So we dragged ourselves out of bed this morning about 8:30 so we could make it to the pediatrician's office by 9:30. The visit went well, and Jackson is up to 8lbs 6ozs today, so he didn't lose any weight after being born and has added 5 ounces already. No sign of jaundice and only a few minor rashes that the doctor said was normal. He'll go back on the 10th for his next check-up.
Jackson went through three diapers while we were in the room at the clinic. He almost peed on the doctor but his aim was off. He managed to get me wet last night when I was changing him. He's got a good stream because he managed to shoot it completely over his head and onto the bed before I could interrupt it.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Happy New Year
Happy New Year from the Hatcher family! Things are going great here and Marissa and Jackson are both fine, although Marissa could probably use a little more sleep. I promise when things get a little more sane around here I'll do a long post about the birth of our new boy Jackson. For now I've posted some good pictures on my Flickr account and you can click the link on the right side of the page to see them all.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
He's Here!
Jackson Aidan Hatcher was born on December 28, 2005 at 6:11pm CST at Centennial Women's Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. He weighed 8 pounds 1 ounce and was 20.5 inches long. Marissa is doing great but is still in some pain. We'll be bringing him home tomorrow night.
Unfortunately Centennial has no wireless access so I'm posting this on a quick trip home before I go back to the hospital. More pictures and updates soon.
Unfortunately Centennial has no wireless access so I'm posting this on a quick trip home before I go back to the hospital. More pictures and updates soon.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
A Nice Spring Day
It's 61 degrees here in Nashville as I write this entry. I ended up walking twice today since it was so nice out and I wanted to try out my new pedometer that I got for Christmas. I can tell it's been 10 days since I really walked much since I was feeling it at the end of both walks, but it was very nice to be able to walk without a jacket and gloves on.
Of course tonight and tomorrow there's supposed to be thunderstorms, so I hope that's not an omen for the birth of the new Spawn of Hatch. I think he's anxious to get here too, since Marissa called me and said he's been kicking on her ribs all day.
Of course tonight and tomorrow there's supposed to be thunderstorms, so I hope that's not an omen for the birth of the new Spawn of Hatch. I think he's anxious to get here too, since Marissa called me and said he's been kicking on her ribs all day.
Christmas
Another Christmas has come and gone at the House of Hatch. Everyone survived and we all probably put on a few pounds. I've probably put on 10 lbs since my father passed away two weeks ago. I've been off the diet completely but I have been walking some.
My mother, brother and his wife and kids and two dogs came up for a few days last week. They stayed two nights then headed off back to Alabama. It was good to see everyone, but with the two extra dogs and all the people in the house it was a little stressful, especially for Molly the cat.
On Christmas Eve we went to Marissa's uncles house for a Christmas Eve breakfast. It's a large family event and there were probably 20+ people there. I got a nice Alabama T-Shirt which I know was painful for all the Tennessee fans in the family to buy for me.
Marissa, Victoria and I opened our presents from each other on Christmas Eve night. I got a pair of Smart Wool socks and the first two seasons of Family Guy. I also got a pedometer I've been wanting, so now I'll track the number of steps I take every day instead of the number of miles. I'll post about that later.
Marissa's present will get here late, but it's something she really wanted. I'll let her blog about that. I also got her a Dolly Parton CD that she's been craving for a while.
Christmas Day we went to Marissa's fathers house for breakfast and opened more presents there. Marissa got a new tea maker. I got a George Foreman grill which I've been wanting for a while, and Victoria hit the big score with a 4G iPod Nano. It's really nice and we've been fighting over it ever since. I guess I'm going to have to get me one eventually since Victoria doesn't share well with others. Heh.
After we left there we visited Marissa's grandfather in the nursing home for a little while. He's doing better and was sitting up in a chair while we there. He's still suffering from dementia but was able to carry on some conversation with everyone.
After that we went to Marissa's mothers house for an early dinner. It was good but I was still stuffed from breakfast and couldn't really put a dent in it like I normally would. We bought them a bottle of Chardonay which they opened for dinner, and it was nice. I drank half a glass which is more wine than I've had in quite a while.
Yesterday was quiet for the most part. We bought a new video camera that we found on sale at Radio Shack so we can take lots of video of the new baby. We made a quick dash into Walmart, which wasn't as bad as I expected it to be. I'm just glad we didn't have to return anything.
So tomorrow morning at 6:30 we're going to show up at the hospital so Marissa can be induced. I'm very excited but I'm also really nervous. I can't wait to see my little boy, but I'm not looking forward to the sleepless nights for the next few months. Stay tuned for pictures and maybe even some video.
My mother, brother and his wife and kids and two dogs came up for a few days last week. They stayed two nights then headed off back to Alabama. It was good to see everyone, but with the two extra dogs and all the people in the house it was a little stressful, especially for Molly the cat.
On Christmas Eve we went to Marissa's uncles house for a Christmas Eve breakfast. It's a large family event and there were probably 20+ people there. I got a nice Alabama T-Shirt which I know was painful for all the Tennessee fans in the family to buy for me.
Marissa, Victoria and I opened our presents from each other on Christmas Eve night. I got a pair of Smart Wool socks and the first two seasons of Family Guy. I also got a pedometer I've been wanting, so now I'll track the number of steps I take every day instead of the number of miles. I'll post about that later.
Marissa's present will get here late, but it's something she really wanted. I'll let her blog about that. I also got her a Dolly Parton CD that she's been craving for a while.
Christmas Day we went to Marissa's fathers house for breakfast and opened more presents there. Marissa got a new tea maker. I got a George Foreman grill which I've been wanting for a while, and Victoria hit the big score with a 4G iPod Nano. It's really nice and we've been fighting over it ever since. I guess I'm going to have to get me one eventually since Victoria doesn't share well with others. Heh.
After we left there we visited Marissa's grandfather in the nursing home for a little while. He's doing better and was sitting up in a chair while we there. He's still suffering from dementia but was able to carry on some conversation with everyone.
After that we went to Marissa's mothers house for an early dinner. It was good but I was still stuffed from breakfast and couldn't really put a dent in it like I normally would. We bought them a bottle of Chardonay which they opened for dinner, and it was nice. I drank half a glass which is more wine than I've had in quite a while.
Yesterday was quiet for the most part. We bought a new video camera that we found on sale at Radio Shack so we can take lots of video of the new baby. We made a quick dash into Walmart, which wasn't as bad as I expected it to be. I'm just glad we didn't have to return anything.
So tomorrow morning at 6:30 we're going to show up at the hospital so Marissa can be induced. I'm very excited but I'm also really nervous. I can't wait to see my little boy, but I'm not looking forward to the sleepless nights for the next few months. Stay tuned for pictures and maybe even some video.
Friday, December 23, 2005
A Well Lived Life
At age 89, Norman Vaughan climbed a 10k high mountain in Antarctica that was named for him by Admiral Byrd when he accompanied him on treks to the South Pole in the 1930's. He moved to Alaska in his late 60's being nearly broke and restarted his life. He died there today aged 100 years and 4 days. His motto was "Dream big and dare to fail." The man lived.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Days to Remember
There are many days in life that we remember well. One day I remember is December 26, 1987. On that day I sat on a couch in my parents house in Westover, Alabama and watched my father make multiple trips from the back of the house to the driveway, each time toting a large black garbage bag full of his clothes and other belongings. Neither of us said anything to the other, and I didn't offer to help.
On his last trip out, he stopped and tried to explain to me that he didn't love my mother any more, and that this was all for the best. I was nineteen years old at the time, and didn't know as much as I do now, but I remember thinking even then how selfish he was and how he was incapable of telling the truth even when he had to know we knew he was lying. I was so angry with him at that moment all I could do was shake my head and glare at him.
To put this into context, you need to know a few other things about this time period. My parents should have celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary just one week prior to this day, but they didn't even mention it to each other. My uncle Floyd, my father's brother, had died suddenly of a brain aneurysm just a few days before, and we spent Christmas mourning him. I had just finished the worst semester of college ever, in which my GPA was a whopping 0.5 for the 19 semester hours I took. This was a time a father needed to be strong and be there for his family, but my father announced he was moving out of the house and into a cheap, run down trailer with the local whore.
The next eighteen years my brother and I spent too much time worrying about my father. Where was he? For five of those years we didn't have a clue. The rest of the time my father spent in jail, halfway houses, or living in various ramshackle trailers, relying on the kindness of neighbors or whatever family members he could convince to help him. Every time he tried to make a clean start, we would be there, but he seldom held off the demons for more than a few months, then the alcohol or drugs would sweep him away and we refused to be part of that lifestyle.
Eventually it all caught up to him and he developed a large aneurysm on his basal artery. He was given six months to live several years ago, but always managed to avoid death from the strokes the aneurysm was causing. He grew weaker and weaker however, and eventually was half paralyzed, deaf, and unable to talk.
December 15, 2005 is another day that I won't soon forget. At 5:30 pm I was still at work, finishing up a project I had spent the last few weeks on. I had talked to my father's doctors several times that day, who had informed me he had pnemonia and was not in good condition, but they were attempting to stablize him and get him ready to go back to a nursing home for long term care. I had given them authorization to insert a feeding tube since my father was no longer lucid and could not make decisions for himself.
At 5:30 I received a call from a nurse at the hospital, who told me that my father had taken a sudden turn for the worse and was having great difficulty breathing. They didn't expect him to last much longer. I asked if he would last long enough for me to drive from Nashville to Birmingham, and she said honestly she didn't think he would. I left work and drove to my house, and after speaking with Marissa and making sure someone could come quickly to check on her, I left Hermitage headed for the hospital in Alabaster at about 6:30.
It wasn't a fun trip. I didn't speed much, but I spent the whole trip wondering if I'd make it before he stopped breathing. My brother, uncle, and two aunts were already at the hospital and I got regular updates from my brother. They had put my father on a CPAP machine to help him breath a little easier, and my brother and I discussed that somewhat while I was driving down. My father had "do not resusitate" and "do not incubate" orders already.
I arrived at the hospital at 9:45 pm that night, and after I talked to my brother and my aunt Naomi we asked the nurses to remove the CPAP machine, and they did so about 10:30. We all stood there with my father as he struggled for breath, and I was still holding his hand when he took his last one just before 11:30 pm. He never regained conciousness that evening.
We buried him on Sunday afternoon in the Columbiana City Cemetary next to his mother. It was a brief ceremony and almost everyone there was a relative. My brother Brian, my uncle Eugene, my cousins Clay, David, Shawn and I served as pallbearers. My cousin Stephanie read a hearfelt letter to my brother and I that my aunt Naomi had written, which was much more truthful than the brief message that the preacher who barely knew my father delivered.
As is a strange tradition in my family, we watched the backhoe dump the dirt into the grave and the workers finish filling it in with their shovels. Then we stood around and talked for a while before drifting away and I drove back to Nashville to be with my very pregnant and beautiful wife, who was worried about me and upset that she couldn't make the drive down for the funeral.
I forgave my father years ago. I know some people don't understand that. I still don't understand completely, but I have forgiven him. The thing I grieved for at his death was the waste that the last 18 years of his life became. There was no reason for him to be dead at age 66. No reason he shouldn't know his grandchildren or enjoy his retirement. No reason for every conversation with him over the last 18 years to always include an apology for what he had become. He did this to himself with the choices he made. I think my real father died on December 26, 1987 but it took 6,564 days for the shell he had become to finally waste away.
On his last trip out, he stopped and tried to explain to me that he didn't love my mother any more, and that this was all for the best. I was nineteen years old at the time, and didn't know as much as I do now, but I remember thinking even then how selfish he was and how he was incapable of telling the truth even when he had to know we knew he was lying. I was so angry with him at that moment all I could do was shake my head and glare at him.
To put this into context, you need to know a few other things about this time period. My parents should have celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary just one week prior to this day, but they didn't even mention it to each other. My uncle Floyd, my father's brother, had died suddenly of a brain aneurysm just a few days before, and we spent Christmas mourning him. I had just finished the worst semester of college ever, in which my GPA was a whopping 0.5 for the 19 semester hours I took. This was a time a father needed to be strong and be there for his family, but my father announced he was moving out of the house and into a cheap, run down trailer with the local whore.
The next eighteen years my brother and I spent too much time worrying about my father. Where was he? For five of those years we didn't have a clue. The rest of the time my father spent in jail, halfway houses, or living in various ramshackle trailers, relying on the kindness of neighbors or whatever family members he could convince to help him. Every time he tried to make a clean start, we would be there, but he seldom held off the demons for more than a few months, then the alcohol or drugs would sweep him away and we refused to be part of that lifestyle.
Eventually it all caught up to him and he developed a large aneurysm on his basal artery. He was given six months to live several years ago, but always managed to avoid death from the strokes the aneurysm was causing. He grew weaker and weaker however, and eventually was half paralyzed, deaf, and unable to talk.
December 15, 2005 is another day that I won't soon forget. At 5:30 pm I was still at work, finishing up a project I had spent the last few weeks on. I had talked to my father's doctors several times that day, who had informed me he had pnemonia and was not in good condition, but they were attempting to stablize him and get him ready to go back to a nursing home for long term care. I had given them authorization to insert a feeding tube since my father was no longer lucid and could not make decisions for himself.
At 5:30 I received a call from a nurse at the hospital, who told me that my father had taken a sudden turn for the worse and was having great difficulty breathing. They didn't expect him to last much longer. I asked if he would last long enough for me to drive from Nashville to Birmingham, and she said honestly she didn't think he would. I left work and drove to my house, and after speaking with Marissa and making sure someone could come quickly to check on her, I left Hermitage headed for the hospital in Alabaster at about 6:30.
It wasn't a fun trip. I didn't speed much, but I spent the whole trip wondering if I'd make it before he stopped breathing. My brother, uncle, and two aunts were already at the hospital and I got regular updates from my brother. They had put my father on a CPAP machine to help him breath a little easier, and my brother and I discussed that somewhat while I was driving down. My father had "do not resusitate" and "do not incubate" orders already.
I arrived at the hospital at 9:45 pm that night, and after I talked to my brother and my aunt Naomi we asked the nurses to remove the CPAP machine, and they did so about 10:30. We all stood there with my father as he struggled for breath, and I was still holding his hand when he took his last one just before 11:30 pm. He never regained conciousness that evening.
We buried him on Sunday afternoon in the Columbiana City Cemetary next to his mother. It was a brief ceremony and almost everyone there was a relative. My brother Brian, my uncle Eugene, my cousins Clay, David, Shawn and I served as pallbearers. My cousin Stephanie read a hearfelt letter to my brother and I that my aunt Naomi had written, which was much more truthful than the brief message that the preacher who barely knew my father delivered.
As is a strange tradition in my family, we watched the backhoe dump the dirt into the grave and the workers finish filling it in with their shovels. Then we stood around and talked for a while before drifting away and I drove back to Nashville to be with my very pregnant and beautiful wife, who was worried about me and upset that she couldn't make the drive down for the funeral.
I forgave my father years ago. I know some people don't understand that. I still don't understand completely, but I have forgiven him. The thing I grieved for at his death was the waste that the last 18 years of his life became. There was no reason for him to be dead at age 66. No reason he shouldn't know his grandchildren or enjoy his retirement. No reason for every conversation with him over the last 18 years to always include an apology for what he had become. He did this to himself with the choices he made. I think my real father died on December 26, 1987 but it took 6,564 days for the shell he had become to finally waste away.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
