Our Road to Building a Family - Our First Visit to the ER

It's been roughly a month since the situation I'm going to recount in this blog entry took place, and to be 100% honest with you we've been on a bit of a roller coaster ever since then regarding matters relating to the Duke's health. I don't want that to alarm anyone because he's really fine, it's just that we've had an interesting few weeks and it all began the morning of Wednesday, January 28.

Our routine is such that every weekday morning my wife & I get up between 6-6:15 AM to begin our day. My wife will get her shower and get dressed whereas I'll do what's necessary to prep Duke for his day. This always involves changing his diaper into a fresh Pampers Swaddler (they come with a Sesame Street character on them; I've grown fond of talking to the character, and I end the conversation with "I'm sorry but you're about to have a very bad day..."), sometimes a fresh outfit (depending on whether or not we re-dressed him the night before), and maybe a bottle if he's feeling hungry. Pretty standard stuff in the way of infant maintenance, and his attitude is such that he's very cheerful throughout whatever processes we're involved with. He's really quite remarkable in that regard.

The morning in question, though, Duke was not his normal self. He was fussy to the point of seeming agitated. Duke is a very warm-natured lad, much like myself, but I knew as soon as I touched his forehead that he was much warmer than what he should've been. We checked his temperature (in the most invasive manner possible - sorry, son, but it had to be done) and that verified what we both feared. He had a fever in the area of 102 at that moment. We checked it again a few minutes later and it had risen to 103.

That being the case, my wife & I - being the first time parents that we are - did what first time parents are bound to do when their baby is sick, that being to completely freak out in regard to what needs to be done next.

We threw on some clothes (I think I might have been wearing jogging pants, an old t-shirt I normally do yard work in, my cold-weather vest, a baseball cap, and a pair of Crocs - hey, at least I wasn't wearing socks with the Crocs), gathered up a few supplies for Duke in one of his travel bags, bundled him up in his car seat and drove as quickly as we could to the emergency room at the Regional Medical Center in Orangeburg, South Carolina. Why? Because that's what we had been told to do if he ever had any kind of urgent need, medically speaking.

My wife is somewhat familiar with the ER at RMC seeing as how she & I had been there several years prior when she thought she'd been bitten by a particularly nasty spider - turned out she had an infected hair follicle. (I will never let her live that down, ever.) When we got to the ER on this occasion we were somewhat haphazardly checked in by the staff at the admissions desk. (FYI: Patient identification wristbands that are sized for an adult DO NOT fit an infant.) We didn't have to wait long before we were taken into the triage area where Duke's vitals were taken. We then progressed on to an examination room where Duke was given a battery of tests to try and determine what was going on with him.

This experience made me realize that even though doctors and nurses can do amazing things these days thanks to medical science, the techniques they have for harvesting data from someone like Duke are rather infuriating to witness as a parent. At one point we waited outside the examination room while two nurses tried to get a blood and urine sample from him. Suffice to say when you hear your child screaming like he was then your instinct is to run to them, but we couldn't - we'd have only been in their way. I was able to get in on the act myself later on, though, as I was tasked with holding him in place while he was given a chest x-ray. As an aside to the unpleasantness we were all a part of then, I did get a kick out of hearing the imaging technician said "We're going to need a big one..." to his nurse when they tried to put a protective vest on me.

I'm going to fast forward through some things here, mainly because of the fact most of it involves the three of us sitting in an examination room that was the size of a jail cell while people in all manner of disarray wandered by the door (that part just about made me lose my mind - you know you've had an interesting day when one of your memories from it is the sight of a guy in a hospital gown carrying what could have been either a container of his own sick or possibly some kind of sample). What it all boils down to is that after having his blood drawn, urine collected, nose swabbed (to check for RSV and flu), chest x-rayed, and probably a few other things I've put out of my mind, we were told Duke likely has "something viral" and that we should give him some Child's Tylenol to help sooth the fever.

We were there from 7:30 AM until 1:30 PM, and "something viral" is the best they could tell us. That and a prescription for an antibiotic were our only genuine takeaways from the experience. (Apparently there's someone else in Walgreen's accounting system with the same name as the one Duke's biological mother gave him; hopefully that fellow understands why his insurance has been billed for a prescription of apple-flavored amoxicillin.) In the days following our little day trip to the ER, we learned from other parents that "something viral" is a common explanation for a lot of things when it comes to diagnoses that are given to children. I believe this is why doctors are said to be medical practitioners - they're still practicing because they haven't gotten it right yet.

Even though "something viral" is the only cause that could be determined for Duke's fever his initial blood work showed a few oddities for which we've had to take him back for several more blood draws and further examination. The results of those tests have been similarly inconclusive with everyone involved (as in the people making six-figures a year, who drive Range Rovers and wear Movado watches) more or less shrugging their shoulders while saying, "Well, it's probably his body's reaction to something viral."

I think I'm going to start using that myself as an excuse in everyday life.

"Robert, why didn't you come to work today?"
"Oh, it was something viral..."

"Robert, why haven't you paid the mortgage in 5 months?"
"Oh, it was something viral..."

"Robert, you caused World War 3, why would you do that?"
"Oh, it was something viral..."

My personal opinion of these additional tests aside (I know a lot of doctors and nurses mean well but I also know some of them look at a patient like Duke as if he were a living, breathing ATM machine), it goes without saying that we'll do whatever we need to do in order to insure his health. I just wish we weren't over a barrel with these suggestions from his doctors. Almost any other parent in the world could have refused those tests but we have to go along with whatever they say because of the fact that we can't do anything to jeopardize our standing in the adoption process. It is what it is - I'm just glad he's doing better.

And now we know better as well. You have to take a few lumps in going through this rookie parenting thing.

We seem to learn something new every day because he's changing every day. Duke just turned four months old last week. He's to a point now where he's picking up on things visually more and more, and he's learning how to use his hands better. (Jill will attest to this as he's to a point where he'll reach up and grab her lovely blond hair.) One of his latest tricks is that he can raspberry rather well and he can make a very loud "smack" with his mouth. He's measuring in the area of 14-15 pounds and is a little more than 23 inches, which his pediatrician tells us puts him right in line where he should be in terms of his physical progression.

Our Road to Building a Family - 10 Things I've Learned from "The Duke"

I will be upfront in saying that with this list I'm ripping off my wife's recent post over at her blog, The Truesdale Times, wherein she discussed 10 things she's learned from the time we've had thus far with our foster/hopefully adoptive child, who will be known in these parts until further notice simply as The Duke.

10) I don't know what we would do without family & friends

I pointed out in my previous submission to this blog series the fact that my wife & I had absolutely nothing in our home that would make it a suitable dwelling for a newborn when we got the call about The Duke being available. As a matter of fact, we had gone to great lengths to prepare our home for older children as we never anticipated we'd have the opportunity to potentially adopt a baby. Everything we were told in the training sessions we were required to sit through before we could be approved as adoptive/foster parents lead us to believe we had a better shot at finding a four leaf clover, getting struck by lightning, and winning the lottery all in the same day than of getting a baby.

That said, I don't know where we'd be if not for donations and gifts from the people we're lucky enough to have as family and friends. What most couples prepare for over the course of 9 months we did in a matter of hours, but only because we are surrounded by people who love us and who were willing to participate in The Duke's life. To anyone who helped us in any way, shape, or form, we can never say thank you enough!

9) Uninterrupted periods of sleep don't exist

I have to say that this has not been so much a learning experience for me as it has been for my wife.

Before The Duke came along I would typically get in bed around 10:30 PM, watch a little TV, and finally conk out by 11:30 or midnight. I drink a fair amount of water in the evening, and as a result I have to get up usually once or twice a night to relieve myself. (Too much information? Probably, but we're not done yet with the subject of bodily excretions in this blog entry, not by a long shot!) As such, I'm somewhat accustomed to having to put myself back to sleep every night after an interruption. The biggest difference now is that the "interruption" has to be fed, have his diaper changed, and then settled back into his own slumber before I/we go back to Dreamland.

The Duke is in a pattern of becoming needy about once every 3 to 3 and a half hours. So long as we time it right even with having to tend to him we can still get a good 6 or 7 hours of sleep per night, which is about what I was getting before.

8) Burping is not only necessary, it's encouraged

If you consider how newborns receive sustenance, you'll quickly realize why it is that they need to burp. They're on a liquid diet and they're going to wind up swallowing air. That air can be quite painful once it's trapped in their tiny bellies. Their little bodies aren't finely tuned enough to be able to bust out a burp as needed, so they need some assistance in the form of a pat on the back.

That said, The Duke burps like a grown man. He has all the power and volume behind his belches that I do, which is saying something seeing as how I've got roughly 34 more years of experience in the matter than he does. I'm sure that as he grows up he'll continue to hone these skills so that he's ready to vocalize a proper burp - because being able to throw a lighthearted jab at one of your buddies through a burp is part of what being a man is all about.

7) Baby formula is ridiculously expensive

We noticed that when The Duke was on a traditional formula after we first brought him home that it appeared to be going straight through him, meaning he wasn't getting the nutrition he needed. After talking to his doctor, we switched him to a soy-based product and he's really taken to it. He was a little over 6 pounds when he was born but I would say he's closer to 8 by this point in time.

I will admit that I had never looked at formula prices before now - all I can say about the matter is holy crap, why is this stuff so expensive?! It's just a powdered mix, how can it cost that much? Are soybeans on some kind of endangered species list? You'd think he was drinking something derived from a rare earth metal. And it's not like the stuff is packaged in a glass vial that was shaped by a master craftsman then scrubbed and polished by hand. It's a can for crying out loud!

Of course I say that even though when I was still working out regularly I used to pay $20 or more for a tub of protein powder. I guess that was different seeing as how I might take one or two doses a day versus him who's taking 7 or 8 per day.

6) Daycare is ridiculous

Up until now I had only heard stories of how daycare operations are so overcrowded that many have waiting lists and that if or when you do get approval for entrance into one the costs can be staggering. Suffice to say that we can verify both of those presumptions as being factual.

5) Baby poop is a horrific example of the sort of material our bodies can produce

I discussed formula earlier in this entry and I also mentioned how The Duke is on a soy-based formula. It still baffles me, to a degree, how a person like him can ingest what is a liquid (albeit one that is certainly loaded with vegetable fiber) and then poop what is most certainly a solid. It went in one end as a fluid but it came out the other end as this oddly chunky, not quite mustard yellow but not quite beige colored matter the odor of which is somewhere between rotting animal carcass and construction site port-a-potty.

It's a visual and smell that I wasn't necessarily prepared to have to deal with. I haven't gone so far as to invest in a HAZMAT suit but I am considering purchasing one of those inclosures with the rubber gloves in them - you know, like the type you see in monster movies where a scientist needs to examine a specimen but doesn't want to touch it for fear of contamination? I may have to run a ventilation line but that's alright.

4) When it comes to interpreting the needs of a baby, science has failed us

The Duke is a grunter. As in when he makes his presence known it's not through a coo or some kind of gentle sound, it's through a "HNNNNNGH!" or a "WUUUURGH!" When he starts to grunting you can safely bet that in short order he's going to need either a bottle or a fresh diaper.

That said, our boy isn't a particularly fussy baby however there have been times where he'll cry and we have no idea what his need in that moment actually is. Are you hungry? Here's a bottle. Wait, why are you still crying? Your diaper is full? Okay, lets change it - wait, I did what I thought you needed, why are you crying now? You don't like being naked and it's chilly in the house? Well why didn't you say that to begin with?

I'm shocked there isn't some kind of gadget out there that can accurately predict what it is that a baby like The Duke needs when he begins to sound off about a given displeasure he's experiencing. I don't know what a device like that would cost but I would be willing to at least consider buying it if it existed. It would seem to be a more worthwhile product than a lot of the other seemingly useless and/or limited baby tech that's out there.

3) Babies require roughly the same amount of gear as is needed for a military deployment

Speaking of baby tech, I am dumbfounded at the volume of gear that is available these days for parents to equip and accessorize their baby. I can only compare it to the cellular phone industry in that there exists this insane, fanatical culture centered around outfitting today's children with stuff that they don't know they have and would more than likely be just as well without. What's worse is the fact that to the modern parent all of it is apparently necessary, although I would say that aspect has more to do with Mom and/or Dad wanting to maintain a particular social status level through ownership of a certain stroller, car seat, or what have you than it does with serving the needs of the child.

There are things in my house right now because of The Duke that I have no idea what they do (some of which I have no desire to learn what they do) or that I could do without because I already had a device or process that accomplished the same task. Case in point, after we brought home The Duke I bought a lidded trash can (with the little step you can press to raise the lid) and a pack of stick-on air deodorizers thinking that would be an adequate containment unit for diapers and other waste. All totaled, it cost about $11. Was it sufficient?

Someone gave us one of these things, a Diaper Genie by Playtex.

If you've ever seen the bio-hazard disposal boxes mounted on the wall of a hospital or doctor's office examination room, this is essentially the same thing only instead of needles and bloody gauze this is for poopie diapers. Depending on what model you opt for, these things will set you back anywhere from $30-$40. The kicker, though, is that it doesn't use ordinary trash bags - instead it uses a cartridge pre-loaded with a sleeve of plastic that you must cut and tie off as needed. How long will the cartridge last? Who knows but refills of these cartridges cost $7 a pop!

So, just to re-cap where we stand with my trash can versus the Diaper Genie...

My Trash Can:
- Initial investment: $11
- Recurring costs:
     * $30 for 1,000 trash bags purchased from buying club
     * $3 per pack of deodorizer inserts

Diaper Genie:
- Initial investment: $35 (I split the difference)
- Recurring costs:
     * $7 per cartridge

If you do the math, the trash can wins handily in terms of cost of ownership over the lifetime of the device. Plus, who's to say manufacturing of the refills doesn't up and stop or that a new & improved model won't come out leaving you with no way to wrangle the poopie diapers? You're left with a gun for which no one is making bullets and that's not a good thing. Also, you can continue using the trash can well into the future either in the child's room or somewhere else in the house. At some point the child won't be in diapers anymore - what will you do with the Diaper Genie then? You might have gotten your money's worth out of it by then and I guess you could hold onto it until you're wearing Depends. The latter option is a personal choice and not one I'm ready to make right just yet.

2) Stores specializing in baby gear are oddly terrifying

My wife & I went to a Buy Buy Baby location last weekend in Columbia, South Carolina. (As it turns out, BBB is a sister store to Bed Bath & Beyond - whoever owns these things has some affinity for the letter B apparently.) It was the first time I'd ever set foot inside a store that sold nothing but baby products. To say that I had a hard time digesting the entirety of the thing would be an understatement.

Why? I can't hammer it down to be totally honest with you. I guess I assumed that babies weren't so complicated that the breadth of offerings in a store like that one would be as vast as they are. Sure, a lot of it is worthless stuff that people buy because they can, but I couldn't get over how it is that all of those products exist. Because if they exist, someone bought them and uses them. Babies have gotten along for a very long time without things like the Pee Pee Teepee (I'm pursuing a patent on a rival product right now, which I'm calling the Tinkle Tent), but there's a Mom or a Dad out there right now that won't change their son's diaper without it because they're mortified at the thought he might score a head shot on one of them with a well-timed stream of whiz.

1) Priorities

There was an indie professional wrestling event last Sunday (November 2) in Cayce, SC promoted by a company called WrestleForce which I have featured previously in my Rasslin' with Redbeard YouTube show. When I'm at events like that one I typically will record the matches (provided the federation in question has voiced no opposition to my doing so) then later on I'll add them to my YouTube channel (which you can find here at this link). I don't want to toot my own horn but after that particular show I was contacted by three of the wrestlers that had performed on the show who wanted to know if I was there because they were eager to see and share footage of their matches.

I wasn't at the show. For obvious reasons.

That's not my way of saying I'll never go to another pro wrestling event; far from it, actually, as I would hope to be able to get to one or two a month even now. I had just spent the night in North Carolina the weekend before in order to attend a show in that state. Even though the building where WrestleForce runs their shows is less than 45 minutes from our house, it wouldn't be fair of me to take off two weekends in a row and leave my wife to tend to our child by herself.

Only I would use professional wrestling as an analogy for pertinent life lessons, right? It's a valid example of the fact that we're parents now and there will quite often be times where our schedules, needs, wants, and desires are going to play second fiddle to The Duke's schedule, needs, wants, and desires. Parents have to be prepared for that.

To me, sacrificing things like personal interests for the sake of being a considerate, involved parent is just one more way of showing how much you love your children. That doesn't mean giving up on your own aspirations, rather that as a parent you've got to acknowledge the responsibility that comes with the life you're charged with shaping while continuing your own life. For some that might mean not going to the movies or out to dinner as often, for others it might be that your work hours have to change or that you'll have to look at your classes to see what will be best going forward. Everyone can do it, you just have to be willing to put in the work to make it happen.

Being a Mom or Dad takes a level of maturity that a lot of people just plain don't seem to have these days, and I feel like that's why some relationships fail after children come into the picture. My wife & I aren't as young as a lot of new parents are when they bring home their first child. We're fortunate enough to have already done a lot in our lives and are fairly content with where we are emotionally and professionally. I've made the comment before that I don't have a whole lot of goals left in my life. I met a President of the United States. I've traveled abroad. I have a stable career. I was front row at a Metallica concert. I could name others but I'm sure you get the idea. Saying you've checked off a lot of items from your list of things to do isn't bad. It means I can be more in tune with allowing things to happen in my life as opposed to having to chase them as hard as I would have otherwise. It's an especially good thing now because it will allow me to enjoy being a Dad without feeling like I've got to impose my will on my wife or The Duke in order to pursue some arbitrary gain that, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't matter as much as making sure that little boy grows up to be healthy and happy.

Our Road to Building a Family - When You Least Expect It

Since I last made an entry to my "Our Road to Building a Family" series, my wife and I had been doing our best to remain cautiously optimistic about our prospects moving forward.

We'd more or less re-established ourselves as we were prior to the moment when the three children who were placed with us came into our lives. We got back into our own routines; work, hobbies, house work, date days/nights, work, and more work. Jill's efforts at being an advocate for us were quieted - not silenced but they definitely became more reserved. Heartbreak has a way of making you rethink what you did to get to where you are, obviously. Her candle had been burning at both ends for so long and so hot that the wicks just couldn't sustain that same fire anymore.

I feel as though we both had accepted the fact that we might have burned a bridge with the organization we'd been working with in having to relinquish custody of the sibling group that was placed with us, and that in so doing we might have put ourselves into an "undesirable" category within their filing system for potential adoptive parents. You'd hope that sort of thing doesn't exist in a program like this, and just to be clear we have no legitimate reason to believe it does. (I wanted to make sure that statement was made as the Department of Social Services in the state of South Carolina gets dragged through the mud enough as is.) Even so, paranoia will make even the silliest untruth seem feasible.

Work, for me, has been particularly busy the past few weeks. As someone who works with information technology in the public sector, the beginning of a new fiscal year tends to be on the other side of ridiculous in terms of expectations. Offices and officials have budgeted for certain items and they want to purchase those items as soon as possible so that they can enjoy the benefits of having new tech in their employ. Quite frankly I can't say as I blame them. Between new installations and service calls, I haven't spent a whole lot of time behind my desk as of late. It's tough to juggle at times, however it's been a welcome respite as it's been something I can use to take my mind off things that have been bothering me. Feeling as though we'd missed an opportunity and not understanding why we had to go through that, mostly.

Similarly, my wife's work has kept her moving as of late. I don't know that I've ever mentioned this here but she's the assistant director for the Calhoun County Council On Aging. I will tell you that I know what she does for a living although I don't know a whole lot about what she does for a living, if you catch my drift. I hate to say that because it makes me out to be an inattentive idiot of a husband but I promise you I'm not. Our occupations really are extensions of our personalities. She's thinks with emotion, I think with logic. She works with people, I work with machines - go figure, right?

There are so many aspects of this process that can, have, and continue to blow my mind. Main among them is the speed with which entire lives can change. Case in point, with the sibling group, we were on vacation in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina when we were called about having been matched with them. We didn't have to rush back home because of it but the fact of the matter was that we suddenly had a choice to make: Play the hand you've been dealt or keep rolling the dice. Likewise, our lives changed in a flash again this past Tuesday when my wife received a call from our adoption worker that a baby had come into their custody and was in need of foster care.

My wife in turn called me - she didn't know if the baby had medical needs or if the child was a boy or a girl, black, white, Hispanic, or Kryptonian. All she knew was that a baby was being offered to us. I, of course, wanted to know more details. (I can't help it; I'm the one with the logistical brain, remember?) I didn't want to say no to the opportunity but at the same time I didn't want to immediately say yes and we wind up in another situation where we'd have bitten off more than we could chew seeing as how we've been down that road already.

Jill got more details on the situation and we talked again. The baby is male, Caucasian, roughly 6 pounds and 18.25" at birth, with no signs of defects or abnormalities. He is, for all intents and purposes, a perfectly healthy baby boy. The identity of the father is unknown. He came into the state's custody as a result of his birth mother having given a verbal relinquishment of custody, however there is a statute of limitations within which she can still claim him.

That last bit wrenched at my heart. Since he is a foster child, he could be with us for days, weeks, months, or forever. A child with circumstances like this is considered a high risk placement due to the fact that any number of biological family members could emerge and pursue custody, and that, in turn, can lead to legal entanglements. The notion that we might grow to love this child only to then have him leave us was so difficult to process. Nevertheless, we couldn't say no to this risk, this chance, this opportunity, this blessing. (As a humorous aside to this I'll say that after my wife & I spoke for the second time she said I had 10 minutes to decide whether or not I was okay with accepting the baby. Yep, 10 minutes. I can't take a shower in 10 minutes and she's expecting me to make a decision of this magnitude?)

After we'd made up our minds we contacted our adoption worker and began to make arrangements to pick up the child. Since our worker is located in Charleston we both assumed the baby was there. As it turned out he was only minutes away at a local hospital.

When we got to the hospital, we first had to figure out where we were going - we had a room number but no real idea of how to get there seeing as how neither of us knew a whole lot about the layout of the facility. We encountered a friendly member of the nursing staff who saw us wandering around and she directed us to exactly where we needed to be.

We met with several members of the neonatal nursing staff, a doctor, and a caseworker from DSS. Everyone kept addressing us as "the parents" or "Mom and Dad". (I've tried not to read too much into that, mind you, but you can't help but take impressions from the way people with more information than you about a given situation talk about that situation.) When you hear those words and aren't expecting them they have something of a sizzling effect on your psyche. It forces you to realize at that moment, if it hadn't already before then, that this is happening.

The doctor, a young woman who looked to have been in our age range, was very kind in her manner and took the time to go over a lot of answers to first-time parent questions without us ever asking them. The nursing staff were also very pleasant to work with. I have to say that seeing them handle the children in their care is like watching a skilled craftsman. Not to say they were twirling babies in the air while walking a tightrope, just that they clearly know what they're doing.

As part of the discharge process we had to watch a video on shaken baby syndrome and sign a batch of paperwork. Before we knew it, a loaned car seat was installed in the back of Jill's ride and we were on our way back home. The whole process took less than an hour.

I am in no way ashamed of saying that after Jill & I got him inside our house that I cried like men aren't supposed to admit to crying. I had accepted that I just wasn't going to get to have certain things in my life - in that moment, hope for those dreams returned.

Jill's Mom and Dad came to our house that evening and they brought with them a literal smorgasbord of stuff related to maintaining a baby that family & friends had given to them to share with us. (I've said it before and I'll say it again, we wouldn't be where we are without the support of loving, generous people. We've got some of the best family, friends, and co-workers imaginable!) I know my way around the realm of information technology but baby technology is a whole new ballgame for me, personally. I was introduced to several varieties of bassinets that either swing, rock, vibrate, or some combination thereof. I had heard the term Pack and Play previously but I'd never seen one - seemed kind of like a kennel for a child, but who's to argue with that logic? Also knew to me, the boppy pillow, which is a great example of what can happen when someone takes an existing product (the travelers neck pillow, in this instance), increases its size, and gives it a cute name. In addition to this, our kitchen is now overrun with baby bottles, cans of formula, and various accessories related to feeding. From the amount of bottles alone you'd think we had 5 babies instead of 1, however I'm quickly learning that bottles are much like .22 ammo - when you think you have enough, you don't.

The baby's biological mother did give him a name. We're not especially fond of it, so if or when we have the chance to change his name we already have one picked out. It's one of the names that Jill & I had talked about a while back when we were toying with ideas for baby names. I can't publish his real name because of the fact that we have to protect his identity, and I'm going to hold off on doing the same with the name we've given him until such time that it's appropriate. Don't worry, though, he's not going to have any identity issues because my Father in-law and I already came up with a nickname (or codename, as I've said to some people) for him - The Duke.

Feel free to read into that as you would like. And no, his name is not John Wayne. If it were that easy to figure out do you think I'd bother calling it a codename?

Back when we were still working with the sibling group, we had applied for a license to be foster parents. We did this in addition to being approved as adoptive parents because of the fact that it would have served as something of a contingency for that scenario due to timing of the proceedings. In hindsight we were fortunate in that we did apply for our foster license. Since they weren't ours, permanently speaking, we were able sever the relationship due to the disruption they had caused and have things end there. Not to make those children out to be horrors but I don't know what would've happened to us - my wife & I - had we not been on a foster to adopt path with them instead of straight adoption. That having been said, it is ironic that we finally received our foster license in the mail on the same day that we brought home The Duke.

At this point we (all three of us - well, four if you count our dog, Roddy) are settling in and adjusting to our new family dynamic. The waking up at night is what's going to take the most time to get used to, I do believe, but we'll get there. Interpreting his needs is an interesting thing to tackle; he's not a particularly fussy baby so when he does cry it genuinely means he's either hungry or in need of a fresh diaper. Jill took him to his first doctor's visit and it was recommended that we put him onto a soy-based formula as it seemed traditional mixes weren't staying with him long enough to get him the nutrition he needs. He checked out fine other than that and a little redness around his bottom for which the doctor prescribed an ointment.

Many people have asked if there are things that we need. At this point, I feel as though we're on good standing thanks to what has been donated to us (it seems as though almost everyone we know has gently used baby gear tucked away in storage somewhere), but we would never say no to things like diapers, wipes, or gift cards. Jill had the idea to suggest bringing a meal - fresh or frozen - for us wouldn't be a bad idea either.

Above all else I would ask that you pray for our family. Like I said earlier in this entry, we don't know how long this ride will last but we're going to take it for all it's worth. With God's will and love, we'll endure. I believe The Duke was sent to us for a reason - we're going to love him with all the affection we have because that's what he deserves.