beat in my throat. "Those waves look really long."

Carla walked across the room and looked at Archie's chart. She came back and tried a different angle. "Did they change his medicine last time?" Carla asked.

"Umm... No. Well, he discontinued his Captopril," I answered, my heart beating harder. "He's not on any medicine anymore."

One beat. One beat more. "Shit," I was thinking. "Oh, shit."

"His numbers are better," Carla announced. "I mean, they're normal. That's why I wanted to check what they were before, and then look again from this angle."

Dr. Horne told us that Archie's echocardiogram revealed that the leaky valves Archie had following surgery are now "normal, or surprisingly close to normal." Since the pulmonary hypertension appears to be gone we were permitted to discontinue the use of oxygen. We do have to go back Tuesday morning, though, to see if four days off supplemental oxygen adversely affects Archie's hypertension.

"If I didn't have this nose full I'd pick you up and give you a kiss," Dr. Horne told Archie.

"I never thought we'd get here," he told John and me.

Saturday, Archie's christening day, marked the six-month anniversary of Archie's surgery. A year ago this week we saw Archie's defective heart for the first time on a big television screen in a doctor's office. Four days later we found out that he has Down syndrome. We imagined then, lying awake at night with tears in our eyes, what lay before us. But we didn't really know. No one ever really knows.