Category Archives: About Max

Stuff about Max. What he was like, and did.

Right Now

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I look at my pictures of Max everyday and kiss them. Once in the morning, and then once in the afternoon while at work. I keep the same roll of pictures on my phone, but I don’t have all of them.

It’s like, there are certain folders of his pictures I look at more sparingly, so that way I can check them out when I miss him the most and it’s almost like new pictures because I don’t remember them as well as the ones I see everyday.

Even though I definitely looked through every scrap of him for his funeral slideshow etc, sometimes the pictures can still feel like new. Like I barely remember the below but I adore it.

Temperature Time

At least it wasn’t the old fashioned way…

And don’t even get me started on the videos. Seeing his little chest move up and down. Wow.

It’s damn tough and it doesn’t stop.

Happy Birthday: New Artifacts

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Firstly, Happy 4 month birthday to my baby boy. Best day of my life, honestly. I don’t know what I was running on, adrenaline or what, but it was amazing. Anyway, as time goes by, we’re making a concerted effort to collect every skim of memory of Max, be it on someone’s cell phone, camera, their mind?

So here is some stuff that I hadn’t even seen. It brings me back to the best times of my life. It’s a steady downhill since. Just NO MEANING without here with us. He was our perfection. The shining light. And he always will be. So here are some new pictures salvaged from family’s phones etc.:

 

I’m a maniac!

Lift!

This bath sucks.

Hey, how’s it going?

So, you’re a nurse, huh?

It’s sleepy in here.

Baggy diapers are the latest fashion.

Also, we got a couple of all new never before released videos!

Max Kicking Some Ass! (and my hand)

Sorry, Maxy Boy. The above bath one might be embarrassing, but I hate baths too!

Happy birthday crazy monkey boy!

His Stuff

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I found this in the mail today:

Pretty intriguing. I opened it up and it was about his insurance:

One might think that I’d complain about it. Say something about how the insurance company should review their policy on sending letters to newborns, especially ones that have since gone into Angel-mode.

But, no. It made me happy. Really happy. It reminds me that he was here on earth. That he made an impact. That he had stuff.

This is his letter.
About his insurance.
Just the same as his diapers.
And his blankets.
And his presents.
And his hat.
And his gown.
And his monkey toy.
His poop.
His feet.
His hands.
His eyes.
His voice.

All of it. All of it was here, and all of it was real. And all of it is always his.

Max and his Mr. Stinks

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If this was HBO, the following post would be proceeded with something like… may contain adult content. But really not, it’s just about poop and about what may be the proudest moment I had with my boy Max.

Setting some background: during his NICU stay, he started getting milk fed to him through his feeding tube, and it was really important that he pooped it out, to make sure all his innards were working properly. In fact, that’s an issue that remains important throughout your life. Max’s stool become common enough conversation that I decided to nickname the act of pooping as “making a Mr. Stinks.” Just to break up the monotony.

Because, everyday, we’d keep check on him, and every phone call, we’d ask the nurse… “Has he had any stools!?” and sometimes they’d be like, “Yeah, a little” or “There was some smear in his diaper” or “No, so we’re probably going to give him a suppository later.”

Anyway, monitoring this stool thing was one of the many big deals and situations we kept a close eye on all the time.

Well, one night, May 26th to be exact, we were up at the NICU, and Max had yet to make to a Mr. Stinks that day.  Not majorly concerning, but the more Stinks the better. We showed up so Max could have time for his time of skin-to-skin Kangaroo care with Keri.

This is usually when I would sit next to them singing songs or reading books and he’d lay peacefully and you knew he loved it because all of his vitals would be dead on perfect.

So, the hour was up and the nurse was putting Max back in his incubator. Then she said something along the lines of, “I smell something…”

Artist’s Rendering:

Immediately, I reached for the phone as if I was about to snap a photo of the Loch Ness Monster. Well, it nearly damn well was.

She opened his diaper, and there in all it’s pea-green glory, a giant Mr. Stinks…

And not only was it just there, more was coming out, right then! My boy was doing it, and he was doing it right!

It was my single proudest moment as a father.

The nurse was like, “Ooh” and Keri was smiling, but then she looked over at me and said, “Are you taking pictures?”

Hell yes I was. And looking back, I’m damn glad I did.

Max’s Music

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I’m a big music fan. And I think Max was as well. When he was still in utero, I had purchased these things called bellybuds that would allow him to jam to some tunes inside the womb. The first song I ever played him was “Float On” by Modest Mouse, and when he heard the first few bangs of the drum, he responded with an epic kick. Instant fan. Amazing.

We didn’t get to use the belly buds as long as we had planned since Max decided to make his appearance early, but I made sure he got plenty of music.

One day I showed up at the hospital with the belly buds, and connected them to his incubator glass.

I had prepared a special MAX playlist just for the occasion, comprised of some of my favorite all-time songs, and stuff I thought he might like. The playlist looked something like this:

I think he got through the majority of the playlist, except for those last few songs, which I only added to the MAX playlist for the slideshow and stuff, so he didn’t hear those til the funeral.

Another nurse said he probably couldn’t hear through the sound of the CPAP and the incubator itself, but I don’t buy it. I like to think he listened and loved it. That’s my boy. And I, for one, will always feel these songs in a different way now.

More on music… during Kangaroo Care, when Max was on Keri’s chest, I tried to keep them entertained. I ran out of stories to read, so one day I just went about singing TV theme songs, whose lyrics I would look at online. So I KNOW Max was lucky enough to hear my renditions of such hits as the theme songs to Cheers, Who’s The Boss, Growing Pains, Greatest American Hero, Perfect Strangers, Full House, and more.

Needless to say, during his short stay with us on Earth, Max really dug the music.

Max The Baby

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Max The Baby was a very good little baby. Everyone loved him so much even though he didn’t really talk or anything. He was born on May 14th because he wasn’t getting enough good nutrition in the womb. He was a little baby, 1lb 1oz, but he was a good boy that could breathe on his own and make an awesome mean face. His dad saw when they pulled him out and he had a great scowl, living up to his nickname of Mad Max. He was doing a good job growing and gaining weight and pooping in the NICU. He liked to open his eyes and look around and lay on his mommy’s chest and grab people’s hands. He liked his nurses too because they were usually nice and loved him and called him Mighty Max and made him nice name signs. One day when they were taking care of him his heart rate went down and wouldn’t come back up when they tried different things. I think maybe he maybe was tired of the NICU and wanted to go up to Heaven. He was such a perfect little boy and never did anything bad to everyone. He will watch over everyone that was nice to him. He was young but he had more hospital time and blood transfusions and different little medical things than most people – meaning he was super strong. He had a friend that was a little screaming monkey that stayed in his room. Max The Baby is an amazing boy that we’ll always think about and love.