One of the first things I bought for the boys last January, after finding out that they would be boys, was a shirt I found on clearance at Baby Gap. I was on a mission to find whatever cute things I could, to prove that there were, in fact, cute things available for baby boys (this is still a far harder task than it should be…). Anyhow, it’s a shirt, an adorable shirt with a picture of a hippo drinking orange soda, and I remember when I bought it thinking that they would probably be wearing 6 -12 month sized clothes in one year, that I couldn’t wait for January 2011 to put one of my adorable sons into this adorable shirt.
And of course, we’ll be lucky now if they’re still able to wear their 6-12 month sized clothes at the end of January! I pulled the shirt out this morning and put it on Jack and he is *almost* too tall for it. He’s a skinny little scrap of a guy, but he’s TALL. But anyway, seeing that shirt on him today reminded me of that moment in time last year when I barely knew that they would be boys, much less WHO they would eventually be, and I remembered that little bit of time when hope first crept in that I would, eventually, be bringing home two little beings and that they would eventually grow into this tiny little shirt with the tiny little hippo*… Sigh.
Today, we took the boys in for a quick nurse visit to have them tested for HS, which is an inherited blood disorder that causes red blood cells to be shaped like spheres instead of the vaguely donut shape they usually have. It’s not a big deal, not typically deadly or anything, but it is a condition that needs to be managed somewhat (basically, because the body reads these spherocytes as “damaged”, the spleen tries to do it’s job and remove them from the blood stream. However, when there are many, many, many of these spherocytes, it causes the spleen to become enlarged, and generally, it needs to then be removed. This, of course, doesn’t resolve the spherocytosis, but it does resolve the main detrimental issue with having this disorder, which is potential rupture of the spleen. And thus ends your medical lesson of the day.). Aaaanyhow, H has this disorder (had his spleen out when he was 8-ish?), and it’s something we’ve been concerned about since we began to think about building a family. We considered trying to pursue PGD to select embryos without this disorder, but it’s such a rare disorder, and even the badass embryologist at our clinic was simply unsure of whether there was a marker available to test for, and furthermore, since the impact on H’s life has been relatively minimal, we just didn’t find it all that important.
But anyhow, today we took them to the clinic to have their blood drawn. Holy MOLY, they took a lot of blood! Two large vials from each boy, which seems like a lot for their tiny little bodies. But they seem no worse for the wear, I suppose. It’s apparently a fairly complicated test, one that they don’t run at any labs locally, so the blood had to be drawn and then hurried to a lab in a city about an hour from here, to be run through some sort of timed test. So, after wondering for quite a while about whether or not whether our children would also be affected by this disorder, we should very soon have an answer. I am surprisingly eager to find out, after all these years of wondering, though of course hoping that the tests are negative for spherocytes (or whatever it is that they are looking for that would indicate that they have HS…).
I remain a complete wuss as concerns the boys and needles. So far, I have made H hold them any time they’ve been given shots, because, while I have pretty much resolved any needle-phobia I used to have, I cannot bear to watch my boys being hurt, much less hold them down to let someone else hurt them, even if I know it’s for their own good. And I think it’s not only that I don’t want to participate in their “pain”, I also don’t want to be seen by the boys as part of the team inflicting pain on them– I want to remain the comforter, the one who soothes the pain. And I think that’s kind of unfair of me to make H constantly be the one to hold them while they get stuck with needles. Of course, both boys have been fine shortly afterward with each needle encounter, but still. How do you all handle shots/blood draws, etc. in your house?
Lastly, I just got back from the fabric store, where I got supplies to make this quilt:
Faux Chenille Blanket
Okay, not this exact blanket, but a similar one. Henry just loves blankets, so I think I’ll be making him this one for christmas using some of those absurd flannel receiving blankets that are adorable and soft, but utterly useless beyond about one week old. And I decided that if I was going to make one for Henry, I should make one for Jack, too. So they will hopefully both be getting one of these for christmas, provided I can actually finish them in the two weeks left before we leave for Texas (and leave my sewing machine…).
Thanks to Rachel for introducing me to Made, as I now have about SEVENTY THOUSAND new projects on my craft list, most of which will probably never be finished! So far, I have tried hand-dyeing onesies, and a bit of freezer-paper stenciling, with mixed results (I’m going to try making reusable silk-screen-style stencils next, because cutting and fixing detailed paper stencils for just one use makes me a little batty…). Anyhow, if I ever produce anything I like, I’ll post it here. But, if you’re a crafty type, and you haven’t seen the site yet, you should check out Made.
So. That’s the haps in our house this week. What’s up with you?
*the German word for hippopotamus translates as “horse of the Nile”, which is pretty cool, but I think ‘hippopotamus’ wins the lingual fight, since it’s a lot more fun to say…
**Bonus photo here:
Henry’s palate is a bit more sophisticated than Jack’s, preferring the teething ring to socks and toes…