Elise is really into space shuttles these days. Peppered through my day are questions like, "do the astronauts get to choose to sometimes go to space or sometimes do things at home?" She thinks that any lights she sees zooming across the sky at night are space shuttles. I keep my mouth shut and let her continue this belief. And in exchange, I get a count each morning of the number of space shuttles she saw while looking out her window at night.
Elise quote of the week:
"When I grow up and am an engineer before I'm a mommy, I'm going to make all of the rockets and space shuttles pink because pink is my favorite color. Were the rockets and space shuttles blue when you were an engineer?"
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Journal - After Wyatt's Letter
"Ther is a time for everything . . . a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance." Ecclesiastes 3:1,4
It’s done. I’ve finally written my blog letter to Wyatt.
I’ve been planning on writing him one since before his birth. Wanting to leave him something that he can read someday. Wanting to make him feel the gushy warm love of his mommy.
But it took me over a month to catch more than a moment of gushy love. I just haven’t felt much. For the last month I’ve been sliced up, drugged up, and beat up. If I had to pick a word to sum up the month of my son’s birth, it world be “pain”.
I’m still in pain. And I’m angry. Angry that I was knocked out during Wyatt’s birth. Angry that I missed the normal happy meeting of mother and baby and instead barely remember anything but the pain.
And what I do remember fills me with another emotion, guilt. Guilt that I refused to hold my son because I just hurt too bad. Guilt that I refused to see my kids and missed out on their birthday cupcakes the day Wyatt was born. Guild that it took me over a month to feel happy enough about Wyatt’s birth to write him a letter.
Jeffrey assures me that it was the drugs that made me crazy and I can’t hold myself responsible. I know that he is right. But that might free me from guilt, but it doesn't give me back anything that I've lost.
It’s done. I’ve finally written my blog letter to Wyatt.
I’ve been planning on writing him one since before his birth. Wanting to leave him something that he can read someday. Wanting to make him feel the gushy warm love of his mommy.
But it took me over a month to catch more than a moment of gushy love. I just haven’t felt much. For the last month I’ve been sliced up, drugged up, and beat up. If I had to pick a word to sum up the month of my son’s birth, it world be “pain”.
I’m still in pain. And I’m angry. Angry that I was knocked out during Wyatt’s birth. Angry that I missed the normal happy meeting of mother and baby and instead barely remember anything but the pain.
And what I do remember fills me with another emotion, guilt. Guilt that I refused to hold my son because I just hurt too bad. Guilt that I refused to see my kids and missed out on their birthday cupcakes the day Wyatt was born. Guild that it took me over a month to feel happy enough about Wyatt’s birth to write him a letter.
Jeffrey assures me that it was the drugs that made me crazy and I can’t hold myself responsible. I know that he is right. But that might free me from guilt, but it doesn't give me back anything that I've lost.
To Wyatt
Dear Wyatt,
Oh my sweet little child. You and I may have just met, but I feel like you should be writing this blog with me - not reading it many years down the road. The story of a rogue placenta gone bad and all the scary possibilities turned good is just the beginning of the story of me and you. You - oblivious, me - scared and overwhelmed. You - born just perfect, me - a bit beat up. You - sweet, adorable, wrinkled and precious beyond words, me - grateful.
I love you little man. You are my last chance to dance, bare stomach to stomach with soft newborn skin. My chance to realize again that pictures cannot replicate the funny little faces that leave me adoring adorable you. You are the completion of our family.
The day we brought you home from the hospital, we didn't just bring you to your new house, we brought you into your new family. Your older brother Zion ran to get the magnet with your name on it off of the refridgerator and put it close to you - your label as the long awaited for "baby Wyatt". Your big sis Elise studies you, narrating your moves and sounds while giving suggestions for your care. Your Daddy captures your beginnings through pictures sent to friends and family everywhere. And I nurse you, swaddle you, and change your diapers - grateful that your care falls to me and so I am the one to sing you songs in the middle of the night and catch your flitting smiles. I don't think I've pawned off a single of your diaper changes, you are mine through the mundane of our life today, and the drama leading up to this moment.
You are my son. And I'm your mommy. I am so grateful for precious little you.
Love,
your Mommy
Oh my sweet little child. You and I may have just met, but I feel like you should be writing this blog with me - not reading it many years down the road. The story of a rogue placenta gone bad and all the scary possibilities turned good is just the beginning of the story of me and you. You - oblivious, me - scared and overwhelmed. You - born just perfect, me - a bit beat up. You - sweet, adorable, wrinkled and precious beyond words, me - grateful.
I love you little man. You are my last chance to dance, bare stomach to stomach with soft newborn skin. My chance to realize again that pictures cannot replicate the funny little faces that leave me adoring adorable you. You are the completion of our family.
The day we brought you home from the hospital, we didn't just bring you to your new house, we brought you into your new family. Your older brother Zion ran to get the magnet with your name on it off of the refridgerator and put it close to you - your label as the long awaited for "baby Wyatt". Your big sis Elise studies you, narrating your moves and sounds while giving suggestions for your care. Your Daddy captures your beginnings through pictures sent to friends and family everywhere. And I nurse you, swaddle you, and change your diapers - grateful that your care falls to me and so I am the one to sing you songs in the middle of the night and catch your flitting smiles. I don't think I've pawned off a single of your diaper changes, you are mine through the mundane of our life today, and the drama leading up to this moment.
You are my son. And I'm your mommy. I am so grateful for precious little you.
Love,
your Mommy
A New November
November marked a new beginning for our family. Our entire family is home! For the first time in 3 months I . . . cooked dinner, helped with bathtime, cleaned the house, did dishes, played at the park, drove a car, and went out to a restaraunt with Jeffrey. It is the beginning of good times for our family.
Wyatt and I in his hospital room. He spent 6 days there recovery from RSV. I slept in his room and tried to recover from my recent hysterectomy. We later learned that he had the misfortune of being the very first reported case of RSV for the season.
Aunt Lori flew in to help out for a week and a half. The kids and I wish badly that she lived closer and could play with the kids every day. They love the attention, and I love the help!
My mom arrived just before Wyatt and I came home from his stay for RSV. She helped to nurse me back to health again. Thank you Mom!
Wyatt and I in his hospital room. He spent 6 days there recovery from RSV. I slept in his room and tried to recover from my recent hysterectomy. We later learned that he had the misfortune of being the very first reported case of RSV for the season.
Aunt Lori flew in to help out for a week and a half. The kids and I wish badly that she lived closer and could play with the kids every day. They love the attention, and I love the help!
My mom arrived just before Wyatt and I came home from his stay for RSV. She helped to nurse me back to health again. Thank you Mom!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
October
Catch up time -
I thought our rough road had ended after Wyatt was born. But life has continued to throw us some curves. October has been rough. But I will just a quick summary and then move on to happier posts as we move on to happier times.
Oct. 5 - Wyatt is born! We rejoice. He is a 5 lb 9 oz little ball of joy. I am in some very serious pain for a couple of days.
Oct. 9 - I'm release from the hospital. I get to visit home, but stay the nights in a room at the Special Care Nursery so I can nurse Wyatt.
Oct. 12 - Wyatt comes home.
Oct. 16 - I develop spiking fevers.
Oct. 20 - Zion visits the ER due to trouble breathing
Oct. 21 - My recurring fevers land me a trip to the doctors and a spot on the surgery schedule for the next day.
Oct. 22 - Hysterectomy
Oct. 25 - I go home from the hospital, again.
Oct. 27 - Wyatt gets checked into the hospital with breathing trouble due to RSV.
Nov. 1 - Wyatt and I come home. We hope for good.
I thought our rough road had ended after Wyatt was born. But life has continued to throw us some curves. October has been rough. But I will just a quick summary and then move on to happier posts as we move on to happier times.
Oct. 5 - Wyatt is born! We rejoice. He is a 5 lb 9 oz little ball of joy. I am in some very serious pain for a couple of days.
Oct. 9 - I'm release from the hospital. I get to visit home, but stay the nights in a room at the Special Care Nursery so I can nurse Wyatt.
Oct. 12 - Wyatt comes home.
Oct. 16 - I develop spiking fevers.
Oct. 20 - Zion visits the ER due to trouble breathing
Oct. 21 - My recurring fevers land me a trip to the doctors and a spot on the surgery schedule for the next day.
Oct. 22 - Hysterectomy
Oct. 25 - I go home from the hospital, again.
Oct. 27 - Wyatt gets checked into the hospital with breathing trouble due to RSV.
Nov. 1 - Wyatt and I come home. We hope for good.
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