The Newman Brothers

I don't know much about raising one son.  I don't know a damn thing at all about raising two sons.

In fact, I'm still at the point where it feels really strange to refer to "my older son" or "my younger son."  Having two sons is going to take some getting used to, no doubt.

What I think, though, is that the best I can hope for is that my sons love each other and look out for each other.  I know they're going to fuss and fight, at times, but underneath the surface I hope they will always remember how much Jude and I love them and how much they love each other.

Before Joey was born, I had joked on numerous occasions about how J.P. was going to go from being "the man," to being "just another man," like all of the rest of us (men).  I was concerned (and still am, to a point) about how J.P. would adjust to Jude and me necessarily dividing our attention between two sons.  I wondered if J.P. realized Joey was not coming home from the hospital to our house for a visit, but that he actually was going to live with us.

My worries about how J.P. would feel about his little brother were unfounded, fortunately.  J.P. absolutely loves Joey.  He wants to "hold him" every day (which, frankly, scares the shit out of me).  Under Jude's watchful eye, J.P. had "held" Joey in our bed, propped up on pillows, several times.  J.P. constantly wants to know what Joey is doing.  He likes to watch him sleep or to be Jude's "assistant" when she changes Joey's diaper or give him a bath.

Interestingly, J.P. has determined Joey does 5 things - he poops, pees, eats, sleeps and smiles.  That's pretty accurate.  J.P. has keen powers of observation.

This may be the best photograph I have ever taken.  Hell, it may be the best photograph I ever take.

The Thousand Yard Stare

The Thousand Yard Stare.

I had it the night after our son, Joseph Dylan Newman, was born.  I tossed and turned on the couch in our hospital room, what little sleep I could get constantly interrupted by what seemed to be an endless stream of nurses entering our room throughout the night to check Jude's vital signs or bring our son in to breastfeed.

I had it again our first night home from the hospital, Friday (Saturday morning, actually), about 2:30 a.m.  Jude was up feeding Joey, who was a a little fussy.  I heard J.P. call for Jude, so I got up to see what he needed.  When I got to his room, he was whimpering that his stomach hurt.  My eyes grew wide as I realized he had vomited in his bed.  Reassuring him that everything would be okay, I got him out of him pajamas and changed the sheets on his bed.  He took a drink of water and got back into bed.

I fell back into bed, exhausted.  Within minutes, J.P. called for me again and by the time I got to his room, he had vomited in his bed.  Again.  I cleaned him up, brushed his teeth and changed his pajamas.  Bleary eyed, I changed the sheets on his bed - again - using the only other pair of single bed sheets we have.  I even "flipped" the bed, making it up so that the head of the bed was where the foot had been, in an effort to psyche him into feeling better.

I staggered into our bedroom, tired and frustrated, wondering if this is really what being the father of two sons is going to be like.  As I pondered my fate, J.P. called me again and, yes, when I got to his room, he had vomited.  Again.  Like a mummy or a zombie, I staggered around upstairs, looking for more sheets for his bed.  I ended up finding a pair of double sheets that were too big for his bed.  I tucked the sides of the sheets under his mattress in an effort to make them fit.  By now it was after 4 a.m. and I was running on fumes, asleep on my feet.

He may have vomited again or that may have been a bad dream.  I'm actually not sure.  That's it.  That's the Thousand Yard Stare.

Fortunately, I was able to laugh about it the next day.  Our pediatrician laughed uproariously when I related the story to him on Monday (he has 3 children).  "Baptism by fire," he said.  And I guess it was.

Moving Day

Yesterday, Jude, Joey and I packed up our gear and left the comfort and cocoon-like security of our room at Baptist Hospital, where we had been residing for the past four days.  The care the nurses had provided for us during our stay was outstanding.  We're especially grateful to Kiley, our nurse for the last couple of days we were there.  After she walked us out to the parking garage and Jude's Honda Pilot, Jude and I each gave her a hug and thanked her for being so patient and kind to us.

We weren't quite as nervous on the drive home from the hospital as we were with J.P. four years ago.  Actually, it was more a feeling of deja vous as I walked into our house carrying Joey in the same carrier I carried J.P. into our house in for the first time a lifetime ago.  Jude and I both remarked how uncanny the resemblance is between the two of them (as infants).  Others who have seen photos I've taken of Joey have noticed the same thing.

Joey

More fun with the iPhone and the camera apps.

Hand Model

Joey this evening, with professional baby poser, Rob Montano (Roseann Maikis's husband).

Family

Jude, John Patrick and Joey.  My pride and joy.

Uncle Carley

Tuesday, around lunch time, Carley Meade (our nanny and friend) picked up J.P. at school and brought him to the hospital to meet his little brother for the first time.  I met them in the parking lot and J.P. was so excited he was bouncing up and down and squealing with delight.  By the time we got the hospital room, he was a little nervous.  Once we were inside, he got comfortable pretty quickly, and asked question after question.  J.P. was especially curious about his little brother and peaked at him in Jude's mother's lap, as she rocked him in the rocking chair.  

It was pretty cool to watch Carley hold Joey, knowing how lucky we are that she is going to be able to impact his life in the same she has impacted J.P.'s.  

Carley Meade and Joey.

Jude and Joey, resting.

Joey and me.

My sister, Tracy, with Joey.

I've been having a lot, and I mean a lot, of fun with my iPhone during our stay at the hospital.  I have a couple of camera apps I purchased and I've taken a lot of photographs with them.

This a a great photograph of Jude's dad, Jim White, holding his new grandson, Joey.

Jude's grandmother, Rita White, holding Joey (it still feels weird typing a name other than J.P.) in our room (#7728) at Baptist Hospital.  J.P. has always called her "Great," and he absolutely loves her.  I suspect Joey is going to feel the same way.

Joseph Dylan Newman

It took a couple of days, but Jude and I settled on a name today for our new son - Joseph Dylan Newman.

As was the case with John Patrick, we came to the hospital with a working list of names and combinations of names.  I was pretty certain Joseph was going to be in there somewhere, which was a good thing, given that J.P. announced several weeks ago that his little brother was going to be named "Joey."  In fact, on Tuesday morning, he apparently announced to his teachers at school that later in the day, he was going to see his little brother, Joey.

We called J.P. at home this morning during breakfast with Jude's parents to tell him the name.  He immediately told us he liked the name, then advised he was going to call his little brother "Joseph Dylan," not "Joey."  I've already found myself referring to "Joey" as "John Patrick," which I guess it not too surprising, given that I'm operating on very little sleep at the hospital the past few days.

It's going to be one hell of a ride, I think.

Joseph Dylan Newman.  It kind of has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Cleared to Land

This morning, Jude and I had our final Monday NST (non-stress test) at Baptist Hospital before tomorrow's c-section.  We had arranged for Jude's parents to stay with J.P. and give him breakfast, since he was out of school for President's Day.  Afterwards, Jude was to go home and spend the day with J.P., while I went into the office to wrap up a few things before taking some time off.  That was our plan, anyway.

Well, life had a little plan for us, as it turns out.

When they hooked the fetal heart monitor up, I didn't pay too much attention to the readout, because the whole experience has become second nature for us.  I did not that our baby's heart rate was steady in the low 130's.  Good, I thought, forgetting it's better if the heart rate bounces around a bit, as that show the baby is active and moving.

After a few minutes, the nurse came back into our room and turned Jude over.  Almost immediately our baby's heart rate started jumping all over the place.  A few more minutes passed and a different nurse walked in and simultaneously the telephone in our room starting ringing.  "It's Dr. Maikis," she said.  "She wants to talk to you."

I answered and, all business, Roseann said, "I'm not liking some of the things I'm seeing.  Let's do the surgery this afternoon."  My heart skipped a beat even though she assured me it wasn't an emergency.  I handed the telephone to Jude and she spoke quietly to Roseann, then hung up.

"It's go time," I said.  Jude nodded and I could see her putting on her game face.  "Are you ready?" I asked.  "I will be," she replied.  Game on.

I drove home and game J.P. and Jude's parents the news.  It's funny, but J.P. was ecstatic, since it meant he wouldn't have to wait until tomorrow to be a big brother.  Jude's dad helped me pack my truck, then I drove them all to the hospital to see Jude.  J.P. was fine until we began walking down the hall of the 3rd floor at Baptist Hospital to Jude's room.

"Daddy.  I don't know about this," he said.  I just smiled and told him everything would be all right.  He held my hand a little tighter.

Inside Jude's hospital room, J.P. was a fountain of questions.  He got upset when it was time to leave, though.  I walked Jude's parents and J.P. to Jude's car, which they were driving home for us.

Jude and I sat and talked as we waited for 3 p.m. to arrive.  I began to get more and more nervous, the closer it got to 3 p.m.  Jude seemed to get calmer.  Finally, our nurse and the anesthesiologist came to get us.  I donned hospital scrubs and followed the gurney down to surgery.  Just like last time, they left me sitting in a chair by myself, in the hall, while they gave Jude and epidural and prepped her for surgery.  Waiting for Roseann to come get me was the longest half hour of my life.  That much I remembered from last time.

I walked into the operating room with Roseann, which was bustling with activity.  I walked over to Jude and spoke a few words to her.  Her face was a picture of concentration.  I remembered that from last time, as well.  There was a lot of chatter amongst the surgical staff and, occasionally, Roseann asked Jude or me a question, just to break the tension.  At different times, things got quiet.  I'm not sure what made me more nervous - the constant chatter or the silence.

After what seemed to be eternity, Roseann told me to get my camera ready.  Suddenly, I heard a whimper, then a cry and there he was, our second son.  7 pounds, 7 ounces and 19 inches long, born at 3:50 a.m.  I looked at Jude and told her I loved her, my eyes filled with tears of joy and relief.  She was crying a bit, too.

Unlike last time around, a nurse cleaned our son up right there in the operating room, as opposed to the nursery.  After what seemed like a second eternity, the three of us went to a recovery room.  A nurse kept a close eye on our son, as he was grunting quite a bit.  Evidently, that can be a sign of fluid in the lungs, which isn't uncommon for c-section babies.  Soon, that cleared up for the most part and we were moved to a room on the 7th floor around 8 p.m.

Memories of J.P. as a newborn flooded back throughout the night, as our nurse (Angela) came in and out to bring our son to Jude when he appeared to be hungry.  We were pleasantly surprised that he was able to latch on and breastfeed twice, once of almost 30 minutes.  With J.P., it didn't happen quite as easily.

So, here we are again.  Blessed by God beyond belief with another perfect son.  Jude's recovering, slowly but surely.  And our second son just spent his first full day on this earth, loved by his parents and his big brother.

Now, about the name . . .

The Village

Last night, about 7:00 p.m., Jude drank a glass of cranberry juice and went upstairs to do a "kick count," because she hadn't felt the baby moving as much as normal.  When I checked on her 30 minutes or so later, she still wasn't comfortable with what she was feeling.  With very little discussion, we decided to make the quick drive over to Baptist Hospital to get her checked out.

This is the amazing part.

I called our friends, Jon and Carley Meade - Carley, of course, is J.P.'s longtime nanny - and asked if there was any way Carley could come over and, potentially, stay the night with J.P.  Keep in mind, it was Saturday night and I know they had plans.  Still, without a moment's hesitation, Carley said she would be right over.  And she was.

Within 15 minutes, Jon and Carley pulled up in front of our house as I was loading my truck with our suitcases, iPad, iPod, Kindle Fire, etc.  You know, just in case.  Although Jude and I thanked them profusely, Jon and Carley acted like it was no big deal.  J.P., of course, was excited to see them, although he could tell something was up.  I hooked up Jon with a pot of beef stew I had made and off we went.

It took us a few minutes to get admitted to the hospital, but once Jude had completed the paperwork we were whisked back to a labor and delivery room.  A nurse came in, spoke to us, then Jude go undressed in the bathroom.  She called to me and I got up and walked to the bathroom, then opened the door.

"Look at this," she said.  "It's ridiculous."  She was referring to her belly, protruding way, way out and hanging very low.  "Can you believe this?" she asked.  I just laughed, then remarked that it looked like her belly had grown larger than it was that morning.  She laughed, too.  She looked beautiful and took a couple of photos with my iPhone.

The nurse quickly found our son's heartbeat, loud and strong, as usual.  Prayers answered yet again.  Within an hour or so, we were released from the hospital and we drove home.  Carley and Jon were just about to put J.P. to bed, so we got to say goodnight to him.  Afterwards, we came downstairs to the kitchen and talked with Carley and Jon for a while before they left.

Here's the thing.  We can't do this alone.  That's why we're so lucky - so blessed - to have friends like Carley and Jon.  They're the best.  I can't thank them enough for their friendship, love and support over the past 4 years.  They're family.  They really are.

Tonight, I went to the gym about 9 p.m., after we put J.P. to bed, to run on the treadmill.  It was kind of peaceful, as I was the only person there.  After I finished, I saw that I had received several texts from friends and former clients wishing Jude and me well on Tuesday morning.  The fact that we have so many people thinking about us, pulling for us and praying for us means the world to me.

Sort of Pregnant

My beautiful wife, a little more than 36 hours before she gives birth to our second son.

The Loves of My Life

My wife and my son.  How lucky am I?

Snow Day

Well, not really.

Just before we left for church this morning, the rain changed to snow and J.P. excitedly watched out the window as giant snowflakes fell from the sky.  Unfortunately, the temperature stayed around 33 or 34 degrees, as a result of which the snow changed back to rain within a few minutes.

Here's a couple of photos of Jude and J.P. catching snowflakes on their tongues.

Final Approach

It's late, I'm tired.  Worn out, really, but that's nothing compared to how Jude feels, I know.  Foolishly, I scheduled 9 mediations in 10 days leading up to taking a couple of weeks off of work, beginning Monday, to spend time with Jude, J.P. and our new son.  I worked past 8 p.m. Monday, to 5:30 p.m. Tuesday and to 6:15 p.m. tonight, mediating cases each day.  Fortunately, I was able to help the parties and their attorneys settled all 3 cases, but I'm spent.  Still, I've got to find the energy to mediate two more cases, tomorrow and Friday.

Again, poor planning by me to not allow myself some time to wind things down at work before our new son arrives.  Nothing to do now but fight through and make the best of it.

All I have to do, though, is look to Jude for inspiration.  She's my rock, my best friend, my partner and my hero.  She's the best person I know, bar none.  Her work ethic is unsurpassed, as evidenced by the fact she's working (at Mayor Dean's and Governor Haslam's offices, respectively) through Friday, as opposed to taking a few days off before our new son arrives.  I know she's worn out - physically and emotionally - yet she rarely ever complains.  She's beautiful.  8 + months pregnant and more beautiful every day, even though she doesn't feel that way.  My girl, my lovely wife.

I want this baby so much for her.  She's sacrificed so much to give me another son and to give J.P. a brother.  Every day - literally - I pray to God for her pregnancy to go well, for her to be healthy and for our son to be born without any complications or issues.  With all my heart, I just want her to be okay and for our son to be okay.  In my lifetime, I have never wanted anything so badly.  I haven't.

Jude's strength, resolve and determination - her very will - are something to behold.  I'm in awe of her.

Tonight, before she went to sleep, as we lay in bed together, I put my hand on her stomach.  Quietly, I talked to my son, told him I couldn't wait to meet him and also told him his big brother has so much to teach him.  I could feel him moving, almost in response to my voice.  I just want to hold him in my arms and know Jude is okay and that he is okay.  It's not a lot, but it's everything.  I'm asking for a small thing,  but I'm asking for a miracle.        

Hootie

Yesterday, Jude had to leave early for work so J.P. and I ate breakfast together in the kitchen.  I was playing "jukebox," selecting random songs from my iPod and cueing them to what he thought of them.  I've always liked doing that - even back to college when I lived in the fraternity house and probably had 200+ albums.  The best part now is I have a captive audience in J.P.

Anyway, I played "Hold My Hand," Hootie and the Blowfish's breakout hit from long, long ago.  How long ago?  I'll get to that in a minute.

J.P. had me play the song several times, as he does when he likes a new song.  I got the Kappa Sigma paddle down from the wall in the kitchen where it hangs and played pretend guitar.  J.P. got tickled and as he laughed, spit out the milk he was drinking, which only made him (and me) laugh even harder.  There I stood, on a step stool in the kitchen, a 45-year old man with my 3 1/2 year old son, listening, laughing and singing along to Hootie.  Oh, did I mention the part where I have another son coming in about 10 days?

If it's true that you're as young as your feel - or in my case, act - then I'm going to be fine with two boys under the age of 5, I think.

Now, back to Hootie and the Blowfish and that song.  After I dropped J.P. off at school, I googled it.  "Hold My Hand" was released in July 1994.  1994!  17 + years ago.  I was 28 years old  That started me thinking - what was I doing in 1994, when that song first hit?  Well, I had just graduated from law school and was working at Manier, Herod, Hollabaugh & Smith in Nashville.  I was living at home, I believe, or I might have just moved into my first house.

I couldn't help but smile, as I wondered what my 28 year old self would have said if someone had told him he would be listening to Hootie's "Hold My Hand" 17 years later, in a kitchen of a house in downtown Nashville, laughing and singing along with his 3 1/2 year old son, a second son due in 10 days.  I'm guessing my 28 year old self wouldn't have believed it.

And you know what?  I wouldn't change a thing.  Not one damn thing.

Goodbye Rumours

It's hard, sometimes, to say goodbye to something that can't say goodbye to you.

Rumours Wine Bar in 12South is closing tonight, a victim of a greedy landowner and a developer who has no understanding of the neighborhood and what will and will not work.  But that's another story.  Tonight, I want to write about Rumours and how sad I am that it's closing.  What makes it especially sad is that my friends - Jenn, Christie and Tammy - are being forced out by their landlord just when the bar, their dream, is finally hitting its stride.  In other words, it's not a case of a bar closing due to a lack of business.  Instead, Rumours is being forced to close to make way for a large residential/retail development.  In fact, Rumours is going to be torn down to allow for parking.

That's right - a neighborhood bar and restaurant that's been a significant part of the fabric of my life is going to be razed to make room for a parking lot.  What bullshit.

So many, many happy memories.

I remember the Sunday night J.P. and I met Hal Humphreys at Rumours for dinner.  Our friend and chef, Michael (formerly the owner of "Mirror," also in 12South), was cooking and Jenn was tending bar.  It was the first or second Sunday the bar was open, so we had the place to ourselves.  It was one of those nights that just organically - magically even - turns out perfectly.  Michael invited J.P. into the kitchen while he cooked our dinner (I had an exquisite line caught salmon dish) and fed him apples.  Hal and I sat at the corner table, drank wine and talked to Jenn.  I've got great photos of J.P. in Hal's lap, smiling and laughing.

I remember the December night in 2010 when I hosted my law firm's Christmas Dinner and Party at Rumours.  We reserved the entire bar for a couple or hours, then had the back room to ourselves for dinner.  We drank a lot - and I mean a lot - of wine and had a great evening.

I remember the night Hal and I went to a Nashville Sounds game, then ended up on the patio at Rumours.  Long after closing time, Christie sat on the patio with Hal and me, ringing out bottle after bottle of wine.  It was a beautiful summer night and we hung out, talked and watched traffic pass by on 12th Avenue.

I remember the night I met my former paralegal, Tracie Carter, at Rumour's.  It was the first time she had seen J.P., who was less than a year old and slept in the stroller (the "City Elite") as we had a glass of wine.

I remember the night we celebrated my birthday in the back room at Rumours with my mom and Jude's parents.  Jenn surprised me with an ice cream cake Jude had left with her earlier in the day.

I remember celebrating Kim Green's 40th birthday at Rumours.

I remember the night Lori Reid and I had a glass of wine with Alison Prestwood, a recent graduate from the Nashville School of Law.  Shortly thereafter, we hired Alison and she works at my law firm.

I remember taking my mom to dinner at Rumours.  We sat at a two top table to the left of the bar and had  a wonderful meal and a glass of wine.  I enjoyed getting her our of her suburban bubble and into my neighborhood for dinner.

I remember many, many nights I met Hal at Rumours for a glass of wine after work, on my way home.

I remember the night when Doug Brown was in town and Mike Matteson and I ended up with him at Rumours.  We sat in the front of the bar, by the door and finished off our night by drinking a lot of white wine.

So many happy memories.  For me, Rumours isn't a place.  It's a feeling or something like a feeling.  Something abstract.  Jenn and Christie are going to try to open another Rumours, perhaps in the Gulch, and I hope that happens.  I also hope the new Rumours has the same feeling the old Rumours had.  I'm not sure how realistic that is but I hope it works out that way.

Cheers.

A Ride to Remember - Volume II

I've been here before and it turned out okay.

That's what I kept telling myself yesterday, my heart pounding, as I drove up I-65 north to Baptist Hospital.  Around noon, I had called Jude to see how her day was going, only to learn she had come home from work because she wasn't feeling well.  What was most disturbing was she hadn't felt the baby moving much all morning.  She was laying down, trying to get a "kick count."

"Forget the kick count," I said.  "Call Roseann (our doctor) and see what she says you should do."  When Jude immediately agreed to call Roseann, I really began to worry, given that she's probably the only person on the face of the earth more stubborn than me.  Within minutes, Jude called me back and said Roseann's nurse, Gena, has told her to go to the hospital.  "Here we go," I thought.

I cancelled my afternoon appointments, got in my truck and immediately got stuck in traffic trying to leave downtown Franklin and get to the interstate.  When I finally got on I-65, I accelerated rapidly, then looked in my rearview mirror and saw a City of Franklin police cruiser behind me in the far right lane (deja vous all over again, I thought).  I slowed down and breathed a sigh of relief as the police cruiser exited at Cool Springs Boulevard.

I saw Jude's Honda Pilot on the 3rd floor of the parking garage at Baptist Hospital when I arrived and I parked nearby.  I walked inside and stopped by the registration desk, where the attendant quickly gave me Jude's room number and waved me back to triage.  As I walked back, I silently prayed for Jude and our baby, asking (begging, really) for them to be okay.

As I arrived at the door to the hospital room she was in, I paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and walked in.  The first sound I heard was our baby's heartbeat, loud and strong.  And what a beautiful sound it was!  I smiled at Jude and the nurse, exhaled and relaxed just a bit.  Together, we watched the fetal heart monitor and saw that Jude was having some contractions (which is pretty normal, actually, at this stage of the game).

After 45 minutes or so, we were discharged from the hospital.  Soon.  Very soon, I think, this baby is going to make his debut.  And I suspect it will be before February 21.