Baby Story, Part 2: Delivery

Soon after Eric relayed the news to our family, he had a voicemail from his parents -- if we wanted to get ahold of them, we should try the cell phone. It was no mystery to us that they were on their way to Indiana. My older sister would fly in that night as well.

I don't remember if Eric had called them or whether they had arrived unawares (I suspect the former), but the couple in charge of the high-school group at church where we volunteer showed up. The neonatalogist had stopped by again, this time to spin the positives of a 24-week-old baby; the day before had been more gloom. As he prepared to head to surgery and await the arrival of our child, he asked if he could pray with us, so the five of us had a short prayer.

I was prepped for surgery and taken to the operating room.

The anesthesiologist was prepared to give me my spinal. Apparently it was difficult for him to find the exact center of my spine where he needed to inject, so for each of the four shots, he would press the needle tip to my back and ask, "Do you think this is in the middle, left, or right?" Only if I answered middle would he proceed with the injection. I must have done okay, since I was appropriately numb for surgery, although the last one was so incredibly painful. I don't think it came to tears, but there was much grimacing taking place.

Eric was then brought into the room, and the surgery began. We knew this was a tenuous time. She was so small at this stage, the brink of viability. The doctor had said depending on our daughter's condition, they may have to rush her to the NICU, so we shouldn't be concerned if we didn't get to see her. Also, with the likelihood that she would need assistance breathing, he also informed us that we may not hear a cry because of the obstruction, so we shouldn't be concerned.

Our little daughter was born at nineteen ounces and 11 3/4 inches long at 10:06 AM. The sound of her newborn cries was one of the most welcoming sounds I've ever heard, and I promptly dissolved into tears. For me, even as I had begun showing and feeling little slight movements, there was much that still felt surreal and none of this was supposed to happen until December, so the frail sounds of our daughter, while proving that she had some developed lungs, also reinforced the fact that life would now be different since we were suddenly parents, an event we had been anticipating.

Apgar scores were 6 for the one-minute check and 8 for the five-minute one. Eric had the camera ready and spent his time taking pictures of our little girl and watching over me. I had to laugh when on one of his returns, he caught a glimpse of the other side of the sheet as they were stitching me up, and only with some deep breaths was he able to regain composure.

Our daughter was doing well enough that when it was time to head to the NICU, they took the time to wheel her next to me and pause for a couple minutes. She was so tiny but entirely whole. I was even amazed to see some black hair already on her tiny head. There was no extra flesh on her, as that was to have come in the remaining weeks, but every little bit of her was perfect.


We didn't have a girl's name selected yet, but as I wheeled to surgery, in my mind I knew we would have to name our little girl Grace, although I hadn't yet shared my decision with Eric yet; after her birth, Eric himself would volunteer that same name. We would later learn that more than one relative was thinking of and praying for our daughter, even before she was formally named, as Baby Grace. We felt we really had no option -- when a baby is given a chance at life at only 24 weeks and at such a tiny size, every minute we had with her was due to the grace of God.

One of the nurses shared with me that the surgery was done at the right time; our daughter had expelled meconium in the womb, which meant she was beginning to show signs of stress. With everything that would happen later, this was a consolation to remember. Had the surgery been delayed, the outcome could have been more sobering, and although I certainly wouldn't have wished for her to come so early, I needn't spend energy blaming a doctor for rushing me to surgery unnecessarily or prematurely, as it was done at the proper time.

Over the next few days, doctors and nurses alike encouraged us by repeatedly stating we had one leg up because we had a girl; apparently girls in the NICU fare better than boys. I had no idea what to expect or when to be optimistic. I didn't have the heart to ask the size of the smallest baby in the NICU in recent history (or the outcome), but Eric's parents did ask the first part, and the answer was nine ounces. At 24 weeks, she was at the cusp of viability, so we tried not to think too far ahead and take each day as it arrived.

I think I'll include some of Eric's updates from time to time, since my memory is faulty due to the painkillers I was on and just the monotony of the days following, so his timeline can help ground these posts. Any indented text on these posts can be credited to him:

We've been out of the operating room for about an hour. Faith is doing very well; her blood pressure started dropping (plummeting, really) during surgery and is now about down to normal. Her pulse has also stabilized, and the nurses think that her swelling is starting to go down as well. The only symptom that hasn't gone away yet is her blurred vision; she's still not seeing clearly out of her left eye. The nurses hope that will recede shortly.

As far as our daughter, she entered the world at 10:06, weighing all of 19 ounces. We haven't been able to see her since she left the OR--they're doing a number of procedures on her in the premature baby ward--but I've been told that she is doing very well. It'll be a long road with lots of hills and valleys before she'll be able to leave the hospital, but it appears that the start of that journey has been promising. Right now all we can do is hope and pray that she continues to grow and mature as she should, and that she doesn't fall prey to infection, heart problems, brain problems, or any of the dozens of things that could overcome her this early.

Her name is still forthcoming; we thought we would have a few more weeks to settle on a girl's name.

I was taken back to my room as Eric checked out the NICU, and they placed me on magnesium for 24 hours. This was due to my preeclampsia and to ward off any potential seizures, which is what could happen if my condition worsened to eclampsia.

Unfortunately, this would compound my vision problems, as it caused blurriness in my right eye as well (side effect). I had already been infrequent with wearing my glasses, and this made them useless. My right eye had about half that was blurry, and my left evolved during my time in the hospital. At one point, without my glasses I could see clearly from the middle of my left eye (TV from across the room, for instance), and on the peripheral, it was all blurry, like trying to see in a pool with water swirling across.

Next post: Continued Hospitalization and Saying Goodbye

Baby Story, Part 1: Admittance to Hospital

A lot has happened since I last posted. While I suspect those who read this blog are aware of the changes, I thought I'd use it as catharsis and document the recent events. Since I'm wordy, it may take several installments.

Since I last wrote, Eric and I took a trip to Iowa to visit our families. On Sunday, August 17, Eric's family hosted a baby shower for me. I had been experiencing some swelling in my feet and ankles, and while I had been monitoring the situation, I wasn't too concerned since it seemed to coincide with the humidity, and as the temperatures dropped, the swelling receded. On Monday, however, for our drive back, I did my best to walk at every opportunity.

Tuesday morning, I noticed swelling in my face. I prepared for work, waiting for Eric to say something about it (I'd once warned him about such swelling, to alert me to it if I suddenly swelled up). On our way to work, he still hadn't said anything, so I asked him if my face looked swollen to him. He responded with, "That's it! I knew something was different, but my first thought was that you had put makeup on this morning, so I didn't want to say anything." Eric is adverse to makeup as a general rule, so he thought he'd keep his mouth shut if his hormonal wife needed to put on some for returning to work.

As soon as I arrived at work, I called my doctor's office and explained the situation. It took them two hours to contact the doctor on call and get back to me, but then they asked me to come in. I left my work computer on, hoping I would soon be back at my station, and Eric and I went to the office.

My blood pressure was normal, and the diastolic number was even lower than normal. However, there was protein found in my urine sample, I had started having some white spots in my left eye, and the swelling was a concern as well, so I was going to be in the hospital overnight for observation. Furthermore, since my appointment two weeks earlier, my weight had increased something like sixteen pounds, and I certainly hadn't been eating any more than normal to explain the sudden gain, mostly from water retention. As Eric drove, I called my boss to explain the situation.

At the hospital, I was making a list of what Eric could bring me for the overnight, including my laptop to monitor work email and stay involved in life in general and thank-you cards for the baby shower gifts.

I was to undergo a 24-hour urine collection and have another ultrasound. I felt silly being taken down to the ultrasound in a wheelchair, but I assumed it was regulation. This third abdominal ultrasound did reveal that we would be having a girl. At one point, the blood flow to our daughter was constricted, but later upon a more thorough monitoring, it had regulated, so the assumption was made that she had been laying on the umbilical cord.

Once I arrived at the hospital, my blood pressure soared. I wrote most of it off to nerves, as I felt uneasy being admitted so early. I suspected it would go down once I would be able to get to sleep and my mind stopped racing. I composed a couple messages to work, explaining where I had been in my preparations for the upcoming new-student orientation.

I told Eric there was no need to spend the night with me that first night, as I figured it would be pretty straightforward and uneventful and the chair available to him looked anything but comfortable. I was put on blood pressure medication, and before bed I was given a dose of Ambien. I was told it wouldn't be enough to make me fall asleep, but once out, it would help me have a deep sleep.

Ambien has been known to have some interesting side effects on a small population taking it. Apparently I am one of that number. When I awoke needing to go to the bathroom, I was quite disoriented and it took much internal coaching to remember where to go. I threw up three times, and each time I was so foggy as to how to react. I was able to find my remote for calling the nurses, and I had to stare at it repeatedly before I could decide on the proper button to push (for those of you unfamiliar with them, there are two buttons for turning on lights and another, with the picture of a nurse, for contacting the nurses' station).

Then when the nurses would come and help me get cleaned up, they asked me to stand up and walk to the bathroom. And then, when I seemed unable to respond, they helped me up and said, "Okay, now walk straight." When I would react by walking elsewhere, they came back with, "Here, we'll just push you in the right direction." Once in the bathroom, I knew I needed to wash my hands and somewhere I would find water and soap. I really had to be shown how to do everything. In my mind, I could hear what was being said, or think about what action I wanted to take, but it took such a long time for me to communicate to my hands or legs ("Now I need to dry my hands. Somewhere I should find a towel hanging up. Where is it? What do I do when I find it? I should pick it up. Hands, do you see that towel hanging up right in front of you? You do? Now pick it up. ..go ahead...pick it up, already. Okay, now dry your hands. You know, wipe each hand on the towel until the moisture is gone. Hmm, let's try this again.").

Eric saw me at breakfast the next morning, where I was still groggy. I would try to wipe my mouth after eating, and would promptly drop my napkin directly into my plate of biscuits and gravy, which I was still working on. After repeated bemused suggestions ("No, Faith, don't put the napkin in your food" and the like), he finally took over and fed me.

Several nights after, I would be asked if I wanted Ambien (the first night I wasn't given the option to refuse). I declined every time, explaining that it had made me loopy. The first nurse I told responded with, "That was YOU?! Not that we're gossiping, but it was such an unusual reaction! You only had 5 mg, and we normally give 10 mg without batting an eye!"

So now it was Wednesday, August 20. My blood pressure had lowered, but my left eye had gone from having spots I could blink away to a more constant blurriness. I had some visitors throughout the day -- the knitting crew stopped by, as well as a professor from work who had gone through a similar situation a year earlier with her pregnancy. She was hospitalized the first time at 24 weeks, and finally the third hospitalization around 32 weeks resulted in an early delivery to a healthy baby girl. She brought some resources and answered all of our questions. In my mind, this was what was in store for us, and I figured after everything was regulated, I would be sent home for a time to wait things out.

We were being told our baby would be premature, it was just a matter of how premature she would be. In preparation, a doctor who specialized in high-risk pregnancies ran another, more sensitive ultrasound this day, and we met with a doctor in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU); he explained what having a baby at 24 weeks would be like. Admittedly I thought this was premature, as I still thought everything would hold off.

I was given another steroid shot to hasten fetal development. Eric read in a preemie book that each shot can be the equivalent of one gestational week of development, and they had given me my first the day before.

After the professor left Wednesday night, my blood pressure was elevated again. I wondered if it was a temporary rise, due to the discussion we had been having, but I did ask Eric to stay with me overnight. Given my first night of confusion, I was pretty tired and slept through most of the night even with the interruptions for medication, but Eric said there were a couple blood-pressure readings that were elevated to a frightening level (one was something like 200 over 140).

Early Thursday, August 21, around 5 AM, I was pretty hungry. I am naturally more of a grazer, and my unfinished meal from the night before at 7 PM seemed far removed. The nurses found me a bowl of cereal since the kitchen wasn't open for room service yet. I had most of it. This morning they also checked my weight again. It had increased around 8 pounds since 48 hours earlier. I saw pictures of myself from this day, and I don't look at all healthy. My face, and presumably the rest of me, was quite swollen.

Around 7:30 AM, my doctor came in to let me know it was time to deliver given the status of my early-onset pre-eclampsia. The results from my urine monitoring had something like 8 grams of protein (a normal level is something like 150 mg/day), and I wasn't expelling as I ought to have been (see: insensible weight gain). He was explaining the surgery I was about to have and the incision. The anesthesiologist also met with me, and here the consumption of cereal was revealed. I wasn't going to have a sedative for the surgery because of it, but I would still have the spinal.

Eric called his parents as well as my dad. My dad had returned from the Czech Republic the night before. He hadn't yet read the email Eric sent to him letting him know of my hospitalization, and due to his jet lag, he was disoriented on the phone. Eric, after relaying his name, even had to tell him who he was ("your son-in-law"). He soon came to when Eric brought him up to date.

Next post: Delivery.

Abdominal Ultrasound #2

My due date is four months from today. Hard to believe we're over halfway there.

I have been fighting a cold this week, and there were three nights in a row of miserable sleep. Night 1: Miserable sore throat. Night 2: Miserable runny nose. Night 3: Miserable cough. I checked with my doctor to see what I could take to relieve some of my symptoms, so when I went in Thursday for my monthly appointment, it had been after two miserable nights of sleep and a day on Sudafed.

My blood pressure was a little elevated, possibly explained away by the medicine, but I am going back in a couple weeks to verify that it is due to that instead of due to the pregnancy. That, combined with my uterus measuring slightly small for my dates, found me back in the doctor's office Friday for another ultrasound.

The technician scoffed at the doctor's concern, as my baby was measuring just fine, within three days of the due date; as she said, "He's trying to measure your uterus with a tape measure from outside your body, and he's worried you're off a couple centimeters?" But we did get another chance to see our little one, now at about 15 ounces.

At one point I caused Eric and the technician to explode in laughter at my expense. She had been measuring the baby's heart, head, and other areas, when I heard her say, "And here's the finger." As it was measuring several centimeters, I suddenly said, "Oh my gosh, that finger's HUGE!"

Eric corrected, "Honey, she said FEMUR." Um, yeah. I'm glad I can say that my child does not have ET's hands. I'd like to add my ears have been plugged, and it was probably distorted coming through the fog that is my head cold.

We wondered if we could find out the sex, and while our tech tried, our baby would have none of it. Her thoughts were that a child modest for two ultrasounds is likely to be a girl -- apparently boys have trouble keeping it to themselves. Although at one point, the hand was between the legs, and that made her question her assessment ("unless she's holding the umbilical cord and it happened to go down there"). So she said, with less than sixty percent confidence, a girl. I'm wondering if I should tempt fate and knit a girly sweater or a sun dress once I finish with my gender-neutral sweater.

Boy or Girl?

Yesterday was the day for our ultrasound. It was pretty amazing to see the beating heart with its chambers, and the brain, spinal cord, and the tiny fingers and toes of our child. Our little one is about nine ounces right now, and apparently everything is within one day of my due date, however reliable that is.

I'm just getting to the point where I'm feeling little flutters from our baby and my belly is extending, but since I've felt so well throughout my pregnancy, it's still somewhat surreal. It's hard to believe that I'm basically halfway through, so seeing the pictures is helping reinforce what's happening inside me.

When it came time to try to determine the sex, the technician ran into some trouble. Our little one, while squirming around inside me throughout, kept the legs together when we were trying to figure out whether we had a boy or girl inside. All the jiggling and jostling to get baby to be more cooperative was for naught. So finally our technician thought, if she had to guess, she would say girl, but she wasn't confident enough to put it in our report based on a side angle that was indeterminate. That said, we are moving forward thinking it's possible, and will likely refer to our child as 'she' unless we're proven otherwise. We figure if we're proven wrong we won't scar our child too much by referring to the baby with the wrong pronoun for a few months.

As Eric the philosopher concluded, we departed the ultrasound with "absence of evidence, not evidence of absence."

I'm Still Around, Just Not Apparently Blogging

Life has kept us busy. Eric's taking a medieval Latin class that keeps him more than occupied, and my ceramics class continues apace. While we're enjoying our respective pursuits, I think I speak for both of us when I say we're looking forward for our classes to end at the end of the month. They've certainly made my summer fly by, and I anticipate having the choice to decide what to do with my evenings again.

For our fifth anniversary last weekend, we went to Chicago. We filled our day with Taste of Chicago (good idea to give constant food to the pregnant lady) and the Field Museum.

At last week's doctor appointment, I was told I could schedule my ultrasound anytime before my next appointment in early August, so naturally I chose the earliest time, which is this Wednesday morning at 8:30 AM. We're really hoping to learn the sex, and Eric's hoping we will be told it's a boy since that would get us off the hook for baby names. If we have a son, we're set. Girl names, however, continue to stump us.

Physically, even though my weight is basically unchanged at this stage, I've noticed my belly is really starting to pop out. Yesterday Eric and I helped chaperone a day at the beach with the high-school students in our church's youth group. I wore a light maternity shirt and maternity shorts that a friend had given me, and they really emphasized the belly. Primarily due to my clothing, I had my first "spotted in the wild" experience. I was standing at the end of a long line for the restrooms, and someone checked the male restroom for occupancy, claiming, "It would be a shame to make a pregnant lady stand in line if she didn't have to." So I appear to have crossed the threshold of "maybe she's just put on weight" to "she's carrying a child," enough that a stranger had no qualms making the comment.

I'll try to not be such a stranger online. I should have a quick update after Wednesday's ultrasound, and as further baby updates come up, I will do my best to blog -- the odds are better after this month is done.

Family, Class, and Socks

It's been a busy few weeks.

Last weekend, two of my sisters and my maternal grandmother decided to surprise me for a visit. It was kept from me until they had some car trouble in Chicago. Their stories in what it took to arrive here were pretty amusing. I personally enjoyed Heather and Charity playing Cranium Jr. in the tow truck on their way here, much to the amusement of the driver ("Can you spell 'watermelon' backwards without writing it down?", "Act out 'slow motion.'"). The time went too quickly, but I was so glad to have them here. We were able to have some good food together, as well as Guitar Hero face-offs and while I was at work, the others took a tour of the Chocolate Factory.

Then this past week my ceramics class began. I'm taking it through the university. My schedule consists of work during the day, heading home long enough for a short nap and a quick meal, then going to class for a couple hours. It's nearly bedtime when I arrive home. In spite of the busy week, I'm enjoying it and am looking forward to my finished projects. We're working on coil vases right now, to be followed by a few weeks on the wheel.

In baby news, everything's still progressing as expected. I tend to tire more easily, and I can see the physical changes, but to the regular person, I haven't started showing. While visiting the friends in Minnesota a year ago, Kristy casually mentioned that her shoe size changed because of pregnancy. When I was shocked, she scoffed, "Oh, come on, Faith. Everything grows."

In my naivete, I thought I would be spared this until the third trimester. Come to learn that summer temperatures can exacerbate the swelling, however. So imagine my surprise a week ago when, looking for shoes to wear, I half-heartedly considered a pair of simple dress shoes I purchased a couple years ago that have always been a little too roomy for my taste. I needed to be reminded of how loose they were, and when I slipped them on, they were plenty snug and fit perfectly. That was a blow to my pride. While I realize I can't escape inevitable swelling or shoe-size changes, I was pleased this immediate swelling dissipated as the temperatures eased.

In the knitting sphere, Friday night I went to hear the Yarn Harlot in Oak Lawn, Illinois with Sandy. We left South Bend around 4:30 and returned home just before midnight. In between, we had some knitting as we heard her speak, then she signed her new book.


Since she often has a gallery of people showing off their first socks (in the above photo, we are holding her in-progress sock), I dug out my sock of shame, surprised I haven't yet unraveled it, and I brought it along. It was what taught me about the importance of gauge. To give you an idea, it would only work for me if I had a cast on my foot. Eric actually slipped it on, though, and other than being roomy in the ankle, it turned out that it fit him pretty well as a house sock. If you need to see my failure, scroll down here and look for one of the thumbnails. In my defense, I learned about starting with appropriate sock yarn and fastidiously checked my gauge for future attempts.

Finally, yesterday I went to Kayleigh's wedding.


I've only known her for a couple months, but I've had some fun conversations with her during our weekly knitting group and I was glad I got to share in their special day. It was a lovely wedding and they were both so cute (I can't say they're the cutest couple, since Eric and I sewed that up almost five years ago, but I can see I need to watch this competition).

The News Is Out...

Eric and I are expecting a baby around December 9th!

Our immediate families have known nearly as long as we have, and some friends have known for a few weeks, but just Tuesday I shared it with my office colleagues, and yesterday, after trying to nail down my elusive boss several times, I was finally able to catch him at 4:55 PM. Now I can widely share via the Internet.

With my first trimester essentially over, I have felt especially blessed. I have seen many friends and some family members go through pregnancy, and most of them had a rough beginning three months. I have had some olfactory responses that can send me running, but not on a regular, predictable basis, maybe once a week. In fact, the worst part was the week I had a touch of the flu. It's no fun to be sick to begin with, and when you add a pregnancy to the mix, not eating makes me pretty miserable. I have been more tired, however, and my after-work power naps have gone from 10-15 minutes to around 30 minutes in duration.

My sister Hope, mother of three, finds this a sad state of injustice, but it appears I lucked out with my mother's genes; it sounds like her pregnancies were similar. No wonder she went through five!

One amusing story. Eric's professor was holding a class reunion about two weeks after the
end of the semester (I think he took a page from my dad's book, who on his Czech English-teaching trips, holds reunions with the students about two days after classes finish).

Anyway, this professor enjoys his alcohol. When we arrived at his home, he asked, "What can I get you to drink? Beer? White or red wine? Pimm's?"

After some pushing, I admitted that I was pregnant, and he backed down. As he scrounged up some Sprite, he admitted his first response was, "Well, then, what the hell are you going to drink?"

Washington, D.C. in Five Days

Eric and I decided to take a vacation, just the two of us, to Washington, D.C. We realized it had been years since we had taken such a trip, and felt that it was overdue. Since we've made that decision, we're desperately trying to make up for lost time and make the most of our location -- in addition to D.C., we took last week's trip to Chicago and have another one planned for July.

We returned late in the evening yesterday. Since you are not a captive audience, I'll spare those of you who don't want the full details and photos and sum up our trip here: we walked way too many hours every day, I have never been through so many metal detectors, and we crammed a lot of the traditional sights into our itinerary. In short, we enjoyed ourselves.

Here's a whirlwind recap.

Day 1 - Thursday
Wake up around 4:30 AM, head to the airport. I brought size 13 metal knitting needles through security to work on a scarf with nary a second glance (I've taken small sock needles through before, but these are as thick as my thumb).

After a layover, which contained a nice breakfast in the Detroit airport, we took a train and then a taxi to our hotel, located near the Capitol.

Walk to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing for our tour. I wasn't allowed to take any photos during the tour, but here's a fun photo of a $500,000,000 certificate from way back.


Explore the National Mall for several hours, take many pictures and walking breaks. Gain a couple blisters. My favorite memorial is the one dedicated to FDR. They had four sprawling 'rooms,' one for each of his terms. I apologize for the difficulty in reading the quotation; the sun didn't cooperate.


Eat dinner at the hotel restaurant around 9 PM. Way overpriced for negligible quality.

Day 2 - Friday
Take a tour of the Capitol. Stand in a security line for about 40 minutes with all the schoolchildren in town. That set us back and limited some browsing later. This photo is of the 'whispering room,' where Congress originally met. The acoustics are such that in certain spots, you can be on opposite sides of the room from a small, whispering gathering, and it is as if there is a microphone projecting those words to you. We had a small demonstration and I admit it was impressive.


Head to the Library of Congress, take another tour. Drool over the glass display containing Jefferson's library collection (alas, no photos allowed). Wish that architects took as much pride in building details as they did then, although I realize it all comes down to money.


Go to the Supreme Court for yet another tour. Learn the Court will be in session on Monday, and decide to nix the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum so that we can come back.


Head to a yarn shop (Stitch DC), spend money on yarn and a book. They forgot to include one of my small items in my bag, and when I called for them to credit my account when we returned home, they offered to mail the product to me instead, citing how this is cheaper financially for them, as the credit-card fees are high. I don't mind in the least, as this means I still get my purchase.

Meet some friends from college for a nice dinner. It was a great chance to catch up since we haven't seen each other in three years (since their wedding).

Day 3 - Saturday
The Holocaust Museum took four hours to explore. It was sobering, as we were prepared for. In one transition room, they have the sides of the floor covered several deep of shoes that had been taken from the victims. In others, collections of scissors and utensils collected. One bright spot was Denmark, whose citizens united to save 90 percent of their Jews, and of the 500 who were taken, only 51 died. Refreshing to see a positive mark, when so many other countries feared helping Jews and instead let them perish. We could have easily spent more time there. Our main reason for finally leaving, however, was the desire for food (it was after 2 PM).

We traveled to Chinatown and ate at a little Chinese place. Then it was time to check out the National Portrait Gallery. We browsed the main floor, but I was mostly interested in the presidential portraits, so I made a beeline for that section. Eric especially appreciated the political cartoons that were at the end of the gallery, and I caught a few of those.

Finally, we took in the National Archives; after all, we thought it would be good to see the documents that shaped our nation. It's amazing to see how faded they are; in particular, the Declaration of Independence was nearly illegible. Pictures may follow for this and later days once I transfer them to my computer.

Day 4 - Sunday
By Saturday, I was beginning to lag -- there was only so much walking I could be expected to do, and apparently being out for up to 12 hours is too much. We decided to cut out the Natural History Museum.

Instead, we filled our day with a trip to the Zoo and the National Cathedral.

The animals at the zoo were smart, and were out in the early morning, but we had less luck later in the day as the sun beat down.

At the National Cathedral, we caught -- you guessed it -- another tour. In case you were curious, they have a moon rock in one of their stained-glass windows. And more chapels than you can count.

Day 5 - Monday
We stood in line to hear the Supreme Court in session; they were handing down decisions, and we were able to watch them for the half hour they were in court. Chief Justice Roberts introduced Justices Alito, Thomas, and Scalia as they passed on the decisions. Then a few lawyers were admitted to the Supreme Court Bar, and the session was over.

After a great lunch at a small local deli, we checked out of our hotel and began our trip home. Our cat, even though we had friends checking in on her, was so delighted to see us return.

Shedd Aquarium

Life and work have been pretty quiet lately. I had a bout with the flu a couple weeks back, not something I've had to deal with for a while, and not something I want to tangle with again anytime soon. I had been good and gotten my flu shot, but apparently I was one of the many who succumbed to the poorly chosen strain.

The weather here is slowly turning warm, but it looks like it will be short lived. At least it was beautiful for the long weekend.

Saturday Eric and I decided to take advantage of our close proximity to Chicago and venture there for a day. As a rule, we're not spontaneous, and we grew up used to having few options for heading to a large city, so we don't take advantage of Chicago's nearness quite as we should.

We took the train there and wandered around downtown, walking through a couple parks and taking the customary photos of the Bean.


Our primary destination, though, was the Shedd Aquarium. We chose this since it seemed most different from our scheduled stops during our upcoming Washington, D.C. trip.

We wandered for hours, enjoying our first visit there. It sprawls and there's plenty to take in.


While we were viewing the penguins, it was feeding time. Two handlers emerged, one to feed each penguin individually, the other to write down how many fish each penguin ate. I enjoyed how they all lined up for their turn. Just before this shot, though, the third from the end emerged from the water and budged in line. His peers nipped and hollered at him, to no avail.


I was amused by this gecko; naturally, he cannot read the sign he's concealing, as he's certainly not following its instructions and apparently cannot mimic white text on a blue background.



His peers fared a little better. Example one...


And example two, this one on the back of the sign post:


The day was long, but we both enjoyed it. I think we're planning another Chicago trip for our fifth wedding anniversary this summer.

And what's a post without including a cat update.

Here's Augustine's favorite way of spending beautiful days...


...staring down rabbits and anything else that crosses her path. She is so glad winter is past and we're more lenient with her on the screened-in porch.

I Have the Best Sisters

I really must apologize to those of you who have sisters and yet you are not a sibling to me, because my sisters truly are the best.

They're all three thoughtful, creative, and unique. We have a blast when we spend time together, although distance hampers the frequency of these gatherings.

And for one example that tickles me still, my youngest sister had a dream about me the other day. You really ought to read it here. Isn't she so cute? I am so flattered that in her dreams about me, she is so proud to call me a sibling.