Jude's 2nd Christmas

Jude makes everything amazing. His presence enhances even the smallest detail of a day. He adds joy where it's missing. This year, Christmas was a bit of a sore spot in our family with Poppop gone. It was our first Christmas without him. Poppop always loved Christmas and you could see the joy on his face as he sat back and watched his large family enjoy his gifts and each other. There was definitely a void this Christmas Eve... I'm so grateful Jude is here to distract us from those that are always missing. My little girl. My grandpa. Holidays can be rough, but they can also be so beautiful.

Jude with my amazing cousin, Rachel

 

 

My sweet Grammy and my Dad. She looked so beautiful in her lovely new coat. She kept talking about how much she enjoyed watching her family and she marveled at the fact that all of the people in the room were there because of her and Poppop. So many lives exist because the two of them came together. What an amazing thing to accomplish in life, to build such a legacy through such a large family. What an honorable thing to do with your life. I wish I could do the same!

 

 

Our family. This was the best we could get Jude to cooperate. There were way cooler things going on at the moment than smiling for yet another photo! ;)

 

 

Beautiful boy in his Santa jammies.

 

 

My parents got Jude some very wonderful gifts. Of course, he loved playing with the wrapping paper and boxes, like most children do! He seemed more interested in opening presents when they were in my room waiting for him for Christmas, than when they were purposely put before him to open. But that's okay! I'm sure he will tear into them next year!

 

 

Jude loved his new truck from my parents! He laughed and squealed the entire time we pushed him around in it. I love his joy.

 

 

Christmas dinner with Daniel's family. Jude enjoyed his fun gifts from Daniel's parents. He loves "singing" into that microphone!

 

Another Christmas has quickly come and gone. I'm a bit sad that it's already over and we're returning to normal life. I can't believe 2012 is coming to an end. It's been another crazy year. Hoping next year will finally be the uneventful year we've been waiting for! Regardless, I love my little family and I love sharing life with them. There's nothing better!

 

 

Just wait til he starts walking

People keep saying that to me lately.

People I know. Complete strangers. They just keep telling me that same thing, in that same warning tone, as if my world is about to shatter and all hell will break loose as soon as my little boy is completely mobile. As if it's about to be the worst thing that could happen to me.

And each time I hear it, I bite my tongue to what my instincts retort in my head. I feel a tinge of anger build up, as if I'm supposed to defend my little boy. Because to me, each time I hear these generalized, empty warnings, I feel as though that person is trying to talk me out of how much I love my child. As if I'm stupid enough to think I enjoy my son because I have no idea what bothersome perils await me once he can get around on his feet (or turns 2). That soon he will become too inconvenient to love and enjoy. Or something like that.

This all may seem so petty, but my number one pet peeve is taking children for granted. My children (dead and alive) are sacred to me. I do not believe in publicly slandering them in any way. I love every aspect of motherhood. I cherish it, even the challenges. It's exactly what I signed up for when Daniel and I decided to embark on the road to parenthood. I take all of it in. I embrace it all as a gift. The gift of being a mother to an amazing boy who's growing each day into the man he will become. I honestly don't find any of it to be an inconvenience. I could never sit and complain about the trials of parenting my living-breathing child. He is literally my dream come true. I nearly died for him.

And I know the alternative. I know what it's like to bury my baby. I know what it's like to clutch nothing but emptiness in aching arms. I know what it's like to pine for a screaming needy baby to keep me up at night, instead of flashback-plagued insomnia and my own miserable tears. I have a baby that never got to cry and she definitely won't ever start walking and apparently turn my world upside down. She turned my world upside down in a very different way, one that actually deserves complaint and discomfort. I'd much rather deal with her walking.

As for Jude, he is my sweet preemie. Because of that alone, his milestones are precious. They are never on time due to his prematurity, and this is something I struggle with. I try not to worry about what he is or isn't doing. So when Jude started taking steps, we were overjoyed! Disdain was the last emotion I'd ever visit. We encourage him to learn to walk, trying to get him to take steps back and forth between Daniel and me. We count the steps (so far his record is four steps before falling) and we clap and cheer when he does fall. He gets so excited as he's taking these precious steps because he knows he's accomplishing something amazing, something he's never done before. Something his prematurity could have very well taken away from him.

So am I a bit sensitive? Do I take nonchalant, typical statements too personally? Possibly. But in my life, on the road I've walked, I'm so tired of people treating parenthood and children so typically. It's not a typical occurrence. To some, it's incredibly sacred. It does not come easily. In some cases, like mine, it took multiple near death experiences (among other things) to get a breathing child into this world. I don't take Jude's accomplishments lightly. I celebrate them with everything inside me because I know we nearly buried him as well.

We'll never see Avery take her first steps and she'll never run around and play. But Jude will and I can't wait to see that sweet, silly toddler waddle. I can't wait to chase him and hear him squeal with joy. I'm so excited for what's to come. Suggesting any other response is an insult to what I've been through, no matter how ridiculous that seems.

Not everyone possesses the same ideals or views. Sometimes a thoughtless, seemingly simple comment can evoke so much emotion. What some call inconveniences, others call victories.

Wild Wonderland

Last night, Daniel and I took Jude to Lowry Park Zoo, where they had their Christmas event, Wild Wonderland. The moment we walked through the gate, we knew we'd made a good choice. I hadn't known what to expect. I hadn't been to the zoo since I was a kid. But they went above and beyond my expectations and the night was amazing! Jude loved every little bit, even for a 16 month old. It felt magical and exciting, the perfect thing to do as a little family enjoying Christmas time.

 

 Just like last year, Jude didn't show much interest in Santa, maintaining a straight face the entire time. He did seem a little confused as to why we were handing him off to some strange, hairy, red and white character. I wonder what he thinks of all these things. :)

 Jude also got to experience his very first ride last night! The three of us rode the carousel together. Jude got to ride a zebra and he loved it so much. We could just see the excitement and enjoyment on his face as he gripped the bar and kicked his legs. He looked all around at the lights as the zebra went up and down and we went around and around. I savored the simple moment, just watching his face.

A random stranger was nice enough to stop and ask if she could take our picture for us. I thought that was so kind of her. She told us Merry Christmas and that we were the cutest little family. How nice that there is still warmth in the world, when lately it seems so full of cold darkness.

Jude's absolute favorite part of the night was the fake snow flurries. They were really little sud clusters, but they really did look like snowflakes. Jude kept reaching up for them and trying to grab them. It was the highlight of my night, again watching the joy on his little face, experiencing something new and exciting for the first time.

The night went so quickly. I wished it could have lasted forever! We will definitely be making this an annual trip!

I love sharing these special moments with Jude. It's so beautiful. To be a parent and watch your child learn the world for the first time. To experience things he's never seen. It's the greatest gift there is.

Fear and healing

I never dreamed fear could have a positive outcome. It has plagued me through so many seasons of my life in the past nearly three years. My fear has kept me from so much joy. It's caused anxiety, paranoia, and even hypochondria. But this time, my fear actually set me free.

How could that be? Fear is not from God. Perfect love drives out fear. (1 John 4:18) But in this case, I believe God used my greatest flaw -- my uncontrollable, sometimes paralyzing tendency to worry and fear -- to heal a very broken piece of my being.

This terrible, unnecessary fear set deep within me four days after Jude's seizure. He had a follow up appointment with his pediatrician two days after that horrific ordeal. Everything looked great, his ear infection had even cleared up already. Jude's doctor looked through the charts from the hospital and was not pleased with the practically inconclusive blood test results from the ER. They hadn't been able to get a good sample of Jude's blood so it clumped up a lot, throwing off some of the results. He wanted us to take Jude to get another complete blood count (CBC) just to be thorough. We did just that and I didn't think much of it because Jude seemed fine and it was just a precaution.

Two days after the test, Jude's doctor called me and told me that his levels were a bit off, some varying drastically since his ER lab results just two days prior. His platelets were low and so were his white blood cells. As soon as he mentioned white blood cells, my mind immediately shot to cancer. I felt so sick with worry. The doctor explained that he believed they were both low due to viral suppression from the high fever, seizure, and ear infection. He spoke to a hematologist, who happened to specialize in oncology, just to verify and she completely agreed with him but she wanted Jude to get retested in two weeks to make sure his levels returned to normal. Cue the longest, most fearful two weeks of my life (well... Since the 31 weeks I was pregnant with Jude).

Before hanging up with Jude's doctor that afternoon, he assured me it wasn't time to worry. He expressed his belief that it couldn't be due to any cancer (because you know I asked him about it!) but he confessed his concern. When I hung up, I was close to tears and felt no peace at all. There was no way I could refrain from worrying.

All day, I had a knot in my stomach and that night, after Jude went to bed, I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't help but imagine his next results being no better or even worse. What would it mean? What if something was horribly wrong inside his little body? What if the seizure was a gift from God, so we could find out something was wrong with him before it was too late? All of these morbid fears forced their way into my thoughts. My imagination reeled with sickening visions of losing my baby. I suddenly felt like I was no longer guaranteed a life with my son. I felt like all my mothering duties may be temporary. It was a sick and awful feeling and I tried so hard to push it all away. But over the two weeks, it kept rearing its ugly head.

During that time, Jude started cutting two molars and one incisor all at once. Before we realized this, Jude's appetite changed and he wasn't eating well. Of course, my fear caused me to think something was wrong with him, that he was getting sick from whatever horrific thing was brewing inside him. Noticing the swollen gums, I felt some relief but nearly everyday, Daniel had to convince me that Jude was okay for one reason or another.

For those two long weeks, I felt like I was holding my breath. I was dreading the day we'd have to take Jude back for more blood work. I was dreading the phone call that would proceed. I imagined how my stomach would drop when my phone would ring and I'd see Jude's doctor on my caller ID. I pictured our conversation going so many ways, but naturally, against my will, what I pictured always left me feeling sick to my stomach. But then there was another side of me that couldn't wait to get it all over with. I wanted to be able to really enjoy the Christmas season and I couldn't manage to really do that with all of the fearful unknown looming over my head.

Finally, the day came and went. I prayed so much everyday leading up to it that Jude was healthy and strong. And he is. I burst into tears of relief on the phone with Jude's doctor. He knows me well enough by now and was not surprised by my reaction.

I believed in my heart that Jude was fine but my fear kept telling me I was wrong. It kept whispering ugly lies and planting that seed of worry. It really ate a hole. It festered and tormented. It was so unbearable at times. I felt so weak. I was disappointed in myself for folding so easily. Like it didn't take much for me to fall apart. That I couldn't face the situation with faith and trust, boldly and gracefully holding my head high like a dignified woman of God. But after weighing all of the things I've suffered through concerning my children, I decided to give myself a break. It's okay to be scarred by what's happened to me. I need to be patient with myself. It will take time to live confidently and to shake that paranoia.

So how did all of this fear and obsessive worry actually benefit me? During all of the stress, I kept thinking to myself how hard it was to worry so much about one person. To have so much of my heart, life, and love invested in one person. If I had to worry so much about the well-being of just one person, how could I manage that much more worry for the well-being of even more? The way I started to see it, the more children you have, the higher the chance of something awful happening to one of them. And half of my children are already dead so the odds don't look so hot. Morbid "humor" aside, I think I've endured too much for my heart to handle worrying for so many lives. I carry enough concern for Jude.

The other way the fear helped was in how much I despised the way our normal life twisted into a huge fear fest. I desperately wanted to return to our normal days. I wanted our old life. I missed it. I missed my biggest problem being how I couldn't have all the kids I wanted to have. I decided I'd gladly take that problem over there being something wrong with Jude. I willingly surrender the dreams of my future children for Jude in all his perfection. I'd much rather have "just" him than the possibility of others.

For the first time since I found out I couldn't have any more children, I am content with it. I never thought I would say that. That is the healing the fear brought. It was the lesson it taught me. Jude is enough. He has always been enough but I always longed for more as well. Now, I'm okay. Of course I would have a few more children if things were different and I still wish that were so, but It's okay that I won't have Jonah or Uriah or Ezra (a new beautiful favorite). It feels amazing to accept that. I feel more whole than I have felt in a long time. If it was even possible to love Jude more than I already did, I do.

I feel like the wounds from the babies that were taken away (past and future) have finally stopped bleeding. I feel like I can live my life now. Like I can be happy. That I don't have to be defined by my grief or my suffering. Yes, I am a baby loss mom. Yes, I have two children. Yes, my daughter is in Heaven. But I cannot live in that devastation anymore. Life is beautiful. My family is beautiful. I have so much, despite what I've lost. I know the Glory of God and the love of a husband and son. With humbled and gracious tears in my eyes, I know full well that I am blessed.

 

 

 



Jude's 2nd Halloween

I have to say that I'm not completely crazy about Halloween. My brothers and I grew up trick or treating and wearing costumes each year. I never thought about it until high school when I had a teacher who made us watch movies about how evil Halloween is. So now, in my adulthood, having children of my own, I question what I'm to do with Jude and how to approach the day each year from here on out. Especially as the world gets uglier, how much can you trust strangers who are handing out candy from their front steps? I do not judge anyone that takes part in Halloween festivities. We just haven't decided if it's for our family.

On the other hand, I am so afraid to miss opportunities and to miss memories with Jude. I do not ever want to look back and have regrets. I don't want to wish I did something differently. He is all we get. I don't have a chance to learn with him and do things differently with my third, fourth, fifth child.

That's why we dressed Jude up last year. He was a candy corn. Such a tiny little thing, about 13 weeks old, but only 4 weeks adjusted. We didn't take him out, just to my parents' house to show off his cuteness.

This year we did the same, sort of. At the last minute, we went looking for a costume, but really couldn't find anything that was his size, that we liked enough, that wasn't a massive rip off. We settled on a Superman shirt with a cape on the back from Target. He can wear it whenever because it's just a regular shirt. I love that much more than blowing money we need on something silly he would wear for a couple hours at best. I must say, he was a very cute Superman.

I'm not sure what we will do next year when he's old enough to trick or treat and he's walking and talking. I guess we'll just have to see.