Who's To Blame After Suspect Escapes From Hospital? - Cincinnati News Story - WLWT Cincinnati

Who's To Blame After Suspect Escapes From Hospital? - Cincinnati News Story - WLWT Cincinnati

So now we are corrections officers? Police officers? Seriously?

Zach Gets Mad

Zachary was playing with his overhead gym last night when I noticed he would get frustated and fussy every so often. He has been working on reaching for things, and apparentlywhen he lacks the developed coordination to get what he wants, he gets angry. (Please, please, please excuse John's "Awwww shit!" comment in the middle of the video!)

Evan and the Wedding

So our niece got married. Incidentally, I used to refer to her only as John's niece, but sometime over the past decade of our marriage, the "John's" became "Our". She was 11 years old when we brought Ev home from the hospital. And I remember on our wedding day, her mom (John's big sis) telling her that she now had to listen to me as well.)

So she got married. She picked Evan and her other cousin Ev's age to be ushers. I questioned the wisdom of this. Sure enough, after I was seated, I was trying to juggle between keeping Zach quiet and watching Evan perform his duties. When I no longer saw him seating the guests, I thought to myself, "Uh-huh, I knew it was too big a job for him!" But before I knew it, the processional of the wedding party had started, and there was my son, with a different tie on, walking down the aisle. And he looked so beautiful and grown up. He did so well. It turns out that the ring bearer fell ill right before the wedding, and Evan got yanked from his role of usher and thrust into the role of stand-in without the benefit of the rehearsal the night before. (Incidentally, this is why his tie is a tad too short in the photo--it wasn't intended for him!) I was so proud. But a small part of me had a flash-forward of the day my son will find a life partner and tie the knot. And with that in mind, the bawling commenced.

I should also mention that I definitely need practice with my new camera. I tried to snap pictures of the wedding party in real time, especially of my baby boy standing at the alter, but had a slight problem. A digital female voice kept talking to me: "Saving to memory card" every time the shutter was pressed. And I was starting to get dirty looks. All while I was trying to balance Zach in one arm and quiet my digital friend with the other. So while I have pictures, they are blurred from both movement and having the camera in the wrong mode. Bummer.

Grandparents

We left Madisonville, Kentucky on Sunday afternoon. I am usually eager to return home after a trip like that. I am just, by nature, a city person. This time I cried when we left.

I never had the chance to know any of my grandparents. They all passed away before I was born. And so I looked forward to the day my mother would meet my children, but then she passed away before I could even think about the idea of having kids. Dad soon followed. But John's parents are still here. My boys get to know them.

So Sunday afternoon, John's mom held and rocked Zach while John packed the car. I brought the carseat over to her to put Zach in. He had fallen fast asleep in her arms, which was pretty much where he spent the whole 4 days we were down there, anyway. She seemed sad to have to put him in his carseat, and held him up for her husband to kiss on the top of his little head. It seemed so....final. We were leaving Evan down there to spend a couple of weeks, but Zach had to come home. He is just too young. I honestly felt like I was taking him away from her.

So I held it in. But once we started to pull away from her house, to back out of the driveway, I started to sob. John's mother and I have certainly had our differences over the past decade, but she has always been a shining example of what I always envisioned a grandparent to be. Is our staying so far away going to prevent her from being close to Zach like she has been close to Evan?

We were going to leave her house to go to John's dad's house to drop off clothes for Evan. He will be down there for a little while, alternating between staying with John's dad, John's mom's and stepfather's, and John's sister's. He gets to have a blast with all of them. I am so appreciative and value that more than anyone can know. But as we are pulling away,and the tears were flowing, here comes John's dad on one of his motorcycles. And Evan is on the back. After I got over the first thought of "OH MY GOD MY BABY IS ON A MOTORCYCLE!!!!!", I realized how cute he was there with his grandpa, and that I could trust John's dad to keep Ev safe, even to his own detriment. And so I snapped a picture. It could not have captured the moment better (other than me being able to actually work my new camera and the picture being clearer). There is my cute, sweet Evan having a ball with his grandpa while John and I drive away, with John's mom's house in the rearview mirror.

Smiles For Daddy

"Andrea, HURRY! Bring the camera!"

I know this means Zach is doing something cute that I want to capture. And he is. Curled up on Daddy's chest, tucked under his blanket, he is cooing and smiling at John. And he is so sweet that I could eat him up. So I made it in time to capture their "conversation".

Have Baby, Will Travel

Look, spit-up happens. As does leaking diapers. And just about any other clothes-soiling incident when you have a little baby.

This is just one of the thoughts racing through my mind as I try to pack our family up for a weekend at John's mom's house. What are the others?

The baby needs a safe place to sleep.

How many diapers will we need?

What if the house is too cool at night? Or too hot?

What about feeding? How much milk will need to store? How much supplementation will Zach need?

Zach will need something to do while awake.

The list goes on and on. So I am packing hot pajamas and cool pajamas, an entire can of formula, a whole large pack of diapers and a full container of wipes. Approximately 3 outfits per day. The pack'n'play. The overhead gym. Bottles and water and formula. Breastpump and storage supplies. My oatmeal and flaxseed and herbal tea and fenugreek and Reglan. The Boppy.

And this is all just for Zach. I just may need to rent a van!

A Woman's Work

If this grosses you out, I apologize.

This is what I have been working toward all along.

To give Zachary a piece of myself each and every day, multiple times a day. To do what is best for him. And it has been harder than I could've imagined.

I've learned about galactogogues, and have consumed them in large quantities. I've had the herbal teas, and I don't like tea--not even sweetened iced tea. I am now eating a bowl of oatmeal daily, even though the texture gags me. I am taking a medication that could damage my nervous system, though it most likely will not. I have had many nights where I have set my alarm clock to wake me every hour so I could pump. I have cried when those efforts only produced as little as a half a ounce at one point. I have felt the thrill of the first night I left for work with 12 ounces of pumped milk in the refrigerator, enough to meet my baby's needs while I was away, even though it took 2 days of incessant pumping to produce that. I have felt joy that I was able to pump 2 ounces at a time, total, then felt the deep disappointment when I realized even this was inadequate.

But this? This is 4 ounces of pumped breastmilk. From one side. My production is sort of lopsided, so I only got 7 ounces total. But this? This is victory. This is my work for the past 2 months of my life. I am proud of myself for sticking with it when it would have been easier to give up.

The happiness, the relief, the joy, the heartbreak, the dedication, the perseverance, the resolve....Who could've know it could all fit in 4 fluid ounces?