Mark of Fridays: Baby physics

A baby in happiness tends to stay in happiness, unless acted upon by another outside force. (Such as a barking dog.)

A baby in hysteria tends to stay in hysteria, unless acted upon by another outside force. (Such as a bottle.)

We are thankful for...

...family nearby.
...good friends.
...healthy babies and healthy mommies.
...the start of Illini basketball. And the end of Illini football.
...sleeping through the night. All of us.
...Grandma babysitters.
...good jobs.
...a safe, prosperous country.
...baseball. (Except the Yankees.)
...Diet Coke. Ah, sweet nectar.
...freedom of speech.

...Mark!

It's an abundance of riches this year, folks.

The two-month Mark

Mark Hanley, at two months

Best friends: My family, the doctors at Edward Hospital and any person holding a full bottle.

Enemies: Pyloric stenosis. Not that it's any match for me. Pyloric stenosis is a chump.

Insulted by: People who frown when they say they're feeling 2 feet tall. There's nothing wrong with being 2 feet tall. I should know. In fact, that could be the new way to say someone's awesome. "Look at Josh. He's engaged to that really cool girl. He must feel 2 feet tall."

I'm not so sure about: Thumb sucking. I hear a lot of other babies talking up thumb sucking, but I have no idea where this so-called "thumb" is. I prefer to just jam my whole fist in my mouth. It makes me feel 2 feet tall.
I'm also not so sure about: This Dad guy. A few weeks ago, he got stuck in the baby carrier. Is he certified to watch kids on his own? Can I see some documentation on that?
Favorite activities: I really like the smiling thing I came up with. I just thought it up and get this: it didn't even take me long to invent! Now, whenever I do it, so does everyone else! I knew I should have copyrighted it.

Things I don't like: Still not crazy about the people who take the bottle away. I mean once it's out of my mouth, it might never come back! It could be gone forever! Where is it? I need that bottle! Help! Why are you torturing me? Oh, there it is. Ahhhh.

I have a crush on: Car rides. Rev up that 23-mile-per-gallon engine on the Honda CRV and I sleep like, well, me.

Major accomplishments: I don't think it's any big deal, but Mom and Dad seem to pretty pumped that I slept eight hours straight one night. (If they're that easy to impress, high school should be a cake walk.) I handled surgery better than most adults. I'm slowly learning to lift up this giant melon they call a head. Oh, and the smiling.

Mark of Fridays: Thursday edition

Hey, look! It's Aunt Laura!

It was fun to meet Aunt Laura!

She's cool!

Mark of Fridays: Tested for maximum cuteness

Honestly - isn't that the best looking kid you've ever seen? C'mon.

If he uses that face when he asks for a pony, Lynne and Matt are in big trouble.

Mark of Fridays: Mark and Jack

Matt was very worried about having a little baby in the home with a little - and occasionally very jealous - dog.

Jack growls at Matt when he comes home from work and takes Lynne's attention away for a few seconds. Jack is rambunctious and Jack doesn't know anything about boundaries. It's cute for big people, but Matt wasn't so sure about little babies.

Matt warned Lynne that if there were any problems with Jack and Mark, then Jack was outta here.

"But he's just a dog," Lynne pouted. "He's like family."

Gimmie a break.

So Matt was tense when Jack finally came home to meet Mark. And for the first two days they were together, Jack sat under a chair, shaking in terror.

Matt was sure that would wear off. And it did. Sort of.

Jack is no longer scared of Little Mark. And for a while he didn't seem all that interested. He doesn't go near the baby, hardly ever. And he never puts a paw on him.
It appeared that Jack was disinterested in his new roommate. But then Matt left Mark in the car seat downstairs one day and ran upstairs to grab a burp cloth.

Mark started to let out a little cry. Jack leapt up to the landing between the first and second floor.

Jack looked at Matt. He barked.

Jack looked at Mark. He barked again.

Jack looked back at Matt. Bark.

Jack looked back at Mark. Bark.

Matt is not big on anthropomorphizing the dog, but it's pretty clear that he was worried about Mark and wanted to let Matt know something was happening. It was pretty darn cute.

So, apparently Matt will never be able to get rid of this dog.

Adventures in parenting

Lynne and Matt knew this parenting thing would be full of challenges and unexpected surprises. They just didn't know they would happen so soon.
As a few of you have heard by now, Mark was in the hospital last week. And he had a little surgery. Yeah, it kept us all awake for a while.
But, before we get any further, let's be clear: he is fine now. In fact, he's better than ever. As for his parents, well, this is just the beginning of visits to the Gray Hair Motel.
It started about three weeks ago. Mark had been wolfing down formula like they were discontinuing the stuff. Just a few weeks old, he was often eating 6 ounces in one sitting. Even the doctors were impressed.
Then he started throwing up. Not spitting up, but full-on, gagging, turning red, projectile vomiting everything in his stomach. It started as just once in a while, but within a day or two Mark was throwing up between six and 12 times a day. Lynne and Matt were doing a load of his laundry every day and using blankets as spit-up rags, just to keep up with the volume. As you can imagine from that disgusting description, it was hard on everyone.
Mark wasn't sleeping as much because he was always hungry. Lynne and Matt weren't sleeping much because they were terrified by the amounts he threw up and the ferocity that it spewed out. Lynne and Matt tried to convince themselves they were overreacting - that this was normal - but they suspected something was not right.
Of course, they took him to the doctor. Mark was still gaining weight, so the doctors weren't too concerned. They thought Mark had acid reflux, perhaps from the stress of knowing he could grow up to look like Matt. The doctors gave Lynne and Matt some cereal to add to Mark's formula and recommended a brand of bottles that would slow down how much he could eat.
It didn't make much difference. Still throwing up. Still hungry. Very little peeing and no poops. Lynne and Matt were at the end of their wits, worried about him, afraid to put him down.
So they brought him back to the doctor on Tuesday. He had lost about 12 ounces, which set off alarms. And, in case the doctors still had any questions, he puked on their table.
So, they took an ultrasound of his stomach and found that he had a relatively rare (3 in 1,000 babies) condition called pyloric stenosis. There's a pretty good diagram and definition here, but basically it means the pyloric muscle at the end of the stomach gets too big, so the food can't move to the intestine. It keeps backing up and then there's only one way out.
It happens more often in boys and more often in first born boys. No one seems to know why it happens to them, or why it happens at all.
The doctors saw all this in the ultrasound right away and told Lynne she had to take Mark to the hospital that day. The doctor said Mark would need surgery - maybe that night. Matt met them back at Edward Hospital. Of course, everyone was nervous, but they were comforted because the doctors were not panicked. They had seen this a million times before. No big deal.
So, Wednesday afternoon Mark went in for surgery. Were Lynne and Matt stressed? Of course. But if he didn't have the surgery, Mark would continue to dehydrate. And, the surgery was "routine" (a difficult word to swallow when they're prepping a 5-week-old) and lasted just 15 minutes. Plus, Lynne and Matt had watched Mark struggle for two weeks. If this could make him better, that was a good thing.
And you know what? It was a good thing. The surgery went off without a hitch. They thinned out the muscle and - presto - he's good as new. Maybe better. He has a scar no longer than a dime on his belly button. You can hardly see it now and by the time he's 1 years old, it will be virtually invisible.
In fact, the most traumatic part was watching them put the IV in Mark's head (see above picture). When he came into the hospital, Mark was too dehydrated to get an IV in his hands or feet. So they had to put it in his head. It didn't seem to bother him, but he looked like a Robot Baby.
In fact, through all of this - the IV in the head, the hospital stay, the surgery - Mark was the least upset of anyone. He responded great and was eating formula three hours after coming out of recovery. He took it all much better than his parents and grandparents. He's a tough little guy.
He's back up to 4 ounces of formula. He can sleep at night. He can lay on his stomach. He looks chubby again. He's smiling. Lynne and Matt have never been so happy to smell a poopy diaper. And he hasn't thrown up once.
It's like he went in for his 5-week tune up and now he's ready to race.
(Although the doctor's did point out that between the c-section and the pylroic stenosis, Mark is going to pretty elaborate lengths to be an only child.)
And Lynne and Matt were once again reminded how lucky they are to live in a time where this can be diagnosed and fixed within hours, reside in a country where brilliant doctors are minutes away and work at jobs with great insurance.
And once he finally got some sleep, Matt couldn't help but think about this surgery from the perspective of years later. Matt thought about Olympic coverage, when the announcers talk about some athlete who, when he was born, had some horrible malady. "The doctors told his parents he would never walk...but now he's winning the marathon!" or "His mother was devastated when surgeons told her the gills couldn't be removed...but now he's the world's greatest underwater swimmer!"
So, it's fair to assume that at the 2021 Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, you may hear an announcer saying something like...
"At just 5 weeks old, Mark could no longer digest his food. But now he has eaten 54 hot dogs in 8 minutes. A new world record!"
And Lynne and Matt will be there, cheering, every hair on their head gray as concrete.