Aftershocks

I love my little Maxy boy. Think of him all day everyday. Toughest thing a person can go through, they say. I’ll agree to that.

I (Michael) am living in Chicago for the next six months for work. I crave the parallel universe where I’m in Houston, and Keri is at home, and we’re carrying for Max. I’d give anything for that. I’m typing this from my apartment roof right now, which may or may not be safe.

My apartment has lots of Max pictures. I like knowing he’s with me watching me. And I know he’d want me to be happy. I know that because when I die, I’ll want people I left behind to be happy. And he’s my son. So there you go.

I feel like he’s checking out Chicago with me.

The dude is amazing. Love him so so much. I like him a lot because we are both monkeypeople. I’m a Monkeyman and he was a Monkeyboy. Monkey genetics.

We got his nice temporary stone set up. His grave is the best. Seriously, it will be so epic when the proper stone comes in. I hope he likes it.

I’d give anything to have him back. I’d trade all my appendages and be a stump.

But I KNOW he’s in a better place. Because the place I’m in without him, well, it’s not very good.

From Keri

Keri hasn’t really gotten involved with Max as far as the digital world goes. She prefers doing things like putting his pictures in frames, organizing awesome things for him, and feeding him breastmilk. But, without my foreknowledge, she added a guestbook post to this site the other day that should really be highlighted. It’s directed towards Max and echoes many of my sentiments. I loved it and hope she continues:

Hey, my little angel buddy. Just want to tell you how very much we love and miss you!!! Mommy and Daddy are getting better now, I hope you don’t worry about us when you look down on us from heaven. We wanted you more than anything in this while world but are so happy you are safe and perfect. Thank you for fighting to be with us. You made our lives a million times better than we could have ever imagined them being before we met you. You are so strong and brave, my little man. There’s a lot you didn’t get to do down here but you did get to experience the very best part of life, which is being loved ABSOLUTELY UNCONDITIONALLY. And not just by your parents, but by your grandparents and aunts and uncles and the rest of your family and friends and nurses and doctors and even people who were never lucky enough to meet a cool dude like you. Whenever we do something good with our lives, know that it is to honor (daddy would want me to spell it honour) you. You were a wonderful son and your future brothers and sisters will know all about you and be glad to have their big brother watching over them. I don’t know much about heaven, just that you’re there now and I hope one day I make it there to meet you and know you better. I love you, monkey.

Due Date

Yesterday was Max’s original due date. Luckily, we didn’t have to wait that long to meet him.

We’ve gotten a good load of sympathy cards, which I always appreciate, but this one especially struck me.

It’s from an old friend I met in 5th grade (Katie) and her mom:

little dude

Back when Max was in the NICU and everything was alright, and everyone was assured that he’d be coming home one day, I was just hoping that he’d be with me in time for football season. We could sit in our Cowboys gear and be buddies and cuddle and watch all the games. Unfortunately, we never got that chance.

But in his short time, Max did become everything I ever wanted in a son… a great little dude who loved his dad very much.

NICU Review Part 2

It’s been a couple of months now, but those 16 days with Max is what will define the rest of my life for me. I threw out a lot of old t-shirts yesterday, and justified it because they were all B.M., Before Max. That was another chapter of my life, the prologue.

My favorite parts of the NICU were when we could take Max from his cage and he’d cuddle with Keri and I’d sing songs or read stories. I think Max loved it pretty much the most ever.

His first book was my epic rendition of Rumpelstiltskin. He dug every second of it.

Here’s an actual picture.

I’m moving to Chicago for work and will put Max graffiti everywhere as much as possible.

And also, edit some more pictures.

It’s great getting new pictures from family member’s camera’s we haven’t seen before. It’s like seeing a new version of him. Love the kid, love him. He’s gotta be A#1 Angel by now.

His Tombstone

We ordered Max his nice tombstone yesterday.
We got the proof in today, it’s going to rock the party.

The quote is from the song “Holland, 1945” by Neutral Milk Hotel.
It’s an indie classic, and Pitchfork voted it 7th best song of the 1990s, though most non-indie-hipster-types likely have never heard it.

I’ve known the song for years, and was listening to it a bit after Max went to Heaven-land, and the quote seemed perfect.

In other news, I was attacked by shingles, so I haven’t been able to get my tattoo. Hopefully I can get it on before August 13, when I go to Chicago for 6 months. I plan to put Max-based graffiti up as much as possible.

His Stuff

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.

2 Months

Happy two month birthday to Max the Baby! A landmark day in my lifestory, to say the least.
We visited his grave today and it still has all the cool stuff I put up the other day, despite the rain. My makeshift lamination technique worked.

I’ve yet to get my commemoratory tattoo yet, but it will be Max’s handprint eventually, when I get the onions to go to the place and ask for it.

We’ve also yet to order the tombstone, but I’m hoping the lyric “The Earth Looks Better From A Star That’s Right Above From Where You Are” fits.

It’s been a 1.5 months since Max went to Angel-mode but the crying’s simmered down and there’s more of a blissful happiness when looking at and kissing his pictures. Got some book recommendations on grief and losing kids, but I haven’t gotten around to reading most yet. Counseling and just general time have helped though.

Love you, Mega Max the Super Angel Baby Boy.

P.S. – Stuff’s still coming in like the other day a really nice sympathy card spearheaded by I think my friend Miller signed by Nederland people. Really appreciate every gesture like that.

P.P.S – Before this all happened, I never knew how I’d react to this kind of situation, and people have told me, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” and the like, and even with the benefit of hindsight, I barely know how I’ve come through it. But I realize there’s still a lifetime to go.

Max and his Mr. Stinks

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.

Grave Remodeling

We still hadn’t gotten around to ordering Max’s official tombstone, but I want to make sure his resting place looks as awesome as he was. I went and did some work on it today.

The giraffe represents his Giraffe-A NICU Unit, the dragon because it’s a symbol of Krakow, and the Angel because he’s my little angel.

Also, since I had to go to the Polish store to get the Polish flag anyway, I gave him a bit of good Polish juice to drink.

Yummy.

There seemed to be a procession about to go on, so I don’t know what the people there thought of a guy in tears running to a grave to pour carrot juice on it, and then running back to his car, but it can remain a mystery to them.

Additionally with my mom in Poland, she did Max the favor of letting him meet up with his grandma at my grandparent’s grave.

Max at my grandma’s grave in Poland.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I’ve yet to get my Max tattoo, but it’s coming. And I still got some Max stories locked-and-loaded to tell. And maybe some as of yet unpublished Max video. Kid made a big impression in his 16 days and I couldn’t be prouder.

Some Funeral Pictures

I’ve added some pictures of Max’s funeral here: https://maxthebaby.com/selected-funeral-pics/

Again, thanks so much for everyone who came out. It really was a beautiful event befitting for such a beautiful boy.

I didn’t post any picture of Max himself in his funeral costume because he’s shy, but I want to give a special thanks to www.preemiepride.com where I bought his burial gown.

I’m hoping to get one in my size when it’s my time to go.