Adventures in Chicagoland

Last Saturday (August 9^th), I flew to Chicago for a work-related conference. The conference was very good, and I gained a lot of insight that will help me with my job. But the true adventures started when the conference let out. Just about every night afforded a little adventure.

Saturday

On the flight over, without notice I got switched from one seat to another. This didn't bother me in the slightest. When I got on the plane, I learned that it was a significant advantage. The row I was moved to was the division between First Class and Coach. On a small CRJ (CanadaAir Regional Jet), that difference is minimal, but where it divides there is a sort of “bulkhead” seating, even though there’s not bulkhead. What that meant for me was that even with my legs fully extended, I couldn't touch the seat in front of me. How’s that for unusual?

I arrived on a flight with a number of colleagues from UTA who were going to the same conference. All but one of us were booked in the same hotel, so we said goodbye to Bob, whose hotel was several miles away, and headed to downtown. We took the Chicago CTA “EL” train in, and the only bit of strangeness was that a particular section was under construction, so we had a little scheduled bus bridge section. That extended our trip time, but wasn't really a big deal.

After checking into the hotel, the four of us met up for dinner. We wandered around the downtown area a little bit, all starving, looking for a place that had a wait of less than an hour. We never found one. But eventually we settled for a high-brow place called Eataly that had mediocre food and high prices. What can you do? After that I went back to the hotel and settled in.

Sunday

Unfortunately, Sunday was a working day for the conference. It was mostly a very long (12 hour) tour of the Chicago-area transit system. It was very interesting, especially for a transit nerd like myself.  Part of the tour included a segment which put us over the border into Kenosha, Wisconsin, so I got an extra State out of the deal! I’ve never been to Wisconsin, before, so that was fun. Also, along the way, I got my first glimpses of Lake Michigan (my first Great Lake), and in Wisconsin I stood right at the water’s edge, though I couldn't actually touch the water.

One item of note, which will probably drive Ilene nuts, or maybe just make her ashamed, is that because of work I couldn't attend church. However, along the way, we had to find places to eat, and both for lunch and for dinner, the only places which were convenient were bars. Chicago restaurants weren't open early enough for lunch, and the small town in Wisconsin only had a couple of options for dinner. So, on Sunday, I skipped church and went to two bars.

Monday

By Monday night, I was ready to get out and do something. The Navy Pier was only a few blocks from my hotel, so I thought I’d take a walk down there. I actually left rather late, after 10:00, so by the time I got there it was entirely closed. That’s not much of an interesting adventure. But what happened along the way, and then after, was much more entertaining.

A couple of blocks into my walk, I came across a black man in a green shirt pushing a bike. He was non-threatening, even in the middle of the night, so when he tried to engage me in conversation, I didn't think much of it. He asked me what I was doing, and I responded that I was out for a walk. He pushed the conversation, stating that I was probably looking for bars. Rather than engage with him, I tried to just let him think that.

Well, that wasn’t good enough. Phil insisted, leading me by the arm, on showing me where the good bars were. I thought I’d let him do that and let it go. Along the way he serenaded me with a song or two from Hall & Oats, and he started to give me the lowdown on (in less vulgar terminology than he used) where the women were the most promiscuous. With that I decided to be firm and end the tour. I thanked him and tried to leave, but he blocked me, telling me how he was homeless and needed help and hustling me with how he had provided me a service. I gave him a couple of bucks, and walked away.

After I got away from him, I made my way down to the pier, which was closed; the pier itself doesn't close, per se, but everything on it was, and all the lights were off, making it not particularly inviting. So I turned around and went back to Michigan Avenue, where my hotel was. But, when I got there, I wasn't tired, and I didn't want to sit bored in my room. So I turned and headed up Michigan to see what else was going on.

I walked a long way along Michigan. As I approached one particular intersection, an older woman started staring at me. She looked like she was in need of help, so I decided to be a boy scout for the second time, that night. I asked her if she needed help, and she responded that she needed help crossing the street. I guess it really was a boy scout-ly, and I helped her across the street, and then across another, where I left her as she needed no more assistance.

After a while, I decided to leave Michigan, where I had taken photos of several very interesting places, and see what else I could see. I ended up on Rush street, which is apparently the bar scene (other than the one that Phil had shown me earlier). That was less than enthralling to me, so I took a turn onto another street.

And, that’s where things went south. Actually, both literally and figuratively. A block later, I crossed the street. A couple guys in a car let me cross that street. As soon as I had, they turned and followed me. They approached me from behind and asked me what I was up. I said nothing and tried to not engage with them (having learned my lesson), but that was not to be. They followed me for the next couple of minutes, their bumper just a few feet behind me on the street (I was on the sidewalk). I looked around, and in the middle of the block, had no real escape route.

I suspect that they were looking to see if I was attempting to purchase drugs, though I don’t know that for sure. Perhaps they were guarding a territory that I had mistakenly entered. Maybe I was just guilty of being white in the wrong neighborhood. Whatever it was, I was very unnerved.

I continued walking, and after a couple of minutes, they pulled ahead of me and stopped. A vision of them exiting the car and knifing me when I walked by flashed through my mind, so I promptly turned around and headed back the way I had come. Call it paranoia or intuition or inspiration, whichever it was, it felt like the right response. I made a quick turn and then another, watching to see if they followed. They didn’t, or else I lost them, I’m not sure which, but the latter makes me seem more spy-like, so I’m going with that.

I lost them. And, in the process, I got lost myself. The turns threw me off. Also, I found out later, Rush Street was not North-South or East-West, but was diagonal, which probably contributed to my confusion.

I wandered for a while, trying to navigate without pulling out my phone. I had things more or less figured out, and I was heading the correct direction to get back home without any satellitular navigational support, but it seemed like I was walking too far, and I suspected I was heading west rather than east, so I did consult my onboard ambulatory navigation system (aka my phone). It turns out I had just gotten further west than I realized (note the diagonal street reference above), and I was just a couple of blocks away from where I wanted to be.

(Author’s note: I know there’s no such word as “satellitular” which I think would be the appropriate word to mean “of or relating to satellites.” The real word for that definition is “satellite,” but the fact that the word satellite is both the noun and the adjective is verbally inelegant to me, so I invented my own.)

I wasn’t nervous at all about being lost in this unknown city. Being lost and finding my way, to me, is part of the fun; that is, of course, assuming that I’m not pressed for time, and that I have a nice gps system to fall back on, should the need arise.

When I returned to Michigan Avenue, where I again felt entirely secure due in large part to the number of people and ubiquity of street lighting, I was still several blocks from my hotel, so I headed back southwards, again. It was during these last blocks that it occurred to me that wandering around in unknown neighborhood, in the middle of the night, in the murder capital of North America, might not be the best idea I ever had.

But it was an adventure!

Tuesday

On Tuesday night I decided that I needed to get out, again, and so this time I headed down to the river walk along the Chicago River. It was gorgeous. There, you get the best of both worlds: the natural beauty associated with the river and green space on the south side of the river, and the amazing and beautiful architecture of some of Chicago’s older buildings mixed in with newer skyscrapers.

Walking along the river eventually brought me near to Lake Michigan, and I ended up on a marina a couple of blocks south of the Navy Pier. So, I took a few photos of the water, the boats, and the skyline, then I headed north to the pier. I hadn't realized how long that pier actually is, and it took me most of an hour to walk to its end and back.

The walk was fun, though I didn't stop at any of the clubs, bars, amusement facilities, etc. set there for entertainment purposes. I walked back on the opposite side of the pier, which was much less interesting, and, unfortunately, was direly overpopulated with spiders. It felt as though it were inhabited by billions of eight-legged freaks, and I was constantly trying to brush off spider silk.

After my adventure from Monday, I decided that my trip should probably end at 10:00, so when I got back from the pier, I called it a night.

Wednesday

The conference officially ended on Wednesday afternoon, with a tour of the El Loop in downtown concluding around 3:00. On the tour of the El (Chicago’s famous Elevated Train), I of course stopped and took some photos of the station and track at Randolph and Wabash, which is the famous station from While You Were Sleeping. How could I not?

Along the tour I also spotted a library, which was located, conveniently enough, at the station named Harold Washington Library. How could I not go there?

So I did. I took the El down to the station, got off and went into the library. It was amazing. I've never seen any library that even compared. I’m including some photos of it just to illustrate how beautiful it was.

While I was at the library I sat down and thought to myself “I’m in Chicago: what are the things that I do not want to miss seeing while I’m here?” That was an exceptionally good question to ask myself, because it didn't take long to realize that I would kick myself forever if I didn't go see the site of the World’s Fair Columbian Exposition of 1893.

Now, I know, that may not seem terribly exciting to anyone else. What you have to keep in mind with a nerd like me is that that exposition was important for two reasons. First, as a geographer, it was where Daniel Burnham introduced the concepts associated with the White City (and built the exposition thereof), which became the model for 20^th Century North American city form. A lot of the good and bad that comes with modern cities can be attributed to White City. Second, as a tech geek, that world’s fair was a significant moment in the development of all things electric, with Edison, Westinghouse, and Tesla contributing greatly to a vision of a technologically advanced America.

I pulled out my phone and looked it up. White City was built on the spot which is, today, Jackson Park, a 500 acre park, which was only a few miles south of my location in the library. I should note here that my phone was nearly dead at this point; fortunately, very fortunately indeed, I had brought along 3 external batteries into which I could plug my phone. And I did.

I walked a couple of blocks from the library to the Metra train station. The Metra train was the one I needed to get me down to Jackson Park. Metra trains were also paid for, for the week, by the conference, so travelling to White City was going to be free. (I love free!) The train was pulling into the station as I walked onto the platform, so I quickly boarded.

I can’t stress this enough. I went to the Metra Station. It said Metra right on it. As I walked through the terminal an announcement over the PA proclaimed the arrival of a Metra Train. I had a pass for Metra trains.

But the train I got on was an Indiana Line train, which was not what I wanted at all. And I didn't realize it.

A few miles later, just as before we passed the station I wanted to get off at, the conductor asked for my ticket. I showed him my pass. He promptly informed me that I was not on a Metra train, and, instructed me that I would have to exit the train at the next station.

(Author’s note: I have now, to borrow a phrase from the British, been ‘put off the train.’ I never would have jumped fair intentionally, and I certainly wasn't looking to delay my journey to the White City site. That said, I would not trade my expulsion from the train for anything. It was, well, lovely.)

I was not put off the train immediately, but at the next station, which makes perfect sense. Only, unlike the Metra trains, which have stops every mile or so, the Indiana line has infrequent stops. By the time I actually exited at Hegewish Station, I was only 1.4 miles, travelling along the road, not straight-line, from Indiana the State. I was very tempted to go ahead and walk over to Indiana, thereby claiming a third State to which I had never before visited, on this trip. However, my experience had rattled me enough, and delayed my visit to my much-anticipated destination, that I decided to just wait for the next Metra Train north-ish. I wish I had taken the 3-mile round trip walk and crossed the State line, and I knew that I would regret not doing so, but here I am, still never having visited Indiana.

I was relieved, when planting my foot on the platform, to see that the station had Metra labels, indicating that Metra trains serviced the station. I was far enough south that I was a bit worried they wouldn't go that far.

It turns out my worries were founded and the labels were wrong. The only trains going back north to Chicago were South Shore line trains. So, when the train came, I jumped on board, but I had to pay for a ticket. Fortunately, that line did have a stop right at the park where I wanted to go, so I was at my destination a few minutes later, albeit an hour or so later than I had originally intended.

Jackson Park was beautiful, and I got to see the remnants of the buildings erected for the World’s Fair. It was a very fulfilling geeky experience, but to be honest, wasn't much of an adventure to tell. I walked all through the park, and then across it to the east side, which is right on Lake Michigan. In all my travelling around to this point, though I had been right next to the lake several  times, both on the Navy Pier and in Kenosha, I had never been able to touch the water. At Jackson Park, there was a public beach, staffed with life guards, even. I walked out onto the sand and put my hands and feet into the water.

After my little adventure there, I walked back towards my Metra station, where I could catch an actual Metra Train. Because my battery had been low, I hadn't been able to take pictures in Jackson Park, but I had been charging for a while, and I had just enough power to take a few, starting at the lake and on my way back to White City.

I checked my Google maps to find my station, and headed towards the station. When I got there, the station was on a viaduct over my head, which I hadn't realized. So instead of entering the tunnel and then climbing the stairs to the station, I mistakenly went all the way through the tunnel.

How fortuitous! Upon exiting the tunnel I discovered I was standing at the entry to the University of Chicago! This was another of the places I had wanted to visit while in Chicago, but thought I wouldn't have time for with my long detour in getting to White City. I had not realized that it was just a couple of blocks from Jackson Park, but here I was!

I took an hour or so and took a self-guided tour of the University. In all actuality, most of it was in the neighborhood around the University, and not on the campus at all, but that was fine. Once again, you may think this is a rather nerdy destination; and I agree. The University of Chicago is one of the most important spots for those of us in the field of geography; so to me, this was a great experience. I thought, as I wandered around, that were I to do it again, or were I to pursue a PhD, I would do so at the U of C. It was a beautiful campus, and I've lived in worse places!

At this point, my feet were blistered and tender, and I decided to head back. Also, my phone battery had been too low while I was at the Harold Washington Library to take photos of the best part of the building, the mezzanine and glass roof on the top floor. So with a now semi-charged battery, I headed back to the library and from there back my hotel. Incidentally, while using the restroom at the library, I found a couple of other details that necessitated a quick snapshot.

Thursday

Thursday I flew back from Chicago to Salt Lake. The flight was in the early afternoon, and with packing, checking out, and travelling to the airport, afforded me no time for another adventure. It is nice to be home, though.

At home, at last, with Shiloh

It's been eight full weeks since we brought Shiloh home. Now that we're through the rough part, I thought it would be good to write a few details of the story.

We were discharged from the hospital on February 20th, with no real idea of when the doctors would release Shiloh to come home with us. It seemed like it was forever before we got to bring her, but in reality, it was only two days.

On Thursday night, the day we were released, we drove back up to the hospital and spent an hour or so with her, feeding her, rocking her, doing our best to care for her. They had decreased the pressure of her oxygen by a little bit, which was encouraging.

On Friday, we went back twice more, in the morning and in the evening, to see our angel and do what we could for her. They had steadily decreased her oxygen while we were gone, and she was down to where we thought she might actually be able to get off of it. But on Friday morning, they confirmed that though they would let us take her, it would not be without supplemental oxygen. They contacted a home medical equipment facility for us, and ordered the tank, breathing tubes, and monitor equipment to allow us to take her. That night, they also had us take an infant CPR course, just in case.

Saturday morning came, and we returned to the hospital, where the equipment technician showed us how to operate everything. He gave us the number for the tank provider, and when we arrived home we called for the full-size tank (we had a small travel tank that would last only about a day when we left the hospital).

Then, we left. After everything, it was so simple. The nurse walked Ilene and Shiloh to the curb, where I had the car waiting, with the car seat base secured. Simple as it was, it was the most relief-filled moment of the entire week, and Ilene and I were both in tears.

Once we were at home, we got everything set up to keep Shiloh upstairs. For the first two weeks, she hardly moved 5 feet from the playpen that we temporarily set up for her bed.

The oxygen monitor went off constantly. Every few minutes, the sensor reading would drop to 88%, indicating that her oxygen was getting too low. Additionally, the sensor kept getting shifted so that it wouldn't get a reading basically every time Shiloh moved her foot, and when that happened, off went the sensor alarm, waking or annoying us, depending on the time of day or night.

Eventually, we found out that the sensor had gone bad. When we replaced the sensor with a new one, it showed that the oxygen level never really dropped, though from time to time the reading did get interrupted. The sensors were good for about 3 days, maximum, and then they would start showing decreased oxygen again. Once we realized that, we started switching them out more often, and Shiloh never had a problem. So every few days we would drop her oxygen flow rate. Never once did the decreased oxygen cause any problems.

On our visits to the doctor, we informed him of Shiloh's progress. He was always cautious, probably overly so, and before long we tired of prolonging the oxygen treatment. We eventually cut it entirely, though the doc wanted us to keep it on. We kept the monitor on her, and the equipment close at hand in case we needed to reconnect it, but the necessity never arose.

After a week of being off the oxygen and on the monitor, we went back to the doctor and reported that she'd been off the oxygen for a week without a single reading below 96%, and that only momentarily. He wanted us to keep the monitor on for 2 more weeks. We complied. For about 2 days. The thing was, the monitor connection wires and cuff annoyed Shiloh, and so long before we were supposed to, we simply disconnected the monitor. I don't mind that the doc was being cautious, but it had gotten more than a bit ridiculous when she had been perfectly fine for so long. Honestly, we probably had the oxygen on her for twice as long as she needed it.

As I indicated, it has now been 8 weeks (and 1 day) since we were able to bring our little one home from the hospital. A few funny things have happened along the way, like when I added Shiloh to our insurance, but it didn't take, and I actually had to add her the day after the deadline (ha ha, not actually funny). The bill for her care also arrived a few days after that, and insurance had declined payment saying she hadn't been included on the insurance at the time of her birth, which, of course, they don't allow you to add a dependent until after the birth, so big surprise there. The result was that the hospital was informing us that the bill fell to us, and was just a bit over $20,000.

A few phone calls fixed that pretty quickly. With our individual maximum of $2000 out of pocket for our insurance, we ended up with a pretty manageable bill. I know Mom calls it "legalized fraud," but this time, we sure were happy to have the coverage!!!!

In the end, many things have gone right. Looking back, there were some tough and scary moments, but the Lord was with us and saw us through. We were comforted when we needed it, and we received so much support from everyone around us. Within our ward, I think we have about 20 grandmas, many of them bringing gifts of clothing, and blankets, and food, and I don't know what all. (Thank You notes are on their way, though we've been slow about it!)

Shiloh, like Afton, is proving to be a slow grower, and she is barely bigger than when she was born. Compared with a friend's baby (Suzanna and Derek), who I think has doubled in size and is only about 10 days older, she seems so little. But we're not worried because she eats like a champion, and she lets us know every few hours that she is hungry and we better get moving to satisfy her.

Anyway, that's a nice overview of the last 8 weeks, at least, with regard to the development of Shiloh. Thank you to so many who made things easier for us, especially those first few days.

Coming home without Shiloh

It's by far the hardest thing I've ever done,

To be so in love with you and so alone.

The words sung by John Denver ring true. When the girl you love is two days old and the reason for your loneliness is that she can't leave the Newborn ICU, the heartbreak is exponentially greater.

We were discharged from the hospital at 9:00 this morning. The good news is that Ilene is doing well. Very well, in fact. Far better than she did with the first two pregnancies. She's up and running around like she hasn't since before she was pregnant, and probably pushing herself too hard, to be honest. She's even chasing the cats around the house, which is a less-than-amusing side story to this whole saga.

Just before we left the hospital, we got to be with Shiloh for a final care session, involving a diaper change, a feeding, and taking some vital measurements.

Those care sessions were the entire story of the day, yesterday. We went down to the NICU, fed and held her for an hour, then returned her to her isolette (the newborn enclosed bassinet recognizable from all the photos you've ever seen of preemies) so that Shiloh could rest. Then we returned to our postpartum room, past the nurseries with beautiful and healthy newborns, past the rooms of other new mothers who were fortunate enough to have their precious ones with them. We turned on the TV to watch a Redbox movie or an episode of Cake Boss on Netflix (thank you, Google, for Chromecast, provider of infinite distraction), or we took a nap.

Repeat. Every three hours.

Of course, Ilene was still in recovery, and towards the end of the day the periodic cycle taxed her too much, so I went alone to participate in our little ritual.

And, slowly, things improved. At each feeding, she would take just a little bit more from the bottle, allowing her IV flow to be incrementally lowered. Slowly, the pressurized oxygen feeding her lungs was decreased in both O2 percentage and pressure, while her blood oxygen saturation remained in the safe zone.

This morning, Shiloh's intravenous antibotics were turned off when her labs came back clean for the second day in a row, meaning she is now infection free. Because she also has been eating sufficient to maintain her glucose levels in the safe, and even better-than-ever, range, they were able to entirely remove the IV line from her hand (she also had one in her head for a few hours, yesterday, when the line through her hand overwhelmed her veins and stopped delivering fluid for a while).

In fact, by the time we left, today, the only thing she still had connected to her was passive (rather than pressurized) oxygen and the electrical leads monitoring her vitals. One of the common side effects of the pressurized oxygen is irritated nasal membranes, and Shiloh's had swollen, causing her nose to be stuffed up without mucous. The plan was to administer an anti-inflamatory and remove the oxygen this morning.

If her oxygen level stays good, if her respiratory rate and pulse maintain as they have for the past two days, if her glucose keeps coming back solid as she continues to eat, and if nothing else goes wrong, then they have to monitor her for 48 hours from the time the oxygen tube is removed. Then, if all is still well, she can come home to us.

Until then, we try to distract ourselves with Olympics on the DVR, or Cake Boss on Netflix, or maybe just by watching a webcam send images of the motionless Snoopy blanket that sits atop Shiloh's isolette, which blocks out the light and lets her rest, but also prevents us from seeing her directly. In the evening and the morning, as we can juggle Toby and Afton, imposing on Donovan and Olya and the neighbors, we will make the short drive to the hospital to care for and cradle our fragile and beautiful little angel.

For now, my heart beats 5.4 miles away, and sooner or later, I'll probably try to take a breath.

Baby Shiloh

At about 3:00 this morning, I woke up. At first I tried to go back to sleep, but it wasn't taking. I tried lying in bed and checking facebook, hoping my eyes would get heavy again, but that didn't take, either.  Finally, at about 4:30 I got up and went upstairs and flipped on the TV.

Which is why I wasn't there in the room when Ilene's water broke at 4:55. I was happily watching Castle when I heard what sounded like my name being called out. I glanced over and thought that Afton had started to fuss in her room. I decided to let her go back to sleep. A few moments later, I heard my name again, and it was clear that this was Ilene calling.

I ran down the stairs to find Ilene standing over a puddle of slimy clear liquid which had splashed all over the cover she had placed on the floor next to the bed. Good thinking, Ilene, because if it weren't for that, we would have to have the carpets cleaned.

Recognizing it for what it was, we started to move. Ilene started to clean herself up as much as possible and get dressed, while I called Donovan to come get the kids, woke the kids, moved packed bags to the car, etc.

After Donovan arrived and the kids left for a fun couple of days with the cousins, I got Ilene loaded in the car. We left home at 5:31 and arrived at the hospital at 5:50. It took a few minutes to get parked and up to the 4th floor, where they grabbed a wheel chair for Ilene and moved her into triage. Ilene got changed, onto the bed and hooked to the machines. By this time it was about 6:05. Things seemed to be progressing normally, and they checked the cervix, which was about 5 cm dilated.

We sat in the triage room for about 45 minutes, and at just before 7:00, we moved into the natural birth delivery room. Once in the room, Ilene was supposed to get on the bed. That's when things stopped progressing normally. Ilene was trying to get on the bed, but she would have a painful contraction and freeze in the process. She would wait for about 30 seconds after to rest, and then start again, only to be interrupted by another painful contraction. I started tracking on my wristwatch (no time to pull out the phone and use the contraction timer app!), and they were coming every 60-90 seconds and lasting about 60 seconds. Just when Ilene would get on the bed, she would have a contraction and jump right back off of it!

Finally, after about 4 tries, we got her on the bed, and the nurse checked her cervix again. She told us Ilene was only at 7 cm. This was at 7:10. Ilene was starting to panic because the pain was so intense, and she couldn't get comfortable.

Off the bed she came, again. That's when she decided that natural was not the way to go, after all, and it was time for the epidural.  The nurse stuck her head out and asked, only to find out that the anesthesiologist had left (since we had gone into the natural room) to go help with a C-section for another mother. Ilene was not pleased.

Standing beside the bed, Ilene bent over at the waist and started bearing down. The nurse yelled that she needed to get back on the bed and stop pushing because she was only at 7 cm. Ilene yelled back that she was trying not to push but she couldn't help it. We were fortunate that we had a fairly stern nurse, because she, in very serious tones said to Ilene "I would rather have you on all fours ON the bed than next to it." Ilene climbed up on the bed.

The nurse came over and took one look at Ilene's back side and ran straight to the door. She called for the doctor to come in, and she did. This was the attending rather than our doctor, Dr. Deschamps, who was off, or her partner, Dr. Moyer, who was on her way down from the other end of the hospital. The doc said "I'm here just in case" to which the nurse responded "Put some gloves on, she's crowning."

I looked. Yep. It was 7:19.

Dr. Zelenkov followed orders, put on the gloves and started to put on the gown.

7:21. I checked on the baby, who was beginning to slide out. I saw eyes. I saw a nose. I glanced up and saw that the doctor was getting the gown tied on. I decided they might need an update.

"I'm seeing a face here," I said as calmly as the moment would allow. It might have come out more as a panicked scream, I'm not sure. They later told me that mine was the quote of the day. I also stuck my hand under the baby in case I needed to catch.

The doctor took three steps to the bed as the head came the rest of the way out. She got stuck at the shoulders, and the doctor latched on, reaching just inside, and pulled Shiloh the rest of the way out.

7:23.

Shiloh was blue. She had some bruising on her forehead from the quick delivery, but she was getting bluer by the second, having not yet taken a breath. As the doctor cut the cord she said "Usually, I would let you do this if you wanted, but we're a little short on time." The nurses took Shiloh quickly, and within 5 to 10 seconds Shiloh was crying. She was turning pink, relieving me immensely.

Official Stats: 8 lbs 12 oz., 20 inches.

Fast forward past the placenta and getting Ilene adjusted which went fairly quickly and uneventfully.

I took Shiloh and got to hold her for a few moments. Ilene also got to hold her. She was content and quiet, and seemed to be perfectly healthy.

In came the nurses to check Shiloh's vitals. Temperature was a little low, they thought it would be wise to get her under the heat lamp for a few minutes. Blood sugar was...low. Best to have that checked in the lab.

The lab confirmed, blood sugar was 18, which was too low since it's supposed to be over 45!

They took us to the transition nursery where they got her under the heat and started to give Shiloh a bottle. I got to take over the feeding, and the girl finished the entire thing! She ate more at her first feeding than Toby or Afton did in their first 12 hours.

There was a question as to whether with such dangerously low blood sugar they should start an IV. The nurses called the attending pediatrician, who said to hold off and see what happened with the bottle, since she had taken to it so readily.

After a half hour they checked again. Now the blood sugar was at 43, which was much improved, but still to low. In came Dr. Cobb (the pediatrician), and they asked whether to start the IV. He said hold off for another half hour and check again.

At this point, Ilene and I were taken to the postpartum room to get Ilene into recovery. Ilene is doing great. She even is up and walking around on her own, and she says she feels terrific. She was even thinking one day of recovery would be enough. Until...

Once Ilene was settled, I was back to the transition room.

After the half hour, they did a 3rd blood draw. Apparently, Shiloh doesn't care for blood draws. And they didn't get quite enough for the test. 4th blood draw for the extra little bit. The lab reported the blood was clotting and the test couldn't be done. 5th blood draw.

Blood sugar reached 54. We were out of the woods.

By this point, Shiloh's temperature had come up, as well, and they wrapped her up to keep her warm and sent us off to the postpartum room, together.

I got to hold Shiloh for a minute, then Ilene wanted her. Ilene held her for a few moments and I ran to the car to grab my bag with my clothes, computers, and all the other things that we wanted to have for our stay in the hospital.

When I got back to the room, the nurses were just finishing up another check on Shiloh, who was showing as having a bit of a low oxygen level. Off to the nursery with her so they could keep an eye on her. Dr. Cobb checked on her oxygen levels. A while later, Dr. Cobb came to our room to check on things again, and to his surprise, she wasn't with us. After checking up, he reported that Shiloh had to be given oxygen, and with the higher risk of Strep B (because Ilene wasn't on antibiotics for 4 hours before the birth), she was taken into the NICU.

After talking with the NICU neonatalogist, Shiloh is still having difficulty with keeping both sugar and oxygen levels in the normal ranges. She has been placed on an IV to keep her blood sugar up, oxygen to keep her blood oxygen levels normal, and she will be receiving antibiotics in case her Strep B cultures come back positive. She will be on antibiotics for at least 48 hours. She will be in the NICU for at least 2 days.

More to follow once we know more.

In the meantime, a few photos.

The Fallen Reindeer

Here's the story.

From the time we were kids, Mom has always put up this stuffed Rudolph head as a decoration for Christmas. I, personally, never thought much of it. But when Ilene was a kid, her dad was a fan of mounting actual deer heads (taxodermically treated, of course), so she's always found that stuffed Rudolph to be a little morbid. She was commenting on that a couple of months ago when it hit me: what if someone were to have hunted down Santa's reindeer and then mounted them on their wall? And what if that someone were Dad?

It wasn't a large leap, but there was a lot of effort involved. Thanks to Cindy and Ilene who did the bulk of the cutting/sewing, etc. to get the heads together. Thanks to Tanya for writing the very well crafted articles (text below).

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Fernley Leader-Courier

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Monday, December 30, 1996 __________________________________________________________________________

Arctic Dignitary Sought in Homicide Investigation

The body of Utah resident Hortense McEwen was discovered the morning of December 25th near Highway 95. McEwen was in town visiting relatives for the holiday, and had left a Christmas party at her grandson’s house as it was beginning to wind down.

“She was still caught up in the spirit of the holiday,” explained her grandson’s wife, Linda Platt, a long-time Fernley resident. “She got a little carried away and decided to do some impromptu Christmas caroling.” Judy Pannell, who also attended the party, added, “We thought she’d be fine. Sure, she may have overindulged in the egg nog a little, but there wasn’t even any alcohol in it.”

According to police officials, the primary person of interest in this investigation is Kris Kringle, a man known to make annual holiday visits to the city of Fernley. “We aren’t ready to make any accusations yet,” said Officer Dan Castle, “but the evidence is piling up. The hoof prints found on the victim’s forehead alone are noteworthy when you’re looking at an area like this with no significant deer traffic. But the autopsy also turned up evidence of Claus marks on McEwen’s back. That’s incriminating, to say the least.”

Anyone with information regarding this incident is encouraged to contact the Fernley Police Department.

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Reno Gazette-Journal

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Wednesday, December 10, 1997 __________________________________________________________________________

Local Man Swears Vengeance for Death of Grandmother

Marlan Platt, an accountant residing in Fernley, Nevada, has declared his intention to bring the murderers of his grandmother to justice.  Hortense McEwen was killed last year, a crime originally blamed on foreign dignitary and prominent member of the League of Legends, Kris Kringle.  Kringle has formerly been accused of drag racing and speed limit infractions, as well as violations of no-fly zones,  but has  evaded  charges because of his diplomatic immunity.

Kringle, however, denied that he had any connection to the incident in Fernley last year, instead suggesting that his reindeer may have been incited to exercise poor judgment by what he called the “stimulating Nevada atmosphere.”  The reindeer have since been ruled unfit to stand trial, and no one was ever charged with McEwen’s murder.

“If the courts won’t act, I will,” Platt allegedly told Fernley official Judge Lehman during a heated altercation over the decision not to try the reindeer.  When the judge tried to warn Platt off of his vigilante ambitions, Platt respond- ed, “I’m just going hunting.   There’s nothing illegal about going hunting.”

Platt’s decision has sparked controversy, given Kringle’s recent popularity among children and mythical beings.  Many claim he is harmless, even going so far as to call him jolly, but Platt disagrees.  “Don’t be fooled,” he told reporters.  “Kringle is no saint, and those reindeer of his are animals.”

200,000 Pages

If you follow this blog or know me at all, you know that I've been reading A LOT for the past few years. Last year, in particular was a good year, with over 200 books finished (see columns to the right for details).  Just a few days ago, Sunday, specifically, I crossed another major milestone: I reached 200,000 pages read.  This is since I've been keeping track, which I started in 2008.

It's a small thing, something that would probably go unnoticed by most.  But I'm celebrating it!

Mission Slim-Possible 2013

Riverton City's Mission Slim-Possible 2013 started last week with a weigh-in and filling out the registration form.

I got on the scale and discovered I was exactly the weight I ended with from the contest last January!  At least I was able to keep off the pounds I lost, even if I was unsuccessful in losing any more.

Weigh-ins are every Wednesday and I decided that if I have a successful weigh-in, I get to take the kids to a play land.  Yesterday was the first weigh-in and I lost 2 pounds so we went to McDonald's. I know, that sounds bad, going to a fast food restaurant, but there was a play land for the kids and McDonald's puts up the calories on their menu so I got a regular cheeseburger, a parfait, and a water.  Not too many calories so it was good reward for all my hard work, plus the kids had a great time.  :)

The "biggest loser" in the contest gets a prize of $400, first place gets $200, fourth gets $100, fifth gets $75, and sixth place gets $25, the cost of registering.  So if I get sixth place, I get my money back!

The contest goes for 12 weeks.  Last time I lost 10 pounds, this time my goal is to lose at least twice that much.  My dream would be to lose all 40 pounds of the baby weight, but I would probably need P90X or the Insanity workouts to get serious pounds off.  Maybe I should check YouTube to see if someone has posted any workouts from one of them!

January 9 starting weigh-in: 152 lbs
January 16 weigh-in: 150 lbs

I took a "before" picture but it's so horrible that I'll only post it if I can successfully transform my body dramatically and I can post an "after" picture with it that is awesome.  ;)