Dear "L",

It seems like it was just yesterday that you came into this world tiny as can be.  Thanks for almost giving both mommy and daddy a heart attack.  You were so tiny, I had never seen, let alone held a baby that tiny before. 
You spent 27 days in the NICU before you came home.  It sure thrust me and your dad into parts of being a parent we were not prepared for.  There were some dark days during that time. 

"L" 1 day old

I will admit, I spent a lot of your first year worrying about your eating and weight gain.  But despite all of that you were suddenly 1 - and just about as cute and healthy as could be.  I couldn't believe how fast it happened!


1 year old

2 years old

3 years old

4 years old

And now you love Phineas and Ferb, Cherryberry frozen yogurt, playing outside - especially in the hose, being my garden buddy, eating samples at Costco, and any and all music.  You love figuring out how things work, and you are getting really good at putting together Lego sets!

I know this past year and a half has NOT been easy for you.  Not only did you becoming an amazing and loving big brother, but you walked along with your dad and I through some really difficult times in the process.  I know sometimes your sister gets a lot of attention.  You seem to hate it whenever she has therapy or doctor appointments, while you have to go to daycare.

But despite all of that you show nothing but love for your sister.  When she had her ear tubes placed you were so concerned for her.  You go around proclaiming to everyone has your "Lily bear" is the sweetest cutest baby in the world (your own words).  And "L" it warms my heart. 

Mommy is so happy you came first.  In ways you cannot now understand you changed my world, but also prepared me for motherhood the second time around.  And I'm so glad that your "Lily bear" has you as her big brother.  I know no matter what you will unconditionally love her, you will protect her.  She is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.

In just a few weeks you'll start Kindergarten.  How is this possible?  I know I'll cry, but at the same time I can't wait to watch as your life unfolds.  I know God has amazing plans for you little boy.

You've come SO far from those NICU days, in fact, they seem like they never even happened.
Happy birthday buddy!

This is a small snapshot into my head during an actual day last week...  These events are non-fiction.  All of them!  I like to call it the Puke-filled adventures of a working mom.  Enjoy!



I groggily get out of bed.  I've only had about 2-3 hours of sleep.  Lily has been up on/off throughout the night coughing and crying.  I took her temperature in the night, and it was low... scary low - like 96 degrees.  We bundled her up, and for the 2-3 hours I did sleep it was fitful as I was worrying about my baby girl.

I manage to get dressed, and get "L" some breakfast.  He wants a pancake, no no, cereal, no no, a waffle.  Indecisive 4 year old.  I'm irritated.

I grab the phone and watch the clock.  2 minutes to 7:30, 1 minute.  I press in all of the numbers except the last number of our pediatrician's phone number and at 7:30 on the dot, I am on the phone with the front desk.  "Yes, yes.  Me again.  Coughing, low temp.  9:00 am, is that your earliest?  OK, I'll make it work." 

I dash off an email to work, about being late because I have to take Lily to the peds office.  I play over in my head of how I will make this work, as I have a conference call looming at 10:00 am, and another one immediately following at 10:30 am.  OK, go to the doctor - they shouldn't be behind yet as they take their first patient at 8.  Assume I'll be there until 9:30, quickly (but safely of course) drive to daycare.  That takes 10 minutes, Drop off Lily - 6 minutes.  Then still have 10 minutes to make to work.  If I'm behind I can always pull over and do my conference call in a parking lot.  I write down the numbers I need on a sticky note, and paste it to my phone.

I get Lily up, and attempt to feed her a bottle between coughing.  She is NOT happy.  I change her, and get her in her car seat.  I grab a cereal bar, because I haven't had breakfast... or coffee yet.  Drive to the ped's office.  They know me.  Lily?  They ask when I walk in.  Yes, yes, $25 copay. 

We see the doctor.  I assume she is wheezy, but she's not.  I'm terrified of whooping cough, but not that either.  Ear infection.  My world stops for a moment, and I want to burst into tears right in front of a grown man.  She has tubes, I mutter.  I want to scream about the cost, and how just 2 days ago I paid the final bill for everything.  But most of all, I don't want to be back on the crazy train of ear infections we were on 3 months ago.  I ask about doing ear drops vs. antibiotics, but I'm assured that won't work.  He prescribes Augmentin.  We leave.  After leaving the pediatrician's I cry in the car. 

I stop at Caribou, I don't care if it makes me late.  I NEED coffee.  It is not optional at this point.  I drop Lily at daycare.  I have 6 minutes to spare.  I hedge my bets that I can make it.  I drive to work, and dial in - 3.5 minutes late.  Not too shabby.  I would have been 1 minute earlier had I not been stuck behind "Lawn Boys" driving 10 under the speed limit.

I spend the next 4 hours attending meetings.  With 10 minutes in between to quickly grab some lunch.  I make a bad choice - BLT (hold the mayo) and fries.  I instantly feel guilty, and take off 1/2 the bacon, all while scooping some ranch on to my fries.

I finally have a couple of hours after meetings to prep for more meetings tomorrow.  I leave at 4:15 and drive straight to the pharmacy.  They know me there too.  Sad, I think.  I find out that Lily's prescription was not sent to them.  I want to scream, but the overly kind and helpful pharmacist is a saint, and making 1 phone call she finds out somehow the ped's office sent it to a different pharmacy.  GRRRR.  She spends the next half hour trying to get the prescription transferred.  Finally, she has it and I'm outta there.

I pick up the kids.
I drive home, and make snacks and drinks for everyone.  I think about dinner.  I ask "L" what he wants.  Scrambled eggs he cries.  And so, scrambled eggs it is.  I start to make them, and Lily is mad.  So I stop.  I hold her.  My husband finally comes home, and he takes her, and I make scrambled eggs.  I feed Lily some dinner, and give her the first dose of Augmentin.  About 5 minutes later, just as the eggs are done, and I'm ready to eat, she violently projectile vomits all over the dining room table, carpet, and kitchen floor.  There is vomit on her, me, my husband, and all over the house.  I run a bath, and strip her down, I take my shirt off and throw all pukey clothes in the hallway.  I give Lily a bath, while still in my bra.
I get her cleaned up and dressed in pajamas.  I eat cold eggs and toast.  Blech! 

My husband gives her a bottle.  She fusses, and moments later, more vomit.  This time it covers the chair and both of them.  Sigh.  I cry.  I quickly think about the crazy amount of work I left undone at my office today.  I cry again.  I help him clean it up.  I scrub the beige carpet in her room on my hands and knees.  The whole house smells of vomit.  I gag a little myself.  I clean her up and put her to bed.
I get my son ready for bed.
Its 9:00 now, I work for 45 minutes.  I think about writing a blog post.  I have nothing more in me.  Not tonight.  I do the dishes, I wash bottles, I make new bottles.  Lily's crying again, I pop her paci back in and tuck her blanket around her. 
It's 10:45.  I check facebook.  11:00 pm.  I collapse into bed.
I'm a mom of a 4 year old and a 10 month old.
I work at a job outside of my home.
I work at a job inside of my home.
Some days it's amazing that I can manage to make it all happen.
Some days... some days are really hard.

You have Taught Me
by Anne Maclellan March 1998

You have taught me patience
to rejoice in small gains which others take for granted.
You have taught me tolerance
to accept that your perspective is different
and deserves respect.
You have taught me courage
to fight for you when no one else will.
You have taught me endurance
to go on when I feel I can't any more.
You have taught me humility
to accept when I can't make things better
but can only be here for you.
You have taught me to love
at a deeper level than I ever thought possible

"You have taught me patience"
I had to wait for a full 18 weeks to find out your exact diagnosis.  This required a level of patience I didn't even think I had.
"to rejoice in small gains which others take for granted."
small gains for us means in your weight and height.  You are small, everyone has to comment on it, and not necessarily in the nicest way.  They seem to think we are starving you.  You sometimes only gain 1-2 oz a week, while other babies are gaining 1/4 to a 1/2 pound.  You are tiny, but mighty.  You are in the 0 percentile for weight and 1 for height at 4 months.  At least you are getting good use out of your clothes!  Some people take the growth of a baby for granted... I rejoice at each small ounce bigger you are, at each millimeter longer you get.
"You have taught me tolerance..."
Tolerance... tolerance for the hours and hours of fussy, colicky crying, and the hours I begged for you to eat more than an ounce at a time. 
"You have taught me courage to fight for you when no one else will."
 I fought for you before you were born. I didn't have an amnio because even though the miscarriage risk is small, it is still real,and I don't play odds well.
I fought the neurosurgeon for an answer after you were born. He didn't seem to care we were waiting for an answer. I was never so glad when we were told we wouldn't be needing his assistance.
I fought for you when you were projectile vomiting twice a day, and no doctor seemed concerned.  I knew your little tummy was having issues. 
I fight for you daily... to bring you the best medical care available, and the happiest life possible.
"You have taught me endurance to go on when I feel I can't any more."
Some days... maybe more like a lot of days... I feel at the end of my rope.  When I have a full load of work, and the garage door doesn't open and the stove is broken, when both you and your brother are sick, and I haven't showered in 3 days... when you cry and cry and cry.  I wonder how much longer I can do it.  Then I think about how strong you were before you were even born.  How you showed amazing endurance then and every day since!  You are strong, you make me stronger.
"You have taught me humility to accept when I can't make things better but can only be here for you."
There is so much I cannot change with and for you.  I cannot get your missing chromosome back, I can advocate for you, but I can't change the essence of your make up.  And even though I initially wanted to, now I accept it.  I don't want it back, because then you wouldn't be you.  And I love who you are... all of it. 
"You have taught me to love at a deeper level than I ever thought possible"
Before I ever met you (except on an ultrasound screen), I loved you.  I tried for many weeks, after our devastating ultrasound to detach myself from you even though you were living inside of me.  I wanted to stop loving you, because I didn't want to hurt if you died.  I tried to ignore your kicks and punches.  I wanted to stop loving you, and the more I tried, the more I loved you.  I hold you now, I smell your little head, with its gorgeous little swirl of a curl right on top, and I am so grateful you are here, and the past year seems like a distant nightmare!

Today is National Prematurity Awareness Day.
The Empire State Building is lit in purple tonight in honor of it.

Just over 4 years ago, I knew nothing about premature birth.  The thought of it never even crossed my mind.  I didn't realize it could happen to me, and then on August 9th, 2007 I became suddenly and unexpectedly aware of premature birth, when my own little preemie entered the world at 3 pounds 4 oz and 16.5 inches long.  He was born too early, because I developed HELLP syndrome - a very severe form of preeclampsia.  The only way to save me and him was for him to enter the world... early!

27 hard, and yet precious days in the NICU followed.  I can honestly say that I still remember two of the nurses there distinctly - Debbie and Amy.  I will never be able to express to them how much they did for our family during those 27 days. 

I remember the day we brought him home.  I remember being terrified that this preemie was now living in my home with me.  We had a year of RSV shots, avoiding other people, and being scared at every little symptom.

I still walk into a hospital and can smell that distinct, antiseptic soap smell.  It's all it takes for the memories of isolettes and NG tubes to come racing back.

Today... thanks to modern medicine my preemie is a 36 pound, 4 year old.  He is in the 50th percentile for weight, and the 70th for height.  He wasn't even on the charts until he was 2.  He is smart, and fun, and social.  He loves computers, scrambled eggs, and music.  He can be sassy and sweet within the same 10 minutes, and sometimes he stands in the middle of my living room and poops his pants on purpose... I'd say he is a normal 4 year old boy... wouldn't you?  He bounced back from his early start... and then some!

Baby "L" saved me from a life of obesity.  It is because of my preemie that I decided I finally had to do something about my weight.  It makes me almost teary-eyed when he now shows pride that I'm his mommy.

"L" 1 day old

"L" 1 year old

"L" - 2 years old

"L" - 3 years old

"L" - 4 years old

Don't be a fool like me and think it can't happen to you.  1 in 8 babies are born too soon.  Prematurity is the number one killer of newborns!  I support the March of Dimes, as they try to lower these statistics.

Yes... you all know that Lily is a miracle, but my first born is also a miracle!  And he was even tinier than she was!  I am the luckiest mom in the world to be the mother of 2 miracles! 

My mom - 80 years old

"L" 1 day old

I don't think my mother expected that at nearly 46 years old she'd be embarking down the path of motherhood for the SIXTH time.  She could have easily changed her mind, people may have even encouraged her to change her mind, but she didn't.  She knew that God always has a plan.  Boy, I'm glad she stuck with it, as I'm here... and so is my dear son, because of her.

Will you take a moment to thank your mom today for making your life possible.  After knowing about living the drama it takes to bring a child into the world, I know that I will.