A year ago today you came into the world and took your first breath. How perfect you were, my 10lb 7 oz giant of a boy. Yet how tiny you seemed. I was terrified when it hit me, the responsibility of my job from there on out. To protect you. To nurture you. I felt suddenly so inadequate. You were my dream of dreams, my miracle boy. How I yearned for you, for all my life. How amazing it is to see you now, the bright and beautiful boy you are growing into. Your personality unfolds before my eyes. You have a fine sense of humor. Such a twinkle in your eyes. And your smile! Oh, your smile! You light up the room. Your giggles are a joyful noise. You have so much fun being you. And I have so much fun watching you be you. You are very smart, my love. I can watch you learn. I can literally see the comprehension dawn on your face, your beautiful face. You are stubborn, dear one. Just like your dad. Tenacious, just like your mom. Are they not the same thing! We are all that way, aren’t we I will do my best to teach you the things you need to know. I will do my best to give you the best of me, and keep from you the worst of me. I want so much for you! I want you to be well adjusted, to have all that you need, to appreciate life and simple pleasures. I don’t want to spoil you. I want you to be gracious and kind, to think of others as well as yourself. I want you to be strong and courageous, but wise. I hope I can teach you these things. I hope that you never grow to resent me. I hope that you will always know how much you are wanted, how much you are loved, and how much you belong here, in this world. I love you, my precious one. I love you.
A year ago today, my life changed in the most wonderful way.
Happy Birthday to my beautiful boy!!
A year ago, I got to see my precious child, before he was born. It was an amazing and wonderful thing that brought immeasurable peace and joy to my heart.
Peek-a-Boo!
I see you!…or rather, forward motion.
What a day. What a week. This one wiped me out. So much work. So little sleep. My brain is like goo. I had all these great intentions of getting other things done this week. My poor little love bug is all sniffly and under the weather. There are two new kids at the daycare. Carriers, the both of them. I’m certain of it. It’s okay, I guess. Some exposure is good for building a strong immune system. And his is fairly strong. He doesn’t like sweets, so I have to be very creative in attempting to dose him with infant decongestant. He hasn’t been sleeping very well, either. Poor little guy. He’s normally such a happy boy. It’s hard to see him hurting. Those tears are so heartbreaking.
What a face. He has so many new expressions, and they are so funny! He’s trying to be a tough guy. But I know better. He’s a love.
Weekend plan: get some SLEEP!
His favorite things are cardboard and paper. Notice in the box he’s holding his favorite postcard. When the mail comes, it’s mostly junk mail. Look! I say to him. Some mail came for you! He rips it to shreds with glee, and tries to eat it as well. I am vigilant and remove it before he ingests any. How he loves doing what I’m doing! If I’m reading my mail, he wants to read his mail. His postcard came from a real estate duo who paid a little extra for that marketing edge, for it is no ordinary postcard. No, indeed. This clever postcard is laminated. We treasure this item in our household and are quite careful not to throw it out. He has gotten many miles of safe reading and chewing pleasure from it. In retrospect, I still have mild regrets at the hundreds of dollars wasted spent preparing for the arrival of my first child. When all that was needed was cardboard and junk mail.
What a day. The strawberry broke. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of so much blood. I knew there would be blood, but how can it not be a shock to look at your baby and see their face completely covered in bright red blood, with more blood streaming steadily, on and on It bled for nearly TWO HOURS. It completely saturated a 16″x16″ microfiber towel. We were on our way to the in-laws for a birthday celebration. I don’t know if he rubbed his eyes or rubbed his face against the seat belt shoulder strap. He was asleep and it happened in the blink of an eye. We went to the emergency room. I was distressed that he was gushing so much blood and didn’t know what to do, since it wouldn’t stop bleeding. It’s not a bit like what you see on shows like ER or Gray’s Anatomy. It took nearly two hours to see a doctor. The triage nurse saw him in the first 20 minutes, took his weight and blood pressure and told me to keep on putting pressure on it, just as I was already doing. He bled on and on. He fell asleep. Still bleeding. At least he held still better when he was sleeping. He didn’t like me holding the towel to his face and kept squirming while he was awake. It stopped bleeding just before the doctor saw him. Diagnosis Bleeding Hemangioma. Yes, I know. Treatment Plan A. If it happens again, apply pressure until the bleeding stops. It will eventually heal on its own. Plan B. Anesthetize and Cauterize – inject a needle that close to my baby’s eye, to numb the area, then burn him and leave a lifetime scar We chose Plan A. During last Monday’s checkup our doctor had told me that it could break open and it would bleed, and it would probably grow back, and eventually it would diminish and disappear on its own. She just didn’t mention how much it would bleed, and what to do if it did. I was expecting something I could put a bandaid on. I did tell Mr. Man that the treatment is to wait it out, that it would eventually heal on its own. He wasn’t too impressed with that solution, but in the ER, hearing the doctor pose Plan A and Plan B, he was amenable to Plan A. Go figure. (But I’m glad that he was no longer adamant about more drastic action such as Plan B.)
We made it to the birthday celebration an hour and a half late. We have another new mom in the family. Her little guy is 2 weeks old and she herself is looking fabulous, as though she’d never even been pregnant. She’s had no trouble at all nursing. I’m so jealous. Really. The little guy knew just what to do. He latches like a pro and drains her efficiently, in 10-15 minutes. TEN MINUTES! I remember our struggle, where Buggaboo would chew me raw for 30-40 minutes at a time, every two hours, and hardly draw anything out. I’d have to pump afterwards, another 15-20 minutes. Clean up the bottles and get them ready for the next round. 5-10 minutes. Then do it all again. Do the math. I spent over 12 hours a day trying to feed my baby. How I longed to be a breast-feeding mother! I tried SO hard, with nipple shields, a tiny feeding tube along side the nipple, or against my finger. There were so many obstacles. The breasts were too big, which made it difficult to position him. The nipples were too big for his sweet little mouth. He couldn’t get a good latch. The milk didn’t come in well and he didn’t have the patience to try to draw it out, and I just didn’t produce enough milk. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so emotionally difficult had I not had my heart set on being a breast-feeding mother. And to see this new mom and her little guy sail so smoothly into it! I’m so happy for them, truly, and surprised at my concurrent feelings of jealousy. In the self-pity confines of my mind, my selfish thoughts are why couldn’t it have been that easy for me
I feel drained.
First I scared my mom by kicking and wiggling and nearly getting myself stuck in my bed. It’s a comfy bed, but I think I’m getting to be too big for it. It’s an Amby hammock, and it’s supposed to be good for my development, but honestly, I like to snuggle up next to my mom more than I like to hang out in this comfy hammock.
Later, I took a shower and got all nice and clean. I’m not quite sure what I think of this water business.
Then I got all snuggly buggly before it was time to get dressed.
We went to my mom’s company picnic today. It would have been much more exciting if I were a little bit older. It was hot outside and I mostly slept, but I did make sure I urped all over myself and my mommy a few times. When I woke up, I got my picture taken with Daisy Duck (but that picture is still in my daddy’s camera). I also got this super cool froggy tattoo. My mama likes froggies, and so do I.
