Time Just Flies - Recapping the Holidays

There is so much to write about and so little time to do it.  In the meantime our baby is rapidly turning into a toddler.

First of all I have been meaning to recap the holidays--they were great. All three of them!  (Hanukkah, Christmas and New Years).  We lit candles for Hanukkah every day--a first for us.  Of course Nat will not remember any of it, but it still felt nice to do.

Our Christmas might have been a little frenzied, but we hit all the "essentials": family (one of the bigger turn outs this year), rolls, Christmas jello, sugar high, interesting cocktails (ok, Nat might have skipped those last two...).  

Clearly Walla Walla deserves a lot more coverage than just one sentence.  In contrast, there is not much to say about our New Years celebration--just us at home, with a little bit of cake, strawberries and champagne.  

Of course there was also Nat's first airplane ride, and he was a trooper.  He fussed a bit, but not unreasonably.  During take off and landing, he fell asleep instead of screaming.  

Unfortunately, our car ride to and from Walla Walla, which is only marginally shorter than the plane ride, was not nearly as pleasant.  Nat hardly slept, and screamed bloody murder for over an hour each way.  The short periods of time he did not scream were all due to Aunt Brooke's creative entertainment.  (Thanks, Brooke!)

In addition to meeting a lot of family for the first time over the holidays, Nat also got to spend quality time with several dogs.  Being a very small animal himself, he was cautious at first.  While Mojo, the energetic pug, scared Nat out of his high chair for good, Roo, the super mellow Newfoundland mix was the favorite despite his enormous size.  After a couple of days in the same house, Nat chased Roo with happy squeals.  He also maintained what he must have deemed a safe distance of about a foot when the dog was facing him, and promptly "ran" away with similarly loud squeals if Roo moved towards him. 

Now over a month has passed.  While Nick and I have barely had time to recover from the holidays, Nat grew two more teeth, started walking on his own, and stopped being a vegetarian.  He is still attracted to kitchen cabinets, but has discovered how to open and close the bedroom door, and grew absolutely obsessed with lifting the flaps in his Toes, Ears and Nose! book.

Donating Bone Marrow

Five years ago I registered with the National Marrow Donor Program.  It is notoriously difficult to find a match for someone needing a bone marrow transplant, and I wanted to help.  At the same time, because it is so difficult to find a match, I did not really expect to ever be contacted. 

So you can imagine my shock when last October I received an email informing me that I was a possible match.  I followed the instructions and got in touch with the people in the donor program.  I had to make some difficult choices.  For a variety of reasons the program provided me, the perspective donor, with limited information while asking me to make an unconditional go/no-go decision upfront. 

For example, there are multiple methods for extracting bone marrow.  The least invasive and the most common one used currently requires the donor to take medication for at least a week.  For a breastfeeding mother like me, 7 days of medication implied 7 days of pumping and dumping, while my baby ate frozen breastmilk or formula.  I knew my baby would be in no danger of malnutrition, but I worried that he would inadvertently be weaned by the time I was ready to breastfeed him again. 

Many questions whirled around my mind.  Who is more important to me, my baby or a leukemia patient I have never met?  Can I compare the benefits of breastfeeding to an attempt to give someone another chance to live?  Can I subject my family to the extra work that will result from my pumping around the clock, having to feed the baby from the bottle around the clock, not to mention dealing with me potentially feeling weak and/or sick from the medication and the donation itself? 

Feeling overwhelmed, I called my very good friend whose brother has now been cancer free for two years after having a bone marrow transplant.  Talking to her made the decision easy.  I never wanted to wonder whether someone could have lived but died because I was worried that my baby might wean too early.  I never wanted to wonder if parents lost their child because I was worried about the possibility of having to feed formula instead of breastmilk to my baby.  I never wanted to wonder if children lost their parent because I was worried about having to do more work while feeling tired.  My concerns fizzled away in comparison to losing someone who could have lived.

So I agreed to proceed.

As it turns out, my bone marrow was not needed this time around.  Perhaps a better match was found, or the patient decided against the procedure, or the doctors decided against the procedure for this patient.  I will never know what really happened, but I am glad that I will never have to think back to this episode in my life and wonder "what if..."