Happy Easter!

3 Months!

Really?  How can that be?

It all started with a tree

Have you ever had one of those days where you go on your annual pilgrimage to a tree farm to cut down a Christmas tree and you end up having a baby?

No?  So it's just me then?

From early on in my pregnancy, I had a feeling Lucas was going to come early.  Except I had him pegged for a between Christmas and New Year's baby, not the one-month-early trouble maker he ended up being.

We packed the kids into the car early on December 8th to make the hour or so drive out to a tree farm we had been going to for the last ten years.  We had two other families coming with us, and everyone was enjoying themselves.

I had been having contractions here and there, but nothing concerning.  Until on the hayride back we hit a rather sizable thump and my uterus decided to pay me back in kind with a rather sizable contraction.

The real fun didn't start until we stopped for lunch on the way home.  Our friend noticed my wincing was coming at pretty regular intervals, so Fred and I decided to start paying attention.

And then we realized that my contractions were every minute and a half to two minutes apart, and were lasting about 30 - 45 seconds.  And we were an hour away from the hospital. 
So off we went, with Fred doing 100 mph on one of the worst highways in north Texas.  At one point I couldn't even talk, the pain was so intense.  A call to the doc confirmed that we needed to get to the hospital ASAP.

I told Fred that under no circumstances was I going to have a baby on the side of a highway, and that was all the incentive he needed to make our 14 year old car go as fast as aero-dynamically possible with a tree strapped to the top of it.

Fred dropped me off at the front of the hospital, and I'm sure I was quite the sight; lumbering and wincing my way to the elevator.  As I got to the front desk of L&D, I tried to communicate the issue and instead burst into tears.

The wonderful nurses got my into a room, one of those love;y backless gowns and hooked up to and IV with some labour-stopping drugs.  When it became apparent that they weren't working, two nurses came in to tell me that the doc would arrive in an hour to do the c-section.

By this time, Fred had just left to fed the kids dinner.  So I told the nurses that today wasn't really a good time for me to have a baby, it being a month early and all that.  It was a nice thought, but let's instead try some more drugs and do a little wait-and-seeing.  The nurses said they understood, and left.  I sat in my bed feeling satisfied that I had made my point.

The nurses came back about 10 minutes later with a third nurse... the charge nurse, who talked some sense into me.  They explained that I was in active labour and there was no going back.  If they waited to long, there could be some danger involved since this was my third c-section.

(The doc had a good laugh about my thinking I had a choice while they were prepping me for surgery)

To make a very long story a wee bit shorter, I called Fred at dinner, who frantically started calling people to help wrangle our kids.  Elise had to stay at the hospital with us because we had nobody who could look after her, but the nurses and a neighbour kept her company and she was pretty happy to be there for the birth.

They rolled me into the operating room and within 20 minutes, Lucas was born.  At 6 pounds, 8 ounces, he was big for a preemie, so the took him to the regular nursery.  I got to see him for about 30 seconds to give him a kiss, then he was whisked away.

Unfortunately, he started having breathing problems, and ended up in the NICU.

At 1:30 in the morning, I realized my son had been born 6 1/2 hours ago, and I had only seen him briefly in the OR.  I asked my very hesitant nurse to take me to the NICU in a wheelchair to see him.  I sat for 30 sweet minutes and held his tiny hand as he lay sleeping in the incubator.

The days that followed were hard.  He was hooked up to tubes, wires and a C-PAP.  I could hold him, but wasn't allowed to nurse him at first.  And when I was given permission, I could only do it once a day because it tired him out so much.

Being discharged without my baby was the worst.  I struggled between needing to be at the hospital, and needing to take care of my kids at home.  I was pumping every three hours so Lucas could eat when I wasn't there.

I realize this post has become very long, and if you're still reading, you must either be related to me, or crazy.  Or both.

But I thought it important to record the details of Lucas birth, as a reminder to me that despite everything that happend (and believe me, there is a lot more to the story, I just didn't want this to turn into a novel), it all turned out okay.

And I received one of my most favourite Christmas gifts, ever.

Flowers die... donate so a child won't

"Mama? Why do you hate flowers?"

This question was posed to me by Elise just the other day. A neighbour had brought by a vase of flowers because she and her family were going away and she didn't want them to go to waste. Elise saw them and proclaimed them to be, "absolutely so gorgeous."

Apparently she noticed my indifference, because she then asked her question. I made some off-handed remark, then distracted her with something bright and shiny.
Because really, how do you explain to a five year old that flowers are stupid because they die, without sounding like the most heartless person ever?  It's just hard for me to spend a lot of money on something that just sits there for a few days, and then... Poof! They go to the great flower bed in the sky.

Give me chocolate any day.

So why the post slamming flowers? Because Thursday is Valentine's Day. And no doubt roses are in your future; either as the giver or recipient. Enter a very cool idea put forth by some very cool peeps in the DOC:

"We want to help the Life for a Child program, sponsored by the International Diabetes Federation, which aims to take “contributions from donors [to] go to established diabetes centers enabling them to provide the ongoing clinical care and diabetes education these children need to stay alive.”  Our idea was to take the typical “dozen roses,” so popular on Valentine’s Day, and save just one rose to spare the life of a child. “Spare a Rose, Save a Child” is simple:  buy one less rose this Valentine’s Day and share the value of that flower with a child with diabetes in the developing world.  Your loved one at home still gets flowers, and you both show some love to someone who needs it."
-Taken from www.sixuntilme.com

For the cost of ONE rose, you could donate to save the life of a child. Even though here in the U.S., I am able to keep my daughter alive with life-saving insulin, in developing countries, type 1 diabetes is a death sentence.

To donate, just click here.  Flowers for Valentine's Day might be nice, but saving the life of a child is even better.

Two Months!

And two days.  What can I say? Life is busy these days.

Mattias-isms

For the longest time, Mattias didn't really talk.  And when he did, he spoke in some weird language only I could understand.  About 50% of the time.  When he turned 2, all of a sudden the words came and he hasn't stopped taking since.  Some of my favourites:

Me (walking into Mattias's room one morning): Good morning, little man!

Mattias: Mama! Co-co (Portuguese for poop)! Co-co Mama!

(Sure enough, there was co-co).

Hear-we-ow-ow-ow-ow - Cereal.  I'm not sure why he adds those extra syllables on the end, but it sure is cute!

I ate my food all! - This is cute because it is a direct translation of I ate all of my food, from Portuguese.  Even cuter is that Elise used to say the exact same thing.

Kip-kip tree - Christmas tree

Hinnerwanna - Cinderella

Baby wucass - Baby Lucas

Que dat? - What's that?  A hybrid of Portuguese and English.

Mama, I'm talking to you - what he says when he's trying to get my attention.

I want to tell you something - Usually he doesn't, he just likes to say it.

Hoo-ha - What he calls his pacifier... in Portuguese the word is pronounced shusha, but he can't say the letter "S".  Hence the hilarious, yet oh-so inappropriate pronunciation.

My silly boy, at the "kip-kip" tree farm

Happy One Month, Lucas!

Have yourself a Merry little Christmas

A little late, but better than not at all.

Merry Christmas from Fred, Joanne, Elise, Mattias and Lucas!

A Very Merry Unbirthday

I've been meaning to post Lucas's birth story. It's pretty amusing. At least I think so. But so far I've been resisting. And yesterday I realized why.

I'm mad.

Yes, in retrospect, I can laugh about the whole adventure the day Lucas was born, but deep down I'm mad about it.

I'm mad that I didn't know it was going to happen.

I'm mad I didn't get to enjoy our last few days of being a family of four.

I hate that we didn't adequately prepare the kids, it's been a tough transition for them.

I hate that stress is an emotion I associate with his birth. Stress and fear.

Being separated from Lucas and unable to hold him was awful.  I didn't get to see him (except for very briefly in the OR) until about 5 hours after he was born. It was 1:00 am, and I made the nurse get me out of bed and wheel me to the NICU. I paid for it pain-wise, but it was worth it. I got to hold his hand and marvel over him for 30 minutes, uninterrupted.

I don't like how unprepared we were. And how that is still spilling over into our lives today. Chaos reigns in our house right now and it makes me itchy.

I wish I had been able to mentally prepare for Lucas's birth. Enjoy those last few days feeling him move. Loving that he was still all mine for the moment.

Today was supposed to be Lucas's birthday, and as we cuddled after an early morning feeding I sat and stared at him. It was very close to the time when he would have been born and it was just me and him, sitting in the dark hours of the morning.

I watched as his tiny lips kept drawing up into a smile. I listened as contented little sighs escaped him. I felt his warmth and breathed in his delightful new baby smell. And I realized he was perfect.

And what's more, his arrival into this world was perfect. After all, it's his story and not mine. And I need to be delighted that he's here without dwelling on what should have been.

So a very Merry Unbirthday to you, Lucas. Here's to many more Unbirthdays to come.

Pregnancy Stuff to Remember - Week 39

Wait... what?

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that this sweet little guy decided to make his appearance a month early.  It's quite a story... stay tuned for it.

Lucas Andre was born December 8, and after a 9 day stay in the NICU, he came home and has been a model baby ever since.

I had forgotten just how sweet baby snuggles could be, and I am so in love with this little brown-haired boy!