Another Year

It's that time of year again. I'm not talking about the New Year (as in 2010) - I am completely caught up in THE new year (as in, the little boys will be 6 years old tomorrow!). There have been plenty of opportunities for reflection these past few weeks as this special day approaches. And I have been as weepy as always as I am reminded how miraculous their existence is and recall their fragile entry into this world. We've watched some videos of their babyhood, looked at photos, remembered.


I am so proud and humbly grateful for who they are becoming. Something that happened just this afternoon, simple and relatively insignificant to anyone else, brought tears to my eyes as we sat in a busy waiting room full of children with a broad range of disabilities, some very significant . A small act of grace by a 5 (almost 6 :) year old boy. Without prompting from a parent, without knowledge he was being watched - just sweet and genuine concern for the well being of another child, his lovely little heart in the right place.


And later over our evening meal, a discussion about a new child at school. A child who is having trouble adjusting and has been acting out, not too kindly, to those around. A telling of a talk with a teacher and a decision to show this child kindness in return, despite the mean spirited things being done, so this child might learn - by their example - to use words and be peaceful. (I might add here that I adore this lovely and gracious teacher who so clearly lives and shares the very best vision of Maria Montessori).


Small, simple daily tasks that are too difficult for a little boy with a broken arm (guess who) - being done for him by his brothers - every day - without being asked.


I could be here all night making this list but the point is this - I adore these amazing little boys. And I am thankful, so very thankful for the privilege of watching them grow into such wonderful human beings.


It's going to be a GREAT new year!

Picture Memories - H

The biggest of our babies at birth, H weighed in at 3# 13 ounces. He had a head (and body) full of hair and the round cheeks of a little chipmunk stocking up for winter. In appearance, the most durable of the babies, now our smallest little boy - our firstborn son - is the kindest, and most gentle of our brood. He has a compassionate heart and striking blue eyes. A personality that can charm the socks off ya and a passion for numbers that is quickly exceeding my mathematical abilities. His true love is baseball and he is always thinking or dreaming about it (he has actually told me that I will be watching him play baseball on television when he is bigger - and that I should wave to him). He is one amazing little boy. Here are a few pictures of his beginning and one captured just a few days ago...

Birth Day

Bonding

Snuggle Bug

My Sweet Boy

He's already breaking my heart with those eyes...

Monday Memory (a few days later)

I missed this Monday past for my memory post. I'm barely getting the necessities done around here so blogging has fallen to the bottom of the to do list. But check out this picture (above) taken sometime in the first couple of weeks after the boys all came home. Don't I look so - I dunno, stupidly calm, optimistic, joyful that I have three infants dependant upon me for survival? I had no idea what was coming. I have no recollection of this photo being taken. The entire first year is a blur. I do remember how grateful I felt that all the boys were home and healthy. I feel that gratitude even now as I recognize how blessed we are. Also I feel exhausted - but I'm trying to focus on grateful. And how can you not be grateful for such cuteness (photo below).

Monday Memory - Baby B

under the lights for jaundice treatment (aka the tanning bed)

Birth Day

first bath (2 days old)

3 1/2 years old (at the beach last summer)

One of the things I remember about B is how laid back he always seemed in the hospital. Honestly, had he not been hooked up to a monitor I woud have been checking for a pulse. The first to progress to room air and an open bed, he seemed to coast through the checklist of things he needed to accomplish in order to come home. The majority of his time in the nursery was spent getting bigger. And he did this well. Not the biggest (length or weight) at birth, he very soon overtook his brothers in both. Still at least an inch taller and a few pounds heavier than H or C, he is often mistaken for the older brother of twins. B's was the first diaper that Kelly ever changed - in his life. Through the arm holes of an isolette, it was no easy task. He (B) was the first of my babies that I bathed. Two days after his birth, I walked (very, very slowly) into the NICU and his nurse was just getting ready to bathe him. She asked if I wanted to do it - of course, I said yes. He was so tiny! Once the boys came home, there was a period of time that I wondered if this was the same baby. Always easy going at the hospital, B was our colic baby at home. His lungs got lots of exercise in those early weeks and I was more than a little scared of what was to come. Just like in the nursery, he has continued to thrive. He is the healthiest kid I know. And this brings me to another memory that is heart breakingly sweet and was a revelation to me just how much each of my little boys needs to feel special in his own right. H and C have had their share of chronic health concerns. Asthma and allergies kept us very busy with appointments to various specialists in addition to the pediatrician. Both have had multiple visits to urgent care and the ER as well. B, on the other hand, has been to the pediatrician maybe 3 times outside of well checks in all of his 4 years. So we're sitting in the kitchen one evening not long after one of the other boys had been to urgent care for something I can't even remember and B falls off the stool at the counter. I should note here that he's a bit dramatic about everything so hysteria over a stubbed toe is common. On this night, he hurt his finger. After attempting to comfort him and asking him a series of questions about where it hurt, having him squeeze my hand, feeling around, he was still pretty fired up. He insisted that he needed to go to the doctor. Alone. With me. And I realized that in his mind, every time I left with one of his brothers to go to a doctors appointment, that child was spending time alone with Mommy and he was not. So to the doctor we went - sort of. It was after hours and I seriously doubted this needed urgent care but I did not have the heart to tell him we were not going anywhere together. So I offered a stop for dinner in the way. We had a wonderful "date" at a local restaurant without a hint of pain in the finger. As we got back in the car, I mentioned that I thought he was going to be okay and maybe we should go on home. It was a lesson I keep with me as these little babies have become little boys. And the inspiration for dates with Mom (and Dad) that we try to plan with each child individually as often as schedules allow. B is still a little dramatic though these days it is more imaginative. He tells amazing stories with great detail and he is one of the coolest kids I know!

Happy Valentine's Day

I just found these... they are the first Valentine's cards we received as parents (2004)

(kindly made for us by the nurses at Northside Hospital)

Monday Memory

As we prepare for this year's March for Babies (formerly WalkAmerica), I've been recalling the early weeks of our boys' lives. Much like their birthday, this time leading up to the walk and the realization of the incredible gift we have been given causes me reflect on where we've been, what we've been through to get where we are today. In an effort to document some of these thoughts and memories, post more regularly, and to share the commitment we have made by choosing to support the March of Dimes by walking each year, I am going to start having "Monday Memory". While looking at some pictures from our NICU days this morning, I was overwhelmed by the raw emotion I still experience when I see their tiny little bodies, covered with tubes for nourishing, medicating, breathing, in plastic boxes (isolettes). I took a lot of close ups then so it is hard to tell how small and fragile they really were. There are a few [pictures] though with my or Kelly's hand, a regular sized (small) Ty Beanie Baby or some other normal sized thing in the picture as well and the perspective from those is shocking - and I was there - but it still is incredible for me to see. I think because I am so far removed from it now that is is kind of surreal to look at these crazy, healthy, wild, smart and unique 4 year old boys and know that they are lucky, blessed, to be alive at all.

C, our smallest and least stable baby (his NICU experience was filled with peaks and valleys, a roller coaster of good and bad days without any indication how things would ultimately turn for him) is the most amazing, determined, silly, sweet and stubborn little boy I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have never articulated this to anyone, but there was a day that I went to see him - the morning after we'd received a midnight call telling us he was being moved back to Intensive Care from a less critical nursery - when I looked at my tiny baby and my heart was gripped with fear, pain and completely breaking because for the first time in the 4 weeks since the boys had been born, I did not know if we would bring them all home. It was the first (and only, I think) time I broke down - I mean really lost it - in the NICU. This was compounded by the fact that the nurse caring for him that day was the only one (out of many to whom I owe so much for their exceptional care of our boys) who I had previously felt was inattentive, distracted, patronizing (to Kelly and I) and - I realize this is harsh, but it was how I felt at the time - incompetent. Here was this baby of mine, desperately wanted and loved, whose life was literally hanging in the balance. There was not one thing I could do to protect him, to fix him, to save him. It was my worst day. I'd like to say that I felt comforted by the love and support of our families, by the prayers from all over the world for our boys, but at that moment, I had never felt so alone and unsure of what to do. There was nothing I could do. So that is what I did. Nothing. Nothing but sit and wait, next to the baby I could no longer hold because he was again full of tubes, and pray and hope and plead and beg for mercy and wait some more. If you've been to our blog before, you know that he [C] did come home with us and is our craziest punk of the bunch. There are lots of pictures of him as he is today (cute, huh?). Here are a few from his first days. We've come a long way Baby...

Together At Last

February 2004 - Hospital Special Care Nursery
H, B and C (so little!) together in an open bed - a very happy day

Birth Day

4 years and one week ago, after 31 weeks of pregnancy that included just over 9 weeks as a hospital inpatient (spanning Thanksgiving, Christmas and the move into a new home), H, B and C were ready to make their way into this world. Despite the odds against it (based on my medical history and the various complications I'd experienced during pregnancy), the boys and I had made it well beyond the expectations of my physicians and H had had enough. He was the lowest of the babies, his brothers stacked (literally) on top of him. For only the second time during my hospitalization, Kelly had insisted on spending the night there with me. I insisted he go home, it was a weeknight and he would have to get up incredibly early to get to work the next day. We (he) had just moved to our new house and there were boxes to go through, things to put away. The "guest bed" in my room was terribly uncomfortable and I thought it made no sense to stay over for no good reason. He stood his ground and stayed. Little did I know...just after 2 AM my water would break. I said Kelly's name - one time - and he jumped straight up awake (and those who know him recognize the oddity of this). He found my nurse and things began to move quickly after that. At 4:31, 4:32, and 4:33 in the morning H, B and C were delivered respectively. H and B made their presence known right away - I was surprised at thankful the urgency of their little tiny cries. C was quieter (a frightening "sound" for a new mother) and all were whisked away immediately to be assessed by their own medical teams. Kelly was able to walk over to see them, to ask questions, to observe. I was still on the OR table unable to see anything going on with my precious little boys. I tried hard to listen and figure out what was going on. I was prepared for this. I'd spent several years working in and around NICUs, I understood what was happening and why. But I was not a part of it in any way. Long before my post operative procedures were completed, the boys had been moved to the NICU. Once certain I was okay, Kelly followed the boys. He reported back to me later that morning about their status. Weighing in at 3# 13 ounces and 17.5 inches long, H was our "big boy", B was not far behind at 3# 11 ounces and 16.75 inches. C, whose intrauterine growth had been restricted through the last 2 weeks of ultrasounds was 2# 15 ounces and 16.75 inches. All had been intubated initially but H and B had quickly progressed to a nasal cannula. C was still intubated. Initial tests showed no signs of cardiac abnormality or brain bleeds (whew). I was abe to visit with them for the first time that night. The helpless feeling of being wheelchair bound while looking at your prematurely born babies through the Plexiglas of an isolette will forever be branded on my heart. I have acutely vivid memories of certain things/events over the next 6 weeks of their hospitalization. Much of it is a blur though. The long, and I mean loooong walk to and between the NICU and nurseries (C remained in NICU while H and B were moved to a less critical nursery on the opposite end of the 3rd floor), stopping every few steps to catch my breath two days after my C-section because I could not wait for someone to arrive with a wheelchair my need to be with my babies was so so great, the thrill of C finally moving into the same nursery (though not yet in an open bed) as his brothers, the terror at receiving a midnight call from his doctors to let us know he was going back to Intensive Care and would likely need a blood transfusion during the night, the cautiously optimistic hope that his move back with his brothers would be tolerated, the heart of gratitude and relief when he (C) finally moved out of his isolette and into an open bed with his brothers after 4 weeks of separation and a roller coaster of medical backslides, nursing my sweet babies, pumping around the clock with the hope that they would receive only my breast milk during this very critical time, the joy and sadness of bringing home two babies (H and B) while leaving one behind, the overwhelming peace at bringing C home and having our whole family together for the very first time. It was so long ago and yet I still experience the full range of emotion as if it has just happened. Particularly when I am looking into the faces of little boys - not babies anymore. This is a bit of a rambly post - I know, they all are really :) Trying to get a handle on what I am feeling now as the mother of 4 year old boys. We are all growing up and there is a strange sensation of time standing still and moving at warp speed simultaneously. So I will consider it a little longer and try to be more cohesive in the next post...check back soon for more Mama Drama

Remembering

We celebrated the boys' 4th birthday on Monday (1/7). I have been so overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions (it's kind of out of control actually) and I am trying to sort through it and post about their Birth Day...the draft is in progress. I'll try and get it posted by the weekend....cross your fingers :)

Sweet Boys

B (4 weeks old??)

C

H

Tearfully and joyfully remembering the boys' Birth Day as we prepare for their birthday tomorrow. 4 years old - WOW!

Our Little Elves

H & B (3 weeks old)

C (12 days old - he still sleeps this way!)

I cannot believe they will be 4 years old in a few weeks...sniff, sniff, boo hoo - where have my babies gone??

Sweet Dreams

I watch the boys sleeping and I am in awe of the beauty before me, the blessing to have these sweet boys here with me. There is no way to explain the hole in your heart when you must leave the hospital without your babies. Born at 31 weeks, each of the boys had varying degrees of medical complications due to their prematurity. They spent 6 weeks in the NICU where I visited with them everyday. At first, they were all in different places (the hospital where they were born has multiple NICUs and nurseries). Visiting times were strictly enforced to limit disruption to the babies schedules and care. I would rush from one to the next, trying to have time with each of my babies before the allotted time was up. I would sing to them a song that they still love today (and the only one they will tolerate me singing now). They know it is their special "baby song" and ask me to sing it to them often while holding them like a baby...

Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)

Dixie Chicks

Dragon tales and the "water is wide"

Pirate's sail and lost boys fly

Fish bite moonbeams every night

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Sweet dreams

The rocket racer's all tuckered out

Superman's in pajamas on the couch

Goodnight moon, we'll find the mouse

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Sweet dreams

God bless Mommy and match box cars

God bless Dad and thanks for the stars

God hears "Amen," wherever we are

And I love you

Godspeed, little man

Sweet dreams, little man

Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings

Godspeed

Godspeed

Godspeed

Sweet dreams