8 months

Dear Little T,

This month has been a roller coaster.  While you are absolutely more adorable than ever, you are impossible to capture on camera. It never does you justice.

Thanksgiving sucked, because you have been so sick.  The continuous rattle in your throat and chest has made into my very own little Model T Ford.  We're best buds with the doctor now (a new doctor that I love). She even calls us at home and meets us on Saturdays.  Seriously, I totally love her.  The pharmacist also knows us by name, and I am not even kidding. She recognizes us before I tell her who we are, and lets me know if your prescription is ready yet or not. 

This month alone you've been on three rounds of antibiotics, most of which are so strong that runny, snot resembling poops are becoming a way of life.  I've actually lost track of the number of times I've lifted you up and thought, "Oh. He's wet. Wonder if he had a bit spit up? Oh, NO. NO, that's NOT spit up. Ewwwwwww!" and then we're running for the bathroom. The scenario that follows is a bit like this:

Mommy holding baby out from body, rushes to bathroom. Then, Mommy twirls in circles, wondering where on earth she's going to PUT baby while she runs the bath. No more spreading of the poo! Somehow, she manages to wrangle the baby out of the PJs with one hand, balancing baby on the edge of the sink, pulls the diaper off, dumps in sink. More twirling while we once again worry about where to put baby. Finally, giving up, puts baby on towel or blanket on carpet outside of bathroom, while warning dog away. Dog will most certainly lick baby parts, which will lead to Daddy, Mommy or both throwing up and adding to mess. Mommy finally gets bath run, plops baby in bath, begins to scrub. Baby then produces more phlegm-poo, and scenario begins again, only this time with wet, naked baby.

Usually this happens on the nights when Daddy is working, of course. Mommy is about to join the cast of the The Walking Dead because of the lack of sleep - not only from the phlegm-poo scenes, but from the Very Full Monster Wet Diaper (VFMWD) that you somehow manage to produce while you are asleep for like, an hour (seriously, people, how does one kid pee that much?), which also produces a similar bath scene to the phlegm-poo scene, the HONGRY wake ups at midnight, 2 or 4 or 5 am and, my personal favorite, the Breathing Treatments.

Yes, Breathing Treatments (with Albutirol, another reason the pharmacist knows us), with a capital BT. Apparently, you wheezed. I was a little worried you hadn't kicked your cold before Thanksgiving, so we went to see the doc, and Lo, Little T is wheezing. I couldn't hear said wheezing, I still can't identify said wheezing if my life depends on it, but you were. (Actually, when I did finally identify wheezing, a week later, we had a full scale panic alert. Mommy + no sleep + sick T + wheezing = Trail of Mommy Tears.  We went to see that poor doctor on Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and she called us at home on Sunday, and had her office staff call us at home on Monday.  Anyway, the Breathing Treatments were every four hours around the clock, and Daddy was working all those nights, so I got up and gave them to you.  You don't like them. I don't like them, either. The face mask, made to look  like a friendly, cheerful fish, has no appeal for you. You straight up scream when I tried to put it on you. It's clearly made for a child twice your size, anyway. I just ended up sticking the blowing tube of steam-like medicine (not hot, just steam-like) in your face and letting you breathe. It smells a lot like new plastic. You like to nom the end of it sometimes, but I figure if it makes you happy and you'll put up with it, we're good.

A week after this begins, you're better, but  not well. So, back to the doc we go. The Breathing Treatments, (which apparently aren't all that unusual for little kids, even "Termies" as we call full term babies) are almost over, but you still sound like a little Model T. Now you're on steroids. Maybe that's why you've been so irritable this week - Baby 'Roid Rage.  Anyway, you finally seem to be actually getting well, which is almost new to us, since we haven't seen it since summer time.

Moving on from illness: Somehow you are growing so fast, it's unbelievable. You eat more than any baby I've ever seen, and yet you're still so thin for a baby. It's odd, but I guess you're eating to make up for the lack of extra baby fat. I figure that, and then I have a good cry, because I still feel like it's my fault that you didn't get the time to get that baby fat. You are, however, bigger than one of my friend's one year old daughter, which astounds me. She's pretty wee, but she looks like a normal one year old to me. It's fascinating to watch her stand. How does a kid do that? You aren't even sitting up yet. Actually, we'll sit you up, and you'll totally fold yourself over in half, and have your face literally on your knees. Then you push up with your hands, which is totally cool. The house is filled with squeeing and excitement (mine) when you do it. Of course, when the camera's out, you'll just roll to your side, as if to say "ha! Ha, Momma! I defy your camera!" Contrary kid.

Along with growing up very quickly, your hair is getting long on the top. You still have a bald spot in the back, but long hair in the front. It's very stylin'.

Since it's December, I get to sing you "Baby, It's Cold Outside", my favorite Christmas song. There's no snow, of course, and if you think about the meaning too hard, or at all, it's a little creepy for me to sing to you, but whatever. It's a song, and you don't care yet, anyway.

We went to see Santa today. I really thought there was no way we'd get you to smile, but you were hamming it up for the 8 year old girl in line in front of us.  - I hope you cry. Although, you totally smile any time you see just about any one, but especially Daddy. Every day, and every smile is like sunshine for us. Your Grandma Deb visited today, and she said what I often think - just seeing you makes her(my_whole day better, and brightens her(my) mood. I know just what she means. I wish I could bottle up your laughter and save it forever.

Love,
Momma

The Duggars and loss

It's been announced, yes, that Michelle Duggar has had a miscarriage.

I'm so deeply conflicted about this. I'm absolutely sorry for them. Losing a child, especially that far along in pregnancy, is so painful. Regardless of how many children one has, a parent anticipates a child for so long, feels him or her moving inside of her, and to have it die... I can't, and won't imagine. It devastated me to go from being pregnant one minute to waking up a couple hours later and not being pregnant anymore. My baby was alive, and is a beautiful boy now. I don't know how I'd face life if I'd lost him.

I am grateful that she has other children that she has the opportunity to take solace in, but I imagine, too, that she has to provide comfort, as much as one can, to those children. If she gets pregnant again, it's never going to be with the innocence of anticipation that someone who has never lost a child, or had a preemie, has. I know the thought of being pregnant again fills me with as much fear as it does joy, for many reasons, but primarily the fear of loss. The fear that I will love that child so deeply, be literally connected to him (or her) and then lose that child prevents me from even considering another at the present.

So, yes, while on one hand I am not terribly surprised that this pregnancy did not go well, I feel true sorrow for her and her family. I know her body is probably tired, and I disagree with her that she could go on trying for children, or simply not preventing them, because I think God allowed us discover birth control so that we could better take care of our bodies, and take better care of the children we have.  My father himself comes from a large family, and I know there were times where he and his siblings did not feel they, as individuals got enough attention. It's not that they weren't cared for, but they lacked something. I would never choose that for my own children.  I think there's selfishness, even greed, in that.

Nevertheless, no one deserves the pain of losing a child. Just having my own son has made me much more sympathetic to that. I loved him before he was conceived - I yearned for a baby. I adore this child, and I have known women to face life without a baby that they felt moving and living inside of them. I cannot imagine the pain of that loss, not truly. I can try, and that in itself shakes me to my core. I honestly do not, cannot, imagine living after something like that, or wanting to. I'm not saying or advocating suicide if one loses a child - not at all - I just don't know how I could face it.

I love a good mom post

For those without children, sometimes it seems like my gushing in bullshit, and my complaints are too horrifying to imagine.  This mom sums up my response to that very nicely:

http://akasupermommy.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/10-things-i-hate-about-motherhood-and-one-that-i-love/#comment-91

This section had the most impact on me:
"Fear. Loving a child means spending countless hours, days, weeks, years fearing for that child. You fear that they will be hurt, that they will become sick, that they will die, you fear that you will die and they will be orphaned, you fear that they will ask you about death and you won’t have an answer; you fear that they will be the one kid in their kindergarten class that isn’t invited to that one kid’s birthday party; you fear that they will never love books as much as you do; you fear that they will worry about their looks; you fear that their heart will someday be broken. You lay awake at night worrying about the fact that their heart willsomeday [sic] be broken. You lay awake at night, worrying. Which is why, on those rare nights when the children sleep right through? You’re still not sleeping." 


My blessed mother in law (who really is one of the best mothers in law anyone could be blessed with) wants to keep my son for the weekend. This weekend is my birthday, and I feel like shouting "WOOOHOOOO!" on one hand, and on the other, a little sad that my baby won't be home for my birthday. It seems this works for almost every aspect of motherhood. 

Yay!!!

T is just shy of 7 months, and he's on the charts for his weight! I'm so excited!

According to the World Health Organization (and the chart below, which has random stats, not T's), he's at 10.9%!! He was at 5% just a month ago, so this is amazing. As of yesterday, he weighed 16.1 pounds. He's quintupled his birth weight.


By infantchart.com

Preemie awareness month

This is what T looked like 11 days after his birth. That is a beanie baby next to him.  I know of other babies, equally premature, who did not do as well, and died. Please be aware of the problems of premature birth, which is the most common cause of infant death. Go to marchofdimes.org for more information. Thanks for your support. 

7 months

Dear Little T,

Since Daddy always calls you that, it seems suitable that I address you as such on the blog.

This month you are really trying to sit up. You've begun squealing, and screaming (happy screams!) which is so cute, and you make the most use of those screams when you are proud of yourself, like when you sit up for a second (usually with a little help from me or Daddy).

We put together your Johnny Jump Up this weekend, but you're not really into it yet.

It's getting so much colder, so we've finally dug out your sleep sacks. I'm so grateful that someone gave them to us - they're not cheap, and you've managed to dirty three of the four in the last couple of days.

While we started you on solids a month or so ago, we decided that you needed to wait a little more. I tried you again the other day and it was so different. You sat up (in the bumbo chair), opened your mouth, and leaned for it. You didn't seem to want it that much, but I have a feeling you just weren't that hungry.

Christmas is coming, and Mommy is trying to make some gifts this year instead of buying them all, to save money, and because it seems more thoughtful, for those that don't want specific items. However, I feel sometimes that I'm neglecting you while I'm working on those. There's so little time!

I remember last year thinking that this would be the year that I'd take my own baby to see Santa. I can't believe that's really coming up. You got your picture taken at "baby school" (daycare) last week, and you looked so unbelievably grown up.

You're already getting too big for your size 2 diapers, and moving into 3's. We haven't even finished the first box of 2's yet!

You got shots (they were supposed to be 6 month shots, but you got in a little late, and then you were sick when we took you, so you had to wait), and that was miserable. You were so cranky that weekend! I know you didn't feel well, and I felt bad for you. You pretty much slept, ate a little, and cried/whined. We watched Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast (your first time for both), but you didn't seem to enjoy them all that much. Maybe later. Maybe we'll try The Jungle Book; that was your aunt's favorite.

This month you have begun grabbing things and stuffing them in your mouth. I know that's a normal baby thing, but it's fascinating to watch you. I bought you a stuffed tiger at the zoo last month, and I gave it to you just to see what would happen. Not only did you attempt to stuff his entire head in your mouth, but you got so frustrated when it didn't fit! I thought only the dog could manage to slobber on a toy that much, but I was completely mistaken. Clearly, you are giving him a run for his money.

Your giggling is the highlight of my days. You start by smiling, and then saying "Ohhhhh", which turns into "EEEEEEEE".  It's not a conventional laugh, but it's more than delightful. I can't help but laugh with you. I'll do anything to make you laugh more - get hit in the face with the bear mobile over your swing over, and over and over again, sing silly songs, stand on my head. It's worth it.

Halloween was beyond adorable. You were given two costumes, which actually turned out much better than the one we bought you, just in terms of comfort. We didn't go trick or treating, but I did take you to our annual party, where you promptly fell asleep. I think the highlight of your grandmother's night was getting to hold you before I took you home.

I can't imagine life without you, Little Man. You bring new joy to every single day. 

Love, 

Momma

Month 6

Dear TK,

Today 13 days ago you are turned six months old. I wrote this post then, and needed to find pictures. I'm slack.

We went to the Pediatric Rehab today to have a NICU follow-up. I was very nervous; I suppose I was just afraid they were going to tell me that something was wrong with you. I know you're perfect. You've been the Strongest Baby Ever since day 1. My pride in you and your abilities truly knows no bounds, and I'm sure that would not have changed had the doctors said something was wrong, but nevertheless, I worried. That's what I do. The doctor and the therapists all said that you're right on track for your age. You're not the average six month old, but since you should have been born in June, you are absolutely doing great for the average 3 1/2 month old. You're at the 50% percentile for head size, and your weight is on the 5% for 6 months and 50% for 3 months. You're still a little short, but that's ok. You're a member of our family, so you fit right in.

Geekery and drool.

The cooing and talking and squealing continues, and every time you and I have a conversation, it's a joy. You are so much fun right now! You respond to people more than anything - you don't care much about toys, or music, but you really like people's faces. You light up and smile whenever anyone talks to you, and when we go out to the store, you're not happy unless you can see my face, so I put you in your stroller backward so you can see me. You sure know how to make your mommy feel loved!

Your current "words" are: Aroooo, Wooo, Gooo, and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Oh, and WAH, which is an old word for you. Daddy likes to say that Aroooo is your best friend. Maybe that's what we'll call the toy tiger I bought you on your first trip to the zoo on Saturday.

The last couple of weeks have been really difficult. An acquaintance lost her son two weeks ago to SIDS. He wasn't much younger than you are, and, worse, he spent less time in the NICU. It reminds me just how fragile you are, and it made me very, very afraid. Her words just tore me apart. I hope I'll never be able to truly imagine her pain, but what I can imagine is absolutely terrifying. I'd be sleeping with you in my bed if I weren't afraid that would risk your life more than keeping you in your own bed.

This month I've been trying to knit you a Sock Monkey costume, but I don't think my skills aren't quite at that level, so I bought you a banana costume instead for Halloween. I can't wait to see the pictures of you in it!

Everyone is always commenting on your beautiful big eyes, which are obviously turning hazel now, like mine. Every one of your expressions are so beautiful, but when you open your eyes wide and smile, no one can resist you. I meet babies your age, and I often think, "Gosh! They have such small eyes!"

Your daddy says he still doesn't like babies, but he obviously adores you. Watching you two play together is like a dream come true.

The bath is new fun for you now. You're learning to enjoy splashing, and when you get your feet really kicking, everyone gets wet. I don't think our home has ever had so much laughter in it.

You do cry, but usually only when you're tired or hungry. Yesterday you cried for 30 minutes on our drive home from visiting a friend, but as soon as I picked you up out of your car seat, you were smiling and happy again. It was dark, and I think you might have just been lonesome.

This month you are in size 2 diapers, which in the way of milestones is no big deal, but it's exciting for me. I had to return yet another box of size 1s. Target actually will not let me return anything else! I'm banned!

Our NICU bills are still pretty formidable. We've actually resorted to having money taken out of your father's check every month, and one of the bills has gone to collections. I hate admitting that, but it's true. Even with insurance, which actually covered enormous amounts of the bills (which totaled, just for you alone, $250,000), the remaining costs still fall to us, in addition to lots of testing and bills for me. I can't imagine how bitter I'd be if we were dealing with all these and we didn't have you with us. I can't imagine being someone who struggled and struggled and still lost their baby, or family member. I'm really looking forward to joining the March of Dimes this coming year in hopes of helping others. Someday there might be a cure for HELLP Syndrome, and Pre-eclampsia, so this won't happen to other families, I hope.

Love,
Momma