Happy dot

The miracle of birth truly is a miracle to me.

How the tiniest of cells from a man can connect with equally tiny cells from a woman to form a dot that in a short time grows into a human boggles my mind. The fact it happens at all is awesome, but add in that modern medicine now makes the majority of these events safe is just as remarkable.


The fact it is an almost certainty the baby has 10 fingers and 10 toes is crazy, let alone those fingers and toes are splilt five on each hand and foot. So many insane twists and turns can happen in the development of a fetus, that most of us emerge relatively looking the same as everybody else is just as mind blowing.


I rarely thought about abortion before Amy got pregnant. If I did, I usually sided with the thought process that it is the mother's body and her choice. But almost as soon as I found out Amy was pregnant, my mind set changed. I started thinking about this tiny, miniscule, speck of a clump of cells that would sommehow, someway, someday grow into a child. Not just "a" child, but MY child.


When did that group of cells become my child? When did that group of cells gain a soul? When did that group of cells develop a personality?

If you ask a mother who has had multiple pregnancies, she will tell you each pregnancy is different. She will tell you each baby acted different in her womb.

I guess you can chalk that up to biochemistry of the pregnancy and the mother and other factors - she weighed differently, she ate differently, the weather was different, etc.

And a mother with multiple kids can also tell you each infant acted differently - one ate all the time, one cried all the time, one slept all the time.

Again, some biochemstry or outside influences may play a role in differences. But it is only a role, and not the reason.

It is hard to imagine the fetus, let alone the infant, acts different because it IS different. It already has a personality of sorts.

Of course I am happy Reese has 10 fingers and 10 toes and all are in the proper place, but the one thing I am most happy about with my daughter is her personality. Strangers in the supermarket come up to me and marvel at how happy she is. She is famous to checkout clerks around town with her high-pitched and welcoming, "Hi!"

Now some will say I had something to do with it, that Reese is happy because I am happy, her disposition reflects the happy home she lives in. I like that train of thought, but I don't put to much faith in it.

Reese has been happy since she was born.

Maybe even before she was born.

She was probably a happy little dot.

p.s.
Amy pointed out my post yesterday regarding addiction to Reese had some errors in it. First, she is a year-and-a-half-and-a-month old. That means 12 plus 6 plus 1, which is 19 months old. For some reason I said she was 17 months old. But 19 months is still about 550 days, and have seen her every single one of those days.
Also, I have had away football games north of Seattle and as far south as Medford, Oregon (Oregon/California border), which is much further away than wine country. My bad.

Addiction isn't so bad

I love my daughter.

Anyone who was spent even a fraction of time around me could deduce that fact in milliseconds.

But I am afraid I may be addicted to my daughter.

She is a little older than 17 months old, which is about 570 days. I have been with her all 550 days. The longest I have gone away from her has been about 12 hours. The furthest I have been away from her has been 50 miles (Amy and I went with a group of friends to some wineries in Oregon while we had a babysitter).

I don't know if that is a good thing.

Shouldn't I have some time away? Shouldn't my daughter have some time away? Is really healthy to do ANYTHING every day for a year-and-a-half? Doctors say you should even take a day off from exercising at least once a week and nutritionists suggest dieters have one "cheat" day.

I love the time I spend with her don't want to be away from her, but is that best for all parties involved?

I guess I should just be happy she is happy to be with me right now, because I know she will grow older and all of that will change. There will come a time when spending time with daddy will not be cool. There will come a time when her friends are more important than her daddy. There will come a time when the last person she would want to see will be her daddy.

So for now I need to make the most of every day and every minute I have with Reese, because I will go through withdrawals when it comes to an end. And hopefully that is many, many, MANY years from today.

Paradox of my psyche

Amy and I were watching a show where a trainer transforms one obese person in one year. The obese guy was in his mid-20s and weighed 700 pounds! He previously played high school football and had dreams and aspirations of playing in college and in the pros.

Don't we all?

As part of the transformation/show, the trainer had the guy practice with NFL Hall of Fame wide receiver Michael Irvin. Now if all you know about "The Playmaker," as he is sometimes referred to, is that he got busted for drugs and hookers, or perhaps that Eagle fans cheered when he broke his neck, that's OK. But even with all of his personal issues and how he rubbed opponents the wrong way, no one ever questioned Irvin's work ethic, heart or desire.

Irvin is a pretty intense guy and not afraid to "dress someone down," so to speak. He doesn't mind yelling at people or telling people they are not up to par. He had a reality show a few years back where he held auditions/boot camp for a roster spot with the Dallas Cowboys, and Irvin put those guys through some pretty grueling tasks.

So the show with the obese guy (he lost 150 pounds in 3 months and still weighed 500 pounds!) had Irvin putting James (that's the obese guy) through various drills. Nothing too dramatic. Just some one-on-one lineman drills. James missed some blocks and made some blocks, which is pretty standard in the world of tackle football linemen. Even Anthony Munoz allowed a sack from time to time. Anyway, after James was finished working out The Playmaker said he had heart, he had potential and if someone recognized that when he was in high school, James could have made a career out football. I scoffed at that statement, but basically chalked it up to making the subject of the show feel better about himself.

Later, it was revealed that the last time James weighed less than 400 pounds, he was a junior in high school. And then the trainer introduced him as a "former high school star football player."

I got mad.

Amy got mad at me for getting mad at the show. She didn't know why I was so upset about Michael Irvin saying James had potential to play college football and possibly even the pros and why I cared so much that they called him a "former high school football star."

I didn't tell Amy this, but it's because if James was a star and had potential to go a long way in football, that means he was/is better than me. And I just can't accept that.

I'm not saying that I was a high school football star. I wasn't. I didn't make any all-league selection. No first-team. No second-team. No honorable mention. I didn't play after high school. No junior college. No Division II. No Division III. Certainly no Division I.

But there is no way in God's Green Earth that James, who weighed 400 pounds as a junior in high school, had more potential than I did. There is no way that James, who played in the high-stakes high school football glory land of Texas, was a star while I, who played in talent-rich Southern California, was a nobody. I flatly refuse to believe it.

Now, I was good. I held my own. I even started in the California-Hawaii All Star Game. But I was no star and I know I had little, if any, potential to play further than I did. Granted, I am playing semi-pro football right now, but, again, I am not a star.

I have been watching the "Top 100 Players of 2011" on the NFL Network. They say there is an average of 3 players from each team on the list. And it had me thinking who the top 3 players on the Portland Raiders were and where I would rank on that list. There is no question I am not in the top 3. I seriously doubt I am in the top 10. And I can honestly tell you that James would not start ahead of me on this team. No chance. And if I went up against him, I would pummel him. Pummel him! He is a big dude and I may not be strong, but I know for a fact that I would win. Guaranteed.

I often go into a circular round of thought when it comes to my football playing abilities. I know I'm not very good. I know I have severe limitations. But I have confidence that I am better than you. How can that be? I do not know, but it happens all the time. I don't think I'm good enough to play semi-pro football, that I'm lucky to be on the team. But I think I should be an all-star.

That's the paradox of my psyche: I'm not very good, but I know I'm better than you!

How and why do I think that? Do I not have confidence? Or do I have too much confidence. Am I just being modest? Or am I just looking at reality? And which is the reality, the lucky-to-be-on-the-team or the all-star?

I don't know, but either way, I know I'm better than James.

Recharged and refocused? Inspired and interrested.

I have been inspired by my best friend and his wife. Dave and Jen (actually, just Jen) are writing a daily blog as part of an anniversary promise to each other. Amy has continually asked/told me to write daily, but I just have not done it. I don't know why. I could give you a million excuses, but that's all they would be: excuses. I love to write and it comes easily to me, so writing is not a chore. Not at all. In fact, it is quite cathartic for me. So, as of today, I promise to write an entry EVERY DAY for 365 days.

I don't know exactly what will come of this project, or who would want to read what may end up being nothing more than a digital diary, but it should be fun/interesting to go back and read what transpired the past year. I wonder what will happen between today and June 21, 2012? I look forward to seeing my daughter's development the most. What words will she know? What skills will grow? She already seems to do something new every day as it is, so 365 days from now should be exciting!

A little overdue

Er...apparently we have not been diligent in updating our site. I believe most people, however, have been following our family news via Facebook (or at least looking at daily pictures of Reese).


It looks like the last time anything was posted was when she was one month old. Hard to believe that was one full year ago.


I can still remember when she couldn't roll over from her stomach to her back. Now she is climbing the stairs like she's Sir Edmund Hillary. I remember when I had to hold the bottle of formula (only 4 ounces and didn't even know why they made an 8 ounce bottle!) for her to drink. Now she is feeding herself French Toast, mashed potatoes, guacamole, chicken, and basically whatever Amy and I are eating. I remember thinking 6-month old clothes looked huge and she would never fit in to them. Now we are scrambling to keep her closet up to date with correct size.

Needless to say Reese and her development has taken up the majority of our attention in 2010, but other things have in fact happened in our lives.

Amy has a new role at her company. She moved from an investment counselor to a research portfolio analyst. I describe it as moving from being a waiter to becoming a personal nutritionist. It's an oversimplification, but it is somewhat rue. As an IC, she dealt with clients already with the company and worked with their needs and requests. Now she advises potential clients about what she and the company feel is the best strategy for the client to reach his or her goals.

Rick left the web producer role with the Portland CBS affiliate to stay at home with Reese. While we both really liked having Reese at the daycare, having her at home is best for everyone.

Hopefully this site will be updated on a more regular basis in the future!

One Month Old

It’s hard to believe, but Reese is more than one month old already.

She is growing every day.

It seems like she is doing something new that she wasn’t able to do the day before. She is able to focus on the person holding her, now. Before, she would look past you or over your shoulder or at your forehead. Now, it’s right in your eyes. Also, she is able to track a toy across her vision. It may not be totally smooth yet, but she will pick up the object sooner or later.

She is holding her head more and more every day. It seems like she always had a little bit of head control (not a lot, but a little), but you can tell it is definitely getting stronger.

I’m pretty sure she went through a growth spurt the past 3 to 5 days because she was eating more and more frequently as well. Newborn clothes are *just* a little tight, but 0-3 months clothes are *just* a little too big. So she is wearing the baggy 1-3 month stuff.

Her four week checkup was on Dec. 14. She was 22 and one-quarter inches long and 9 pounds 8 ounces. At her two week checkup (Nov. 30), she was 21 and three-quarter inches long and 8 pounds 14 ounces. At birth (Nov. 16), she was 21 inches and 8 pounds 7.3 ounces. All of this is to say she is grown at a health rate.

She was sleeping at pretty decent clips the first three weeks or more, able to go 4 hours (sometimes 5 hours) through night. The past four days or so, she has been very regular in getting hungry every three hours. Last night (Dec. 18 night/Dec. 19 morning), though, she slept six hours! We are hoping we can get her to do that again!

Reese likes to be held and then have that person dance with her. She also likes when someone sings to her. My favorite artists to sing to her are Tribe Called Quest and Sublime. I particularly enjoy making up songs, such as “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” “Reese’s Pieces,” and “All I want for Christmas is your Two Elbows.”

A funny thing, I *really* enjoy picking out her outfit for the day. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m a big fashion expert or anything and I never played with dolls when I was a kid (unless G.I. Joes count). Amy thinks it’s cute.

Reese’s next checkup is the two month checkup where she gets some vaccination shots. Ouch! Not really looking forward to that, because she will probably have tears by then.

She is still a fairly mellow baby. She doesn’t cry a whole lot, only when she is hungry or when her stomach hurts (gas, indigestion, bowel movement, etc.). She doesn’t get too cranky when she’s tired and she doesn’t really care if she’s dirty.

There was one time, however, that she did cry. And it was all daddy’s fault. Amy and I were attempting to cut her fingernails, and I clipped her thumb, and not her thumbnail. Both baby and daddy cried after that. Mommy took care of everything. New rule: file nails only.

We wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Rick, Amy and Reese (and Ripken, too!)

Theresa Elizabeth Devereux

Amy started feeling contractions around 9:20, Sunday morning the 15th, which was three days past the original Nov. 12 due date.

We decided to drop Ripken off with the dogsitter Christina at LexiDog just to be safe. Amy thought we were being overly cautious. I was sure we were going to have a baby soon.

We had breakfast (more like brunch since it was noon) at Isabel's, then went to Pioneer Square to drop off gifts and clothes we had bought before. I was disappointed I was missing the Chargers/Eagles game, but at least it was on the radio.

Amy's contractions were irregular for most of the day - sometimes 20 minutes apart, sometimes 15, sometimes 30, sometimes 5.

While we drove home, the contractions became much more regular, almost always 5 minutes apart. Starting at about 2:55 the contractions were occurring in 5 minute intervals, but they never lasted long, maybe 30 seconds at most for each. We knew the time to go to the hospital was 5-1-1, when the contractions were FIVE minutes apart lasting for ONE minute each over ONE hour.

Amy said the contractions were about a 4, usually a 3 out 10 on the pain scale, but things changed just after 4:45. When Amy had a contraction at 4:47, she said it jumped to a 6 out of 10. They also started lasting a little longer, about 45 to 60 seconds each, and were almost always 5 minutes apart.

We were out the door and headed to the hospital by 5:10. We checked into the hospital at 5:40.

The nurses immediately checked Amy's cervix (well, not IMMEDIATELY; the staff was nice enough to put us in a room first). They said she was 80 percent effaced and 1 cm dilated. Amy and I were still unsure if they would admit us or send us back home, which we had heard is not an uncommon thing with a first pregnancy.

The nurses wanted Amy to progress a little more, so they sent us for a walk to help the baby drop more and open up the cervix. At 8:30, the nurse checked Amy again, and this time she was 2 cm dilated, but still 80 percent effaced.

Dr. Susan Slayton-Meyers, the on-call doctor Sunday night and Monday morning, came in at 9 p.m. to check Amy. She said Amy was 3 cm and 90 percent, and that we weren't leaving without a baby. We were officially admitted! The good doctor also predicted the baby would come within 13 hours, meaning Reese would be born before 10 Monday morning.

Amy wanted an epidural, but was told it would be best to wait until she was 4 cm dilated. Considering we went from 1 cm to 3 cm in about three hours and were also told the baby was coming by morning as well as she would probably dilate about 1 cm per hour, Amy thought she would be at 4 cm soon and decided to wait to get to 4 cm.

The wait took a bit longer than expected.

Amy took another walk around the unit, then she sat in the jacuzzi tub in her room (yes, they had jacuzzi tubs in the bathrooms!). She did both for about an hour each.

I was getting hungry (it was just after midnight and we hadn't eaten since grabbing a quick snack at home before heading into the hospital), but the cafeteria was closed, so I went back to the room and rested. Amy told the RN that I was "starving" (which was not true), so the nurse brought me a yogurt as well as a truck-stop/gas-station type of turkey on wheat.

The nurse checked Amy again at 1:22 in the morning and said she was at 3.5, but still 90 percent. In order for her to get more dilated but still stay comfortable, Amy sat in the jacuzzi tub for another hour.

In order to speed up the process a bit, they put Amy on small doses of pitocin. Pitocin made the contractions more intense and closer together. Amy woke me up at 3:45 because she was in pain and alone. I felt horrible. In her time of need, the moment when she was in pain and needed her husband, here I was on a crappy hospital couch in the fetal position snoring. Not exactly husband-of-the-year material.

They checked Amy again at 5 and she was still 90 percent effacing, but not quite at 4 cm. Amy had had a long and painful night. She had asked for an epidural 8 hours before at 9 on Sunday night; she was the one who was hungry since she wasn't allowed to eat anything (at least I had the yogurt and vending machine sandwich, all the nurses could give Amy was red jello and ice water); she had been awake for 21 hour straight.

And the one thing she wanted more than anything, an epidural, still looked like it was out of her reach.

The nurse could see Amy's frustration and pain and fatigue, so she called the anesthesiologist and said Amy was at 4 cm so she could finally get an epidural after her 8-hour wait.

Yet, Amy had to wait just a little bit longer.

There was an emergency C-section being performed in the operating room, so the anesthesiologist couldn't get to Amy for another quarter of an hour. Everyone said the anesthesiologist was the most-liked person on the maternity ward, but I have a feeling it has more to do with his drugs than his personality (even though he was a nice guy).

It took about 15 to 20 minutes for the epidural to kick in, but once the drugs did kick in, things were great. Amy had contractions, she just couldn't feel them, which is what we wanted from the get-go. The great thing about the epidural is it allows the woman's body to contract and push the baby down slowly, saving the baby and momma stress and pain. That whole process of gradually letting the mother's body push the baby down is called laboring down. It played a huge part later when Amy had to push Reese out.

The nurse checked Amy's cervix a little after 6 in the morning, and she was closer to 4 cm than before, and maybe even more effaced than before, too. I may be deceiving myself, but I really do think I could take the pain of having a baby. I do not, however, think I could take having people introduce themselves to me while my legs were up in the air like how it happens during labor.

Amy was able to get some rest after 6:30 when the epidural really kicked in and the pain was gone. She needed that rest, too. In fact, we both "slept" until 9:30. It was not a deep three hours of sleep, more like the type of closed-eyed breathing you do on a long airplane flight. Still, it was much welcomed.

Doris Hutchinson, Amy's OB-GYN, came in and checked Amy out. She said Amy was at 4 cm and 90 percent, which was actually disappointing considering there was an off-chance Reese would have been born by that time according to the on-call doctor. Doris broke Amy's water and then said she "made" Amy 5 cm.

Breaking Amy's water promised to speed up the process, but there was meconium in the water. Meconium is an infant's stool, and the fact that she was swimming around in it in the uterus was a good sign her stomach and intestines were working well, but it was not safe she was in the water with her own poop. We were told physicians from the hospital's Neonatal Intensive Care Unit would be at the birth to make sure Reese didn't inhale any of the meconium.

Amy slept a little more, so I went down to the cafeteria for some bad coffee and an average breakfast burrito. I only wanted to be gone for about an hour, but it was closer to an hour and a half to two hours before I came back. I had about a zillion phone messages and about a zillion people I had to give updates to.

When I got back to the room around 11:45, Amy was awake and the nurse was setting up all kinds of instruments on a tray. My eyes were obviously dinner plates because Amy laughed and told me I hadn't missed anything and that the nurse was just getting ahead of the curve by making sure everything was ready "just in case."

Around 12:20 another nurse came in and said Amy was at 8 or 9 cm dilated! I thought it was pretty fast, but if you calculate out from 9 in the morning to a little after noon, it's one centimeter per hour, which is what the doctors and nurses had wanted and predicted about 12 hours before!

Amy tried to get as much rest as possible, wanting to let her body get into position until it was time to push.

When the nurse checked her at 2:30, she was 10 cm and 100 percent effaced. I really thought it was going to be go time by 3:30, but that was not the case. We both slept until 3:40. Amy woke me up asking for some ice chips. I gave them to her then went into the bathroom quickly. I came out less than 30 seconds later and Amy was sitting up, the nurse by her side, and spitting into a plastic bag. I was surprised because I hadn't heard anything at all.

We knew that labor pains could cause nausea, and Amy thinks the added doses of the epidural also contributed to her nausea, so I wasn't overly concerned.

Then about a dozen people rushed into the room, all looking very serious with a very determined job to do. No one told me what was going on, so I started to get extremely worried. Amy, however, was completely calm. I kept shuffling backwards to try to get out of the way as nurses and doctors hurriedly did their job.

What happened was Amy sat up to eat the ice chips as well as to turn over to her other side. We think that movement caused her stomach issues, but it also made Reese squeeze her umbilical cord causing her heart rate to plummet. She usually had a heart beat between 130 and 150 beats per minute. Hers dropped to 80 or 90. The nurse pushed the 'emergency' button in the room, which signaled all hands on deck. While it was scary to see all of the medical personnel intensely focused, it was also reassuring to know that we had such quality care so quickly. Everything went back to normal in about 5 or 10 minutes.

Doris showed up after the drama (there was an on-site doctor at hand during Reese's crash in case Amy needed to go into an operating room right away). Amy wanted another epidural booster, but she wanted to give a 'practice push' first at 4:21. Amy tried once and then decided to wait for the drugs to kick in.

Doris, the nurse, Amy and I were just kind of hanging out in the room for a bit, then Amy said she wanted to try to push again.

That was 4:55.

Amy was an absolute rock star and Reese was born less than an hour later.

At 5:51, Theresa Elizabeth Devereux was born. She was 21 inches long, 8 pounds, 7.3 ounces, with long eyelashes and a full head of dark hair.

Here's a link to an album of photos of the most beautiful little girl in the world. Not that we're biased or anything:

http://www.kodakgallery.com/gallery/creativeapps/slideShow/Main.jsp?token=624262645805%3A156506452&cm_mmc=site_email-_-new_site_share-_-core-_-View_photos_link