A Letter to Jack on his First Birthday

Dear Jack,

Today is your very first birthday.

It wasn’t supposed to be today though. It was supposed to be Friday, April 13th, but you decided that you were impatient to come out and see the world.

So one year ago today, you ignored the drugs that they were giving me to keep you comfy in my belly for another couple months. You decided that 31 ½ weeks was enough. Either that or you were bored of the healthy diet I’d just started following for my gestational diabetes.

I was pretty calm through most of the labor, even though it had been going on for over 40 hours. I make all my mommy friends mad when I say it truly didn’t hurt much until I finally rounded the corner to pushing you out.

At that point, I was afraid.

I was afraid that there would be pain.
I was afraid that you were too early and your lungs wouldn’t work.
I was afraid I was going to poop on you. But don’t worry, I didn’t.

You arrived into the world at 5:45 am* and you screamed your little head off. At that sound, your grammy, daddy and I all started sobbing. By some miracle, your lungs were fully formed and functional. You had all your fingers and toes (and I’m hoping you still do…), along with a head full of hair.

426261_10150679467739540_1366343662_nYou were early to the party though and lived in the NICU for three weeks. You needed to stay in your special incubator for most of the day, but for 20 minutes we were allowed to hold you.

We looked forward to those 20 minutes all day long and when we finally got permission to take you out we’d extract you so carefully – trying hard not to tug on any of the monitors or wires connected to your little chest, or foot, or mouth.

422553_10150679466684540_685898975_nYour daddy and I would take turns with you in our arms. Smelling your baby hair. Kissing your tiny little cheeks and nose. Letting you grab our fingers with your eensy weensy little hands.

Oh, and I licked you.
Because I could. You were mine and I couldn’t believe it.

This past year has been a total whirlwind. I know that all parents say that, but now that I lived it I realize that it’s true. Looking at you now, on the cusp of walking and talking, it is so hard to believe that just 12 months ago you were monitored by machines and too tiny to even drink a couple milliliters of milk.

I had no idea what kind of mom I would be, but somehow you’ve brought out this incredibly patient person that I’ve never known before. Both your daddy and I show you love every single day, because we feel so blessed to have you in our lives. For that first month, it was like my heart was torn out when I couldn’t kiss you as often as I would have liked, which is why I probably kiss you too much now.

28933_10151480964014540_610553500_nI hope you feel that love and continue to feel it for every single day of your entire life.

Happy Birthday & I love you,
Mommy

 

* Which is funny, because this morning you woke up at exactly 5:45 am, even though you typically wake up around 7:30 am.

For a shortcut to the Story of Jack’s Birth, click here.

Like what you see? Share me with your friends!

Fast Forward

I mentioned earlier this week that I was going to take Jack for his very first professional haircut in preparation for his birthday. I had done little trims here and there over the past year – first when all his baby hair fell out, then again when he grew a pretty sweet mullet. Even though they turned out well, I didn’t really trust myself to fully cut his hair. So we decided to take him to a kid salon that specializes in squirmy babies.

Before our appointment, when my mom or friends would ask if I was going to keep some of Jack’s hair for his baby book, I kind of snorted a little. I mean, I have plenty of pictures of him but haven’t ACTUALLY done a baby book yet. I know, bad mommy. I do have a baby box, full of things that would eventually go in a baby book. So I guess that counts for something.

Anyways, we went to the salon on Wednesday and patiently waited our turn. We decided that Travis would hold Jack on his lap, so that I could snap a few pictures. I’m proud to say that Jack didn’t freak out at all and was pretty calm through the whole thing. There were a couple times where he didn’t get the meaning of “look down” but um… he’s just turning ONE. I’m pretty sure that’s not an order that typical one year olds follow, right?

So the lady started chopping away at his hair – first with the clippers and then with her scissors. At that point, some crazy animal instinct took over and I darted forward and grabbed a handful of baby hair off his shoulder.

At that moment, when he was morphing from my preemie baby to an almost grown boy I freaked out a little. I mean, I swear I might see some beard hair sprouting away if I looked close enough.

haircut 1

haircut 2

haircut 3

haircut 4

haircut 5

What’s done is done though and somehow it creeped up on me that my little baby has turned into a toddler. It’s only a matter of time before he releases his tight grip on the ottoman, the bookcase or the chair and takes his first steps.

He seems ready. I’m not.

Like what you see? Share me with your friends!

My Life is a TV Show

Do you ever feel like the people on TV are reflecting your life back at you?

I mean, of course we watch television shows that are relatable, but I watched two different shows on Monday night that mirrored my feelings right back at me. Totally weird, right?

First, I was watching How I Met Your Mother (as I’ve been known to do). Lily recently had a baby and has been struggling a bit with her transition into motherhood. In Monday’s episode, she confesses that she thinks she’s a bad mother because sometimes she just gets so overwhelmed with her responsibilities that she wants to just run away.

Then, about a half hour later on Bones, Angela says almost the exact same thing. She misses the old version of herself – the version who would walk through museums and enjoy the artwork. She’s not happy with who she currently is and isn’t quite sure how to change things.

I’m there.
So incredibly there.

This past weekend was HARD. All last week I was dealing with my own sickness, my husband’s cold and Jack’s hospital stay with bronchiolitis and RSV. Oh yeah, and working on top of that. All I wanted for the weekend was to curl up on the couch with a book for an hour or so. Just an hour would have been fine.

Of course, this didn’t happen. Jack decided that naps were for chumps and Travis had planned a full weekend working in the garage with a friend. Leaving me to be Supermom for another two days.

I was done. DONE.

I was frustrated and angry and just all around DONE with the situation. At one point, I wanted to walk out into the garage, hand Jack to my husband, and get in my truck and leave.

I don’t know where I would have gone, but it would have been somewhere where I only had to worry about myself. I didn’t though. Instead I unleashed my fury on Travis when he came inside. Which apparently worked, because he then took me out to dinner and gave me a massage.

I’m feeling better this week. Everyone is almost totally healthy again (knock on wood), which brings my stress level down a half-turn. I also booked a beach vacation for March, which gives me some relaxation to look forward to. Will this cure me forever? Um, probably not. Motherhood is HARD FREAKING WORK and sometimes you need a break.

It’s nice to see them dealing with the same issues on my favorite TV shows though.

It makes me feel like a little less of a failure. Because when I take a step back and look at it with clear eyes, I know I’m not a failure. I’m actually a pretty awesome mom. But I’m also Joules, a person other than a mom. Sometimes I just need to remember that.

Like what you see? Share me with your friends!