We never think we’ll get here . Sure, I know what it feels like to get up 3 times a night to make sure a hernia isn’t strangulated. Or to cook high calorie formula at 3am because I forgot to wash the dishes on schedule. Or just because I feel like making sure he’s breathing.
Tonight, both my fellas are in bed and I’m wide awake because we are going to visit Drake’s preschool tomorrow and sign up for the 2 year old class.
I spent the day today organizing the crazy amount of things Santa and relatives gifted little guy with. A large box of “baby” toys are packed up ready to go in the attic. More because I can’t bear to part with them yet rather than the “just in case” reason the grandmas are hoping for.
Christmas was wonderful. D smiled for Santa, and opened his gifts and demanded, “OPEN, oooopeenn” for each one so he could play. We kept our gifts small and took suggestions from his EI therapists on what would help him most over the next six months.
Those two ladies in Early Intervention have been the biggest blessing and biggest healer of my psyche. It’s hard to believe I was ever worried about that program. Hearing how we are doing the right things has been balm to both mine and Daddy’s souls.
Tomorrow feels like the start to our new year. This is the year of the potty, and the Magical (yeah, right) catch up year of 2. Twenty two months old. He still refuses to eat on occasion. Spends other days begging for cookies or chocolate milk. It’s actually pretty fun to see the looks on people’s faces when I allow him that sip of coffee he’s begging for.
When your 22 month old is just 20 lbs, he gets anything (a taste at least) that he wants and actually asking for it is like winning the Powerball lottery. It was a beautiful holiday, so different from the quiet season in isolation last year. I feel blessed and thankful beyond words.
One moment in particular was very precious to me. When I was 21 weeks pregnant, my husband and I attended our church’s 5 o’clock children’s Christmas Eve service. It was December 2011. They asked for the youngest child to help with placing the baby Jesus in the creche in the Nativity scene on the altar. It brought so many memories of services as a child, being an acolyte, and my family 800 miles away. I sat through most of the service in tears or filled to bursting with the joy of the thought of my child possibly being the youngest the following December. Instead of the 17-19 weeks I thought I had left, D was born in mid-February about 9 weeks after Christmas. Instead of an Spring baby, I have a Winter one. And Christmas 2012 was spent at home, just the 3 of us.
Christmas 2013, my child finally walked in the procession with me holding him, and put the baby Jesus in the manger to the sounds of O Come All Ye Faithful. It was the first night he said Jesus. It was the first night he sang along matching tone with the piano. Two years of milestones. Two years of fear and joy and wonder and disappointment. Two years of miracles.
Peace to all preemie families out there getting through each day in the NICU, or RSV isolation and beyond. I wish you the joy of the season and hope for your future.
I feel awesome after this week of celebration and rest. I am ready to face the annual follow-ups and IFSP meetings I see on January’s calendar. I’m not feeling quite so ready for the first day of school, but I’m sure we’ll survive and come to enjoy that, too.
Another big Christmas milestone? He actually got to visit AND enjoyed Mall Santa?! 🙂