Wired

Here are a few more photos from the hospital. It is so good to have gone wireless with our baby--so nice to not have monitors beeping every time we shift him.

So you know my name is...

Simon Thomas Core
Friday 12 June 2009
American Fork Hospital
American Fork, UT
9 lbs .03 oz. / 19.5"








All told the labor and delivery was 17 hours--5 of which were at the hospital. The midwife and nurses were awesome and James was allowed to catch Simon as he came tumbling out. Immediately upon Simon's emergence from the womb, the delivery room was filled with nurses. He was having trouble breathing, and was whisked away before I really had a chance to see him. He was diagnosed with pneumonia and has been in the NICU for the past 5 days receiving antibiotics. We have stayed on at the hospital as boarders to be near him, and have had such a positive experience with the staff here. Aside from the infection in his lungs, he is a healthy boy with a bright, inquisitive face and a healthy appetite!

I'm putting Baby in the corner

Someone needs to go into time-out for all these false starts I've been getting for the past week and a half. I could handle going over my due date, if my body would just leave me alone and send the continuous and comforting message, "not yet." Instead I have frequent and semi-strong contractions for a 24-hour period, just to have it all come to a screeching halt for a few days like a "gotcha!" gag.

Patience is a virtue.

At first I thought that there was something I was supposed to do before he came--that karma was holding back the waves of labor for me to figure something out or get something done. Nope, I made my list and checked it twice. Then we started deliberately putting ourselves into inconvenient situations and saying aloud, "Goodness, it sure would be inconvenient if this baby came now!" He's not biting. Now I'm wondering if little junior just doesn't get it. Last night he was squirming around like he was stuck under a sheet and couldn't find his way out. Somebody needs to show that boy where the ejection button is.

It's A . . .

Boy, were we excited to go to the doctor back in December to find out the gender of our little bun in the oven. Unfortunately, the doctor was way backed up, so we twiddled our thumbs in the waiting room for approximately 62 minutes, then in the exam room for another 27. As we waited, we hoped that the baby would cooperate and manifest him/herself to us clearly when the time came. Finally, after we were ready to boycott all doctors offices entirely, in came the man himself. The visit was standard: we heard the heartbeat, he took our questions, and then he started to bustle out the door.

Wait! Weren't we going to do an ultrasound? I hated to put such a demand when the workday had already gone so late, but I just couldn't manage to wait another two weeks for the official sonogram. Dr. Y had said at our last visit that we'd find out today.

So instead we were ushered into another exam room. Out came the goopy gel and up slid my shirt to expose the ample (and growing ampler) midsection. It took not long to find the little one, and even less time to determine which way the wind blew.

Not Even the Chair

There comes a time in every American's life when she wonders, "Does Neil Diamond still got it?" Ladies and gentlemen, HE DOES.

Our first act of any significance in 2009 was to drive down to Las Vegas, sans kid, to see the legend at the MGM Garden Arena (James' Christmas gift to me). It was a Friday night.

We arrived at the venue somewhat travel worn and weary, but starry-eyed. I was unsure what the appropriate dress for a Neil Diamond concert was, so we went as we were, in our jeans and sneakers--it was in an arena after all, and the man does say, "forever in bluejeans, babe." After determining that all of the restaurants near the arena were more than we wanted to spend on a dinner, and not wanting to go too far afield, we opted for the food court.

Two slices of pizza, one hot dog, and one well-drenched caesar salad later, we joined the throngs of pedestrians seeing and being seen. It took not long to observe that we were quite under-dressed for such a pastime in such a location. I had honestly thought that the art of dressing up had been lost--or at least that there was no one public place/event that one could go to and reliably find the majority of his fellowmen dressed to the nines. Apparently a Vegas weekend is such a place, at least at a moderately fancy casino. Sequins, silk, feathers, and cleavage abounded. I ached at the missed opportunity to join my sisters in at least the first three ingredients of a fancily-dressed Vegas experience. Ah well, once we got to our seats in the bleachers, I didn't feel so bad. Stilettos and stands don't mix.

People-watching before the show rendered some interesting results. We were removed from the majority of the crowd by several generations, though there were a few other youngsters smattered about. There was a twenty-something indie kid who brought his mom, a young family of four, a few frat boys, and lots of older ladies dressed much younger than their age. 'Course we were in the nosebleeds, so the crowd may have been very different down on the floor.

The show was AWESOME. Neil struck a pose at the end of each song--no really, e-v-e-r-y song ended with all stage lights cutting except for one or two trained on him in some dramatic stance. He opened his set with a lively rendition of "Holly Holy", a really lively rendition--then proffered other classic hits such as "Cherry Cherry," "Love on the Rocks," "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," "Forever in Bluejeans," "He Ain't Heavy," "Brooklyn Streets," "I Am I Said," and of course, "Sweet Caroline." Neil was a gracious host, affable, personable, and totally in tune with what the majority of his fans were there to see: the old stuff, and he gave it to us with gusto. He did do some songs from his new album, which got less of a rise out of the crowd (not that most of the crowd was rising to the occasion of seeing NEIL DIAMOND in CONCERT, the guy next to me didn't stand up once during the entire show).

He ended the first set with "Hell Yeah," which was absolutely perfect. Of course, the minute he started to make his farewells, folks were on their feet filing out of the arena (Gotta beat the rush!). SERIOUSLY?? He's still talking to you, and you turn your backs on him? And besides the appalling rudeness of it, you really aren't going to stick around for the encore????? You don't deserve to be here--you don't deserve to LIVE!! Nobody turns his back on Neil. Every one of those geriatrics rushing home for overdue bedtime got the hairy eyeball from yours truly.

We, of course, remained faithfully at our seats, though standing and screaming ourselves hoarse through the entirety of the encore and until we were quite sure he was not coming back for a second. That was a sad moment. Out we shuffled with the masses. We were electrified; I couldn't stop smiling. James didn't get his voice back for at least four days. It was a good concert.

All Hallow's Eve

There have been those who have expressed an interest in knowing how we followed up last year's spectacular fancy dress. We considered not doing anything for several reasons: who needs all that candy? Jonah wouldn't remember it anyway, and how can you top the King?

James' creativity juiced up, however, and he really got behind the idea of a robot. Jonah, however was not. On Hallow's Eve Eve, my parents came over to accompany us over to the ward Trunk or Treat. Jonah had had a screwy nap day and was cranky. He refused to get into his costume, so after many strategic attempts we gave up (we have quite a clump of video documenting the process which we had planned to put together into a clever little clip, but the best intentions...). We didn't make it to the activity and still have a clutch of sugarbombs lurking around here somewhere purchased to hand out to eager little mouths.

On actual Halloween we got invited by some friends to join them in taking their two little boys around Grandma Allred's neighborhood in Holladay. We hoped that their oldest, who Jonah adores mightily, could possibly coax Jonah into his costume. No dice. He wore the hat, though, and twenty-seven glowstick armbands, and achieved the look of a Tron Hershey Kiss. We toted the real costume around with us just in case.

Three days later, while James was at work, Jonah finally discovered how awesome his costume was and wore it around the house off and on all day.