So here I sit. Silence...well sort of. Nice sounds of the rain hitting the chimney do hickey. The soft snore of Scout sleeping next to me (and keeping my feet nice and warm I might add). A random car from Lower Roswell Road driving by now and again (why do we hear some and not others?). That's it. That is about as silent as this house ever gets and I'm welcoming it, embracing it and snuggling in its warm comfort. It has been quite a crazy couple of days and I seriously needed this moment.
Sometimes I feel like an iguana. For those of you that don't know, iguana's need something warm (preferably the sun) to digest their food. After they eat a tasty fly or creepy crawly, they have to scoot on over to a rock sitting in the sun and just hang for a little...just long enough to get the juices flowing in the tummy to digest their most recent meal. My iguana-like self needs some quiet time or down time of some sort to digest certain events, obstacles or dramas in my life. I don't necessarily need the warmth....but digesting MY most recent whatever is always easier with a lit candle or burritoed in my electric blanket or by my fireplace or in the actual sun in the back yard.
My brain is surrounded by babies. The ones I have of my own, the ones on their way and the ones just born are taking up most of my mind these days. And for the past two days, well those thoughts have been devoted to Josh.
I've tried describing more than once what it feels like to have a child...what the level of love you feel...and I always wind up short. I've realized that it's because the description was never meant to be read, or described or taught - by a book or by mouth. It's one of the few things on earth that was specifically created to FEEL. Ernest Hemingway did a pretty great job on describing items in his stories...but I don't think that even he could truly describe what it is like; not truly enough to give credit to the actual feeling of it. God specifically did things a certain way for us to feel... and having a child, knowing that love and all of the levels of emotions that come with it...well that may have been top on his list.
I have a special bond with each of my babies, as any mother does. Each of them are amazing in their own way and every day they make me laugh, amaze me and make me want to scream sometimes too. Josh is one of the happiest little guys I've ever known. He had a rough start and decided to grab life by the reigns and ride it to the fullest. He's brilliant, hysterical, beautiful and has an ancient ancient soul. I'm not even sure where his inner depths reach - but they far surpass mine. His happy go lucky attitude makes for a very easy child. He is rarely fussy, can entertain himself along with everyone else in a room and when hurt, really just brushes it off and moves forward with whatever it is he feels like doing. My bond with him is unique. I went through a special level of hell to get him here, to have him enter this world safely and healthy. I was only 14 weeks pregnant when I herniated my two discs with him. I went through 23 weeks of hospitilizations for discs rupturing, walking phnemonia, 3 day stay for an asthma attack and indescribible back pain. We made a deal with each other - he would be okay if I stayed put in the hospital bed and did whatever the doctors told me to do. The delivery sucked. The hospital actually had to have a board meeting to decide how my delivery was going to go. The decision was split 3 to 3. They didn't know if I should deliver vaginally and risk rupturing more discs or permanently messing up my back or if I should deliver by c-section leaving me with no support in my back and then cut muscles/no support in my front. They actually left the decision up to me. I was told the c-section was going to be better for Josh so that's the route I went. They had to put my epidural in one of the discs that was ruptured. To date, that is the worst pain I've experienced. There were also complications after his delivery - he was addicted to pain medicine that they made me take in the hospital for 4 weeks. He was on methedone for 6 weeks after he was born. The beginning was rough. I never ever ever wanted to see him hurt again....ever.
Josh got phnemonia when he was 14 months old. I spent my first mother's day with him awake in the hospital for 72 hours praying that he would be okay. He was a total trooper. The entire thing barely bothered him a bit. THAT is just how he is....he is the poster kid picture for "life is good".
He got tubes put in his ears when he was 17 months old. He was up and running around within hours and never complained a bit. Not one single bit.
He's had his ear drums ruptured twice from severe ear infections....didn't even cry, just fussed for a second to let us know his ears were bleeding. His tolerance for pain is pretty respectfully high.
Josh had surgery this Thursday. He had tubes put back into his ears, he had his tonsils out and his adnoids out. I was nervous and stressed and upset about being at the hospital by myself, but there was a part of me that was relieved it was Josh, because up until now, he has pretty much handled what his little life has given him. After his surgery the doctor came into the waiting room to let me know that the whole thing went great and that Josh was in recovery. He told me that as soon as he woke up that I would be able to go see him. I gave a deep sigh of relief and waited for the nurse to come in to tell me I could go get my little trooper.
When the nurse came in, she was in a state of panic. That pretty much set the mood for the events to follow. She told me that Josh was awake but not doing very well and that I needed to go to him immediately. When I got there he was, for lack of better description, freaking out. He was still completely drugged out - barely out of the anesthesia in pain and very afraid. He was actually in some sort of primal state acting as if he was newborn. His body was completely stiff and his back was arched with his head slightly back screaming. It's a motion I've seen more than once with a newborn who really really wanted Mommy or was in pain from gas or something but I've never seen a toddler act like this. I grabbed him and did my best to calm him down. I held him tight and tried to soothe him. Until he came a little bit more out of his drug induced state, it was almost like he was a newborn again and not having the rationalization that he was a separate entity from me. I was finally able to calm him down enough for the nurses to stop freaking out. Josh's drugs wore off enough to become enough of himself to start chanting "I hurt" "I hurt" over and over again. He then told us "I choking" which is his terminology for throwing up. He threw up blood all over the place. That made him feel a little better I think and then he went back into chanting "I hurt". I was pretty okay through this until he started praying. It was at that point that I didn't know how much longer I was going to keep it together. He just kept chanting "Please Jesus no hurt" over and over again. I asked the nurse to give him some pain medicine and he swallowed that along with a sip of apple juice. He was still semi-losing it and still periodically arching his back and stiffening his whole body in pain and through it all still praying to Jesus. He threw up his pain medicine and I guess whatever blood that was left in his stomach from the surgery. Billy unfortunately had to work that morning so I called Hannah to please come help. By the time she got there, he was much more calmed down and had obviously kept some pain medicine in his belly as he was also getting sleepy. Hannah took Josh from me and he fell into a deep sleep in her arms. Again, words are useless to describe my gratefullness for Hannah....as words always seem to come short for describing her and it was at the point of seeing that Josh was now okay that I totally and completely broke down. I think I may have concerned the nurses a bit, but I couldn't help it. I held it together as long as I could - held it together until I knew he was going to be okay and then just crumbled. I had had surgery myself (yet another back procedure) 3 days earlier so I wasn't exactly at my greatest and by that point I think we were all very very ready to go home. They wouldn't release us until Josh drank his juice. When he woke up about 15 minutes later, he wasn't super happy and jovial, but he was definitely his little Joshy self, taking life in stride and just dealing with whatever he was being dealt. Other than some pain in the middle of the night last night, he has been amazing and happy and...well...he's been Joshy.
So here I sit...digesting. I am so grateful for him. I am so grateful that he is my sweet little boy, that he is all the exciting wonderful goofy little things that make him who he is and I am so grateful, so beyond grateful, that this surgery, this routine "it happens every day" surgery is over.
Sometimes I feel like an iguana. For those of you that don't know, iguana's need something warm (preferably the sun) to digest their food. After they eat a tasty fly or creepy crawly, they have to scoot on over to a rock sitting in the sun and just hang for a little...just long enough to get the juices flowing in the tummy to digest their most recent meal. My iguana-like self needs some quiet time or down time of some sort to digest certain events, obstacles or dramas in my life. I don't necessarily need the warmth....but digesting MY most recent whatever is always easier with a lit candle or burritoed in my electric blanket or by my fireplace or in the actual sun in the back yard.
My brain is surrounded by babies. The ones I have of my own, the ones on their way and the ones just born are taking up most of my mind these days. And for the past two days, well those thoughts have been devoted to Josh.
I've tried describing more than once what it feels like to have a child...what the level of love you feel...and I always wind up short. I've realized that it's because the description was never meant to be read, or described or taught - by a book or by mouth. It's one of the few things on earth that was specifically created to FEEL. Ernest Hemingway did a pretty great job on describing items in his stories...but I don't think that even he could truly describe what it is like; not truly enough to give credit to the actual feeling of it. God specifically did things a certain way for us to feel... and having a child, knowing that love and all of the levels of emotions that come with it...well that may have been top on his list.
I have a special bond with each of my babies, as any mother does. Each of them are amazing in their own way and every day they make me laugh, amaze me and make me want to scream sometimes too. Josh is one of the happiest little guys I've ever known. He had a rough start and decided to grab life by the reigns and ride it to the fullest. He's brilliant, hysterical, beautiful and has an ancient ancient soul. I'm not even sure where his inner depths reach - but they far surpass mine. His happy go lucky attitude makes for a very easy child. He is rarely fussy, can entertain himself along with everyone else in a room and when hurt, really just brushes it off and moves forward with whatever it is he feels like doing. My bond with him is unique. I went through a special level of hell to get him here, to have him enter this world safely and healthy. I was only 14 weeks pregnant when I herniated my two discs with him. I went through 23 weeks of hospitilizations for discs rupturing, walking phnemonia, 3 day stay for an asthma attack and indescribible back pain. We made a deal with each other - he would be okay if I stayed put in the hospital bed and did whatever the doctors told me to do. The delivery sucked. The hospital actually had to have a board meeting to decide how my delivery was going to go. The decision was split 3 to 3. They didn't know if I should deliver vaginally and risk rupturing more discs or permanently messing up my back or if I should deliver by c-section leaving me with no support in my back and then cut muscles/no support in my front. They actually left the decision up to me. I was told the c-section was going to be better for Josh so that's the route I went. They had to put my epidural in one of the discs that was ruptured. To date, that is the worst pain I've experienced. There were also complications after his delivery - he was addicted to pain medicine that they made me take in the hospital for 4 weeks. He was on methedone for 6 weeks after he was born. The beginning was rough. I never ever ever wanted to see him hurt again....ever.
Josh got phnemonia when he was 14 months old. I spent my first mother's day with him awake in the hospital for 72 hours praying that he would be okay. He was a total trooper. The entire thing barely bothered him a bit. THAT is just how he is....he is the poster kid picture for "life is good".
He got tubes put in his ears when he was 17 months old. He was up and running around within hours and never complained a bit. Not one single bit.
He's had his ear drums ruptured twice from severe ear infections....didn't even cry, just fussed for a second to let us know his ears were bleeding. His tolerance for pain is pretty respectfully high.
Josh had surgery this Thursday. He had tubes put back into his ears, he had his tonsils out and his adnoids out. I was nervous and stressed and upset about being at the hospital by myself, but there was a part of me that was relieved it was Josh, because up until now, he has pretty much handled what his little life has given him. After his surgery the doctor came into the waiting room to let me know that the whole thing went great and that Josh was in recovery. He told me that as soon as he woke up that I would be able to go see him. I gave a deep sigh of relief and waited for the nurse to come in to tell me I could go get my little trooper.
When the nurse came in, she was in a state of panic. That pretty much set the mood for the events to follow. She told me that Josh was awake but not doing very well and that I needed to go to him immediately. When I got there he was, for lack of better description, freaking out. He was still completely drugged out - barely out of the anesthesia in pain and very afraid. He was actually in some sort of primal state acting as if he was newborn. His body was completely stiff and his back was arched with his head slightly back screaming. It's a motion I've seen more than once with a newborn who really really wanted Mommy or was in pain from gas or something but I've never seen a toddler act like this. I grabbed him and did my best to calm him down. I held him tight and tried to soothe him. Until he came a little bit more out of his drug induced state, it was almost like he was a newborn again and not having the rationalization that he was a separate entity from me. I was finally able to calm him down enough for the nurses to stop freaking out. Josh's drugs wore off enough to become enough of himself to start chanting "I hurt" "I hurt" over and over again. He then told us "I choking" which is his terminology for throwing up. He threw up blood all over the place. That made him feel a little better I think and then he went back into chanting "I hurt". I was pretty okay through this until he started praying. It was at that point that I didn't know how much longer I was going to keep it together. He just kept chanting "Please Jesus no hurt" over and over again. I asked the nurse to give him some pain medicine and he swallowed that along with a sip of apple juice. He was still semi-losing it and still periodically arching his back and stiffening his whole body in pain and through it all still praying to Jesus. He threw up his pain medicine and I guess whatever blood that was left in his stomach from the surgery. Billy unfortunately had to work that morning so I called Hannah to please come help. By the time she got there, he was much more calmed down and had obviously kept some pain medicine in his belly as he was also getting sleepy. Hannah took Josh from me and he fell into a deep sleep in her arms. Again, words are useless to describe my gratefullness for Hannah....as words always seem to come short for describing her and it was at the point of seeing that Josh was now okay that I totally and completely broke down. I think I may have concerned the nurses a bit, but I couldn't help it. I held it together as long as I could - held it together until I knew he was going to be okay and then just crumbled. I had had surgery myself (yet another back procedure) 3 days earlier so I wasn't exactly at my greatest and by that point I think we were all very very ready to go home. They wouldn't release us until Josh drank his juice. When he woke up about 15 minutes later, he wasn't super happy and jovial, but he was definitely his little Joshy self, taking life in stride and just dealing with whatever he was being dealt. Other than some pain in the middle of the night last night, he has been amazing and happy and...well...he's been Joshy.
So here I sit...digesting. I am so grateful for him. I am so grateful that he is my sweet little boy, that he is all the exciting wonderful goofy little things that make him who he is and I am so grateful, so beyond grateful, that this surgery, this routine "it happens every day" surgery is over.
