Yes, I'm THAT mother.
When you get married, you believe that you're going to be with that man for the rest of your life. That's a satisfying feeling.
When you become a mother, you quickly begin to realize that the person you love more than anything, or anyone else, is the one you will have to let go of. I suddenly understand why that's so hard.
My little man is all of four months old. He smiles at me, and I adore him. Even when I'm in the foulest of moods, his smile makes me giggle and laugh. And suddenly I'm overwhelmed with jealousy of a woman that's probably in her cradle right now, or not even born yet - the woman that will take my son from me.
Do I want to have a Momma's boy? Heck, no! Do I want to have Howard from The Big Bang Theory, and have my son living at home into his 30's, doing all his laundry and cooking his food, regardless of his success? NO! That's pathetic. Do I suddenly understand the compulsion to allow your son to live with you into his 30's? Yes, I'm afraid so.
Which leads me to the unfortunate conclusion that I'm looney tunes, and I'm going to have to fight my impulses. I do not want to be the mother-in-law from hell. My mother-in-law has done exceptionally well at letting her boys go, and has been wonderful to me. She is like my third mom, actually (because I have both a mother and a stepmother who are very good to me as well).
Still, all of this? This desire to hold my son tight and make him stay a baby, while simultaneously standing proudly by as he grows (that stifling paradox of motherhood)? Makes me suddenly have so much more sympathy for you, Mrs. Wolowitz.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Four months
Dear TK,
You are now four months (and four days) old.
You were born just before one of the hottest summers I have ever known; it has been over 100 degrees almost every day for months. This week feels like the beginning of fall because the temperatures have dropped to the 80's. Oddly enough, school starts today.
Yesterday we had a huge, if very short, summer rain storm. It was just like the ones I used to take your Aunt Kelsey out in to play when our parents were at work. We'd rush out, play in the rain and the water slushing down the street, and then rush inside and throw our wet clothes in the dryer. I can't wait until you're old enough to do it, too.
I really look forward to your growing up, but at the same time, it's sad. I love your tiny baby faces.
I know these expressions won't last forever.
On the 6th, you started making chatty baby sounds, and babbling noises. You still only do it mostly in the morning when you're in a really good mood, but it's so adorable. You're smiling at us, and finally showing us that you know us. You squeal and squee and make a sound that your Daddy says sounds like a monkey noise (hoo, hoo, hoo!).
You have just reached the stage where you can hold your head up, and the Bumbo has become pretty fun. You also finally enjoy your swing, much to our relief. Before now, you demanded with your tiny fists and screams to be held around the clock.
Nana just finished her first visit. It was wonderful spending time with my Mom. I honestly was scared to have her visit for almost two weeks - I get tired of pretty much anyone in that much time - but she was a wonderful guest. She was so loving with you, and I learned so much about who I am from spending more time with her. I have to admit I got a little spoiled, having a third person to help so we (your Daddy and I, at least) could get enough sleep.
Speaking of sleep, you slept through the night last night for maybe the second time. I flew out of bed this morning at 5am to make sure you were alive. Then you went and slept for another hour, until I was so hopped up on coffee that we bounced around the room together like bunnies.
And, for all that even now you seem to have more energy than I do already, I am amazed by you. Aside from the fact that you're still smaller than other four month olds, people would honestly never know you're a preemie. It's a miracle, and I couldn't be more grateful for it. No one but other preemie parents (and perhaps the NICU nurses) will ever understand what a real miracle it is. Above all, I will give you those extra kisses every day and night for as long as you will let me, because I am so, so grateful for every day we have together, my baby.
Love,
Mamma
You are now four months (and four days) old.
You were born just before one of the hottest summers I have ever known; it has been over 100 degrees almost every day for months. This week feels like the beginning of fall because the temperatures have dropped to the 80's. Oddly enough, school starts today.
Yesterday we had a huge, if very short, summer rain storm. It was just like the ones I used to take your Aunt Kelsey out in to play when our parents were at work. We'd rush out, play in the rain and the water slushing down the street, and then rush inside and throw our wet clothes in the dryer. I can't wait until you're old enough to do it, too.
I really look forward to your growing up, but at the same time, it's sad. I love your tiny baby faces.
On the 6th, you started making chatty baby sounds, and babbling noises. You still only do it mostly in the morning when you're in a really good mood, but it's so adorable. You're smiling at us, and finally showing us that you know us. You squeal and squee and make a sound that your Daddy says sounds like a monkey noise (hoo, hoo, hoo!).
You have just reached the stage where you can hold your head up, and the Bumbo has become pretty fun. You also finally enjoy your swing, much to our relief. Before now, you demanded with your tiny fists and screams to be held around the clock.
Nana just finished her first visit. It was wonderful spending time with my Mom. I honestly was scared to have her visit for almost two weeks - I get tired of pretty much anyone in that much time - but she was a wonderful guest. She was so loving with you, and I learned so much about who I am from spending more time with her. I have to admit I got a little spoiled, having a third person to help so we (your Daddy and I, at least) could get enough sleep.
Speaking of sleep, you slept through the night last night for maybe the second time. I flew out of bed this morning at 5am to make sure you were alive. Then you went and slept for another hour, until I was so hopped up on coffee that we bounced around the room together like bunnies.
And, for all that even now you seem to have more energy than I do already, I am amazed by you. Aside from the fact that you're still smaller than other four month olds, people would honestly never know you're a preemie. It's a miracle, and I couldn't be more grateful for it. No one but other preemie parents (and perhaps the NICU nurses) will ever understand what a real miracle it is. Above all, I will give you those extra kisses every day and night for as long as you will let me, because I am so, so grateful for every day we have together, my baby.
Love,
Mamma
Monday, July 25, 2011
If ever anyone said it right.
This mother did. Her triplets were in NICU a fair bit longer than TK was, but what she writes on this post is like she's saying just what's in my heart:
From: http://jennandtonica.com/2011/07/one-more-kiss-goodnight/
"For all the nights I said goodnight through your plastic isolettes,
all the nights we spent apart,
all the nights I could only reach in and lay a gentle hand on your back,
all the nights you woke without your momma by your side,
all the nights I left without a kiss -
just one more kiss goodnight."
From: http://jennandtonica.com/2011/07/one-more-kiss-goodnight/
"For all the nights I said goodnight through your plastic isolettes,
all the nights we spent apart,
all the nights I could only reach in and lay a gentle hand on your back,
all the nights you woke without your momma by your side,
all the nights I left without a kiss -
just one more kiss goodnight."
3 months old: Letter# 2
Dear TK,
You have decided to no longer sleep. You have declared it in your loudest voice, and, as we often say, "Busy baby is busy", because that's what you are. Far too busy to be sleeping. You won't keep a pacifier in, when you so clearly want it - searching frantically for it when it's already in your mouth is one of the funniest things I've ever seen you do. You shake your head back and forth as fast as possible when it's in your mouth, searching like a fish. If I hadn't seen Ms. A doing the same thing a couple months before, I'd swear something was wrong with you, my little sillyhead.
You still startle yourself awake all the time, so I have to swaddle you, and then TIE you up with a second blanket to keep your arms in. You're so strong! My little preemie boy, who looked like you were having a huge fight the day after you were born, and has never stopped.
I've been watching you wave your hands around, because in spite of both wrapping you and tying your arms, you have freed them again. You are hunting for your pacifier again by waving your head around frantically with your mouth open. You may end up eating your Boppy pillow yet! You aren't using your hands to search yet, because you haven't figured out how to work them just yet. They're purely for throwing upward in disgust or surprise right now. I'm actually a little surprised at your patience sometimes. You've been at it for several minutes, and you haven't made a peep about it. Busy Baby is busy eating the pillow for now.
These days, we mostly want you to go to sleep. Shouldn't I be grateful for every second? Shouldn't I love even your crying, because it's a sign you're alive? Sometimes I am. Sometimes even watching you cry is cute. We worked so hard for you; we nearly lost you. Still, last night's screaming makes it hard to think anything's cute. I went to bed since it was Daddy's turn, and you screamed for over three hours. Your Daddy shushed you so loud that I woke up hearing it, and still you cried. I had to get up in the middle of the night to help. It made me super proud that you got quiet for me, and that I was able to put you to sleep, but I doubt Daddy felt that way.
After feeding and changing you, rocking to you and reading to you for hours, do you know what finally worked? I laid you down on your other side. You didn't WANT to be on the left, you WANTED to lie on the RIGHT side. For Heaven's sake, Mommy! Can't you read my mind yet?! I hear you shouting at me. When I finally got it right, instant calm. I birthed a strange and stubborn child.
Just when I thought you couldn't be more beautiful, your smiles have gotten so big I see dimples. Holy hell, the little man has these gorgeous dimples! Now if you'd only smile for more than a half second so I could get a photo! How could I possibly have wanted a girl when I have this beautiful boy? I did - I admit it - I wanted a girl until the moment I heard you were a boy. Now I can't imagine anyone better than you.
You have decided to no longer sleep. You have declared it in your loudest voice, and, as we often say, "Busy baby is busy", because that's what you are. Far too busy to be sleeping. You won't keep a pacifier in, when you so clearly want it - searching frantically for it when it's already in your mouth is one of the funniest things I've ever seen you do. You shake your head back and forth as fast as possible when it's in your mouth, searching like a fish. If I hadn't seen Ms. A doing the same thing a couple months before, I'd swear something was wrong with you, my little sillyhead.
You still startle yourself awake all the time, so I have to swaddle you, and then TIE you up with a second blanket to keep your arms in. You're so strong! My little preemie boy, who looked like you were having a huge fight the day after you were born, and has never stopped.
I've been watching you wave your hands around, because in spite of both wrapping you and tying your arms, you have freed them again. You are hunting for your pacifier again by waving your head around frantically with your mouth open. You may end up eating your Boppy pillow yet! You aren't using your hands to search yet, because you haven't figured out how to work them just yet. They're purely for throwing upward in disgust or surprise right now. I'm actually a little surprised at your patience sometimes. You've been at it for several minutes, and you haven't made a peep about it. Busy Baby is busy eating the pillow for now.
These days, we mostly want you to go to sleep. Shouldn't I be grateful for every second? Shouldn't I love even your crying, because it's a sign you're alive? Sometimes I am. Sometimes even watching you cry is cute. We worked so hard for you; we nearly lost you. Still, last night's screaming makes it hard to think anything's cute. I went to bed since it was Daddy's turn, and you screamed for over three hours. Your Daddy shushed you so loud that I woke up hearing it, and still you cried. I had to get up in the middle of the night to help. It made me super proud that you got quiet for me, and that I was able to put you to sleep, but I doubt Daddy felt that way.
After feeding and changing you, rocking to you and reading to you for hours, do you know what finally worked? I laid you down on your other side. You didn't WANT to be on the left, you WANTED to lie on the RIGHT side. For Heaven's sake, Mommy! Can't you read my mind yet?! I hear you shouting at me. When I finally got it right, instant calm. I birthed a strange and stubborn child.
Just when I thought you couldn't be more beautiful, your smiles have gotten so big I see dimples. Holy hell, the little man has these gorgeous dimples! Now if you'd only smile for more than a half second so I could get a photo! How could I possibly have wanted a girl when I have this beautiful boy? I did - I admit it - I wanted a girl until the moment I heard you were a boy. Now I can't imagine anyone better than you.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Two months: letter #1
In honor of Heather Armstrong at dooce.com I'm writing letters to my son. I've adored her for years for her letters to her daughter, Leta. Now, I finally get to do it, too.
Dear TK,
It's been two months since you arrived, oh so small and early. You looked like a cross between a beet and a miniature old man. At first, all I wanted in life was to put you back in - I missed having you close to me so badly. You kicked every day for 9 weeks before you were born, starting on Super Bowl Sunday. I'd like to think the game inspired you. It was more than 12 hours between the time we were separated and the time I saw you again, and I felt like a body part had been ripped off. They say that the birth of your child is the best day of your life, but yours was not. I've never seen your Daddy cry like that - he could have lost us both. The first time I got to hold you, three days later - that was the best day of my life (so far). For the first time in days, I felt peaceful again.
It's true what they say, you know - every mother thinks her child is the most beautiful. I do, too, but I think you really must be the most beautiful baby on Earth. You have such perfect little lips, and gorgeous big eyes, and a perfect little button nose.
Leaving you in hospital was really hard. It had it's good points - we got to get used to how you ate, and how to change you, etc, before you came home, and we got to sleep while doing so. We got to meet you just a little earlier, which means we get to have you as a baby just a little longer than everyone else.
However. Leaving you every day was heartbreaking. It hurt me so much to let the nurses give you the care that I should have been giving you. I went home and cried the first time I saw a nurse change your diaper, because that was my job, and I couldn't do it. I felt like I wasn't Mommy, I was just some lady who visited you. After that, I took over. I made certain I was the one who gave you your first bottle, and no one changed you or bathed you but me when I could be there to do so.
You are sleeping in a bassinet next to me and your Daddy right now, on his first Father's Day. You are our Sleepy Bean. You give Daddy trouble feeding you at night. I think it's because you're tired and not as hungry. Sometimes to sputter on your bottles, and then cry, but you do not cry much at all. It's amazing - I always thought you'd be really high strung, like me, but you are like me in that you don't stay angry for long. You cried loudly all the way home from your first pediatrician's appointment, but it only took ten seconds to calm you. Then you curled up on my chest and made me the happiest Mommy.
The doctor is amazed at how few problems you have, and I'm so proud of you. You are stronger than anyone in the NICU thought you'd ever be, and you've proven that you're no "Wimpy White boy", although both the second adjective and noun do apply.
I get to be home with you for a month. I wish it were longer, but one takes what one can. I love curling up on the couch with you in my arms, and I wish I had an amazing camera to take pictures of your face.
Even the dog, Popcorn, loves you. (I know, he loves everyone, but he REALLY loves you.) Every time I let him get close enough, he has to give you a lick. It's fun to watch him jump up beside your bassinet to look at you. He always has to check if you cry.
Best of all, all of our best friends have babies just about your age. You are the smallest, but you were supposed to be the youngest, so that's alright. I can't wait to watch you run around and play with them. I hope you love them as much as we love their parents.
I know I've never been so happy. I've wanted you for so very long, but you were worth the wait. Although I'm going to be sad to see this beautiful baby go, I know watching you grow up will be amazing.
Love,
Mamma
Dear TK,
It's been two months since you arrived, oh so small and early. You looked like a cross between a beet and a miniature old man. At first, all I wanted in life was to put you back in - I missed having you close to me so badly. You kicked every day for 9 weeks before you were born, starting on Super Bowl Sunday. I'd like to think the game inspired you. It was more than 12 hours between the time we were separated and the time I saw you again, and I felt like a body part had been ripped off. They say that the birth of your child is the best day of your life, but yours was not. I've never seen your Daddy cry like that - he could have lost us both. The first time I got to hold you, three days later - that was the best day of my life (so far). For the first time in days, I felt peaceful again.
It's true what they say, you know - every mother thinks her child is the most beautiful. I do, too, but I think you really must be the most beautiful baby on Earth. You have such perfect little lips, and gorgeous big eyes, and a perfect little button nose.
Leaving you in hospital was really hard. It had it's good points - we got to get used to how you ate, and how to change you, etc, before you came home, and we got to sleep while doing so. We got to meet you just a little earlier, which means we get to have you as a baby just a little longer than everyone else.
However. Leaving you every day was heartbreaking. It hurt me so much to let the nurses give you the care that I should have been giving you. I went home and cried the first time I saw a nurse change your diaper, because that was my job, and I couldn't do it. I felt like I wasn't Mommy, I was just some lady who visited you. After that, I took over. I made certain I was the one who gave you your first bottle, and no one changed you or bathed you but me when I could be there to do so.
You are sleeping in a bassinet next to me and your Daddy right now, on his first Father's Day. You are our Sleepy Bean. You give Daddy trouble feeding you at night. I think it's because you're tired and not as hungry. Sometimes to sputter on your bottles, and then cry, but you do not cry much at all. It's amazing - I always thought you'd be really high strung, like me, but you are like me in that you don't stay angry for long. You cried loudly all the way home from your first pediatrician's appointment, but it only took ten seconds to calm you. Then you curled up on my chest and made me the happiest Mommy.
The doctor is amazed at how few problems you have, and I'm so proud of you. You are stronger than anyone in the NICU thought you'd ever be, and you've proven that you're no "Wimpy White boy", although both the second adjective and noun do apply.
I get to be home with you for a month. I wish it were longer, but one takes what one can. I love curling up on the couch with you in my arms, and I wish I had an amazing camera to take pictures of your face.
Even the dog, Popcorn, loves you. (I know, he loves everyone, but he REALLY loves you.) Every time I let him get close enough, he has to give you a lick. It's fun to watch him jump up beside your bassinet to look at you. He always has to check if you cry.
Best of all, all of our best friends have babies just about your age. You are the smallest, but you were supposed to be the youngest, so that's alright. I can't wait to watch you run around and play with them. I hope you love them as much as we love their parents.
I know I've never been so happy. I've wanted you for so very long, but you were worth the wait. Although I'm going to be sad to see this beautiful baby go, I know watching you grow up will be amazing.
Love,
Mamma
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Home at last!
After 62 days in the hospital NICU, my baby is home.
I can't express my feelings. The drive home was a nightmare, because the nurses realized as we were putting him in the car seat that the belts weren't nearly tight enough. Um...so doesn't that mean the car seat test that he supposedly passed (to make sure he could withstand the pressure of the belts) doesn't count?
Naturally, I watched TK like a hawk all the way home. We live all of eight miles from the hospital, but I swear, it was like we were driving a horse and buggy for all the time it took. Naturally, we had to stop and get food (because we RUSHED to the hospital - he got discharged early! Yay!!) and that, of course, took 4 million years.
He hated it - all the fussing over the belts and such made for a frustrated baby, and he shook his teeny fists at us and screamed.
We made it home alive, finally. We even managed to make it before TK grew up. It took hours to calm him down, but once he did, he's been relatively happy.
...I know I ought to be in Heaven, but I'm just tired, and pretty emotional. He's so beautiful, though, and he's actually mine. It crossed my mind this morning to wonder when they expect me to bring him back. Surely they won't be letting me keep him!
I can't express my feelings. The drive home was a nightmare, because the nurses realized as we were putting him in the car seat that the belts weren't nearly tight enough. Um...so doesn't that mean the car seat test that he supposedly passed (to make sure he could withstand the pressure of the belts) doesn't count?
Naturally, I watched TK like a hawk all the way home. We live all of eight miles from the hospital, but I swear, it was like we were driving a horse and buggy for all the time it took. Naturally, we had to stop and get food (because we RUSHED to the hospital - he got discharged early! Yay!!) and that, of course, took 4 million years.
He hated it - all the fussing over the belts and such made for a frustrated baby, and he shook his teeny fists at us and screamed.
We made it home alive, finally. We even managed to make it before TK grew up. It took hours to calm him down, but once he did, he's been relatively happy.
...I know I ought to be in Heaven, but I'm just tired, and pretty emotional. He's so beautiful, though, and he's actually mine. It crossed my mind this morning to wonder when they expect me to bring him back. Surely they won't be letting me keep him!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Ha! No tubes! For a minute.
I got into the hospital today, and TK had his feeding tube out! WOAH - he gets that out and has 48 hours of not needing it (meaning taking bottles) he can COME HOME. After 8 LOOOOONG weeks.
But no. Right away the nurse (whom I have nicknamed Nurse Bug Eyes, for self explanatory reasons) says, "Oh, he hasn't been doing well, I'm going to be putting it back in." Humph. Then she insisted that she was going to tube feed him his next feed, when I was right there to feed him. Um, no. I know my son, and he's wide awake, I at least want to try. If he doesn't do well, I won't push him too hard - that might cause him to backslide into his old non-eating ways - but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.
So, she put the tube in. I'm not going to argue, because TK would get seriously upset if he had eaten half a bottle or so and then gets tubed, too. I've upset him after he's eaten, and very little is less fun than having milk spit up and coming out your baby's nose. He doesn't much care for it, either.
Then I fed him. He ate the whole bottle in less than 10 minutes, with no problems. WHO'S THE MOMMA?! I must gloat.
Fortunately, his primary nurse, who is a goddess, is working tonight. I know I can count on her to listen.
Seven weeks old, and already a ham:
But no. Right away the nurse (whom I have nicknamed Nurse Bug Eyes, for self explanatory reasons) says, "Oh, he hasn't been doing well, I'm going to be putting it back in." Humph. Then she insisted that she was going to tube feed him his next feed, when I was right there to feed him. Um, no. I know my son, and he's wide awake, I at least want to try. If he doesn't do well, I won't push him too hard - that might cause him to backslide into his old non-eating ways - but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.
So, she put the tube in. I'm not going to argue, because TK would get seriously upset if he had eaten half a bottle or so and then gets tubed, too. I've upset him after he's eaten, and very little is less fun than having milk spit up and coming out your baby's nose. He doesn't much care for it, either.
Then I fed him. He ate the whole bottle in less than 10 minutes, with no problems. WHO'S THE MOMMA?! I must gloat.
Fortunately, his primary nurse, who is a goddess, is working tonight. I know I can count on her to listen.
Seven weeks old, and already a ham:
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