On the Other Side of Worry

I've been trying to find the time to sit down and write this post since shortly after Ruby was born, but somehow I keep coming up short.  But it's something that I want to write down before the freshness of it escapes me. 

It's not uncommon to share feelings of grief, sadness and even self-pity surrounding your child's diagnosis.  And though I did feel some of those feelings when Cora was born, as time has gone by, the most charged emotions have surrounded how I feel about the first few months of Cora's life.  There has been so much trauma for me surrounding Cora's difficult delivery, her NICU stay, the heart failure that caused so much distress and difficulty, and the dreadful, paralyzing weeks of waiting for open heart surgery.  The first three months of Cora's life were so full of fear and heartache.  After that intense immediate fear was behind us and the euphoria hit, it took me awhile to realize that I was still grieving.  But I wasn't grieving that Cora wasn't what I wanted; I was grieving for an experience that I had wanted and didn't have.  I was grieving my idea of what having a child should be; snuggles and smiles, and time spent at home.  I even grieved for the standard sleepless nights and crying.  Most of all, I lamented that the introduction to the person that I loved like no other was so very hard and so terrifying.

And as selfish as it sounds, I have often found myself wallowing in self-pity.  When a friend or family member has welcomed a baby, instead of being able to just be happy to witness their joy, I would find myself crying in the car, and quietly confiding in my husband how very jealous I was to see everything going so well.  I ached for the typical experience, for falling in love with a healthy baby without worrying for their life, for how very easy it all seemed in comparison (even when I knew well that it's never really easy). 

And knowing this about me made me a little afraid for the birth of Cora's sister.  I definitely feared having to go through difficult medical challenges again, but in a way, I feared even more how I would feel if our second baby did not have a medically tumultuous beginning.  I worried that having Ruby might make me grieve for my experience with Cora even more.  And the thought that I would actively compare the two experiences made me feel like a traitor.

But what I actually felt surprised me.  Ruby was born after an intense but easy delivery, in the warm cocoon of my own home.  We didn't leave the bed for about three days, and then spent the first three weeks as a family of four while Nick stayed home from work.  So far Ruby has had only well child visits.  There have been no big medical scares, specialists or hospital stays.  The only health hiccups have been some reflux, and a short period of time where we needlessly worried about something totally typical.  In fact, on Sunday Ruby was the exact age that Cora was when she had her open heart surgery.  It's all been so seamless.  So lovely.  Hard yes, as we adjust to an increasingly independent and defiant three year old and a baby who is fussier than we've experienced and trying to juggle the two of them.  But sweet and mellow, and in all reality, much much easier.

And as for how I have felt about Cora?  At peace.  Getting my coveted "typical newborn experience" surprisingly didn't exacerbate my trauma over Cora's beginnings.  I didn't find myself comparing the two over tears and whispered confessions to Nick.  I found myself comparing a little, sure:  remembering how very tiny Cora was, reminiscing on her newborn sweetness, and smiling about the differences between my two girls.  But it didn't make me sad.  It didn't make me feel guilty.  In fact, it has somehow strangely started to heal my painful memories.

These experiences have been so different.  My girls are so different.  But they are both mine. And I am starting to be able to appreciate just how important these experiences have been, and just how intricately woven they are into one another and into myself.  Instead of re-visiting my pain I am finding myself soothed, stronger and more whole.  It must have been the plan all along.

My love: Cora, almost 12 weeks old, just before OHS.

My love: Ruby, almost 12 weeks old, playing with Grammie.

Buddy Walk!

We are wrapping the weekend around here as we celebrated Cora with her 4th Buddy Walk.

I can hardly believe it.  It was a very chaotic weekend, and though we are exhausted and a bit overwhelmed, it's impossible not to feel very loved.



The weekend itself was a little bit crazy.  Miss Ruby decided to scream through much of the walk and the time after, so we found ourselves seeking shade and lying down on a blanket on the cement to calm her down for a good portion of the festivities.  Oh, and I thought we lost Cora for a few minutes (who really was with her dad), so that caused a good panic.  And Cora came down with a new and exciting rash and swelling that took us to the ER instead of home after the walk. (But she is fine.)

But she did walk and run, dance and play, hula hoop and sing. And we loved seeing how far she has come.




Even though the weekend felt like all kinds of damage control, seeing my loved ones come out celebrate Cora is a feeling I don't think I will ever tire of.



I may not have quite the euphoria that other Buddy Walks have brought out, but I can honestly say that I am so grateful for the friends and family that came out to support us, the family members who came into town for the event, and for all our wonderful community friends. 

Thank you.

On Her Own Two Feet

 

This little girl has been learning how to get by on her own two feet so much this summer.  

It's quite amazing, really.  To think that she's only been a full-time independent walker since last November, seeing her racing around, climbing with confidence and exploring the world with her body is so impressive.

It's also been a little bit terrifying for me, and a pretty big lesson in learning to let go just a bit and to trust. 

During the last four months of my pregnancy we didn't do a whole lot.  Right when park-going season started, I began to have serious difficulty being on my feet.  So our daily 10-minute walks to the park turned into occasional drives to the park, where I'd hobble around after her.  For a long time they stopped altogether unless Nick could take her. 

What should have been the time for her to really start getting steady on those feet and on uneven surfaces became way more time in the house, and endless viewings of Frozen.  And there was lots of Mommy guilt about it.

When I was able to accompany Nick and Cora to the park at the end of the pregnancy and when Ruby was just born, I'd watch from the sidelines, having episodes of major anxiety and hiding my eyes as I saw that Cora no longer climbed up the stairs on the play structure on hands and knees, but walked up holding onto the railing.  Nick no longer followed her up to spot her, but stood down below the openings just in case.  I watched her hang onto the bars and swing her body over the tops of the slides, bear crawl up huge slides, and climb up structures with some pretty adept new skills. 

Knowing that she's still a bit unsteady sometimes, and that when she gets nervous around other kids she will slowly step back or to the side terrified me, as I envisioned her plummeting down the 40 foot drops by accident.  (OK, I know... it was probably only 6 feet at the most.)

I swore I'd never be able to handle taking both girls to the park alone; that my blood pressure just couldn't take it.

But over the past three weeks I've finally been brave enough.  And I must admit it, I'm pretty darn proud of this girl.

Proud of her spirit, of her joy, of her willingness to throw herself into new things, even if right now her new experiences are limited to the playground.



Very soon she'll be throwing herself into something entirely new.  Preschool.  Just the thought makes me start to shake a little.  She'll be starting at a cooperative preschool two mornings a week in September.  I'm pretty sure she will be the only kid with a disability.  I have a list of my worries (including safety on the playground and in the classroom, especially with her tendency to run).  But I think the strongest current of worry I have is how she'll fit in.  Will the other kids relate to her?  Will she make friends?  As a coop preschool, the parents are teachers in the classroom a couple times a month.  Will the other parents warm up to her, or will they feel that she's a burden?  Will I feel like the outsider as a "special needs mom"?  Does the fact that I am even having these thoughts mean that I am already setting us apart?

I really don't know how any of it will work out.  But I am hopeful.  I am excited for Cora and for these new opportunities.  I am excited to be finally starting her real organized educational experience, and for her to be included in a typical classroom, as a part of a community.

I am looking forward to seeing her plant her brave little feet on new ground and take off running.  I only hope I can keep up.

Cora and Ruby

I am almost three weeks into parenting two kids thing now, and I can safely say that I am quite terrified for tomorrow, when my amazing husband will be going back to work.

I've been trying to find a few minutes to post for more than a week and it always feels impossible.  At the moment Nick and Cora are at the grocery store, while I rock Ruby in her vibrating chair with my left foot, snuggle the cat and type at the same time. Impressive mostly because she usually only likes to sleep in my arms or in the sling.  And not quite as impressive as yesterday, when I swept and mopped one-handed while nursing her in the sling, but still.  And Cora was napping at the moment.... But I am learning to give myself high-fives whenever I can, considering that I am definitely getting taken down a few rungs pretty regularly, and I need a little boost to get through the rest of today on the four hours of sleep that are fueling me.

I've been wanting to post pictures, and write about the cuteness of Ruby's sleepy smiles and laughs, or about the amazing and shocking things she is so precociously doing.  (Oh, she's sleep-laughing right now, in between pirate-eyed peeks at me through her little left eye!  So cute!) 

But we'll see.... lowering my expectations for myself is the most reasonable thing to expect right now.

So instead of the post with reflections on the birth... perhaps I'll just offer a sweet little glimpse of Cora's little love fest with her new sister. 

She's been pretty sweet and mostly very gentle with her.  She is always asking to hold her, by holding up her hands to me.  When I ask if she wants to hold Ruby she answers, "Kay," with a smile.  But most of the time she will shy away when I actually try to put the baby in her lap.  Lately she's been getting a little braver, and actually holding her sister for a few seconds before she starts wanting to escape.  And I managed to finally capture the sweetness on camera. 

I am smitten with these girls.

We'll see how I feel about them by the end of the week, after a few days of being the stay-at-home parent alone once again.

Welcome Ruby Elizabeth!

Ruby was born on Tuesday, July 1st at 6:21 pm.  7 lbs, 14 ounces, and 20 inches of strawberry blonde girl.  She was born in our guest room in a birthing tub on a crazy hot 97 degree day, after a fast and very intense labor.  For those impressed with a natural unmedicated birth, I will be the first to say that for much of the labor I definitely questioned that decision.

But, oh, am I happy now.

Cora has been quite a lovely big sister.  Although she seemed excited to talk about "Baby Ruby" when she was inside me, I often wondered if she just thought that we called my big belly a baby.  I wasn't sure how surprised she would see to finally meet this little sister we'd been telling her about face-to face.  But she surprised me by not acting too surprised at all.  She came running into the birthing room to check out her new sister.

Shhhhhh.



Getting a closer look.

The last couple days have had a couple ups and downs for Cora.  While she seems excited about Ruby, and wants to kiss her and touch her, we have to make sure to watch very closely, since she isn't very careful and can get a little bit rough.  She's also had a few outbursts that are likely related to the changes around here.

Ruby and I have been snuggled up in bed for the past three days, with Ruby demanding to nurse constantly, and Cora wanting to lay on me and "help."  

Cora was very excited to celebrate Ruby's birth day with a little party, complete with her favorite song, "Happy Birthday!" and its must-have accompaniment: cake.

She's still singing "Happy Birthday" over here.  She was very excited that Ruby gave her a Frozen coloring book.

Cuddling with Daddy and "holding" her sister.

Being a great helper and putting on Ruby's socks.

Some glimpses of our newest girl.

I expect she'll be giving this look to Cora quite a lot.

For now, we are taking some time to settle into this new family of four, cuddle in at home and actually get some time to rest, recover and get used to the newest member of our family.  So far the differences between Cora and Ruby's introductions have been fairly dramatic.  But there is no doubt that as we were with Miss Cora, we are indeed, in love.

I will share more of her birth story and my thoughts as I have time to process them.  In the meantime, I am going to continue enjoying my new baby girl.

Waiting

Today I read an achingly beautiful article, that like most things it seems these days, had me weeping.

I am at the tail end of this long, long pregnancy, at last.  While with Cora I did not yet feel ready when she surprised us by coming just after 37 weeks, now I am waiting, waiting, waiting. 

I am still a week shy of my due date, but already to a time when I thought I'd be snuggled in with my baby, not still noticing the daily expansion of my surprisingly round belly.

Each day I wake up wondering if it will be today.  And I go to bed at night, only to wake the next morning (and several times through the night) with the same thoughts.

To read this article today finally gave some shape to the way I've been feeling.  Moody and weepy, short-tempered and sentimental.  Impatient and still afraid...  Feeling incapable of doing anything of value, and still feeling an urgent need to cling to and appreciate the little moments that make up these days.

I am standing on the precipice of waiting for my life to change, yet again.  There really is no comparison for the changes that becoming a mother effects.  No other transition I have gone through that has shifted and formed me, or changed me down to my very being.  Yet here I am, about to become a mother again.  Is that really right?  Am I becoming a mother once again?  It feels like it to me.

I know what it is to be Cora's mother so far.  But what do I know about this new baby?  I know her sweet bumpy hiccups, soft kicks and long stretches.  I know that she likes to kick her big sister, and sometimes tries to hide when another hand tries to sneak in and feel her movements.  I know that she has been in there for what feels like eternity, and that carrying her has seemed to bring my life to a stand-still.  I've been to a large extent off my feet for about four months now, wondering how my body and my sanity would make it to the end.  I've been feeling so much guilt for not having the same energy for my Cora Bean, missing out on the spring and most of the summer, and staying inside watching way too much television.  It has felt so long and so lonely, and honestly, so very hard.

It's so hard to believe that this phase will soon come to an end.  And even harder to believe that a new phase will begin.

In the meantime, I find my moments of real joy in the snuggles that I get with my lovely little three-year old.  I climb into my bed in between bed-time and nap-time and she happily follows me in for the sweetest of embraces and a few giggles.  Those moments are what are carrying me through.

And there are those moments when I realize (although still in a kind of disbelief) that I will soon be creating new moments of a joy with an entirely new person, a person that I will somehow love as much as I love my Cora.

It's in those moments that I know that this waiting is worthwhile.

On Mother's Day... What Makes a Mom

On this Mother's Day, as I am given the rare sweet opportunity to sleep in until 8:30 and eat a beautiful breakfast made by my awesome husband, I am reflecting with love on the ones that make motherhood so special to me.

My own mumma, who is the best inspiration and one of the most incredible blessings in my life.

Photograph by Shon Taylor

To my sweet little girl Cora, who changed my life and made me a mama, too.  Being her mother is the hardest, and most exquisitely wonderful thing in my life.

Photograph by Owls Eye Photography

And to my new sweet little baby girl, for now so small and wiggly, who is slowing me down and turning my life into what feels like a long waiting game... I can't wait to welcome you into our lives.

Photograph by Owls Eye Photography

Happy Mother's Day.

To see the beautiful project by Megan at Owls Eye Photography, please see "What Makes a Mom."  Thank you Megan, for the gorgeous photographs!