Ten years

Ten years ago today I was sent over to the birth center straight from my obstetricians appointment.  I was eight centimeters dilated, yet not in labor.  My body works in strange ways.  Since then, I have proved that I can sit at seven or eight centimeters dilated and not be in active labor.

I arranged for childcare and made my way over to the hospital, which was right across the street.  My packed bag was already in the car.   Once I was settled in, Pierre took Katie to the cafeteria and bought her a tray full of sugary distractions.  I made my phone calls and told everyone I would have a Flag Day baby.  My mother-in-law arrived with Emilie and Abigail and I waddled to the lounge to play with my girls before they went back home with her.

As I waited for my doctor to come, I heard a bit of a commotion in the hallway outside my door.  I began to think that the doctor forgot all about me.  The commotion outside continued.  I thought I heard crying.  It was not the cry of a newborn baby, but an adult wailing with grief.

The nurses came in and told me that they had decided to let me rest that night and not break my water.  My doctor would come to see me in the morning.  The woman in the room next to mine was delivering a baby who had passed away.  We were the only two patients at the birthing center, and since I was not in active labor they were going to devote themselves to her and her family.

My impatience turned to gratitude.

I did not dare open my door.  I wouldn't let the grieving family see me pregnant and joyful.

It became quiet in the room next door.  I heard the squeal of her bed's wheels as she was brought down the hallway to the other wing, to the room reserved for grieving parents.

The nurses didn't really think I would make it through the night, but I did.

Early the next morning, I opened my door just as the other set of parents were walking out the door, empty handed.

I was a little more than eight centimeters dilated.  My water was broken, but after a few hours nothing had happened.  My doctor ordered Pitocin and left for lunch.  In about ten minutes, I was ringing my nurse asking for an epidural.  She checked me.  I was ten centimeters and ready to push.  I don't even think my doctor had made it out of the parking lot.

After quite some time pushing, my first son was born at 6 pounds 12 ounces.  He was only 34 weeks and 5 days (I still wonder if we should have just let me sit at eight centimeters for a few days.)  He was grunting a little so they called the NICU at another hospital to transport him over.

I was allowed to leave the hospital after six hours, and I went right to the NICU to be with my son.  My husband and I walked out the birthing center's doors empty handed as well, but I was not sorrowful.  I was on my way to see my boy.  For the first three days, I only left Evan's side to sleep in a nearby room.  Ten days later he came home on an apnea monitor.

Evan is a special kid.  He is sweet and kind and funny.  Evan is extremely prepared for everything.  He keeps me on my toes.  He makes sure that everything is in order, everyone has a snack packed for school, and that I have signed every paper in his schoolbag ...twice.  Until Evan, I had never met a kid who acts like an old man.  If he had his way, he would eat waffles at every meal.  He plays hard and is extremely loyal and dedicated.  This boy is going to do great things.

Evan is excited to be turning "double digits" tomorrow.  His day is busy with Field Day, the Hamlet cast party, and Katie's end of year gymnastics party.  There will be lots of cupcakes and celebration.

Every June 14th, I remember the baby born in the room next to mine.  As I am getting ready to celebrate my son, I think of the parents and wonder how they are.  I will never forget the little soul who touched my life that day.

The Climb

Pierre, Katie, and Evan were up bright and early this morning to meet up with Den 1 to hike part of the Appalachian trail. Last night, like a good Boy Scout, Evan made sure he and Katie both had all their supplies packed in their backpacks. He made a mental checklist...extra sweatshirt – check, water bottle – check, bandaids – check. I had no doubt that they would be well prepared if Evan was in charge.

Camping is one of Evan's favorite things to do. The only thing you need to know about Evan is that he is overly eager to help and be involved, and he has no fear. Watch him around the campfire, he has been known to get his shirt, gloves, and eyebrows singed.   

Someday, I picture Evan serving as Den Chief for Linus, teaching him how to build a fire or practicing carving a piece of soap. Which reminds me that Evan asked for soap when I go shopping this week.  I am thinking this extra soap is not going to be used in the bath.

Everyone has a mountain that they need to climb. Linus' first mountain was being born at 24 weeks. He grew stronger and overcame that obstacle. Linus' next challenge is to stretch and strengthen his neck through physical therapy and wear his helmet. Before he knows it, that will be behind him as well.

“It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” - Sir Edmund Hillary

Sir Linus

We had a very early start to our day today. Josie woke up sometime around 2am and she quietly went downstairs. She climbed on Abigail's bed and tried to wake her up to play with her. There are a bunch of missed calls on our cell phones at 2:27am from Abigail. Unfortunately, we had left our phones in the kitchen last night so we were unaware of what was happening until Abigail finally dragged Josie upstairs, broken leg and all. At some point later on, Josie went back downstairs and started to play the piano which woke up a very confused Emilie. We never had a use for a gate at the top of stairs as Josie has never showed any interest in going down the steps. Diane, who is Josie's Physical Therapist too, has been working on stairs with Josie. I guess it is working. I have a very mobile and independent girl these days, and I love it.

By the time I got out of bed this morning, I had a bed full of kids, and a husband hanging on to the edge for dear life. Luckily, Linus slept through everything in his cradle next to our bed.

The back of Linus' head was a little red and irritated when I removed his helmet today. After a nice bath, and a little breather from his helmet, he was fine. Maybe his little noggin is growing. I will ask the Orthotist when we see him on Monday.

Today was Platypus Day, according to Disney Channel. While the kids played outside on this beautiful spring-like day, I set to work crafting Platypi/Platypuses for dessert tonight. They were a big hit, but licking the icing bowl was a close second.

 

Phineas and Ferb is a popular show in our house. The show is about two brothers who come up with amazing creations, with the help of their friends. Their older sister, Candace, tries to get them in trouble by tattling to their mom, but she never succeeds in busting her brothers. Perry the Platupus is their pet, and a secret agent, Agent P. Have I lost you yet?

Evan is very much like Phineas. Every day starts with a “What are we going to do today?” Then he spends his day crafting something amazing, while dealing with many Candaces. Now Evan has his “Ferb” in Linus. I am sure that someday they will go on great adventures together.

Start your engines

Dad, Can I borrow the keys?

Linus needs to wear his helmet for 23 hours a day from now on.  He seems to be doing well with it, and I think he is used to having it on.

Linus went to the Pinewood Derby today to cheer on his brother, Evan.  All the moms were happy to see Linus and there was hardly a mention of his helmet, except to tell me how cute he looked in it.  One of the boys asked what the helmet was for.  After I explained it, he told Linus how cute he was and that "he was going to be a great kid some day!"

There was a little bit of excitement this afternoon. While at the Pinewood Derby, Abigail went to the playground to hang out with her friends (who have younger siblings in Boy Scouts), fell climbing a rock, and broke her leg.  So as Linus raced around in his race car today, I had the opportunity to speed through town in an ambulance.

Half(pint)back

1st Down

Home field advantage

Today was Linus' second day with  his helmet.  He had to wear it for 4 hours at a time with1 hour off .  When I took the helmet off of Linus last night to get him ready for bed, he breathed a loud sigh of relief.  Tomorrow, Linus will wear it 8 hours at a time with a 1 hour reprieve.  I still haven't let him know that once Sunday comes, it needs to be on his head for 23 hours.

Maybe, when Linus gets older, he will be a football player like his big brother, Evan.  Evan lives and breathes football.  He can't wait for his season to start in August and now, he will have his biggest fan cheering him on from the sidelines.