Sunday, November 29, 2009

Gulp

Friday we meet with the neurologist.  I just had to write out that sentence to see if it would seem more real after I read it in print.  This sentence has been running through my head all of today.  It still seem so unreal on different levels, even after seeing it in print staring right back at me. 
We have waited so long for this appointment,  It's been recommended, postponed, rescheduled, and now it is almost here.  It seem unreal because it seems so long in the making.  From the first time I saw Caleb when the doctors pointed to his tiny head and said this is where his brain bleed is and we waited and prayed.  To a few weeks later when they said his ultrasound showed some unusual things and we may be looking at brain surgery, what?  It was my biggest fear after the fear of his death of course, the fear that he would have life long major handicaps.  And we have been up and down this rollercoaster ride with him, from one opinion to another.  But we have been waiting for the year one neuro appointment and it is finally here.  What? It is finally here, you mean I may have answers on Friday?  Realistically, we already have some of those answers, other answers  seem possible but unlikely, others only time will tell.  We have seen so many other specialists in the last year I am not sure why I have placed so much emphasis on this one appointment.  I have a huge packet to fill out this week. I have had the packet since February, last minute Chris, yep that's me.  His birth history is all fuzzy to me, I was waiting on his medical records for some of the questions.  Other questions, we just didnt know the answer to yet, he wasnt developmentally there yet.  And mostly, I have answered enough questions in the last year, I wanted to table this until I had to deal with it.  Now I have to deal with it.  Stupid paperwork. 

I am on edge tonight, the kids are asleep,  the house is quiet, and I am trying to plan out this busy week, and try not to think too much about Friday.  Right now I am just in logistics for Friday: what to pack, what time to leave, what all can I do while we are up there, where are the girls going.  I am on edge because I know Friday can bring about some things I never thought I would have to face as a mother.  I mean really, the fact that I am taking my child to a neurologist is enough of a shock to my system.  I still am not ready for anything past that.  We are also trying to reschedule an eye appointment in while we are there, nothing is ever simple it seems. 

I know those of you in my life have had to listen to me waiver and falter, whine and question, and really just vent for the last year.  Just know that this is a big week for me, this Friday is the biggest deal to me.  When it was suggested as a specialist we should see, my heart sunk.  When it was rescheduled, my mind went into a tailspin.  And now it is here and I gulping big mouthfuls of air, trying to muster up what I need to face this.  We have seen many of the other predicted problems for micropreemies come to fruition for Caleb, sensory, vision, motor, speech, immune.  But he also beat the odds on other things.  Friday seems to be the day where we square off on this one issue of brain damage, nerve damage, spasticity.  ( I have seen a lot of westerns in my day, so of course it is a showdown, cue western music)  Either way it doesnt change who Caleb is or what he means to me but I guess it changes who I am.  I am sitting here in disbelief that my child needs all these interventions.  How could God possibly think I am capable and strong enough?  But in my heart I know, I am not those things, He is.   I dont have to be those things.  I can sit here on a Sunday night, preparing for the week and for Friday knowing that my role is a mother, a teacher and an advocate for my child.  The rest I can set aside and hope and trust that God is taking care of that.  I am not a healer or a miracle worker.  I dont have to know why, even though I struggle with asking that question often on some days.  I dont have to know why to mother Caleb or the girls.  I just have to know who, who am I, what is my role, who am I mothering and how can I do that correctly, and who do I need to trust for the rest.    I think right now I am still at the how stage though or the why.  How did this happen, why us?  I am really trying to focus on just being a mother  I dont have to label it any more than that tonight.  Not mom of many, experienced mom, tired mom, special needs mom, just mommy. 
Gulp, it's a big week.  It's a busy week and that will help.  Recognizing and admitting that this appointment matters, that this journey we have been on does have it's own set of milemarkers and signifcant stops along the way.  I am hoping for grace and compassion from our doctor team.  I am hoping for wisdom and understanding from all involved in caring for Caleb.  I am hoping I can mother him and allow God to work through the rest for me.  It isnt an easy place to be but it's the place I am at. 

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

I am changing things up this Thanksgiving

It's almost Thanksgiving which has always been my favorite holiday.  I love all the food, family being together, and football on the tv.  When I was a child, we always went to my grandparents for dinner.  Their small house was crowded with family, cousins, aunts and uncles, siblings, and hunters.  My cousins and uncles and their friends would hunt on my grandparents property.  Inevivatbly, a deer was hanging from a tree every time we drove up the driveway.  I hated that part but Marlena and I always enjoyed some of my cousins' and uncles' friends.  They were loud, fun and often cute.  Too funny that I remember that now. 
I remember mostly my grandma bustling around her kitchen, making so many things and serving everyone else.  I miss her so much.  I remember my grandpa watching the parade, calling grandma in to to look at something, as if she wasnt busy at all.  I remember sharing the chocolate pie with him, fighting over who received the bigger piece.  My dad was always off for Thanksgiving, the post office was closed.  It was a day we knew we would get to spend with him.  My brothers were always glued to the tv, watching football, some things never change.  The house would get so crowded and hot, we would go out and sit on the porch swings and talk, sometimes even when it was snowing. 
By high school, Crave was even attending our Thanksgiving.  Once as a hunting guest of my cousin, and then later years as my guest.  My grandma welcomed him right in, just like she did everyone.  In college, Jason even brought a friend of his home to hunt and spend the holiday with us.  That was there year I may have deceived him into thinking I was a better cook than I truly am.  I remember my grandma fussing over the men and insisting my sister and I do it as well.  She and mom would encourage me to make Crave a plate, get him dessert, bring him coffee.  I would always chafe and inform them Ja was capable of taking care of himself.  My mom still fusses over Crave, and the feminist and realist in me still chafes.  Because really Crave lived on his own before me, he is capable of making his own dinner and washing his own dish.  My grandmother and my mother possess a giving and humble spirit.  My mom and grandma knew how to serve with love, to demonstrate love in practical and tangible ways.  I struggle, I have a hard time putting others needs above my own needs or pride, especially a man's needs!  I encourage my girls to think for themselves, be themselves, learn how to do things for themselves.  There is value in self-sufficiency and respect for oneself.  I guess this Thanksgiving I am reflective of the lessons I learned from my grandmother and my own mother, lessons I tend to fail at putting into practice. 
This year I am responsible for making the chocolate pie and sadly there is no one to share it with.  My grandfather died when Seneca was a baby, my little brother isnt coming home for Thanksgiving.  I will have a whole pie to myself and I do feel sadness over that.  I am making the mashed potatoes, which I know how to make and make often for my own family.  But all of my Thanksgiving memories involve images of my grandma making potatoes.  I could never measure up to who she was a cook or as a woman. 

I hope as Mar and I are shuffling and rushing around the kitchen making preparations we get the chance to remember the dinners of the past.  There are days when my heart cannot believe my grandma is no longer with us.   I miss her so much, my girls miss her so much.  Crave misses her so much.  She so lovingly cared for each of us and made each of us feel valued and special to her.  She did that by serving us and caring for us.  To me this year, this holiday that principle is more important than any feministic or self-serving principle I have.  I say that knowing full well my brothers and my husband and brother-in-law would knowningly and willingly take advantage of my change of heart.  I can see them all day requesting more tea, another plate, more dessert and chiding me if I rebel and grouch.  Luckily, none of them read my blog and so they wont know about my change of my heart, my new charge for this week: to show my girls and myself that our actions and attitudes make such a difference to others ability to feel loved and valued.  I am very good at using words to affirm.  I am warm and affectionate.  I struggle with humbling myself and putting others needs above my own.  So this Thanksgiving I am thankful for Thanksgivings of the past, of family gatherings and wonderful food and of lessons learned that are lifelong.  I will make yummy, smooth mashed potatoes and I will work to show others I love their value to me in practial and tangible ways.  I will say, "Yes, Crave, I would love to get you a slice of pie," and mean it.  I will not say, "You have legs, get it yourself," to anyone this year. 
Happy Thanksgiving!!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

monday is here

It's officially Monday.  I have made no deciscions about Little Man's treatment plan. Stike that, I have decided to wait to make a decision after the holidays.  Indecision and waiting are not action words but they are the actions I am taking right now.  I feel at peace about waiting to start in the new year.  The suggested plan was time consuming, highly structured and not manageable right now. I spent the week evaluating our schedule and our family dynamic. I also spent time in prayer and in quiet, not trying to force a decision. 
I carried a notebook around all week, documenting our time commitments, priorities, and family and individual routines.  I also kept notes, per therapist instructions, on Caleb's 'quirks,fears, irregularites'  Basically spent the week documenting what was abnormal about my son's behavior, movement, mannerisms.  I cried more this weekend than I have in a long time.  Behaviors and quirks I wandered about before make more sense when viewed through fresh eyes.  When you know what to look for, it is easier to see. 
Ja and I had late night conversations, it was easier to talk in the dark about our fears and sadness.  Caleb was a more agiated baby this weekend as well.  I think in reality, Ja and I were more attuned to his comfort level and his reactions to stimuli.  Before when he fussed, we would attribute it to hunger or the need for a nap or attention.  This weekend we were on the look for triggers and responses.  The list of these is longer than I realized and this troubles me. 

When we started OT therapy, I just wanted help for his feeding issues.  I wanted him to be able to eat table food without fear and gagging.  I did not think it went much deeper than that and I honestly believed it would be a quick fix.  A couple months, at most, of working to build up his comfort and skill level, I thought we would quickly relieve his feeding issues.  Now the reality of a more complex and life long issue is settling over me and it feels very heavy. 
We were given the clues to look for when Caleb feels threatened or stressed, when his nervous system is on overload.  I saw those clues come into play when Jason or I would try to cuddle him and my heart sunk.  I have realized this week that we have to meet his needs on his terms.  I so long to sit and rock him all night, to hold him close to me and feel him mold into me, into my body.  Unfortunately, his body cannot process that right now and so my feelings must not be prioritized over his needs.  It is hard place for me to be in as a mother. 
Other things seemed to line up, to make sense this week as we looked for clues and behaviors.  His constant mouthing of toys, his constant motion; all ways to provide a soothing sensory experience for him.  We have some suggested therapy options and we are hopeful they will work, that they will lessen his defensive responses.  They require being intentional in every aspect of his care.  We have been intentional so much already in his life, intentional for his gross and fine motor skill development and for lessening his spasticity.  I had hoped we are almost done being intentional and could just be.  It is hard to carry extra guidelines and emphasis in the back of your mind.  To use forethought in every activity from feeding to diapering and bathing to play and social time  Pick him up this way, hold him that way, talk to him this way, move him that way.  Aghh.  It became exhausting.  Activites and moments that were natural to me as an experienced mom now required new thought processes and adaptability. 

I made a list this week of things about my son that were abnormal.  How very disheartening.  heartbreaking, traiterish.  Yes, I feel like a traitor in some ways.  Because I love this little boy, quirks and all.  I love him as he is now.  with all of my heart.  I have to remind myself that identifying and admitting is the first step in helping him overcome this "issue" 
I struggle so much with not wanting his prematurity to define him.  He is 15 months old now.  And this is our next step, continuing his therapies, working to identify and move past his fears, one sensory issue at a time.  The first one being his fear of eating, chewing, swallowing.  That takes precedint over cuddling issues.  I know this because I know Caleb still has the ability to show and express love and to soak up love and affection.  One can clearly see that reality any time he is with his sisters or us.  My hope is that one day soon, I will get to just hold my son and be.  Be his mommy.  His comfort. 

(I know that I have not shared Caleb's new diagnosis with everyone and so some of you may wonder what I am talking about.  I really dont want to go into it, to label him any more than he already has been labeled.  Or spend time discussing his treatment plan and the options we have and are considering.  The easy explanation is that Caleb, being a micropreemie, was never able to fully develop his nervous system and we are seeing the ramifications of that now.  My belief is that therapy is beneficial and God is bigger than any diagnosis we have received or will receive.)
And so we work and we wait.  And one day we will get to just be.  

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Being quiet, at least for a day or two

Feeling overwhelmed and pressured today.  The internet is a wonderful tool, and I admit, I am somewhat addicted to it.  Email, facebook, blogging, netflix, google:  all part of my day now.  I love how I can communicate with my brothers who do not live close, my sister and I can email back and forth throughout the day.  I can find old friends and stay in contact with long ago friends and new friends.  I blog my thoughts and can share so much more effectively where I am at emotionally and spiritually.  I love the perspective I get when I can type out my feelings and organize them.  I love how I can watch foreign movies and brittish miniseries on Netflix on the nights I can't sleep.  I can print off coloring pages for the girls and help them learn facts about the things that interest them.  I love the internet!
The last few days I have used the internet to research and examine a diagnosis and treatment plan for Caleb.  I am finding it overwhelming, so much information, so many different opionions.  Will we choose the right course of action, and in the right time frame?  I want the best for my kids and I want to do all that I can to help.  But I am feeling the need to evaluate and set boundaries, almost like setting the search parameters on a google search.  I have too much input right now, too much information, too much expectation and anticipation of a decision.  And so I have decided to just rest today.  Not rest physically because my house is a mess!  But rest in my research, rest in my conversations about it.

  I am not being like an ostrich and burrying my head in the sand.  I am choosing to sit still and trust in the promise of God.  Some days I just desire to be still and know. 
We are to come next Monday with our list of questions and concerns to discuss with our therapy team.  Also coming with our evaluation of our family life and schedule.  Today I feel as though I cannot fit one more thing in my life but I know my schedule and my priorites can be rearranged and shuffled. 

 I have always been one to say, "Trust the process.  There is growth and a wealth of insight and meaning in the process."  By process, I think I have always meant the treatment plan we are on, the step A to step B and C schedule of medical interventions we have been on.  My advice to new NICU moms is that, Trust in the Process.  Allow them to work out the breathing and heart issues before moving on to feeding and growth, etc.  And we have done that, now we are on to the part of the process we were only forewarned about in the NICU.  It seemed so far in the future and not at all plausible when we were in the NICU, and so my mind did not dwell on the future, expected and predicted issues.  In truth, much information was not alloted by the doctors just an allusion to future issues: learning delays, motor delays, nervous system comprimise, feeding issues.  They seemed so much smaller than the major health issues.  Well now we are in those expected issues and I can say they no longer seem smaller or less intense! 

For now I am taking time off of the trust the process sentiment.  Not that I do not trust, I am just chosing to rest, to be quiet and still.  I know there is help out there for us.  I know his therapies are working.  I am not sure what our next step is.  I have decided the only voice I want to hear from right now is God's spirit.  I value and trust the other voices in my life, family, medical professionals, experienced parents, but for now I am overwhelmed and need God's direction and his peace.

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love."  (Zephenia 3:17)

Monday, November 16, 2009

coffee=clarity?

I feel like I have about three or four different blog posts running through my head tonight.  Probably because I had coffee tonight and I dont usally drink coffee because of it's hyperactive effect on me.  The more plausible and true reason would be that I have had an emotional weekend with different events, conversations, and happenings and I am trying to compartmentalize and organize all of them. 

I had a lovely time tonight, coffee with girlfriends, and chocolate donuts, and conversations and a total of 3 Chris's.  Apparantly in the 70's, Christina and variations of Christina were popular name choices for a little girl.  Here in my town, in my circle of friends, I know of at least 8 Chris's.  This makes me smile and giggle.  But I digress from my original train of blogging thoughts.  My mind is scattered and I am feeling the need to filter for my own sanity, one issue at a time is all I can handle.  Yet, I am balancing or trying to process at least four seperate issues. 


What is it about women, about moms, that when we get together we discuss birth stories, labor stories?   Tonight during coffee we did, we discussed birth stories.  Not horror or scary stories but entertaining and informative and beautiful stories.  It was nice because no one was comparing or contrasting or stating that her birth was better or more affirming.  There wasn't a debate over natural versus epidural or casearan, which for me was very refreshing.  I have been in those discussions before and they can make  birth, something so beautiful, turn into an ugly heated accusatory topic. 

 The topic of birth and others' stories caught me off guard tonight, I am finding more and more things are catching me offguard lateley!  It was my first face to face discussion with other women about birth, after my grueling and traumatic birth of Caleb.  The discussion also occuring soon after a viewing of "Birth in America," a new documentary of one couple's birth journey.  I watched the movie at a screening on Friday night and acutally left midway through with tears in my eyes and almost in a state of panic. I could not finish the movie, I left briskly walking for my car with such a need to escape.  Nothing against the movie, my heart and state of mind just too freshly wounded from my own painful birth event.  While watching the movie I was confronted with my own feeling and loss of control during Caleb's birth.  Emotions I had buried came quickly to the surface and I was forced to face them.  I faced them for all of about five mintues on my way out of the theatre and my drive home.  I came home and held my baby and refused to think of anything but the feeling of him in my arms and his immediate needs of food and sleep.  Once he was asleep, I had calmed my self and proceded to drive back to the theatre and assure my friends I was fine.  Ha, fine, really?  More like in denial and happily so. 


And so guess what happened when the birth conversation came up tonight?  I actually enjoyed my one friend's lighthearted and somewhat comical home birth stories.  One, she can tell a great story; two, they are great stories: and three, I can acknowledge and celebrate that birth is beautiful and life is beautiful.  Others began to tell their stories and it was fascinating to get to know this side of my friends; of the moments that led up to them becoming mothers.  Then a part of me started thinking of my own births, I have had four.  I have four incredible children.  Unfortunately, my mind is stuck, stuck on the traumatic and scary birth of Caleb.  I have heartwarmng and funny moments in the births of my girls but my mind and my heart only quickly visit those before everything goes back to the moments and events of Caleb's birth.  And tonight I felt stuck, stuck in that feeling of vulnerabilty and fear, of violation and a total lack of control.  Calling his birth jarring is an understatement, perhaps the biggest understatement of my lifetime.  I had to leave the table tonight and go to the bathroom, for my own comfort.  Yep, that is what happened, I became emotional and had to shelter myself, ESCAPE!  

 Not one of my friends tonight would mind my tears or my sadness, they are all generous and kind.  My own pride and coping mechanisms would not allow me to break down, a few tears is fine but more than that is unacceptable.  So I collected myself and returned to the table and was able to share a little of his birth story.  I am thankful they listened with interest and kindness, more thankful than I could ever express in words on a paper.  I know Caleb's birth was not all trauma, there were moments of grace.  I also fully recongnize that my son is a living miracle boy, that I also am fortunate to be alive.  So easlily I could have lost my son or my own life.  I have shared some of the emotional trauma from our time in the NICU.  I have not shared of the other logistics of Caleb's birth or the 'story' of his birth.  After this weekend and tonight, I have realized that I need to share and speak of it. 


For so long and for several reasons, I did not speak of the trauma of Caleb's birth.  I did not want to scare others or make birth seem more scary than it needs to be.  Most births are not like his, most births are not as risky or frightening.   I did not want my birth to turn into a discussion of the statistics or talking points on c-sections or prematurity.  I did not want to have to explain or justify my c-section.  I was also dealing with guilt issues, knowing my pre-existing condition was the cause for my high risk pregnancy.  The guilt is something I constantly have to check myself on, and one of the many reasons I am thankful for my faith.  I was also jealous of others who had full term pregnancies and easy, breezy deliveries.  I didnt want to show the green-eyed monster to others.  I also was busy coping with other major issues for Caleb and so my own emotional needs were put on hold.  I had other pressing traumas to struggle through, more tangible, visible issues.  


  In these months we have been home, I have shared in confidence with others of my trauma only to have them say I should just be thankful for Caleb.  Oww, that hurts on so many levels!!!!  Each day I am thankful for my beautiful son.  But cliches and feel good sentiments do not erase bad memories or the deep, dark feelings and events I have been through.  And so I did not speak.  I did not deal, except for brief moments and then I would talk myself out of deeply feeling or recongizing my hurt. 


Coping. Denial,...Keep on keeping on. 


Tonight in the midst of coffee and girlfriends, I realized a few things...
Timing is everything.  It is time for me to deal.  And so first I want to say, I have had beautiful births.  I have some funny moments in each of my births, even Caleb's.  I am thankful I was able to give birth, to carry children in my womb.  But, I have had hard births.  I have had scary births.  I have also expereienced trauma that broke my heart, shattered my peace, stole my feeling of control and privacy.  I can rejoice in the gift of a son, a courageous son  healed by God,  while recognizing that the events of his birth caused much emotional pain.  And so in the weeks ahead, I hope to take time to confront these events, to examine and think upon them.  I will not dwell on the things I cannot change but I do feel the need to at least speak of them, or write of them. 
I am a firm believer in being who you are.  I don't want pretences. I want authenticity.  I am so thankful for the others who take me as I am, who lovingly and graciously allow me to be broken.  Thankful that others do not pity me or try to "fix" my brokenness.  I am asking and trying to allow God to reshape my brokenness.  I need not pity only grace.
  I'm Chris, I am.  (we also talked of Dr. Seuss tonight)

Friday, November 13, 2009

Pizza and Envy

Two evenings ago, we went out to eat as a family.  We crowded into a booth and shared a couple of yummy pizzas.  Caleb remained buckled in his carseat and happily drank his bottle.  It was a fun evening, we rated the pizza against our childhood favorite pizzas and laughed and played silly games.  Crave and I even made googly eyes at each other across the table.  When we were all paid up, we bundled up and headed out to the car to head home.  As we were leaving the restuarant I just happened to glance in the window and saw a young family with a baby, around ten months if I had to guess.  He was buckled in a  wooden high chair.  I watched as they studied their menus and he brought his hands together to clap and clap and clap.  He was so animated and lively.  His parents looked on, probably trying to decide which pizza to order.  But something in my heart ached, almost ripped.  I wanted to tap on the glass and point to there baby and have them notice and admire him.  No doubt they were devoted and attentive parents, they safely buckled him in, provided toys for him, dressed him warmly for the cool weather.  But my heart ached because there baby was doing something my little boy can't or won't do. Something I have been working and encouraging for months with him to do, clap his hands and have expressive, interactive play.  This family took for granted this develpmental play moment, and I have been anxiously waiting and working for it with Caleb.  I also admitted to myself that I took those moments for granted with my girls.  So many normal and interactive activites and moments I never relished or appreciated as much as I could or should have.  From first laughters and first words to reaching out for me and playing with me, moments I long for with Caleb, moments I savor so much when they do happen or when they will eventually.

 Our therapy assignment for the last two weeks was to have more interactive play, to encourage him to knock things over and bang them together.  His illness and the rest of the familys' illness as well has halted our play therapy.  And so when I saw that little baby doing the things I so want Caleb to do it was like time stopped for a minute.  I spent the rest of the drive home and the remaining evening quiet, introspective, and stewing in my own jealousy, envy and regret.  Not a great place to be, noting every thing your child is NOT doing that others' babies are easily doing.  Angry that everything is so much more stressfull and planned out,it is play therapy and not just play.  Sad that I am not just enjoying the wonderful things he is doing now like crawling and rolling and smiling.  Guilt that I am not focusing on how far we have come but instead on how far we have not come.  Envious that I did not get the beautiful birth and bonding time of his newborn months and the months of his infancy have been work and worry.

  I am aware more so each day that he is my last baby, that my 'baby days' are soon over.  Before his birth I had worked up that expectation in my mind and heart.   How fitting I thought to have a little boy as my last baby, I could enjoy all the other things of infancy that I love and also learn new things in mothering a boy.  I did not know that the stages of infancy would be so different for Caleb and I.  I had no idea our journey would be so different and difficult.  I did not know I would learn so much more than just how to mother a boy.
With the girls I easily glided from one stage to the next, looking forward to the first smile, coo, crawl, step.  With Caleb it has been so different, each milestone has not just "happened."  It has required work, exercise, discipline, forethought and prayer.  He has come along way from when we first brought him home.  I remember vividly his first months home.  His neck was so stiff, he could not turn his head.  Baths were a struggle and not a joy; his neck muscles were so tight he was hard to wash.  With many months of therapy and exercise, he has almost full range of motion in his neck.  So therapy is working, he is progressing.  I know I should just be thankful for that and remain in that mind frame.  If only I weren't human, right? 
I can say I do not spend every day asking "Why me?" or "Why us?"  Most days I am caught up in how blessed we are to have him home, how sweet he is, how far he has come.  Even though he does not cry out for "Mama", his eyes and his whole body cry out for me and light up for me.  Even though he does not clap or bang or "play" like others, he still finds joy and brings joy.  Will these milestones come, oh Lord I hope and pray.  I cannot begrudge others for happy, healthy, normal children.  I can only encourage them to look up and see how amazing their babies are, how blessed they are to enjoy the moments and milestones without all the extra work and worry.  I hope I do not sound jaded, I try to keep that in check.  God is good and He has blessed us so much.  My sweet little boy is a living miracle baby and I do believe God continues to work in him and heal him.  I did not realize I had so much more to learn as a mother!

Monday, November 9, 2009

bodies on the mend, hearts not so much

Bodies on the mend, hearts not so much.  We spent the weekend in the hospital with a sick little baby boy.  He was in isolation so his sisters had not seen or held him from Thursday evening until Sunday afternoon.  Crave and I switched off on childcare but neither of us got much sleep.  Little Man sick in the hospital, Panda with a bad cough at home.  Crave spent one night in the hospital with Little Man so I could go home to sleep.  I did not sleep, I awoke about five times, sleepily stumbling into his room to realize he wasnt there, he was at the hospital.  I finally curled up in the rocker in his room and slept fiftully for a few hours. 

 He is home now, recovering, still tired and weak but well enough to be home.  He had the sweetest smile when he saw his sisters' anxious faces.  He reached out for them and his eyes just sparkled.  Love and adoration, belonging, such sweet emotions. 
This morning his older 2 sisters begged to stay home and be with him.  They made promises to change his diapers and help me catch up on laundry and dishes.  They didnt want to be seperated from him and they didnt want him to feel alone.  It was so incredibly sweet but I sent them to school anyway.  Panda woke late and went straight to his crib to wake him with an insistince that he was needing her in his sleep and she wanted to be there when he opened his eyes.  He took a bath with her and her Barbies and he was all smiles.  Panda spent the morning continually asking me to hold her and hug her.  "Squeeze me tight Mommy, I missed you so much when you were in the hospital." 

This weekend was rough with our kids in two different places, having physical and emotional needs that required tending.  We had quite a few meltdown moments but I am thankful that my girls know they can say anything, express any fear or emotion and still be loved and affirmed.  Jealousy, resentment, fear, blame, anger, loss; these emotions all abounded this weekend.  Some were spoken and some were acted out.  My energy was depleted and my reserve was on low but through God's grace we managed to make it through the weekend and this morning with a semblance of peace in the midst of struggle.  I want my kids to know that no matter what life throws them, they have a place to fall, a place to be.  Growth doesn't come from denying who you are or what you are feeling.  It's hard to see your kids struggle or cry or fight with each other.  I want everything to be easy and beautiful for them but it doesnt always work that way and it probably should not.  This weekend we had a minor setback, a flashback of instability and worry from last fall.  Senny Sunshine kept talking of seperation and disruption, funny words for an 8 year old to focus on!  The girls have learned Little Man's health and immunity are more vulnerable to sickness.  They learned we can try and be preventative but in the end we just have to be willing to trust that God is more in control than us.  I hope we all recover quickly, physically and emotionally.  I do not want the girls to live in fear for their brother's health.  I also do not want them to feel insecure or have seperation anxiety.  But I cannot control how they feel all I can do is respond with love and affirmation.  And try to keep my heart and my energy reserve focused and balanced.  I have learned so much in the last year about myself, others and life.  I can say I am sick of learning lessons but they have all been so valuable, how can I not embrace them?   

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Happy Birthday CC

My oldest baby turns 11 tomorrow and I can hardly believe it.  Sometimes it seems so long ago she was a little baby and other times it seems like it was just yesterday.  I drove up to Columbus today for appointments for her brother and on the way up I was thinking of CC, of her first years, of how time flies, of how life has changed so much from when I first became a mom. 

I remember so well the night I went into labor with her and her birth in the middle of the night.  Who knew how instantly my life would change for the better, how big my heart would grow, how infinately small I would feel when presented with the gift of fresh, new, sweet life.  Crave and I were newly married, I was barely 21, we lived in Columbus admist his old single college friends.  Did I mention single, yep, we were the lone married ones, and then we became parents.  Crave's friends were all starting their engineering careers, my friends were all still single and still in college.  And Crave and I welcomed a baby girl into our fun, busy city life.  I know when I first heard her cry,my world had just changed.  She reshaped my heart, she gave me a new pupose, a new focus.  This little tiny bald baby made me a mother, a mommy, a momma. 

My life is so different now, four kids, some knowledge of the different early stages, some foundation of parenting down, and a whole  group of fellow moms, moms in the trenches and my cheerleader or mentor moms, moms who have been where I am now and are encouraging me.  I didnt have that when I first became a mom.  I had the example and advice of my own mother but honestly I had not gained a full respect or appreciation for her as a mother yet.  I wanted to do things my own way and I had not yet come to fully recognize the beauty and treasure I was given in my own mother.  I look back at that young mom I was and I smile at what a beautiful gift I was given when I gave birth to CC.  In so many ways she made me and reshaped me. 

My baby is eleven.  My sweet curly redheaded little girl is now a young girl, almost a young woman.  She is such a treasure and such a light to me.  My sister and I call her our conscience sometimes.  CC is thoughtful and respectful, moral and modest, full of generosity and empathy.  She loves to make people feel good about themselves and she can be so silly.  I receive compliments on a continual basis about her from teachers and classmates' parents, friends and family and even complete strangers.  People who remark on her beauty or her manners or her giving spirit or kindness and service.  She has a true servant's heart and an openness for Jesus and the things of his spirit that  touches and encourages me. 

I have so many CC stories I could tell, stories that would make you roll on the floor laughing and stories that would make you cry sweet tears.  Stories that would challenge you to examine your own character and ask am I that mature or that generous?  Most of the stories I have written down to keep me going after my nest is empty.  But I also try to sometimes quiet myself and allow CC to speak for herself.  And believe me she could, the girl can talk to anyone, and often does.  I try very dilligently to allow CC to define and describe herself.  I do not want to put labels or defintions upon her.  I do not want soceity or her peers to put those labels on her either.  What I want is for her to examine and define her own self.  One of the most important characteristic I want each of my girls to have is confidence.  I value it and I strive for it for them.  I want CC to have confidence in who she is as a daughter and sister.  I want CC to have confidence in who she is as a person and friend.  And most importantly I want her to have confidence in who she is in the eyes of Christ and to have a perspective that knows she is loved and valued by God. 

CC is my first born, my beautiful girl who came and reshaped my world and my perspective and my heart.  She is a capable and giving child.  Her antics easily charm and disarm me.  Her eagerness to do good and be kind in extraordinary ways amaze and challenge me.  Her empathy and understanding for those less fortunate or hurting touch me and others deeply.  She has an incredible grasp on the depth of God's love and sacrifice for her and she willingly and knowningly shares this with others; her friends, family, strangers.  She has a desire to lead and organize and an uncanny abilty to make lists for everything.  (a trait from her father, no doubt) 

 I see her poised on the brink of teendom, but even more so on the brink of becoming a young woman.  It doesnt scare me because I see what a fine person she is becoming.  But it does make me reflect on those sweet baby and toddler moments, those moments with just her and Crave and I.  How quickly time came, how quickly time moved on.  I remember so sweetly holding her in my arms so long ago and now she is nearly as tall as me.  Our cuddling is definately different but still sweet.  Our talks are less and less negotioations and now more dynamic conversations.  I have watched her switch smoothly from only child to sibling.  Tonight, I watched her lovingly hold her baby brother and cuddle him and I had to catch my breath.  I remember snuggling her that way as a baby.  Gasp, time moves too quickly but yet at the correct speed.  I am thankful tonight for my beautiful oldest daugther and the change she brought to my life on a early Friday morning eleven years ago.  She made me "Momma" and how incredble is that! 


If you see her tomorrow or this weekend, wish her a happy birthday.  And let her know I didnt share any of her stories, not about oreos or pudding or penguins or removing casts or fish named Henry or sleeping beauty  or crushes.