24 Hours and Counting...

It was at about this time last year that I got a call from my doctor asking if I wanted to put an end to my misery and get induced the following day at 7:00 AM. It took me about three nanoseconds to respond, "YES, please!" I was actually walking through Target looking for drugs to hopefully promote natural induction and so the timing of his phone call could not have come at a more appropriate time. After I hung up my cell phone I was hit with the reality of, "Holy crap, I am going to have a baby tomorrow!" I remember the rest of that day was filled with giddy feelings of excitement, lots and lots of laundry, and precious quiet moments with my son. A part of me was sad that it would no longer be just him and me, but I will always remember that day when he fell asleep in my arms right before I put him down for his nap and I was able to just hold him and tell him that even though we were having another baby, he would always be my first love.

You all are probably getting sick and tired of reading about my thoughts and emotions regarding Riley's first birthday. I kind of am, too, frankly. For whatever reason, though, I am having a hard time accepting that she will be one year old tomorrow, and I'm pretty positive I will not make it through the day without crying. When did I turn into that woman? And by that woman, I mean the woman that gets all sentimental and emotional over each milestone in her children's lives. I promise you that I used to be the girl that when asked if I wanted to keep any "souvenirs" from the NICU to remember our days spent there with Cale, I immediately scoffed and thought any of that would just produce unnecessary clutter in my house -- no thank you! I take lots of pictures but don't see a need for baby books or scrapbooks of any kind. I threw away both Riley's and Cale's first footprints from the hospital. See, I am not that woman!

I have one theory as to why Riley's first birthday is so different from Cale's but who knows if it would stand up in court. My theory is this: Cale's first year was traumatizing, simple as that. Other than the joy we felt when we were able to bring him home from the hospital, I really can't remember any significant stretches of time during those twelve months when we could just sit back and enjoy our first born. We were always at the doctor, always trying to force food in him, always worried, always stressing, always grieving, etc., etc., etc.. With Riley, though, aside from the first few weeks when we were adjusting to our life with two kids, it has been pure joy through and through. She's made parenting easy and loving her even easier. She's done exactly what she was supposed to exactly when she was supposed to do it without any intervention from Alex, me, or any therapists. She's been normal and consequently it has allowed us to have a normal experience of raising her. Please do not take this the wrong way, however. Even though her first year was dramatically different from Cale's, I would not change the course our life has taken for the world! Cale is the only one that could have taught us to appreciate this last year like we have. I look up to that little guy and he's only two years old.

So tomorrow is the big day. Alex's mom from Seattle is flying in tonight and will be with us until Sunday. I think we will just have a low-key day tomorrow, maybe taking a trip to the park, but on Saturday we will have Riley's big party with all of her friends. I'll really be a loser if I cry then. What kind of parent cries at their baby's first birthday party?

Dear Riley,

You are one year old tomorrow. You won't truly be able to appreciate the speed of a year until one day when you have kids, but just take my word for it -- a year goes by so quickly! It would be impossible to express to you how much I love you and I feel powerless to even try. Just know that I love you so incredibly much and there will never be anything that changes that. My love is forever. You have added so much joy to both your father's and my life. You constantly have us laughing, and even amidst your meltdowns and tantrums, I hold you close and never want to let go. Your personality has developed into something so vibrant and colorful -- you already have all the qualities to succeed in anything you choose to do in this life. You are persistent, brave, fearless, sometimes stubborn, and very affectionate. You have acquired several nicknames during the past twelve months, most of which have been given to you by your father. Deano, The Dean, Little Miss, and probably the most fitting, Drama Queen. I'll be interested to see which nicknames stick and which ones will be added years from now. One thing you probably don't know about yourself is that you are a very important little sister. You have taught your big brother so much this last year and I can only assume he will continue learning from you year by year. You are not always the nicest to him but I can tell that he loves you and watches you with incredible awe. You don't know it yet, but you are already rich in spirit from having a brother like him. He's the best and so are you. I have many prayers for your life such as marriage, education, friendships, etc., but my main prayer for you is this: I pray that you will learn to love Jesus and that you will understand the sacrificial love He has for you. I pray that you'll walk with Him daily and you will seek Him and only Him for love and acceptance. Your father and I chose a verse for your life and it is this: Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." I love you, Riley, and from the moment you came into this world I have loved you. I will never stop. Thank you for being such a pure and complete blessing. Happy Birthday.

WOW

I cannot believe I just scripted an entire post about breast feeding. Wow.

To Wean or Not to Wean?

Riley's 1st birthday is less than ten days away and I'm just now starting to seriously consider weaning her from my breast. (excuse my vulgar language!) This whole concept of breast feeding was nothing like I had imagined.

When Cale was born at 31 weeks gestation, it was encouraged by the NICU nurses and doctors to wait until at least 35 weeks to introduce breast feeding. Being that Cale was in an incubator and hooked up to multiple wires and tubes, I desperately longed during those four weeks to experience something so intimate with my baby boy. Long story short, I worked harder at trying to get him to breast feed than I have worked at anything in my whole life! During the eight weeks he remained in the hospital and then into the first two months he was at home, I battled and fought with all my might to succeed at what I thought should have been so natural and easy. It was our pediatrician that finally had to sit me down and tell me that breast feeding was just not going to happen for us. I cried but then finally realized that whatever was best for my baby was what I ultimately wanted to do. Bottles and formula quickly invaded our life and we got through it just fine.

Needless to say, when Riley was born I was hopeful she would be a pro at breast feeding. I stressed and cried during the first few weeks when feedings appeared to be more work than enjoyment, not to mention painful, but eventually Riley and I got into a good groove and the rest is history. She is days away from her first birthday and even though I panicked at three months, six months, and nine months that I would never have enough milk to make it another day, here we are in a predicament that I never thought I would find myself in.

Before I had kids, I have to admit, I felt a little awkward when I saw a mother feeding her baby underneath a blanket, or heaven forbid, with everything hanging out there for the world to see. I never thought a mother should be stripped of her rights to feed her baby, but I shamefully admit I thought they should at least have the decency to go into a bathroom. (please don't hate me) However, now that the tables have been turned and I am now the mother feeding her baby, I believe mothers should have the right to feed their children wherever, whenever, and without the need to cover up. You can agree or disagree but those are my thoughts.

Breast feeding, for me, is so much more than giving my baby a meal. It's a time to bond, a time to comfort, and a time to love up my baby girl. I never thought it would be so emotional for me and I never thought I would "miss" breast feeding, especially during those first few weeks when the pain was almost more than I could bear.

So, I'm at a crossroad. On one hand, I selfishly want to continue feeding her for as long as I can, but on the other hand, I definitely do not want to be that mother that allows her child to eat after they walk up and lift up her shirt. That to me will be the breaking point. I have absolutely nothing against people that breast feed their kids past their first year, but I have nightmares that Riley will be a teenager and can remember the days when she ate from Mommy's boob. No thank you.

I still have eight days.

Little Miss Riley

Why is it that when I was younger a year was a time span my mind couldn't even comprehend, but now that I am older a year is merely a blink of my eye? I remember basing a year on the length of time between one Christmas and another, and if you love Christmas as much as I do, you can remember how incredibly long it took for it to come again. Years were so much longer back then.

My little Miss Riley is turning one year old in less than ten days! I seriously have no idea how this is even possible. It really does seem like yesterday when we first brought her home. It won't be long before we're sending her off to college...

Riley is a true joy. She has the best personality out of anyone I have ever known. She makes me laugh and she is sure to put a smile on just about anyone's face. All in all she has been a happy baby and if Alex and I hadn't previously decided on only have two children, she sure would have made it easy to want a third. I remember fearing I wouldn't have enough love to give her since I thought my "love cup" was already overflowing with my love for Cale, but God truly does have the ability to grow your heart bigger and give you more love than you ever imagined possible. There are days when I go to bed missing my kids and wishing for morning to come sooner so that I can see them again. (please note: there are definitely days when bedtime can't come fast enough and morning comes way too soon!)

Riley's first year has been a roller-coaster ride. I remember going back and forth between fear and doubt on whether or not she was "normal". I still, in fact, struggle with this but it was definitely more of a battle during her first six months of life. I was constantly obsessing over if and when she was reaching her milestones, pestering Cale's therapists with constant streams of questions, and having heart-to-heart discussions with myself on why it doesn't do any good to worry. I have these heart-to-hearts with myself on a fairly regular basis. :) I've recently been struggling with Riley's newfound love with walking. It is so fun to see her toddle around and watch the look of pride on her face, but on the other hand, out of the corner of my eye I am watching Cale's reaction. My heart breaks for him knowing that he must be wondering why walking comes so easy to her when it is such a struggle for him. I pray that he doesn't get frustrated by this and that it only motivates him to reach his independence more quickly. Along this note, Riley has been so good for Cale! I was told before she was born that normal developing children are often great teachers to their siblings but I never really fully grasped that concept until I experienced it first-hand. Riley, I believe, has taught Cale many things from something as little as learning to love baths, to bigger things such as communicating and interacting with his world. I choose to believe Riley will continue to be a great teacher to her big brother until one day when Cale can hold his own. And I do believe that day will come.

All in all, Riley's first year was nothing like I had imagined. I thought I would show up at her first birthday with my hair standing on end, my face wrinkled from stress, and two different shoes on the wrong feet. Turns out I fared pretty well.

For some reason I am more emotional about her turning one than I was with Cale. I recently looked through pictures of her when she was first born and it took everything in me not to start crying. I'm not sure if this is due to the fact that she is most likely our last child and so I'm grieving over never having a newborn again, or if it's just one of the many differences I will experience with having a boy and a girl.

Girls are drama and my little Miss Riley is no exception. Drama should have been her middle name.

Mixed Emotions

Yesterday was Cale's much anticipated doctor's appointment.

We got up incredibly early so that we could compete with the rush-hour traffic and arrive on time. Both kids were roused with sleepy eyes and looks of, "why on earth are you disturbing me from my peaceful sleep at this hour?" I, too, probably looked the same way since I tossed and turned most of the night, wondering anxiously about our meeting with the doctor. I wasn't sure what to expect and for those of you reading that have kids, you understand that your children are the most important things in your world and the possibility of receiving bad news about one of them is simply unbearable.

We arrived at Seattle Children's Hospital on time and even a bit early. The sun was shining and my attitude was surprisingly positive and eerily calm. I had no worries. We walked through the doors, checked in, and began the ongoing event of waiting. I truly believe medical offices just shuffle you around from place to place to make you feel like something is actually happening, but really they're just moving you to a different place to wait. Cale's appointment was broken up into two different parts; the first segment was a meeting with an occupational/physical therapist that basically went through a series of tests to determine where Cale was developmentally. The second segment was the actual meeting with the doctor. Cale did amazing with the OT/PT and even surprised them with how much he was able to do. Alex and I, of course, puffed out our chests with what I'm sure was a "Yep, that's our son" kind of look. We were so proud. After that was finished we were transferred to a different place where we then waited for the doctor to see us. Waiting. Waiting. And more waiting. It was during this portion of the morning that I started to become anxious. What if she came in, took one look at our son, and told us that she'd seen hundreds of kids just like him and that the future for him was bleak? What if she was able to put a name to whatever condition Cale has, because then I would be forced to spend countless of hours on the internet researching credible or non-credible information, all the while giving myself an ulcer. What then? Thankfully Riley was crying and squirming all over the place that I was forced to focus my mind on her rather than run through all of the worst-case scenarios I had been dreaming up during the weeks prior to this day.

Our name was finally called.

The doctor's appearance surprised me. She was young, very attractive, and made eye contact with us which had not been the case with the two previous neurologists we have seen. She was seemingly normal and even had a 31-week preemie herself. She was my kind of gal and I instantly liked her. She asked us hundreds of questions about Cale's history, looked him over and played with him a bit, and then gave us her opinion. Gulp. She suggested that we submit to some sort of genetic test with an incredibly long name that I definitely cannot remember. We have had genetic testing done before but apparently there is a new one that can pick up even the slightest abnormalities in the genetic code. This test is anywhere from $1300 to $3000, depending on what your insurance is willing to pay. Another gulp. She said the chances of this test finding anything is probably less than 1% and so Alex and I are currently debating on whether or not we want to do it. She also said she didn't think he had a syndrome because there weren't any physical features that stood out on Cale. We kind of already knew that but it was good to get her confirmation. The only thing any doctor has been able to "diagnose" him with is cerebral palsy and so I asked her if she thought that's what he had. She said no. Her nurse then came in, handed us some paperwork, and gave us the option of coming back in a year even though the doctor didn't think it was necessary to see us again. All of that worry and anticipation for twenty minutes. Was it worth it? I'm not sure.

In summary, she wasn't able to tell us what Cale has. She doesn't think it's cerebral palsy or any sort of syndrome but she does recommend we seek out that genetic test. She believes Cale will continue to make gains and progress forward, which really was our best-case scenario and all that we could hope for. She didn't tell us his future was bleak or give us the news that he had a condition that would limit his quality of life. Overall she was very positive and I suppose we should feel very good about that. For some reason I'm left feeling like perhaps this was a waste of our time because we are leaving knowing nothing different from what we already knew. On the other hand, we made the appointment to have a different set of eyes look at our son and get an "nth" opinion, which we got. Mission accomplished. Cale truly is unique and there's no question in my mind that God made him exactly the way he should be. I love my little boy more than words could ever describe and there's nothing any doctor could ever say to change that. We joke that there's a different time zone called "Cale's Time" and I'm truly beginning to believe that it actually exists. Everything on his time..

I'm glad it's over and perhaps one of these days I will truly be at peace with not knowing the why or the reason for why Cale is the way he is.

Seattle

We are in Seattle now and have been for the past three days. (I might have mentioned this in an earlier post but my mommy brain makes me forget things every now and then.) We are scheduled to meet with a "pediatric developmental specialist" that has been referred to us by several other parents who have children with special needs. The medical community in Missoula, albeit supportive and sympathetic, has not provided us with any answers concerning Cale's diagnosis. This is both a blessing and quite frustrating. It is a blessing because we don't have a diagnosis that gives us a future full of hardship and grief, because for now we still have hope that one day Cale could very well turn out to be "normal". On the other hand, it is frustrating because we have no way of predicting where he will be in ten, twenty, or even five years. I suppose this point is somewhat void considering no one is able to predict anything about the future, but it would provide a lot of comfort to both Alex and me if we even had a vague idea. To be honest, I haven't given this doctor appointment a lot of thought and now that we are less than 24 hours away I am getting a bit nervous. I'm nervous because this doctor might give us a diagnosis. What then? Maybe it's better not to know. Or what if she tells us that what we've been doing so far has been all wrong? I'm trying really hard not to let my mind wander but the paths of worry are pretty well traveled in my brain.

On another front, Alex's mom lives here and so that's who we've been staying with. We've had TONS of fun since we got here but I'll write more about that later. Please send a prayer our way as we seek out more answers tomorrow!

THANK YOU!

Changes

I've always viewed change as a good thing. I think change creates opportunities that we might not have discovered otherwise. Change opens doors. Change is one of the reasons why Alex and I are such a great fit; he squirms at the thought and I crave it. Together we keep one another in balance.

However, Riley is opening my eyes to change that I am less inclined to greet with open arms. She has developed an attitude that surpasses the nickname "drama queen". She's happy go-lucky one minute and then screaming at the top of her lungs the next. Cale's water cup is apparently far better than hers, therefore she feels the need to throw hers clear across the room to make it apparent to me that it is no good. I may also have the first child to attend kindergarten naked because I would rather send her off with no clothes on than wrestle her to the floor trying to get her dressed. Diapering is much of the same so I can only pray that she is potty-trained by age one. Oh, and hats - just forget about those! I also wasn't aware that the sign for not wanting to eat was flailing one's arms at mach speed in hopes to knock the spoon and all of the food on it towards the four surrounding walls. Perhaps then I might understand that she's full. I've also learned the universal sign for getting something you want is screaming until your face turns blue. Literally. Maybe when she passes out from lack of oxygen she'll think of something less dramatic, such as pointing. Riley has also adopted a new bodily gesture for letting me know she's not happy. She has mastered the stomping of her foot which partly cracks me up because it reminds me of my sister and her daughter, and the other half makes me want to say, "seriously, already?".

My sweet, innocent little girl is rapidly changing into someone I don't always like. I blame Eve for not listening to God and Adam for showing poor leadership. I still love her with all of my being and during her sweet moments my heart still melts, but the tantrum-throwing toddler stage is quickly approaching and this time it's me squirming at the thought of the change that has yet to come.

In other, better, news, Cale is experiencing some change himself. He has shown a complete desire to be up and mobile like everyone else. Crawling is no longer sufficient and I think he finally has enough motivation to get walking very soon. He can now stand up on his own, maintain his balance, and take a step! This is monumental!!! He's been taking two to three steps when we help him get going but this time he's figured out how to do it from his very own steam. God continues to amaze me by showing me that He has no limits for my little guy. I truly believe there are no boundaries and each day I'm reminded of how thankful I need to be in how far God has brought Cale. The work He has done with my son is indeed a miracle.

Changes, both good and bad, are a part of life. I suppose I should just be thankful that today, and only today, everyone I love is healthy and on this earth. Who knows what tomorrow could bring.