Birthday Pics

Long after the party with family, the four of us settled in to celebrate Zach's big day together. Just like it was a year ago when he came into the world. Without the stress of party planning and associated to-do lists, we were able to just focus on soending time together. And we had a ball, though when we sang "Happy Birthday" to my precious baby boy, I was crying too much to get all the way through the song. Zach enjoyed cake and ice cream for the third time (the first for the cake smash photos with the photographer and the second being the party with my in-laws). This time, I made chocolate-butterscotch cupcakes with vanilla frosting. An it seems with each occasion, Zach has gotten even more into it. This time, he even had sprinkles in his eyelashes before it was all said and done. The chocolate ice cream made an even bigger, hilarious mess, and we all dissolved into laughter when he tried to even lick the plate.

Overall it was a great day.

One

"I was six months old and full of fun.

With the blink of an eye, I was suddenly one..."



I started out with what seemed like endless photos of Zach and the intention was to make a video so poignant and moving that you would cry as you watched. And then I really thought about it. A) I'm no Spielberg, and B) why would you cry anyway? Instead you get this: poor transition timing, perhaps too long, and even one photo that repeats (Gold star for whoever can tell me which one it is!). What I did manage to do was make myself cry. A lot. From the photos. From the music. Because I was there.
I was there the day we discovered there was even going to be a baby. The day I took five separate home pregnancy tests, unable to believe that I was really pregnant. That after all of that time of me wanting another baby and never having one, and suddenly, at the point where I had given up and moved on with my life, there he was. His name was selected because I read online that Zachary means God has remembered.

I was there, in my bedroom, day after day, watching YouTube videos of preemies each and every day. A 26-weeker, a 28-weeker. And as the contractions got worse and my resolve got weaker and weaker, the searches got more specific: 30 weeks, 1 day; 31 weeks; 5 days. This is what my baby will look like. Will he be intubated? Have an IV in his head? Be swollen, yet tiny? have transparent skin that looks almost alien? And people generally don't put the horror stories on YouTube So I watched and cried and drew every single shred of hope from the success stories I could find at ever stage of gestation. And the first song in my video was in just about all of them.

I was there on the day he came into this world. And I felt that fear. And guilt. Fear that I had somehow caused this, that although his lungs were deemed mature, there was more to it than that. The 35-week brain is vastly smaller than the 40-week brain. And though we thought I was 35 weeks, there actually was a miscalculation of my due date that wasn't discovered until 5 weeks postpartum. Should I have lied about the contractions? And what if something happened to me in the process? Could John raise them both alone, armed with only my life insurance?



I was there when the doctors held him over the drape and I saw the scrunched up face. And the hair! I will never forget that hair. Enough hair that it had shown up on an ultrasound. Only this was no ultrasound. This was him. In front of my face. And he was half-whimpering, half-crying. No hearty, robust cry. And I cried. A day shift anesthesiologist I do not know, and never have met at work since, was the one to wipe my tears. Because as a respiratory therapist, I knew what that meant.



I was there in my room and I couldn't see him. And I didn't know if he was warm or cold. Breathing or not. Was he confused that he wasn't hearing my voice anymore? My heartbeat? was he rooting for me and I was nowhere to be found? My heart and my arms ached for him, this child for whom I went through so much.



I was there when they put him into my hands. Yes, hands. He was that small in stature that, with my hands under his head and back, his little butt aligned with my wrist. Which is so bizarre considering his birth weight. But he was swollen. From fluids. From drugs. I look back at his newborn photos and see that now. This is why he lost over a full pound in a little over a day. Which they mistook as a nutrition issue, and is thus why we were made to give him formula from day one. I'm so sorry for that because that isn't how it is supposed to be. But not really sorry because he is here. The drugs, the fluids, the hormones, and yes, the formula...they all worked.



I was there in those first nights. When I would just cuddle with him and breathe in the smells of newborn breath. With the downy top of his tiny head tucked under my chin, I realized I could've lived my entire life just like that. And suddenly, I didn't give a damn about medical school or whether they would hold my job open long enough for me to come back to work. I would find another job, do something else for school.



I was there when that smile first flashed at me. That bright, amazing smile. All gums and innocence and joy. As if a million stars were harnessed and placed right here for me. And those first baby giggles. My heart melted. And soared.



I was there. For each day in the life of this baby boy. For an entire year. Me. I was that lucky, that blessed to wake up (or return from work) each day and witness a new miracle unfold in this boy's life. To feel the sheer joy this baby has brought to the world. The love. The patience. And the best part is that I get to continue to be there, that this is not the end but the beginning.



I was there when God (or Allah or Yahweh or Jehovah or whomever you place your faith with) decided that this world was good enough for Zachary. That my life was good enough for Zachary. That I am good enough for Zachary. I'll never understand how that is possible.



I was there for the first minute, day, week, month....The first year in the life of a living miracle.




Happy First Birthday, Zachy.

(Photo Credits: The Eleven-month photos from the video, the cake-smash photos from the video, and the photo in this post were all taken by Katie Woodring (http://www.katiewoodring.com/). Though I purchased the copyrights to these photos and am in no way infringing legally on her rights as an artist, I am giving credit where credit is due. Thank you, Katie.)

Our Carpet Picnic (Among Other Things)

Tonight we gnoshed on homemade chicken alfredo and garlic bread. Zach participated in the family dinner today as we settled on the living room floor with bowls brimming with pasta. And I got brave. Despite Zach's trouble with tectures in his food, I gave him few noodles and a the crusty end of the loaf of bread. He was more interested in the bread than the noodles, but he did fine with both: no gagging, no sputtering, no choking.

He also pulled himself to a standing position today for the first time, though I didn 't capture that on film. Before I could, he landed on his little butt.

Go, Zachy, Go!

More from today, courtesy of Evan and John, all taken while I tried to sleep away my illness (in one, you can even see my blog pulled up in the background as I fell asleep with it open):

Disclaimer: Why does my kid appear to weigh a gazillion pounds in the pic of him on the ride-on toy??? He only weighs 20 lbs, 4 oz., which is significantly slowed down from an earlier gaining pace. But the kid is only 23.75 inches long, making him as wide as he is tall almost. Welcome to your genes, Zachy!

9 Months

Today, my Zach is 9 months old. I cannot believe we are 3/4ths of the way through his first year. Gah!
He is still working on that first tooth. Just when I think I am going to have to pay professionals to surgically help him, he shows me, once again, that he will do it all in his own time. Yesterday, when I felt his gum with my finger, it felt like it might be breaking through finally. I went to check the progress this morning and he puckered his lips and shook his head as if to say, "No way, Lady." So I have no more progress to update than that.
Speaking of "when he woke up this morning",I went into his room and gasped in horror. He was laying face down. The plan was to peek in and check on him without waking, but the position he was in freaked me out so badly that I instantly reached down and poked him to make sure he was breathing. His entire upper body was out of the swaddler and he had rolled over to get into a comfy position for him. Too bad it is a position that completely scares the crap out of me. The risk of SIDS is supposed to be virtually nonexistent after 6 months, so just when I think we are in the clear, I remind myself that Zach is almost 2 months younger than his chronologic age. So up until now, he has still been swaddled in order to sleep. This morning changed that, I think. Of course whether or not he will sleep without the swaddler remains to be seen. There may be some rough, sleep-deprived waters in our near future.
He has started to do some major catching up in the past month. Pulling himself up about three quarters of the way. Graduating to the big boy carseat. Really, truly sitting up. Transitioning from a prone position to sitting. His cognitive skills are great. When he's sitting in front of you and you clap your hands, his little face lights up and he takes over for you, using his hands to clap yours. Yesterday, John was singing the Pat-a-Cake song to him and Zach was doing all of the motions for John using John's hands. He'll pick up his binky or bottle and try to put it in my mouth, his version of sharing. If he gets ahold of my glasses, he'll try to put them on his own face, because, hey, that's where they go, right? Right now, we're working on the finer points: his ring stack; blocks; nesting cups; the concepts of in/out, over/under, etc. I bought him a set of these large soft blocks and have been working with him on how to build stacks, and he knocks them down, squeals with delight, and throws them at me. Oh, well. We'll get there. Thankfully,I bought the soft blocks...
Zach has quite the little personality. When I was at BRU buying the carseat and lightweight stroller this past month, it became apparent that I would be needing a new Floppy Seat. Ours was actually fitted to a cart with no elastic and was too complex for words. As a result, it remains on Zach's closet shelf, unused. We bought the actual brand Floppy Seat instead and since he now is out of the infant carseat, it goes with us to stores so Zach can sit in the shopping cart. And he does. He perches like a little prince and stares at everything and everyone. Shopping takes twice as long because he is way more visibile now and with his chubby, rosy cheeks, he looks like the fricken Gerber baby. So random strangers stop us over and over, and of course social Zach smiles and coos and babbles at them, and so they talk to him even longer. And in case someone doesn't notice him, he will let out a yell until they do, and then laugh and smile when they look his way, and the above process starts. Evan was like this, too. For some reason, my children have no concept of stranger anxiety and would be easy as pie for a pedophile/kidnapper/axe murderer to snatch.
He eats well, too. That's no shock if you've seen pics of him. We've yet to have any food challenges. Well, unless you count the fact that anything thicker than pudding gags him. I think this is more of a developmental thing and will pass. He doesn't like veggies though. Feeding him has gotten just a tad more difficult in that he insists on trying to help. He's also very interested in our food, our drinks. And I doubt that, no matter how creative I get with rationalizations, I can fit my Diet Mt. Dew into the all natural diet I have created for him. This is probably the greatest source of frustration because no matter how much he wants to try our stuff, he has the GI system of a 7 month old and so I know he isn't ready to handle it yet.
All-in-all, he's still an absoute joy. I keep waiting to hit a rough patch or a challenge and we never do. Teething hasn't phased him. Solid foods hasn't. Sleep never did. Where did this easy, happy baby come from? We haven't encountered an ear infection, a cold, a runny nose. He's not been sick once. Even with baby-proofing the house! I can be more laid-back with Zach because if he starts to go after something we don't want him to, all we have to do is say, "No, Zachy", and redirect him, and he is fine with it. I couldn't do any of this with Evan, who was hell on wheels.
So there you have it. The plan for the next month is to have his pics taken and start to plan for his birthday. Both are going to be big operations because last time we visited the photographer, we did pics of just Zach. I was thinking we need new pics of Evan as well this time when John informed me he also wants family portraits. Meaning I have to be in the shots, too. And I am the least photogenic person in the world, so I dread it. And for his birthday, we are thinking of going down to John's mom's to have his birthday party, which requires planning and requests for days off. His first birthday. I cannot believe it will be here that soon.
In closing, here are some pics, starting with an atrocious one of me with Zach as we slept on the living room floor after I got home from work one morning. Of course, John had to get out the camera.

8 Months and a Nagging Feeling

Yesterday, Zach turned 8 Months Old. I couldn't blog because I was out and about town. Upon returning home, John and I watched The Social Network, which I had been wanting to see. All of this served as a good way to stall the 8 Months post, which is great, since I have dreaded saying what I am about to say.

I'm worried about Zach. I really am. He is doing nothing new this month. He still just scoots instead of actual crawling. He's gotten better at it. He's quicker, and I can tell he's stronger by the way he reaches and turns. He'll get almost up to where he is on one leg, with the other three appendages up in te air trying to get stuff that has caught his interest. He'll sit unsupported for a couple of minutes before he suddenly faceplants or flops backward, which means I have to worry about him getting hurt and so I always just lay him on his back to play unless I am sitting right there. We aren't making any consonant sounds when we babble. He still has no teeth.

So what is he doing? Well, he's doing everything a little better and more purposefully. When we are out of his sight, he looks for us. The same with toys, which tells me he understands object permanence. When playing with him on the floor, he'll pull you toward him and put his mouth on your face to give a kiss. He's taking solids better. He'll finally hold his own bottle, though we still cuddle with him at feedings. He's very very social and can command the attention of an entire room of people. Yesterday, we were at lunch when his smiles, giggles, squeals and coos had strangers in the restaurant coming up to our table to comment on his cuteness. He can do the whole pincer grasp thing now. And he wants to play. He loves clapping hands. One day, I was trying to teach him to clap his hands by taking his hands with mine and clapping them for him. Instead he learned how to clap my hands and so now he will grab my hands with his and clap them for me. He's still a chubster. He's engaging and happy. He watches everything like a hawk and you can just see him learning!

But the things he isn't doing yet just grabs my attention and induces worry. I keep reminding myself of his prematurity in an effort to quiet the nagging feeling. I'm sure this has a little to do with some of it, as does the fact that every baby is different and that babies don't develop uniformly. They may mature by leaps and bounds in the cognitive arena one month then turn and make strides in the motor skill area the next month. Evan did all of the motor stuff way early and by the time he was a year old, we already had him in a toddler bed because he had learned to escape his crib and I was worried the leap to the floor would hurt him. But then he talked really late, prompting us to hae him evaluated by a developmental interventionalist. Turns out all was fine and when he did finally speak, instead of monosyllable babble, it was in clear and complex sentences. I'm hoping Zach will be the same and will do everything in his own time.

So for now, the plan is to watch and see what happens this month. He goes for another well-child appointment next month, and if I am still so worried, I'll discuss it with the doc and get a referral to have him evaluated. In the meantime, I will stew over every dose of every medication they gave me while I was pregnant and I'll worry about every day that we could have kept him in there and didn't. And I will fret that this is all my fault and if I would have just lied about the contractions, all would be fine right now...

Unsupported

Zachy finally did it, and of course I had a camera in his face to capture the moment. Then I looked and realized what a perfect example of parenthood this is, because you can see my hand hovering behind his back, ready to catch him if he should fall. One day I won't be able to do that. And then I focused in on his face. That sweet Angel Face. My baby's growing up.

7 Months,Almost

Tomorrow night, I start a very long work week and don't know when I will be able to post anything. But on Monday, Zachy will be 7 months old. So where are we?

Well, he's teething. He has been, sort of, before now. Now he really is. Drooling. Gnawing on his fingers, my fingers, any type of cloth he can get into his mouth. Today he was taking the little Avent teether and rubbing it against his gums so vigorously that it was making little squeaking sounds. Here he is with those yummy fingers!

He's still short. 23 1/4 inches long. The walker, Baby Einstein jumpy thing, the Johnny Jump-Up...these are just a few of the activity/entertainer thingies I have bought or borrowed that do not allow his feet to touch the floor. We finally found something though: Bright Starts' Around-We-Go entertainer. Santa brought it for him, but it's too large to wrap and so it is assembled and put to use. He loves it, we love it, and his feet touch the floor. Here he is in it, with the seat turned around so he can see us.

I don't think he'll ever crawl! I don't think he has any interest in it, to tell the truth. He will get up on all fours, rock a bit, then topple over on his side. Instead of trying again, he just rolls and scoots to wherever he wants to go. He got pretty quick with it, too. In the blink of an eye, he is all the way across the room. I'm betting he will be one of those babies who never crawl and go straight to walking.

He's still the happiest, easiest baby in the world. I keep waiting for him to hit a fussy spell and it never happens. The teething thing is getting to him a bit, so I know he's human, but not even that is very bad. Here he is letting us know his gums hurt.

He loves 'nanas and peaches. I have yet to find a veggie he will eat without spraying me with it by blowing raspberries. Peas and sweet potatoes both gagged him. Cereal is still a gigantic no-no. He hates it! And yes, I'm still making his food. He still gets about 5 bottles of breastmilk a day, and a bottle or two of formula a day. I cannot believe I've kept it up this long. 5 more months until I reach my goal of 1 year!

The beloved bouncy seat is on the verge of retirement. He keeps trying to sit up in it. Well, not really trying--he actually does unless one of us is sitting there actively bouncing him in it. The result is that he will kind of flip out of it, dangling by the safety straps which scares me.

After Christmas, I am going to buy his big-boy carseat. ( After Christmas because A: the one I want is pretty expensive and Christmas has wiped me out, and B: I asked for BRU giftcards from Santa, and if I get them, they will help me cover the expense.) He is now 19 pounds and the weight of the infant carseat with him in it is getting to be too much. It would have been fine if we would've left him in the original one (Graco SnugRide) that came with our travel system , but we upgraded when he was 3 or 4 months old to the one that accomodates babies up to 35 pounds (SnugRide 35) in the same pattern, and it weighs a ton. Of course this gets me all excited! I can get rid of the bulky travel system stroller and replace it with a lighter one, then we can just use it or the Ergo when we go out. My trunk will thank us! And for the first time since May, I be able to fit both groceries and the stroller in the car at the same time. Of course this prolongs the dreaded transition to minivan I was afraid we would have to make. I am so not ready for the minivan phase of my life.

He babbles and it is so cute. Ba-ba-ba. Da-da-da, Ga-ga-ga! I love listening to it. What do I not like hearing? The scream he has mastered and uses whenever he gets pissed!

Last week, we had to take him for his first ever sick-child appointment. He was wheezing all day last Sunday.I noticed it would improve, but each time he would spit up, it would start again. He hardly ever spits up, but that day, he got his usual diet in reverse: only 2 bottles of breastmilk and 5 bottles of formula. I had underestimated and froze too much the day before. And he spit up a ton that day. The culprit, we think, is reflux. Breastmilk is just gentler on his tummy, so we ever noticed it before. Reflux is pretty common in preemies, so I'm not alarmed. The doc was going to put him on nebulizer treatments, but I insisted on an inhaler with a masked spacer. Because I'm a RT, he gave in. We've only used it once since then.

I guess that's all I have to report. More at 8 months!

No Longer a Believer

Picture the scene: I am sitting on the floor, playing with Zach and asking him (though I know he won't answer) what he would like for Santa to bring him for his first Christmas. Evan, who is sitting beside us, erupts into giggles. I ask him what is so funny. He doesn't answer at first, but after some prodding, he whispers, " We have to keep up appearances, you know, for Zach." I ask him what he is talking about, and his reply was, "Zach still believes."

So we started this whole conversation in which my 9-year-old baby boy confessed that he no longer believed in Santa. When I asked him where all of his Christmas presents come from, he told me he knows I buy them. "Not Daddy because he doesn't work", he said. I first tried to deny this, then told him that the money I earn is Daddy's money, too. That Daddy works taking care of him and of Zach so I can work. He bought this, but still denied Santa Claus.

"Mother, do you really expect me to believe that one man goes to all of those houses, all over the world, in one night??? It would take him all night just to get here from the North Pole."

First of all, "Mother"????? When did I stop being Mommy or Mama and start being Mother??? Secondly, I tried to explain that Santa is magic, to which I got this reply:
" No way. Magic is just an illusion. And besides, like I said, he couldn't posibly get to those houses. He would have to travel at the speed of light and no human can do that."
It became apparent that I was not going to win this one. And then I became sad.
My baby is growing up too fast.
It isn't that I am so distraught over Santa. I am sad over the loss of innocence. The loss of wonder at the holiday season. He will no longer give that little gasp of surprise and have that little spark of amazement when he sees the gifts under the tree on Christmas morning He won't hurry to the plate of cookies left for Santa, just to check if they had been eaten. And for him, from now on, Christmas will no longer be magical. He'll know I worked to pay for those toys. He'll know John and I stayed up late wrapping them for him. He may even say he is too old to visit Santa and get the cute annual low-quality photo we get to chronicle that year's holiday season. I can literally see him grow in those photos over the past nine years. And because we are not a religious family, Christmas will just be about gifts.

(Image: Evan at 2 years: when he still believed, when I was still "Mommy", when Christmas was still magical, and his innocence was still intact.)

Halfway: Reflections on Zach's First Six Months

Yesterday, our little Zachy turned 6 months old and I was unable to blog about it because my home computer is acting so bizarre that within 5 minutes of turning it on, I am so exasperated that I could scream.

We are halfway to Zach's first birthday. I must have blinked.

I could bore you with all of the milestones reached, but do you really care? Instead I will just say that my youngest son is growing in leaps and bounds. I'm sitting here right now replaying his first six months like a montage in my head. My miracle child. Because not only did I survive the pregnancy, but he did as well. And if I haven't said it before, I will say it now: every single contraction, needle stick, hospitalization was such a small price to pay to be given the gift that is my Zachary. It still amazes me how he fit into our lives so seamlessly. When we are high-strung and nervous, he is content and relaxed. When we are down, he giggles and smiles at precisely the correct moment. When I was overwhelming myself with career and education and goals, he came along to put things into proper perspective for me.

After six months, SIDS becomes much less of a risk. I can now admit that the fear that something would happen to him all but paralyzed me over the past six months. He is just too perfect for this world, and on more than one occasion, I have held him in my arms as the tears flowed because I was just so convinced that he was too good to be true, and surely something was going to happen. I feel like I can breathe now while I revel in the gift I have been given.

I look into his wide baby blues and my sense of wonder at the world around me is renewed. Once again I can appreciate the vivid colors around me, the sights, the smells, the new experiences. And for the third time in my life, I get to know love that is so deep it is almost soul-crushing. As he moves into this next stage of development, I get to show him more of the world. I get to be the one to tell him what snow is or how to rip open the wrapping on his Christmas presents, what a peach tastes like, and more. I cannot wait for any of it. This is parenthood at its finest. We, as parents, get the heartbreak and the tears of child-rearing as payment for the joys we receive when we get to teach our children about the world around them. I firmly believe this.

I am writing this from work right now while my family is at home, sleeping away the night. And in the morning, I will go home to them. To John's Sunday pancake breakfast, complete with Evan's sticky maple-scented kisses and Zach's coos and smiles he reserves only for me--his mommy. And for what has to be the thousandth time in one single morning, I will marvel at how I came to be so blessed. And I credit Zach for the reminder to take it all in, for showing me the gifts that were there all along.

Here's to the next 6 months....

Five Months

Zach, five months ago today: The first time I held him after he was released to me from the NICU. He was about 5 hours old.

Zach now, at 5 months old.

Today, Zach is five months old. And he's still my angel.
He reaches for, and grabs anything and everything around him. And he now has enough coordination that everything makes its way to his mouth now. He gets frustrated when he drops a toy and will voice his displeasure until we retrieve it for him. And he gets seriously pissed if he cannot reach whatever has piqued his interest.

He rolls in both directions now, making tummy time nearly impossible. You can put him on a blanket with toys on the floor and he will roll and inch his way all around until he is somewhere else entirely.

He eats like a madman and takes about 6 6-ounce feedings a day. Of those, 2 are formula and the rest are breastmilk. In an effort to satisfy him more, we have tried cereal. Rice first. Mixed with water, mixed with formula, mixed with breastmilk---you name it--he has no interest. So we tried Barley and got the same result. Actually, the barley was worse: he actually shuddered at the taste.

On the sleeping front, he goes to bed at about 7:30/ 8:00 and wakes at about 6:30. This hasn't changed. The only thing different is that he fights sleep more. He still has to be swaddled and have a pacifier to sleep. But once off to Dreamland, he pretty much stays there, except for when I am off. Then it is like he has some internal sensor that tells him I am here, in the house, and he wakes at about 5:00. I secretly love this time: John and Evan are still asleep and I get to cuddle and talk to him--just the two of us.

He still loves the Moby Wrap, but instead of the positions I used for him when he was a newborn, I have to use holds that allow him to observe the world around him. It still works, but I am thinking about purchasing another type of carrier to use in addition to it. One less complicated that perhaps John will use as well without being intimidated. He still refuses to use the Moby, saying the wraps look too complicated.

Zach's blue eyes are here to stay. They are actually getting lighter in color. He has lost all of his newborn hair except for a tiny patch at his neck in the back. His real hair is coming in and is just the same texture, and even stands up like his newborn hair did. Except this hair is actually a strawberry blonde color, which I find hilarious. His head is so soft and fuzzy that I cannot keep from rubbing my cheek against it when I am holding him. It's that irresistible.

He "talks" all of the time. "Gheeeeeeeee!" in varying octaves, decibels, and tones based on his mood. My favorite is when I return from work and he sees me. Then it is more of a soft, lilting sound that tells me that, despite my crazy hours at work, he knows I am his mother, he loves me, knows I love him, and is genuinely happy to see me. Incidentally, he doesn't do this with John, but instead is more excited, showing me that there is a different dynamic between mother-son and father-son relationships. Not better or worse. Just different, which is very interesting to me at such a young age.

He loves his big brother and his big brother loves him.

He's wearing anything from 3 months to 6-9 months size-wise. The different brands run so differently! Regardless, he is so different from Evan at this age. Evan was tiny and petite. Zach is chubby. Short, but chubby. At 15 lbs., he weighs more than Evan did at one year. Any evidence of his prematurity, both size-wise and development-wise, is long gone.

People say he looks like John and Evan. While there are some resemblances, I don't think he looks like either. Truthfully? He looks like my mom. I see more of her in him daily, which is slightly eery to me considering I found out his lungs were ready and my nightmare was ending on her birthday--May 12--and he was born the day after. My emerald baby. Nobody sees this but me because the people in my life came in after she passed away. I don't know what I believe, but either she sent him to me or he is her reincarnated.

2 days ago, he did the "Pick me up, Mommy" arm reach for the first time and it melted my heart.

I guess that's all. Next up: 6 months, or the halfway point in his first year. Where did the time go???

Missing

I have been working too much, and I hate it. I know why I do it. $$$$$. But I feel like I am missing from my own life. From Zach's, Evan's, and John's life. And I'm sad.

John and I came to an agreement when I went back to work. I felt bad about having to return to work so soon and leaving Zach, but I had to do it. And John has done a stellar job taking care of our baby. Zach is clean and fed and happy. He's now on target with his milestones. But John didn't uphold his end of the agreement. Here's why:

I have worked 55 hours in the past 4 days. Gross, I know. But true. And I am so tired and weary that my bones are aching. And this means I am away a lot. John promised that when Zachary started doing something new, instead of presenting it to me in a way that left me feeling even worse, he would let me discover it on my own as if it were the first time Zach did it. So Saturday morning, I get out of work and my boys are waiting for me in the car outside of the hospital. And as soon as I get in the car, John is bursting with excitement. Zach finally did it! He rolled over. Up until that point, he had been doing his weird but funny thing where he would balance on his belly with arms and legs up in the air and rock back and forth, trying his hardest to roll over. It reminded me of a turtle stuck on his back, honestly, only in reverse with Zach on his ventral side. Hilarious, actually. But he finally did it. Of course I was sad because I missed it.

So today, I am trying to get Zach to do some tummy time. Despite my best efforts, he will not usually tolerate it more than 5 minutes. We have to get him off of his back in other ways, like his Jumperoo (even though he is a little too young), the Bumbo (which he hates), or the Moby Wrap. Whatever works, really, since his head is getting a little flat area on it. Anyhow, he is there on his tummy and getting seriously pissed off about it when he learns that he has a new manner to escape: he just flips over. Just like that, arms extended and a look of surprise on his face that was priceless as it dawned on him that he was no longer in the dreaded belly-down position. And so a new era has begun in our house.

Zach is no longer stuck where we put him. More caution is warranted in such things as changing his diaper on the changing table, casually laying him next to us on the sofa, and more. And before I know it, he will be crawling and nothing from the knee-height and down will be sacred any more in our house. And there will be more he will do that I will miss.

Invisible Wings

Today marks 4 months since the day Zachary entered our world. 4 months to the day when unspoken fear paralyzed me and I worried that despite all of the tests to ensure otherwise, it would just be too soon for him. 4 months since the day he was in the NICU, away from me and I worried about his fate long before I was able to hold him for the first time. Since the day we finally met and everyone in the room was silent as mother and son just stared at each other, breathing each other in after months of pain.

I'm struggling to put into words just what this little boy has brought to my life. He showed me my toughness. He showed me just how much my heart can hold, how much I love being a mother. That miracles really can happen not once, but twice, to the same life. Or is he really my miracle? Perhaps he is his own and I am just the one priviledgd enough to witness it.

It is absolutely amazing to watch his personality unfold before my eyes. Big personality in such a small packege. 14 pounds of preciousness. To see the wonder in his eyes as he takes in the world around him renews in me a sense of just how amazing everything can be. And I want to give him nothing but the best. I did with his older brother as well, but not quite to this extent. I was always more of a creature of convenience. I hardly recognize myself these days: babywearing, breastfeeding, making my own baby food, considering cloth diapering. I never thought this would be me. Zach did that.

As for Zachy's development, I refuse to allow myself to get caught up in timelines for milestones. I know he was premature and have the expectation that he will be a month or two behind his peers. But regardless, he is happy and healthy and thriving. He will do it all in his own time. As for right now, he is the most social baby. He has the warmest of smiles for everyone, especially Mommy and Daddy. He has slept through the night since about six weeks of age, which is amazing because for him, 6 weeks of age was my actual due date. He bats at toys and tries to "talk" to them in his baby language. His hands curl around his toys and he brings them to his mouth, but I don't yet think this is purposeful. When he is held close, he still curls into the ball of a newborn, with legs tucked up under his belly and arms close to his chest. He still loves being swaddled. He takes 2 naps per day. My favorite time of day is when I have just returned from a night of work and Zach and I retreat to my bed were he lays in the crook of my arm, close to my heart, and nurses as he drifts off to sleep. Long after he falls asleep and I should be asleep, I find myself awake and just staring into his sleeping face. Long black lashes curling onto cherubic cheeks. Rosebud mouth. The absolute picture of peace and innocence and beauty. And when he finally awakens, whether it be from a nap or from a nighttime slumber, he doesn't wake us. He will lay quietly and coo at his mobile or just look around. When we awaken and run to the crib to check on him, he just looks at us with the sweetest of toothless grins, as if to say "Good Morning! I thought you might need some rest and so I let you sleep in." He still only cries when hungry. He won't let you know he has a dirty diaper. Instead, he'll just look at you as if to say, "Hey! You gonna do something about this or what?" Lately he has added a new cry: the cry of boredom, to which we respond with more talking and showing and doing. And it actually works, unlike with his older brother, who was temperamental and fussy and hard to please.

I have never been a religious person. I lean more towards the laws of science. But having Zach has made question what higher power is out there, governing the miracle that is him, adding this gift to my life. And if there truly are angels on Earth, Zachary is most decidedly one of them. It's just that we cannot see his wings.

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