This morning as I drove to the hospital I thought for the very first time “Yay, I’m going to see my son Charlie where he happens to be living now!” Despite my endless gratitude for the incredible life-saving expertise of the staff of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, I admit that for the past 19 days every time I would spot the rising towers of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in the distance I would feel a dread in the pit of my stomach as if I were approaching my imprisoned loved one in the castle of the Wicked Witch of the West. Today I just felt glad to be going there and grateful that he was getting such exquisite care.
I had a particularly tough week emotionally which finally propelled me to reach out for some additional help. I’m seeing a new therapist on Monday and a doctor on Thursday to discuss the possibility of some temporary meds. I’ve never taken any anti-depressants or anti-anxiety medications in my life but every professional I’ve spoken to has strongly agreed that this might be a good time to consider it. Maybe I shouldn’t announce that publicly. Will this kill any chance I might have to run for high office? (That’s a 1972-era McGovern/Eagleton joke that no one under 50 will understand!) It’s funny—there are days when I feel like this is all way too private to write about and other days where I feel compelled to do so—going through these difficult events is certainly nothing to be ashamed of.
Speaking of brain chemistries and disclosure, I alluded a few posts ago to Kendall being back in the hospital. She has encouraged me to come clean that she was in the mental health facility at Cedars. She had a very hard time after her initial release four days after delivering the twins. Between the the powerful meds they pumped into her to try to stop the contractions (none of which worked), the heavy dose of steroids they gave her to help develop the babies’ lungs (the steroids needed 48 hours to work but the babies came 45 minutes later), the grief over losing our son Oliver and the anxiety about Charlie’s condition, the hormones coursing through her system, the drugs given her during the emergency surgery, and many other factors, she ended up having her first manic episode in many years. Although Kendall had gone through several undiagnosed manic episodes in her twenties, this was the first time she was hospitalized and she faced her worst fear with amazing strength and courage. She spent nine days in the hospital and is now doing great work in the outpatient program. Kendall wanted me to mention what happened in order to give encouragement to people in similar circumstances who may be reading this and to urge them to get the help they need no matter how difficult it seems at the time. That’s the lesson I’ve finally learned for myself even though I don’t have a diagnosable condition like Kendall’s bipolar disease.
It’s fantastic having Kendall back at home and we’re starting to develop our new routines in our new post-trauma lives. I can’t wait to get back to work and have more and more moments of normalcy. It’s hard to believe that Charlie will be three weeks old on Monday. Our big meeting with the doctors this week went well. They don’t candy coat a thing in the NICU, which is as it should be, but we were thrilled to hear that Charlie’s chances of survival at this point are excellent. He’s recovering from his surgery and God-willing will have no other such incidents to put extra stress on his developing systems. We met with the neurologist who has been monitoring his brain bleeds and he again explained the range of possible disabilities that Charlie may be facing but they just don’t know yet what will happen. As his main doctor said, “sometimes the babies forget to read the textbooks to see how they’re supposed to behave.”
Kendall and I remain grateful for every kind word and act of compassion. An amazing woman that I only know through blogging (who lost her own son earlier this year and had spent a lot of time in the NICU) started a site to facilitate our neighbors’ offers to bring us meals two to three times a week. That has been so helpful. I’ve been reading every comment and email I’ve received but I admit I haven’t yet been able to crack the pile of cards we’ve received in the mail (Kendall has and I will) so for now please accept my thanks here and know that we so appreciate every single thought and prayer aimed in our direction.
Some people have asked about Charlie’s Hebrew name and that’s coming very soon (Oliver's, too), even though it won’t be accompanied by a bris just yet. Our rabbi will be coming with us to the NICU this week to officiate over that.
I have been so completely out of it for the past three weeks
that I am in danger of losing my credentials as a crazy pop culture blogger
who can write endless posts about everything from Julie Newmar to “The Waltons.” But don't worry (or maybe you should worry!), I’ll be back at it. For the first time in memory I have no idea what movies
are out except for the new “Star Trek” which I’m dying to see. And I swear, as
God is my witness, Charlie was doing the Vulcan salute with his little fingers
when I saw him earlier which was based on the hand
gesture used by the Jewish kohanim priests in ancient times.
Live long and prosper, kid!
Danny, glad to know that things are going good and you and Kendall are both hanging in there. I will continue to send good healthy thoughts your way! Please take care of yourself.
XO...Arlene
Posted by: Arlene Silverman Andresen | May 16, 2009 at 08:44 PM
Danny, The strength and bravery shown by your family is an inspiration.
Posted by: Les Neudorf | May 16, 2009 at 08:52 PM
Danny,
I don't think a day passes that I don't think of you and the stress on you and your wife. Someone very wise once told me that the first step in returning to normalcy after a trauma is to pretend things are normal. I don't know if that's even possible for you, but going through the motions -- even if your heart and head are elsewhere -- seems to be a key.
Stay strong and allow others in.
Your friend,
Ann Brenoff
Posted by: Ann Brenoff | May 16, 2009 at 09:17 PM
Danny, what a wonderful and honest post. I'm glad you and Kendall are getting the help you need. (By the way, Ativan is a miracle drug.) I'm so happy to know the doctor gave you some good news.
Love,
Julie
Posted by: Julie R. | May 16, 2009 at 09:23 PM
Our love to all of you.
xo
Frank, Laurent & Oliver
Posted by: Frank, Laurent, & Oliver | May 16, 2009 at 09:30 PM
I had a "normal" labor and delivery - and the crazy amount of hormones blasting through my body made me crazy. What I did that was stupid on my part was ignore it for nine months. NINE.
So bless you BOTH for getting needed help. Xanax and Zoloft are gifts from God as far as I'm concerned.
(friend of Heather's)
Posted by: Dawn | May 16, 2009 at 09:48 PM
Good for you and Kendall -- there is no shame in getting help when you need it, and the trauma you've both been through is something ANYONE would need help to deal with.
Glad Charlie is doing so well, and he's lucky to have you and Kendall as his daddy and mommy.
Posted by: Kitty | May 16, 2009 at 09:55 PM
Live long and prosper, kid -- INDEED!
Thanks for your honesty about this terribly difficult, traumatic and painful time in the lives of your family. It is often difficult enough to be honest with oneself and what one needs, but to be able to share those truths with strangers is simply...admirable and inspiring.
Stay well.
Posted by: Pearl | May 16, 2009 at 09:55 PM
Wow, your honesty, courage, strength and absolute love for your family really is inspiring. You all will be fine :)
Posted by: Sarah | May 16, 2009 at 10:01 PM
Danny, Kendall, my heart goes out to you both. I so respect you for doing whatever it takes to take care of yourselves, for you and your son. Your story of what Kendall has been going through brought me to tears. You two need a break, I am looking forward to the post when Charlie comes home... thinking of you all. I will have my family include you in their prayers... hugs, Elaine
Posted by: Elaine D'Ippolito | May 17, 2009 at 12:49 AM
Sending you all a lot of love from new york...
Posted by: Martha | May 17, 2009 at 01:03 AM
I am amazed that in the midst of her own pain, Kendall thought about how her experience might help others. She's going to be an amazing mother to Charlie.
And you...I don't know you in-person Danny, but I have so much admiration and respect for you as a person and as a writer. I think as hard as it is for you to write about this, it is a blessing to others. Not just to those who may face the same, but all of us. What your family is going through is a stark, sad, and beautiful reminder of what is really important.
Thank you and Kendall for reaching through your pain and sharing these intimate stories with us.
Posted by: Jane | May 17, 2009 at 02:25 AM
Dear Danny,
How courageous you and Kendall are! I am terribly grateful that you are sharing your story with us.
By the way - Star Trek is fabulous in my opinion!!! Am looking forward to the days ahead, when you are able to see the movie and write one of your amazing posts about it!
May you all live long and prosper - indeed!
Posted by: tamarika | May 17, 2009 at 04:01 AM
There's no such thing as 'normal'. Especially now. You just reach out to grasp whatever tools are offered to you. Medication is just one of those tools. The trained and objective listening of a good therapist is another. As is music, and solitude, and bloody voodoo - doesn't matter. There is no 'best' or 'better' way to become 'more normal' in this. All that matters is that you reach out to grasp what's in front of you.
I don't know you, nor Kendall, and had only heard of you when the twins were born. And so when I sign off saying that I'm sending you love, that feels, a bit strange. But there's no other word for how this feels, to read your writing having gone through such a similar event. For you I wish I were a witch, so I could scoop up the molecules in the air that draw positivity, and then make them into some concentrated sort of fireball of light and strength and shoot it your way.
But it makes me sound less weird to just say 'thinking of you, sending love'. And so there you have it.
(waves arms, utters incantation)
Kate
Posted by: sweetsalty kate | May 17, 2009 at 06:36 AM
Danny, the 'Live long and prosper' sign that little Charlie was making is also the sign the Cohanim make when making the three fold blessing: May G-d bless you and keep you; May G-d shine His countenance upon you and be gracious unto you; May G-d lift His countenance to you and grant you peace. It's also the blessing parents give their children Friday night before Kiddush. I had you, Kendall and Charlie in my heart Friday evening when I blessed my children.
On a lighter note, my youngest son speaks Klingon. When Nachman was about 9 mos. or so I was changing his diaper and as I closed up his pants he smiled and said: Kuplah! For the uninitiated, that means thank you.
Yakira (Larry's gal)
Posted by: Yakira Heistand | May 17, 2009 at 06:39 AM
I'm so glad that you and Kendall are seeking help now. With Charlie still in the hospital, it's the perfect time to get all of these emotions sorted out so you'll both be fully present when he comes home. And anti-anxiety/anti-depressant meds are your friends. :) They won't magically make everything ok but they will put a much-needed ceiling and floor to your feelings.
Go see Star Trek-- it'll be a fantastic, Vulvan distraction for a few hours.
xo,
Sarah
Posted by: Sarah | May 17, 2009 at 07:12 AM
Ooops... I meant VULCAN, not vulvan... all this baby talk... oy. * blushes *
Posted by: Sarah | May 17, 2009 at 07:12 AM
Danny, I have just caught up with your news through the Facebook link. I am overwhelmed, at a loss for words except to say please know that you are all now, and will continue to be, in our thoughts, our prayers, our hearts every day.
Jan
Posted by: Jan | May 17, 2009 at 08:45 AM
i had no idea, and i'm so sorry to hear about oliver.
all my love, and we'll be thinking about you a ton. xo
Posted by: sara corine | May 17, 2009 at 09:47 AM
Danny, your writing amazes, inspires and gratifies all of us who are connected to you. I agree that asking for help is a strength. Hey, if it makes ya feel any better, Noah is on three daily meds and I often wonder how we could do this life w/ him if it were not for the miracle of modern pharmacology! One breath in the the next breath out, that's how you do it, one moment at a time. Love, peace and Healing to you all! Susie
Posted by: susie specter | May 17, 2009 at 10:11 AM
You all remain in my thoughts each and every day. Human strength and resilience is a great miracle to witness.
Posted by: Pam G | May 17, 2009 at 11:34 AM
Danny,
Thank you for your very moving writing about everything Kendall and you and Oliver and Charlie are going through.
We will continue to have you all in our thoughts and prayers every day.
Andrew, Rosalinda, Elisa, Sophia, Joseph and Gina
Posted by: Andrew Forsythe | May 17, 2009 at 01:24 PM
Dear Danny and Kendall,
You are both amazing people letting it "all hang out" for all to share! May you continue to have the strength (along with miracle meds like Paxil, etc.) and "stay the course" until your Charlie is well enough to come home to his two loving parents.
Love always,
Marilyn
Posted by: Marilyn Molnar | May 17, 2009 at 04:18 PM
Dear Danny:
I admire both the courage and strength that you and Kendall are willing to share with all of us.
Even when you deliver a child under "normal" circumstances its overwhelming, so given what you 2 have gone through, I think it is quite understandable that you need some extra help to get through all that has gone on.
You 2 together with Charlie and Leah are an amazing family and when he becomes a Bar Mitzvah, you will just look back at this time and say, we got through that, we can make it through your adolesence no problem.
You are in our thoughts and prayers.
Be well always.
Kathy
Posted by: Katmama | May 17, 2009 at 05:27 PM
Dear Danny,
It's great to read a post that sounds more like your old self. I suppose you've been wandering in a fog for the past 3 weeks. But, I see that it's starting to clear. You're stronger than you think. All the best to you and Kendall, and Leah, and Charlie.
Posted by: Gordon | May 17, 2009 at 05:49 PM
Once again, a brave and beautiful post. Kendall is such an amazing woman to deal with all of this and know when to get help for herself. I think of your family often and wish you all the best. It's so wonderful to see how supportive you are all of each other.
Posted by: churlita | May 17, 2009 at 08:51 PM
Danny, I was so thrilled to read that Charlie's chances at life are excellent, and then when you got to "Live Long and Prosper" I burst into tears. Yes! Yes! Of course! Of course Leonard Nimoy stole or borrowed that gesture from the rabbis, and yes, that's what Charlie is signing in the picture! Our rabbi used to raise both hands and say the blessing with such warmth . . . you would have loved him, warm hearted, open minded, marched with Dr. King AND made friends with the old Georgia cattleman who lived next door to us in Florida who probably had a Confederate flag tattooed on his soul. There's a lot in this about hands and how much power they can beam. Go, Charlie . . . he seems visibly bigger and stronger even in the pictures.
Posted by: amba | May 17, 2009 at 10:39 PM
I'm thrilled to hear Charlie is doing well and has a good prognosis. I'm equally happy you and Kendall are getting through this. There's no shame in seeking help when you need it. And I doubt anyone could think of a more appropriate time to reach out.
Take care of yourself--both of you. My thoughts and best wishes remain yours.
Posted by: jason | May 18, 2009 at 06:00 AM
Danny: Sending your family positive thoughts every single day.
Posted by: david | May 18, 2009 at 07:36 AM
Continuous thoughts and prayers. Strength for Charlie, you, Kendall, and Leah. Humbled by your challenges. Awed by your courage. And your honesty.
xoxo
Elaine
Posted by: Elaine Soloway | May 18, 2009 at 02:21 PM
Dear Danny,
I check your blog the first thing in the a.m. and the last thing at night. Thanks for keeping us up to date. I'm thrilled by Charlie's latest prognosis, and I'm glad that Kendall is now doing well. I can hardly wait to see all of you!
Love,
Cynthia
Posted by: Cynthia Reich | May 18, 2009 at 04:36 PM
I just stumbled on your blog this evening, and I wish there was something I could do to help. I bake a mean chocolate chip cookie (email me if you're interested). Other than that, though, please know that I'll be keeping you and your family in my thoughts.
Posted by: Nichole | May 18, 2009 at 08:06 PM
Danny, it's great that you and Kendall know how to get help when you need it -- and with what you've gone through, the only abnormal response would be not to need it. Many thanks to you and Kendall for your courage, and your kindness in thinking of others while going through your own crucible.
Posted by: Richard Lawrence Cohen | May 18, 2009 at 08:14 PM
Danny, there is little I can say that other people haven't said already. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Charlie and how he is doing. Having done the NICU myself, I can only tell you that my blessings are with your family and I am trying with all my heart to send the best vibes I can.
One thing that "might" make you feel better is that my daughter had brain bleeds as well, and we were told all sorts of horrible things that might happen to her. Some did, and with early intervention are long gone. Other things remain, but she's beautiful, she can do anything any other child can do, and the only long term issue is a learning disability. Not a great one, but in the grand schema of things she's PERFECT just as she is.
GIve Kendall a huge hug from me. As the mom of a bipolar kid, I know that the mania can be really frightening, but she did absolutely the right thing by seeking immediate help, as are you. This much stress can have long lasting health affects on you all, so even though Charlie is your top priority, don't forget to be good to yourselves, too.
Posted by: margalit | May 18, 2009 at 11:00 PM
Danny, I've been on antidepressants & antianxiety meds for a couple of years now. Coupled with therapy, it's been a huge help. I was always afraid of it. I can't imagine my life without it now.
When my mother was sick, I also sought counseling. She was sick for 13 months before we lost her. Too many people see therapy and meds as a cop out or a sign of weakness. For me, it's been a lifesaver.
If not for an objective outsider to see me through some very rough spots in my life, I don't know where I would've ended up.
You're in my thoughts through these trying times, Danny. Email me or call me (you've got my number) if you want to talk about this further.
G-d Bless, Danny.
Posted by: Wendi Goodman | May 19, 2009 at 12:10 PM
Just good ol' fashioned love, hugs and kisses are being sent your way, mixed with some prayer.....hope to hear soon the progress you are all making!!! We love you guys!!!
Posted by: Shawn Anderson | May 19, 2009 at 07:08 PM
My love my love to you all.
Every minute. Every day.
Sending love and light.
xxo,
lex
Posted by: Alexis Sanford | May 20, 2009 at 03:52 PM
Dear Danny and Kendall,
I hope you both are feeling stronger, and Im glad to see Charlie is able to tolerate food and is stable. I give you credit for getting help and being so honest about it. I dont know anyone who would not need something after all you two are going through. Stay well, Caren
Posted by: Caren | May 22, 2009 at 07:49 PM