I love Sundays. If i'm lucky, Daddy watches all 3 boys and I go for a nice run before church, all by myself, no stroller, no bikes to keep up with, just me and my miles. Today, Daddy lay sleeping in bed, still recovering from spring football and i didn't have the heart to wake him just so i could get my fix. So i loaded up and prepared for a stroller workout: bottles, paci, toys, diaper and wipes, water babies sunscreen. We were off and as we were walking out the door, tucker asked if he could come along on his bike. My run was beginning to take shape as an "oh well, maybe later," kind of thing. But Tate was excited to have Tucker beside us, talking up a storm and we hadn't even made it down the hill.
Tucker is always asking me to tell him stories, remind him of things from the past, or write about him in my blog. i'm not sure if this is what he had in mind, but today i witnessed one of those moments that will become "one of those stories." We decided to head to the track where it's easier to push a stroller with a 25 pound baby. Well, here's when Tucker became my hero. Instead of logging my miles behind a baby jog, Tucker offered to take Tate and play with him under the Magnolia tree. I was on my own!!! Free to run--ALONE!!! Every lap around I came back to them and they were laughing, giggling, practicing Tate's walking, playing chase, and bouncing on the high jump mats. Tate didn't cry for me once. What a perfect morning, and running had nothing to do with it.
There's an ineffable amount of joy in watching your children laugh, seeing them happy. A parent is only as happy as his saddest child, but today we were all on the moon. Not only is there joy when all our kids are playing together, but for us there is also a lot of irony in watching those two play; that is the baby Tucker did not want. To say that he was distraught when he heard the news of a new baby doesn't even begin to describe that night. He left the table, locked himself in his room, and eventually asked (quite seriously, i'm afraid) if we could take the baby to an orphanage. Tanner, he insisted, was the only brother he wanted. My joy was squashed. How could i do this to my first born child, hurt him so, not even consider his feelings? Not even a sonogram was going to fix this. (Tanner you might ask, well he took it much better. As if to prove himself the "good child" said, "I don't care if we have another kid." That was it and marched off to play DS). HOurs later and a trip to Home Depot, Billy had saved the day. We would totally redo tucker's room in a Georgia theme. Problem solved? ehh, not quite. He still wasn't happy, but atleast he was talking to me.
I think about that night almost every day, because the baby Tucker didn't want is practically being raised by Tucker. Ever since I brought Tate home from the hospital and Tucker felt comfortable enough to touch him and hold him, he's been an ever present fixture in Tate's life. He picks out his clothes each morning, helps with bathtime, makes sure i have the camera ready for all the big moments, shares his snacks with him, scolds him for putting things in his mouth, and races to his bed each time he wakes from a nap. Tucker has been just as excited at each of Tate's milestones as I have from crawling, getting his first tooth, and now his first steps.
God is good, and i am fortunate enough to see it every day. For those of you with only one child right now, experiencing the unbelievable excitement in everything that child does, let me tell you. You know you are blessed, so thankful that God has allowed you to be a parent, bestowed upon you the most awesome responsibility and privilege imaginable. Now, imagine that joy ten fold, a hundred fold, even greater than that. That is what I am part of every time Tucker and Tanner play with Tate.
Several years ago, Billy began reading and repeating the Prayer of Jabez, following the author's advice on how to ask God to bless our lives and do great things. The prayer goes something like this:
"And Jabez called upon the God of Israel saying, "Oh that You would bless me indeed,
and enlarge my territory. . . so God granted him what he requested." God always answers our prayers, just not always in the way we think He will. Not too long after he brought that prayer into our lives, Tate was born.
Now if that isn't an answered prayer, I don't know what is:)
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Watching a Miracle Grow
i know i've written about Tanner already, but after the news i got this week i just couldn't help myself. I came home from a crazy but typical morning and sat down with tate to check my e-mail-- a message from Tanner's teacher: his CRCT (state test) results. Before i clicked on the message, i couldn't help but think about a 1 pound, 13 ounce baby boy, a baby born 15 weeks early and all the fears we once had.
The doctors didn't beat around the bush with me about Tanner's future. A host of problems awaited him, if he survived. And for 17 weeks, he kept us wondering. He couldn't seem to breathe on his own, though the doctors tried often to wean him off the different oxygen machines he had available. He couldn't tolerate breast milk or formula through his feeding tube and was forced to rely on nutrition through an IV. Ironically, the nutrients in that IV were so strong that after too long they would begin to take a toll on his kidneys and liver. The amount of oxygen he needed caused the blood vessels in his eyes to grow, threatening to cause his retinae to detach. Surgery was definitely a possibility. He couldn't stand having a ventilator down his throat, and when he was strong enough would wind his tiny fingers around the tube and Yank!, just enough to pull it out and cause distress and monitors to sound, subsequently leading to paralytic drugs and morphine to ease the discomfort. Perhaps most frightening was that all that oxygen would very likely cause some damage to his brain, and cerebral palsy was a condition that loomed over our heads. He had to get better; We had to come to grips with the fact that the very things that were keeping him alive were also damaging his tiny little body.
But then, after 17 weeks of tubes, machines, pokes and prods, Tanner came home. It was as if one day he just decided it was time to get better and go home. Before they would let him go home, though, the doctors ordered 5 brains scans(they wanted to be 100% positive); they found NOTHING, no damage, no brain bleeds! Was it a miracle? We had certainly prayed for one, but would Tanner fare as well in all the other areas where preemies struggle?
Flashforward 7 years to the e-mail from Mrs. Matovina informing me that Tanner has EXCEEDED in all areas of his tests!! The baby who was predicted to need speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy blew the test out of the water (my words, not theirs:)). The baby we were just glad to LEAVE the hospital with reads chapter books above grade level. The kid who tried to break the record at the NICU for longest stay made a 100 on his Math benchmark earlier this year. The kid who never needed the Oxygen machine they sent us home with plays baseball and football and rides a Razor scooter with reckless abandon, like a kid trying out for the X games.
Was it a miracle? Do miracles happen today? It's funny how we take a word and change its context. "It's a miracle I passed that test!" or "It's a miracle we won a game." The word is so loosely thrown around that maybe i'm a little guilty of taking MY miracle for granted, but I'll never, ever forget what we all went through for 17 weeks, on pins and needles, waiting for something to happen, waiting on a miracle. Today, Tanner is a typical kid who does typical things a 7 year old does. He disobeys, he talks back, he laughs alot, he helps alot, he loves alot. It's easy to forget that we were so close to losing that precious baby, that I could have been one of those moms who as Erma Bombeck says,"had to give a baby back." I get goosebumps just typing those words. So whether he exceeded the standards or simply met them, whether he strikes out or hits a home run, I'm just relishing every moment, sitting back and watching my miracle grow.
The doctors didn't beat around the bush with me about Tanner's future. A host of problems awaited him, if he survived. And for 17 weeks, he kept us wondering. He couldn't seem to breathe on his own, though the doctors tried often to wean him off the different oxygen machines he had available. He couldn't tolerate breast milk or formula through his feeding tube and was forced to rely on nutrition through an IV. Ironically, the nutrients in that IV were so strong that after too long they would begin to take a toll on his kidneys and liver. The amount of oxygen he needed caused the blood vessels in his eyes to grow, threatening to cause his retinae to detach. Surgery was definitely a possibility. He couldn't stand having a ventilator down his throat, and when he was strong enough would wind his tiny fingers around the tube and Yank!, just enough to pull it out and cause distress and monitors to sound, subsequently leading to paralytic drugs and morphine to ease the discomfort. Perhaps most frightening was that all that oxygen would very likely cause some damage to his brain, and cerebral palsy was a condition that loomed over our heads. He had to get better; We had to come to grips with the fact that the very things that were keeping him alive were also damaging his tiny little body.
But then, after 17 weeks of tubes, machines, pokes and prods, Tanner came home. It was as if one day he just decided it was time to get better and go home. Before they would let him go home, though, the doctors ordered 5 brains scans(they wanted to be 100% positive); they found NOTHING, no damage, no brain bleeds! Was it a miracle? We had certainly prayed for one, but would Tanner fare as well in all the other areas where preemies struggle?
Flashforward 7 years to the e-mail from Mrs. Matovina informing me that Tanner has EXCEEDED in all areas of his tests!! The baby who was predicted to need speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy blew the test out of the water (my words, not theirs:)). The baby we were just glad to LEAVE the hospital with reads chapter books above grade level. The kid who tried to break the record at the NICU for longest stay made a 100 on his Math benchmark earlier this year. The kid who never needed the Oxygen machine they sent us home with plays baseball and football and rides a Razor scooter with reckless abandon, like a kid trying out for the X games.
Was it a miracle? Do miracles happen today? It's funny how we take a word and change its context. "It's a miracle I passed that test!" or "It's a miracle we won a game." The word is so loosely thrown around that maybe i'm a little guilty of taking MY miracle for granted, but I'll never, ever forget what we all went through for 17 weeks, on pins and needles, waiting for something to happen, waiting on a miracle. Today, Tanner is a typical kid who does typical things a 7 year old does. He disobeys, he talks back, he laughs alot, he helps alot, he loves alot. It's easy to forget that we were so close to losing that precious baby, that I could have been one of those moms who as Erma Bombeck says,"had to give a baby back." I get goosebumps just typing those words. So whether he exceeded the standards or simply met them, whether he strikes out or hits a home run, I'm just relishing every moment, sitting back and watching my miracle grow.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
What I Really Want for Mother's Day
So I just got back from a stroll/ bicycle ride/ scooter ride through town with all three boys. I could tell by the looks of the people who passed us that perhaps I was crazy, or maybe that was pity in their eyes as I jogged behind the stroller, chasing after Tucker on the scooter and Tanner on his bike, yelling for them to "stay to the left! stay to the left!" The temperature was almost 90, there were no sidewalks, and once you get into town, there's no turning back. Forty-five minutes and two BIG hills later, we were home, sweaty, thirsty, and maybe a little grouchy. Perfect way to start Mother's Day, right?
Every mom knows there are highs and lows, good days and bad ones to being a mom. Today's excursion counted as both, one moment we were having a great time, sampling the honeysuckles and having races, the next we were arguing over which road to turn on. But Mother's Day is supposed to be that one day of the year filled with nothing but Hallmark moments and Kodak smiles. According to the advertisers, we should be opening diamond necklaces, eating at coat and tie restaurants, and having a mani/pedi while listening to Yanni. That's all well and good, but i'm a little more low maintenance and a lot more realistic than that.
Luckily this year, Billy asked me to make out a schedule, hour by hour, of how I'd like to spend my mother's day. No problem, but it got me thinking of what would make a perfect mother's day, not just tomorrow but every day.
1. a loooong run, with no cell phone, no time to be home, and no worry that Tate will have his dirty diaper while in Daddy's care. Daddy has a very weak stomach.
2. a great tan and no more "baby weight" in a swimsuit that i actually like.
3. No spills for a whole day. Especially Kool-aid on a just mopped floor.
4. Laundry-- I don't even mind doing it, but not having to walk through all 12 rooms of this house looking for(and smelling for) what is dirty.
5. Cooking-- I don't mind cooking, but not having any up-turned noses would be great. Tell me that you LOVE Mamwich and Ruffles for supper. Don't ask me what else you can have:(
6. No trampoline-rule breaking. Come on guys, you know the rules. 2 at a time, no wrestling, no pushing or shoving. Keep your clothes on. Don't make me say it again.
7. No neighborhood referreeing. Look, if you can't get along with the kids next door, just don't play with them. Unless there is bloodshed, do I really need to get involved?
8. No Disney channel sitcoms and preferably no references to them either. Zach and Cody are sending our kids to hell in a handbag, and I think i've had enough.
9. Could we just once know where our shoes are when it's time to leave? just once, guys? and speaking of shoes could you tie them on your own???
All that would certainly make my day a little easier, but I never signed up for easy. I signed up to be a Mom and what I really want for Mother's day, oddly enough, is for nothing to change. I wake up every day to snotty, drooly teeth-coming in kisses as i fight with Tucker and Tanner for Tate's attention. He loves his Mom, but Tucker and Tanner are giving me a run for my money. I'm always first to hear the latest elementary school jokes, I have a front row seat to the best sporting events in town, and I never dine alone. Heck, I never do anything alone. And according to their Mother's Day poems and compositions, I'm pretty awesome. So I guess I already have what I really want for Mother's day. They're 9,7, and 10 months old and Hallmark cards and diamonds can't touch what they give me every day.
Thank you, God for the awesome privilege of being Tucker, Tanner, and Tate's mother.
Every mom knows there are highs and lows, good days and bad ones to being a mom. Today's excursion counted as both, one moment we were having a great time, sampling the honeysuckles and having races, the next we were arguing over which road to turn on. But Mother's Day is supposed to be that one day of the year filled with nothing but Hallmark moments and Kodak smiles. According to the advertisers, we should be opening diamond necklaces, eating at coat and tie restaurants, and having a mani/pedi while listening to Yanni. That's all well and good, but i'm a little more low maintenance and a lot more realistic than that.
Luckily this year, Billy asked me to make out a schedule, hour by hour, of how I'd like to spend my mother's day. No problem, but it got me thinking of what would make a perfect mother's day, not just tomorrow but every day.
1. a loooong run, with no cell phone, no time to be home, and no worry that Tate will have his dirty diaper while in Daddy's care. Daddy has a very weak stomach.
2. a great tan and no more "baby weight" in a swimsuit that i actually like.
3. No spills for a whole day. Especially Kool-aid on a just mopped floor.
4. Laundry-- I don't even mind doing it, but not having to walk through all 12 rooms of this house looking for(and smelling for) what is dirty.
5. Cooking-- I don't mind cooking, but not having any up-turned noses would be great. Tell me that you LOVE Mamwich and Ruffles for supper. Don't ask me what else you can have:(
6. No trampoline-rule breaking. Come on guys, you know the rules. 2 at a time, no wrestling, no pushing or shoving. Keep your clothes on. Don't make me say it again.
7. No neighborhood referreeing. Look, if you can't get along with the kids next door, just don't play with them. Unless there is bloodshed, do I really need to get involved?
8. No Disney channel sitcoms and preferably no references to them either. Zach and Cody are sending our kids to hell in a handbag, and I think i've had enough.
9. Could we just once know where our shoes are when it's time to leave? just once, guys? and speaking of shoes could you tie them on your own???
All that would certainly make my day a little easier, but I never signed up for easy. I signed up to be a Mom and what I really want for Mother's day, oddly enough, is for nothing to change. I wake up every day to snotty, drooly teeth-coming in kisses as i fight with Tucker and Tanner for Tate's attention. He loves his Mom, but Tucker and Tanner are giving me a run for my money. I'm always first to hear the latest elementary school jokes, I have a front row seat to the best sporting events in town, and I never dine alone. Heck, I never do anything alone. And according to their Mother's Day poems and compositions, I'm pretty awesome. So I guess I already have what I really want for Mother's day. They're 9,7, and 10 months old and Hallmark cards and diamonds can't touch what they give me every day.
Thank you, God for the awesome privilege of being Tucker, Tanner, and Tate's mother.
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