Christmas, shift work style

Bruce and I both had to work Christmas day. I started in the morning; he in the afternoon. In an effort to capture the energy that arises when a family opens presents together on Christmas morning, Bruce woke up at 6:30 before I headed into work. Evidently, the spirit of the season was so rampant in our household that Torran felt it and woke himself up that early too! (very early morning prezzie opening and we did not have all the lounge lights on.. hence the flash fall off)

Torran had less interest in tearing off the wrapping than he did in playing with the empty boxes. However, very appropriately, he learned the word WOW which he applied to lots of his new toys (even if he doesn`t know what it means, it works).

Oh What a Trio we Were!

Picture this...
Monday night, 1030...
Bruce is bushed because he picked up a night shift the night before and hasn't really slept yet...
I'm recovering from the effect of a very busy 12hr day shift with the reminants of an annoying dry cough...
In his sleep, Torran starts to throw up...

Thankfully, Torran wasn`t very sick but we did have to cancel our speech and hearing therapy for Tuesday morning because there was no way any of us would have survived getting up at 6am!

The Christmas Gift

Last year, our wee man gave us the gross motor skill of sitting up as a Christmas present.

This year, he's reached, after much physiotherapy, worry and hope, offical toddlerhood.

Yes - he's walking! Well and truly walking. He's got some issue with his right leg, ironically, but you can't keep the boy down. I'm sure he'd rather that we lived at the mall where there is lots of room to roam but for now he'll have to cope with only visiting it.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

The Unfortunate Back to Back Random Events

I knew, inevitably these were going to happen: someone will be told Torran's story for the first time and through my workplace I'd meet a woman who didn't want her easily obtained pregnancy.

I just didn't expect them to be back to back events.

On Saturday Bruce and I took Torran to the latest haunt for his physio - the mall. We were probably the only people there who aren't Christmas shopping. In fact, our exceptionally slow pace hampered many last minute Saturday afternoon shoppers as our caravan of mum with stroller, followed by stumbling toddler and dad with harness/arms for catching creeped through the aisle. The physiotherapist suggested it because there is usually enough wide space that Torran won't be lazy and grab on to anything like he does at home, or be distracted by toys on the floor, like he is at home.

Although we were very much in people's way, more often than not we are met with choruses of "awww, how cute" as the wee man wobbles forward with either his arms up in the air like a monkey or clinging to his Elmo which makes a "front pack" on his harness. So we were kinda like "normal" parents.

Eventually, after managing the better part of one quarter of a loop, we put him in the chair and made a stop at Shopper's. Funny aside: when we were standing at the information wall trying to figure out Torran's distance and the information staff asked if he could help us find a store. When we replied that we weren't there for shoppping, but having a discussion on exactly how far our son had walked he looked at us like we each had two heads.

In Shopper's, Torran in his stroller, a woman approached and started cooing over him. His latest trick is to show everyone his rather robust belly button. As he did so, she started with the obligatory clucking, but then stopped herself short, caught her breath and sighed "Oh no! You're too small to have scars like that!"

She was looking at the incision marks on either side of his belly from his shunt insertions. I didn't know whether to laugh ("you 'aint seen nothin'...take a look at the back of his head") or cry (my little man...how small you were). In the end, I maintained my composure and gave her our short of the long version. "He was born three months early, spent four and half months in hospital and has required five brain surgeries, was near death with infection once and we were asked if we wanted to remove his life support three times".

Quickly came the boring same-old question "But he's okay now right?". I want to know whose benefit that question is for? Because it certainly isn't ours or his.

I want to say "No, he's not "OK" and neither are we. He bears the physical scars for which our emotional scars will never heal. There isn't a day that I don't look at the semi circles on the back of his head, the lump of the shunt and the tubing that traces down his neck and torso, the dimples in his heels, the subtle rough texture on his cheeks or mis-shaping of his nose caused by the intubation, the scars on arms, feet, belly and hands and not think about why they are there and what we've all been through when he got them. He cannot be left alone to grow up without every move, vocalization and behaviour scrutinized for problems and ineffective development by ourselves and trained professionals. When he should be hanging out in a play program he's spending hours pacing the halls of a children's hospital waiting for his turn for them pry open his eyes and see what damage lies unseen on his retina. The problem with his hearing may contribute to any learning disorder caused by the anoxia he frequently suffered. His liver is a time bomb that may take all of his hard earned accomplishments away without any thing to stop it. The blood that courses through him can take away his life far earlier than it should. I can't tell him that he can do anything he wants or be anything he wants to be if he puts his mind to it because the truth is that he won't be allowed to because of all of these problems, not to mention anything ELSE that might crop up down the line. And we may go through it all again with a future child"...and yes I could vent on and on at this stranger in front of my son.

But I don't. I smile and say, with sincere pride, "he's doing so much better than we thought he was going to be but he still has a long road ahead of him", hoping that she feels that she's already received more information than she really has the time to hear, including the "everything will be fine" placation and will move on her way (Bruce is still standing in the check-out cue).

And then the woman tells me that she'll keep Torran in her prayers tonight and I find myself humbled, as much as I have issues with a G-O-D that would do/allow/not-prevent what happened to us and so many others.

We know that Torran is far better off than anyone thought he was ever going to turn out. And his present state is far better off than other NICU children we either met or heard of - at least ours came home.

Obviously, though, the horrible emotions are still there and will always be there - brought to the forefront by various situations... commercials about babies around Christmas time or Mother's day, shows about women giving birth (which I still can't watch) or, as happened Sunday by teenaged girls asking "well what do I do now?" for her accidental unwanted pregnancy (the other random event).

AZ pics posted

I've put up a selection of photos from our Arizona trip. Click on the picasa link of our photos on the right of the screen, and then choose Arizona 2009. There may be more I add or comments I edit, but this gives the general idea.

Arizona: Red Rock, White Snow

A while back, Bruce and I decided to book a short get away with my timeshare in Sedona Arizona (USA) before the holidays as we weren't able to make it to the UK for a Santa delivery. Good thing we did because with all the stress that we've been going through lately, we were glad for the few days break!


Arizona was not what either of us expected. The land is so vast and the scale so diverse that we were just amazed. Yes, the plains heading out towards Meteor Crater were rather flat and boring, as was the drive past Flagstaff towards the Grand Canyon. However, the magnifience of the mountain ranges and canyon made up for it in abudance.


We spent the first evening in Phoenix. It was essentially a ghost town. The local "Ambassador" tried to promote it as busier with the main hotel in action (it was undergoing renovations and had closed completely) and there being usually more than just one convention. However, a local matter of factly informed us that the town is "dead". Sadly, I think I saw more homeless people than tourists.

As far as the wee man was concerned, our back garden got even bigger, and he was just as happy there as here... and just as cold at times. Neither of us expected it to be so cold - partly because Bruce misread the weather report of the low farenheit of the local area interpreted as the celcius equivalent. Oops! Good thing we were traveling from Canada with our woolies, unlike the Texans we met who were chilled to the bone!


Sedona is "red rock country", so named for the colour of the sandstone in the area's mountains which are part edge of the Colorado Plateau mountain range surrounding Oak Creek canyon. The name Sedona belongs to the first postmaster's wife Sedona Schnebly because the other suggested names for the post station were too long. Today Sedona is home to a plethora of artists, tourist industry supporters, and interestingly, spiritualists who claim several concentrations or vortexes of the earth's energy exist in the area (I guess it helps that the rocks look nicer than the plateau not too far away).


From here we day tripped to Meteor Crater, the "first proven and best preserved meteor impact site in the world". The crater, in the middle of flat nothingness, lays over 4000 feet across and 550 feet deep. As pointed out to visitors on the viewing platform, there is a boulder on the left side which was tossed out and it's the size of a house... but doesn't look that big from a distance. Unfortunately, Torran most appreciated the shallow steps of the visitor centre, so we didn't get to view the movie which recreated the impact. Farther to the east is the painted desert and petrified forest National Park, but we didn't make it that far.


Another day took us to the world wonder at the Grand Canyon - a name well deserved (although they should have called it the Freezing Cold Grand Canyon). We travelled north through Flagstaff across the highest peaks of the State. And we saw more snow than at home! The peaks have snow three quarters of the year at an altitude of 6500-12000 ft. At the Canyon, the altitude of the viewing rims is even higher and the winds quite strong... and it didn't help that the state had a cold front moving through it (and I don't mean us). There is a free shuttle bus from the visitor centre at the South Rim, although you can also drive and park at most viewing sites. The Canyon is in a National Park, so there is a per vehicle entry fee.


Since we weren't able to do our usual "blitz" of an area (now that we have a kiddo to prioritize and get home at a reasonable hour), we were overwhelmed with the number of things to do in the short time we were away. However, both of us really enjoyed touring Montezuma Castle, an ancient Sinagua Indian ruin. It was named in error by Europeans as they suspected it was a secret "hiding" castle for King Montezuma. However, it had long been abandoned by then. Sadly, the name stuck. It was built around 700 AD and occupied for about 400 years before the Sinagua left the site for as yet unknown reasons. They lived in these man-made apartments in the cleft of a limestone cliff (the first two tiers reached by ladder), and farmed on the flatter fertile ground next to the river. Smart! The stone provided coolness in the summer and retained warmth in the winter, and provided shelter from wind and rain.



Phoenix Skyharbour International Aiport touts itself as the "friendliest airport in America" and the description is pretty darn close! Guides in purple jackets volunteer lots of helpful information both before and after the security gates. Even when we were (yet again) stopped to test our explosive hermetically sealed baby food, the security guard was ever so pleasant and even apologetic. It was a short journey but with the approaching holiday season, we were happy to come home.

Now we just have to figure out what to do about a Christmas tree...