Brothers

I could blog a thousand times a day, everyday, on the subject of brothers. I don't think I can come up with anything cuter than two little boys loving up on each other. Well, maybe if you toss a few more boys in there to love up on their brothers... Alas, Dan is quite adamant that he is done as far as having more kids goes.

So anyway, I'll enjoy watching the two I have. Just this morning Simon was cranking away because his teeth (or maybe it's his ears, or maybe I'm just paranoid again) are bothering him and there goes Jesse, running to make sure Simon is going to be ok, "It's ok, Soimon!" in his sweet, little voice.

Melt my heart.

It's just lovely to see how much they enjoy each other. Even when Jesse says that Simon is "on him" or being a pain, he says it with a twinkle in his eye. And when Simon is pinching Jesse, he's usually smiling away when he is doing it. Wait, maybe that's not the same thing. Hmmm...

Just a reminder...

We all let our kids do things the experts say not to. Popcorn before age 4? Whole grapes when they're sitting still at the table? Toys labeled "Ages 3 and up" for your 2 year old? I know, especially since Jesse is so mature in so many ways, I have done all of these things and more.

The pictures on the grocery cart (and common sense) say not to let your kid ride in the basket part of the cart, but Jesse is very well behaved and sits still on his bottom when I ask him to. Simon is too small for most of the carts at Target with the seats in the bottom so we always let Jesse ride in the basket part of the cart when we shop if he doesn't feel like walking.

This past weekend, Dan worked and I had a conference to attend so Jesse stayed with my parents Friday and I took Simon with me to the conference (it was the La Leche League conference before anyone wonders what kind of person I am for taking a baby to a conference).

Anyway, I came out of the last session to 7 voicemails on my cell phone. My mom had Jesse at Home Depot and he told her I let him ride in the basket of the cart and she let him. He sat still on his bottom the entire time like she asked, but when she got to the car he stood up in anticipation of getting out and he lost his balance and went head first out of the cart onto the parking lot. It was about a 4 foot fall directly on his head. I was almost an hour away when I got the message. That was a horrifying drive.

We spent 6 hours in two different ERs on Saturday (my mom originally took him to UPMC Braddock because he fell asleep in her car on the way to the ER and she was worried so she went to the nearest ER and then later we transferred him to Children's) and went through the hell that it is to strap a 3 year old to a table for a 2 image CT scan.

That alone was a heartbreaking experience. Absolutely awful. I have never been unable to calm him. Not once in his life. My presence and reassurance has always been all he's needed. I felt so helpless. I actually stood back for a while and cried while the CT Tech tried calming him. Eventually, I had to lay on him and go into the machine with him after he screamed for 45 minutes straight and would not calm down enough to get the test. He has petechial hemmorrhaging all over his face, neck and chest from screaming for so long.

He must have asked to nurse two dozen times while we were in the ER. I just held him close and rocked him, my heart breaking because I couldn't let him have the comfort he desperately needed. If he would have had a bleed he would have needed immediate surgery so he was not allowed to eat or drink anything until he was cleared. Nursing Simon in front of him made me feel like I was betraying him.

Fortunately, he did not have a slow brain bleed like the ped originally suspected and he is going to be just fine. My mother feels absolutely awful even though I told her a thousand times it could have happened to anyone. I've never had a problem with Jesse riding in the basket and if she had called to ask me I would have told her it was ok to do so.

I will not let him do it again after this though. Please, even if your child is an absolute angel in the basket, know that this is something that can happen. I don't ever want to be scared again like I was on Saturday.

God had His hand on Jesse. He could have had a brain bleed, he could have broken his neck, he could have broken his shoulder or arm or landed on something that could have impaled him. He didn't come out completely unscathed, but a nasty goose egg on his head and some awful memories... I'll take it.

A Very Pleasant Surprise!

This afternoon I received an email from a friend who is thinking of entering the wedding photography business. She had some questions about what I looked for in a photographer, what I paid, etc. As silly as it may be, I actually have my wedding planner in my office at work. It's been shoved on a bottom shelf collecting dust for years when I brought my planner to work to have my information accessible for a special I was involved in and never took it home.

Anyway, I flipped through to find the photographer information and then kept looking through the other folders when suddenly I spotted a simple piece of white paper with black type on it. I gasped and then squealed! I knew immediately what it was!

We had a very large wedding in 2002 and received many wonderful gifts from our guests. Beautiful china, personalized Christmas ornaments, crystal and many things to fill our small apartment as we changed it from "my place" to "our home." Mixed in with all the gifts and cards containing monetary gifts was a plain white business envelope with a simple, typed letter from a young firefighter we had become friends with in the few short years since he had joined our fire company. I remember lounging on the bed at the Holiday Inn, surrounded by flowery wedding cards, opening that envelope and wondering what was inside.

What was inside was a gift of money accompanied by the most amazing letter! Insightful and tender - from such an unexpected source. We read it with tears in our eyes... and then we read it again. I loved that letter immediately and knew it would mean something to me forever.

I tucked it away for safe keeping and, as I am prone to do, completely forgot where I put it. For years, when that letter has crossed my mind, I have looked in the places where I keep small treasures, always hoping to find it. I never have. Until today.

I was almost afraid to read it again. I worried that the letter that once meant so much to me when I was embarking upon my new life with my new husband would now seem laughable or irrelevant almost 7 years later...

It didn't. It doesn't. This letter is still as wonderful today as it was on November 23, 2002, when I first read it. I don't expect it to touch all who read it the same way, nor do I expect others to be impressed by it the way I am, but I will share it anyway before I take it home to find a frame for it so I can hang it on my wall. I want to read it over and over again and remember the truths contained within when I need to remember them the most.

Who would expect something like this from a young 20-something computer nerd who is into Japanese animation and the Smashing Pumpkins? Never in a million years...

This isn't a very good gift. It really isn't meant to be a good gift, because what's included isn't a gift. It's a start. A couple needs more than gifts to start a life together and love is but a part of life. So hear the ramblings of a young fool for just a bit, because I know you are going to hear the ramblings of much older and wiser fools over the days, weeks, months and years to come.

Be kind to each other. Laugh when it's funny, but remember there is always something to bring you down. Cry when it's sad, but remember there is something better to brighten the day. Scream when you are mad, but that will pass and be replaced with other feelings. Fight if you must, but you will eventually run out of energy and all that's left is acceptance. Life and love have their ups and downs. Remember you chose each other and life, love and time will continue no matter what you feel or do. Or so it should.

Love is not always happy. It can be sad, angry, frustrating, desolate, uncaring, even hating. Love is something that should never be taken lightly. I think you chose love for the right reasons. Remember that love isn't what anybody ever expects it to be. Depressing as that sounds, there are the food things about love. Love can be happy, curious, overwhelming, sappy, complete, and even just as good if not better than any poet, author, musician or artist could ever convey. Love should be unconditional. Love accepts the good with the bad and learns from both. Love exists whether you are near or far. Love shines through when you need it the most. Love pokes at you when you think you don't need it.

One last note on love. Be VERY honest with each other, even if you cannot be honest with yourselves. Work with each other, even when you can't see why the other is doing what they do. Take the good and learn from the bad. And there will be good, and there will be bad, but such is life and love.

So, Why the non-gift you ask? Because a couple has to start somewhere, with something. I would like to think in my very small way, I helped start that something, somewhere. It isn't much, but every little bit helps. And I know you will survive and grow and love no matter what gets thrown at you.

Take this note for what it is. I AM young. I DON'T know love well. I AM still a little weird. But it doesn't matter, life does. So take the note for what it's worth. The note is my gift to you. The other goes to the start of a very wonderful life you will build together.

Care Always,

T. F. B.


What a different person I am from the person who first read that note, tanned and young, still dressed in a fluffy ivory gown with tired feet from dancing all night. With my new husband by my side, my world was wide open. The good in this letter is about all I paid attention to, most likely. For the bad would never befall us.

Yet here we are, almost 7 years later, and - believe me - we've seen many of the down sides mentioned in this letter. We've screamed, fought, at times even thought of giving up. We are different people now. Yet this letter - its good and its bad - still ring true. This letter still touches me the way it touched that bride. I am more aware now, maybe even more cynical and in some ways even bitter, but I know the truths this letter holds. We are not always as happy as that couple hoped to always be. But we are still here and we still "survive and grow and love no matter what" just like our young friend hoped we would.

Take a compliment

Mark Twain said, "I can live for two months on a good compliment."

What's the best compliment you've received lately? Ever?

In November I took Jesse for a haircut. Simon tagged along. Jesse sat so nicely draped in his racecar robe while the girl trimmed his hair. Meanwhile I sat in a chair with an overhead hair dryer chatting with the stylists while I snuggled, kissed and munched on Simon. About 10 minutes in, the owner of the shop stopped working on the head of hair in front of her and said to me with a huge smile, "It's obvious you really enjoy your children."

Wow. What a compliment.

When Jesse is on my last nerve and Simon's whining seems unending, I remember that compliment and try to enjoy my children as much as I do on a good day when everyone's happy and full of smiles.

What have you been complimented on? Take that compliment to heart. Next time you're frustrated or pissed off, next time you screw something up or feel like nothing can go your way, when that moody friend stops talking to you for no apparent reason, your husband acts like a total dolt, your mother gets on your nerves, your boss is a pain... Think of your best compliment. Take heart! You are good at something, you are a good person, you do something well.

Take a compliment.

"But I AM three!"

So says Jesse. He's been insisting he's three years old for months now.

Well, today it is official. My boy is three. My baby, my first born, my "best boy"... three years old. How did this happen?

Maybe because the details surrounding his birth are always present in the front of my mind even though I choose still not to face them all, it seems like it wasn't so long ago. March 18, 2006 was the most frightening, traumatizing, and heart wrenching day of my life. It was also the most glorious day. It was the day I became a mother. The day I stepped into the role I believe I was born to fill. The day my gorgeous red haired, blue eyed boy was pulled from my body. He did not breathe, he did not cry, his heart did not beat. God had his hand on Jesse Daniel and He breathed life into him and protected him and here we are three years later. Happy, healthy, full of energy, love and life.

Jesse is an amazing child. He takes my face in both his hands, pulls me toward him and says, "I love you, Mama," and gives me a squinty eyed smile and my heart melts every time. He's so grown up in many ways, yet still like the baby I recall in others. He wants to be independent and do it all himself, he speaks like an adult at times, he comes up with thoughts and ideas that blow my mind. He loves to snuggle in close, asks "Hold me like a baby" when he nurses, cries when he doesn't get his way. He challenges me and keeps me on my toes. I have learned to love in a way that was new to me, I've been more frustrated than I knew was possible, I have found patience within I never knew I had. He taught me how to mother, he led the way as I learned, as he grows I grow along with him.

I am blessed. I thank God for the miracle that is Jesse every day of my life. I love you, Buddy. Happy birthday!

First time meeting Jesse in the NICU - 14 hours old

Jesse's first dentist appointment - February 2009

Three years ago

I've been so sentimental lately in this month of birthdays. Simon's was 5 days ago and Jesse's is in another 9. Today I came across an email I sent out to loved ones on March 9, 2006 while I was waiting for Jesse to arrive. I remember those days, going stir crazy on bed rest, enjoying most of being pregnant (the crushing pelvic pain and PUPPPS I could have done without), but getting antsy to go into labor to experience the birth I had dreamed about my whole life and to meet the little man who kicked me while I tried to sleep at night.

Motherhood is more beautiful on this side, but I did thoroughly enjoy having that little life all to myself, growing inside my body like my own little secret relationship, the only one to know what he was doing at any time, imagining what kind of child he would be, what he would look like, etc. Pregnancy was a wonderful time in my life. I thank God I was able to enjoy it not only once but twice.


It is March 9 and our official due date was March 4, so I figured a little update was in order since some of you might be wondering if you missed the news.

You didn't miss anything. Little Jesse is being stubborn and doesn't want to come out. I am ok with that because I rather enjoy being pregnant and know I will miss it when it's over soon. I feel really good and relaxed and, though I want to meet my son so badly, I am ok staying pregnant a little while longer.

I have had pregnancy induced blood pressure issues for a while now and have been home on bedrest for a few weeks. Because of that and some test results on the baby's heartrate when I have contractions, there was talk of inducing me last week and then again this week. Luckily, they ran more tests which we both aced and they are allowing us more time to go on our own like I hope to go.

So we spend 5-7 hours at Magee having tests done every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We don't mind even though getting someone to drive us there and back is a pain sometimes. As long as we keep doing well on the tests, they will allow nature to take its course. If anything comes back with a less than favorable score, we will be induced.

So please pray for us to go into labor on our own soon, while we are both healthy and before my midwives start talking about induction just based on the calendar (they usually don't let you go past your due date by more than two weeks).

If you are on this list, you are on the list that I gave to my best friend, Amanda. She will send out an e-mail letting you know that little Jesse is here once he makes his appearance!

Until then, take care! :)

Here are some other bits I came across:

It's been a roller coaster, but I am glad they are allowing us some time to go on our own. The thought of a 3 day inducement (that's how long they said it might take since I was making no progress on my own at all) with all that medical intervention really didn't appeal to me even though I am willing to do whatever it takes if little Jesse is in any danger at all. I stayed up the night before my induction and prayed and prayed and the last minute tests were perfect! Now I am just praying to go into labor and for the strength to get through it naturally like Dan and I have planned for so long.

I talked so casually about the "3 day induction" my midwives speculated about. My Bishop's Score was low, my body was not ready to be induced, my baby not ready to come out on his own. Little did I realize at that point that it would indeed be a 3 day induction that would not even end in a vaginal delivery. I was still so hopeful and confident.

No clue how much he weighs. I don't think he'll be too huge though - he has room to stretch his little legs out at night when I am in bed. I can't wait to meet him!

Hopefully, I won't have to keep up the appointments too much longer. I keep taking walks hoping to get something going before time runs out.

Soon!

I laugh when I remember being convinced he was going to be about 7.5 pounds. I was 7lb 5oz and Dan was 7lb 9oz and I had it set in my head that he would be 7lb 7oz, right in the middle. Hilarious the way my pregnant, deluded brain worked then.

Yeah, nothing has worked yet. I have been threatened with induction three times now and every time it's imminent, the next test comes out fine and they send me home. Today, his amniotic fluid is really low, but his non-stress test was excellent, so I am home again. I am scheduled for induction on Friday if I don't go on my own before then though.

I had been scheduled for an induction that Friday, March 17. At my appointment on Wednesday, March 15, my amniotic fluid was dangerously low and we returned that evening to start the induction. It was another 3 days before my beautiful boy was pulled from my body, blue and limp. Sometimes it seems like a story that happened to someone else. I'm blessed that it was me and that he's a gorgeous almost-3-year-old today.

Happy (almost) birthday, Baby!

Wow. Where to start?

Today is the anniversary of the day that was supposed to be Simon's birthday. Our favorite midwife, Shannon, wasn't working that Monday so we moved the date of my cesarean to Tuesday, March 4, 2008, so Shannon would be there to be with us in the operating room with Dr. Kaminski to welcome our baby boy into the world. It seemed fitting also that Simon would be born on his brother's original estimated due date. We had looked forward to March 4, 2006, as the day around which we would become first time parents, never expecting for two full weeks to pass after that date before Jesse came to be with us.

It's hard to believe an entire year has passed since Simon's birth. It has been the fastest year of my life. Time started flying once we became parents, but the two years it was just Dan and me and Jesse definitely passed much slower than the time does when you've got two little ones to chase after. What a year it's been though! Simon is so different from Jesse. He's changed my few expectations over and over, teaching me - yet again - that I am no longer in charge and life is better when I follow the lead of my children.

I still carry many scars from Jesse's birth. It's not something that I will ever "get over" and move on from. I changed too much over the course of those three days of labor and I have yet to completely face my feelings regarding his entrance into the world. But I started my path to healing on the day Simon came to be.

Leading up to Simon's birth was agonizing. I had many fears. Would he cry? Would his lungs work? What if some freak accident happened and we came close to losing another baby? Would I be able to handle more? What if he ended up in the NICU like Jesse did? How would we make that work, could I go back to the NICU again without all those memories of Jesse's start rushing back in?

And then he was born. And he cried. And it was as though the sun was rising for the first time. Everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok. I wasn't going to be defined by Jesse's birth anymore. It wasn't going to have the same hold on me that it did before. It's still there, still a part of who I am, nothing will change it. But Simon's birth lifted a fog of sorts that I had been in for almost two years. It was a new beginning.

And here we are one day away from the anniversary of that date. Simon joined our family one year ago. How can that be? It seems he was only born a few short months ago and it seems we've known him forever at the same time.

He's my chunky, lovable, adorable boy. I love his dark eyes and light, wispy hair. His whispering "dat dat dat" and light squeals welcome me every morning, reminding me that I am beyond blessed with yet another gorgeous boy to love and hold. Even overnight when I am exhausted from nursing every few hours, I thank God for the warm little body snuggled up against mine, his grunty little sounds as he feverishly sucks for more milk, his sweet smelling head and little chubby fingers holding tight to mine. I have been blessed with the most precious gift again.

In one year, Simon has gone from being a skinny little spider monkey with long chicken legs to a solid big guy who steals hearts wherever he goes. In his early days, when I was convinced he'd never latch to nurse and I was pumping and finger feeding him with a syringe, barely sleeping, frustrated, exhausted, discouraged... I never looked forward far enough to see where we'd be today. I plugged through one minute, one hour, one day at a time never realizing a year later he'd be a happy, healthy, beautiful boy, fed for 9 months exclusively by my milk, passionate to see me at the end of a work day to reconnect, content to lie snuggled against me as he sleeps.

Simon, you are my precious boy. I love you more than I can ever express in words. You've turned my life upside down again in a good way. You're a joy to be with. A pleasure to mother. My life is complete with you in it. You are my second born, but you are never second in my heart. I love you, Bubba. Happy birthday.

My guardian angel in a big yellow school bus

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Sir!

On my way across Liberty Avenue this morning in Bloomfield to get, what else?, a pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks, I crossed between a big yellow school bus and the 54 Chicken. I made eye contact with the school bus driver to make sure he saw me so he didn't creep up on the PAT bus too closely. It was gridlock and no one was going anyplace, just me happily on my way for a treat!

Beep, beep... beepbeepbeepbeep! The school bus driver started honking while I was crossing right in front of him. What the heck? I don't know this guy, surely he's not a stickler for reprimanding jaywalkers, he can't be beeping at the PAT bus driver in front of him. I paused to look up at him as I slowed my pace.

BIG WHITE FLASH! Right in front of my face. Not 4 inches in front of me. Some jackass in a white van flew down the side of the road between the school bus and the curb. Apparently, where this guy had to be (later discovered to be into the Sunoco for a pack of smokes) was extremely important.

You know how you hear a tragic story about an 83 year old female pedestrian hit by a vehicle in the Strip and think hard about the intersection where it happened and wonder how a tragedy like that unfolded? Yeah, this is exactly how it happens.

Had that bus driver not seen that van coming in his side mirror or had he not made the connection between me and the connection that was about to happen between me and that van's grill, I would have been toast. Toast, I say.

Once I caught my breath and hurried onto the curb, I was shaken. All I could do before ducking into Starbucks was turn around, point at the school bus driver and mouth "Thank you" while patting my chest where my (still beating) heart lie.

So to the vigilant black man in a red t-shirt who was driving a big yellow school bus at Liberty and South Mathilda in Bloomfield around 8 this morning... thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. You're an angel.