A letter to you.

Baby girl,
You may learn a lot from me and I hope you do. I hope you find your passion and thrive. I hope you live the life you want and don't let others choose your path. Most of all, I hope you find true happiness. Many people think happiness is money or nice things. For me, it is nothing like that. Happiness has always been simple. I am happy when I'm with your father. I am happy with where we live. I am happy when I cook. Mostly, I am happy when I am with you. No matter what is happening, you make my world better. I hope you find happiness like that. A safe place or person that makes all of your troubles melt away.

If you learn nothing else from me, learn these two things. First, there is a song I always sing to you called "don't you worry child". The lyrics say "don't you worry, don't you worry child. See, heaven's got a plan for you." Its true, baby girl. Follow your dreams and work hard. Heaven has a plan and it is your goal to get there. Don't worry about your struggles along the way. Keep working hard and god will get you where you need to be. He will give you the strength and tools you need. Just don't give up on him or your goals.

Second, god always answers prayers. Sometimes, it is yes. Others, it is no. A few times, it is yes, but wait. Wait.... that is something I'm not very good at. When we wanted you, I prayed so hard. It took awhile and I thought god had said no. Turns out, he just wanted us to wait. So, we did (although it wasn't our choice). We waited and got an amazing little runt. If we didn't have to wait, we wouldn't have you. Sure, we would have a baby, but that baby wouldn't be YOU. We had to wait for the perfect combination of genes. So, he hasn't said no. He hadn't left our sides. He just wanted us to wait for you.

Also, I love you more than anything in this entire world. I know sometimes you will question that, but it is true. I would give my life for your happiness. You are meant to be great. Follow your heart. Go after your dreams. You were made to be strong. You accomplished many struggles even before I held you. You beat many odds. You can do it again and again. Just keep fighting.

First ER visit? That was only the beginning...

24 hours ago, I didn't think I'd be here. Sitting in a hospital room with my little chunk not knowing how long we'd be here.... even 5 days ago, I had no clue her little cough would lead to this. She started with a small cough. Nothing big at all. She would start her fake cough and a real one would follow. The next day, it was worse. We assumed it would be another little cold with nothing to worry about. The day after, she was fussy (which has NEVER happened aside from exhaustion) and couldn't sleep. After a quick call to her doctor, we began her neb treatments again. An hour later, she spiked a fever. Shortly after, she was wheezing. She was VERY lethargic. She couldn't focus. She would stare at thin air. She had refused all food (only having a quarter her normal amount) She was definitely not the baby she should be. We rushed to the ER and she was diagnosed with RSV and bronchitis. After we broke the fever, my baby was mostly back. She was playing and smiling. Still unable to breathe, but back.
The next day she made no progress, but didn't get any worse. Today, we woke up and she was fine. A few hours later, her breathing was unstable at best.  As the day progressed, she couldn't catch her breath, couldn't complete usual tasks without gasping for air, was coughing so hard she'd vomit, and was becoming increasingly unaware. We made it to her doctor where he told us she needed to be admitted. I realise it could be much worse. I mean, it isn't cancer. So, I am thankful it isn't too bad. I'm thankful she is where she needs to be. I'm thankful she is in good hands. Still, I want my kid home. I want her healthy. I want my sweet baby back. I want all of these tubes and monitors off of her. I want my chunk at home curled up with me watching mickey. Compared to some, I'm doing pretty good. I had a little moment after we found out the plan, but I've been okay with the situation ever since. I'm okay that she can't come home right now. Like I said, she is where she needs to be.
Chunk? She could care less. She acts tough, like she isn't sick. She acts like nothing is wrong and life should resume its normal course. She isn't fussy. She is tough. Aside from her arm being wrapped for the IV, none of this bothers her. She smiles, high fives, and bounces away like she is healthy. She keeps me strong. If she let on how sick she really is, I'm sure this would be much harder for me. I'm sure I'd be a mess. However, it still doesn't change the fact that my chunk is sick and not where she belongs. I'm not sure how parents of nicu babies or children with cancer cope. Just the thought of anything worse than this makes me cringe. I know she will be okay. So, its easy to deal with this little hiccup. Though, it does make me realise that what I do pales in comparison to those that have children fighting for life. THAT is why I hate being here. Seeing people that will never leave. Their family visits knowing this will be their last place. They know they will never see home again. I HATE seeing that look. I HATE being surrounded by hopelessness and still trying to cling to the silver-lining. I HATE knowing there is nothing I can do for them. I HATE thinking about how that could be us. I HATE the empty looks of sadness. I HATE being here instead of home. At home, there is fun, love, and hope. I try to bring as much of that to my daughter as I can, but walking to her room is like walking through the river Styx..... I pass the souls of once living beings... they need a back entrance....

Preparation for motherhood

Every woman does it. They think they are ready for being a mom and know what to expect. Most women figure out the hard way that they have no clue. They learn as they go. They deal with the teething, colic, and spit up as they go. They don't think about that when things begin. Everyone told me nothing could prepare me. I would just learn as I went along.
Sitting here with my daughter curled up on my lap, I can honestly say motherhood is EXACTLY what I expected. I was 15 and 18 when my sisters were born. I didn't raise them, but I had a front row seat and babysat them (and still do) whenever I could. I learned things classes can't teach you. I learned what a breach birth ACTUALLY looks like (immensely painful). I learned what to expect during labor by seeing it for myself. I watched my mother go through it twice. It didn't prepare me for my c-section, but it did teach me to trust my doctor. I listened to him and that was all that needed to happen. No class could have helped me make that decision. I learned how to deal with screaming. I learned how to feed babies. I learned that you trust your instincts. I learned all of the little tricks that most second time moms know ahead of time (how to soothe the baby, how to interpret cries, etc.). I learned what type of junk a baby doesn't need. I learned what you DO need for baby. I learned what will most likely sit there unused. I learned what a seizure looks like (and that a child having one can actually walk). I learned how to stay calm enough in a life and death situation to at least give 911 your address (which barely happened the first time and kept me super calm the second time). Since the birth of my daughter (besides c-section related questions), my biggest concern was "how do I get rid of cradle cap". I didn't waste time, energy, or money on things baby didn't need, classes that wouldn't prepare me enough, or worrying about labor.
What I'm saying is that I'm thankful for my wild and crazy family. Because of my family, I didn't have to struggle to learn the ropes as a new mom. I have known 90% of what I am doing since before runt was even born. I'm thankful my sister had her little episodes. Does the thought of it happening to my daughter scare the living daylights out of me? Oh god yes. Do I know how to act and react so that if it should happen, I can handle it the best way possible? Yes. For that, I'm thankful. I'm thankful I know what to expect as time goes by. I'm thankful my mom taught me to trust my gut. Sure, I could listen to her doctor, but according to him (we no longer visit him....no worries) I don't care about my daughter or what happens to her. Mostly, I'm thankful I had my sisters to practice on. Because of that, I am the best mother I can be. I'm not stressed out. I don't worry about every little scratch. I'm not overbearing. My daughter gets to be independent (as independent as a six-month-old can be) and I get to take a shower without her screaming to be held. Because I learned so much ahead of time, its smooth sailing and we get to simply enjoy our time together. I don't have to be stressed about the little scratch she got, the way she sleeps, why she won't stop crying, how to calm her, etc. Because I don't stress about any of that, I get to be happy and calm every second we are together. I am thankful my sisters stressed me out enough that none of this bothers me. I'm pretty sure without all of that practice, I would be a hot mess by now. 

Stay at home mom? Try being a working mom!

I'm so sick of everyone saying "being a stay at home mom is so hard. All I do is work". Yea. Yea...we all get it. Staying home being a mom IS a job. I'm not arguing that one bit. However, don't come to a working mom complaining about how much you do. Sure, you cook, take care of the kids, clean, and generally hold the fort down. I'm not saying in any way shape or form that this is bad. Hell, I would kill to be an at home mom and be with my girl ALL day long. However, the truth is that I am not. I am a working mom. Which means I cook, clean, care for my kid, AND hold down a full time job all while managing not to go insane or get fired. You wanna be a stay at home mom? Good for you. Just stop acting like your life is so much harder than that of a working mom. Again, I'm not saying it is bad to be a full time mom. All I am saying is that from what I have seen throughout my life (even before I had a kid of my own) is that working moms have it harder. I don't want to hear about how crazy your day was. Dealing with my kid is NOTHING compared to the 150 person catering I did. When you have a full time job you (usually) have two days off to relax and rest. Those two days are just that for me. Both days, I have my kid. Both days, she is wild, crazy, getting into stuff, yelling at me for turning around for 2.5 seconds, etc. Yet, it IS in fact easier than what I do for 40 hours out of my week. All stay at home moms talk about not getting a break. And I do? I wake up at 4 a.m. to get ready for work. Drop the runt off at the sitter around 5 and then proceed to work 8+ hours running around like a mass murderer is on the loose. Does it end there? Of course not. I come home, put her down for a nap, clean, wake her up, feed her, occupy her fast growing mind, put her to bed, and eat dinner if I'm lucky. So, no. I don't want to hear about how rough it is to just play with kids all day. Because your job is by far not the hardest one in the world. Take my mom for example. She has 5 kids. She works over 40 hours performing disgusting medical acts (I say disgusting because i have heard some stories) on people and then comes home to an unruly bunch of children. She wasn't an at home mom. Yet, she still drove me to every softball practice, ballet practice, checked my homework, got me where I needed to be, threw parties, made it to school functions, AND chaperoned some field trips. Remember, you CHOSE to stay at home. So, please, for the sanity of all working moms, shut up about how rough you have it.

They always told me this would happen....

People always told me "time flies" once you have a kid. I always thought time flew by anyways, but geez.... they weren't kidding! My little runt will be six months old in a few days. SIX MONTHS! It seems like last week! Then again, it seems like a lifetime ago! I look back and it seems my life without her was empty. It wasn't good enough to remember. I DO remember it, but it feels so long ago. It feels like she has always been in my heart. Then again, it feels like yesterday she was the little giant that could barely hold up her big bobblehead. Now that she is here, it all seems like a dream. Its too good to be true. She is too perfect. There is NO way she could be part of me....could she? She looks like me, she acts like me, she has my curiosity, but she is too perfect to be mine. Now, she is the size of the average one year old in my family and smarter than I could have imagined. Crawling, sitting, talking, signing....although, the laugh eludes us. I'm pretty sure she gets that from me, too. She CAN laugh. She HAS laughed. I mean, full on cracking up, but I'm pretty sure that since she knows we want it she refuses it. Just like momma.
Anyways, to the point. As her half-birthday approaches (damn....that makes me sad), I contemplate a lot of things. Not just about her, but myself. Before I found out I was pregnant, my whole life sucked. Really, it was just as amazing, but I couldn't find joy in anything. I hated my job. I wasn't happy with myself. I wasn't happy with my situation. I cried endlessly over my losses. It was just.... miserable. Now? Now I find joy in the dumbest things. She makes me SO happy, that even when I'm not with her I am happy. I love my job again. I love my life again. She has changed my entire world view. Sure, I still get angry or sad. Although, it doesn't last more than three hours and I don't go more than an hour without being genuinely happy.
I also contemplate my body. I gained a few stretch marks and a few pounds (25 to be exact). Six months later (aside from my scar), the only evidence of her that remains are the stretch marks. I'm okay with that. I weigh 8 pounds less than I did before pregnancy and I still look good in my skinny jeans. The stretch marks? I love them. I see myself in the mirror and am reminded that once upon a time, our two hearts were in one body. They were close together and beating for each other. Mine beat for her and hers beat so mine didn't break. They are proof and reminders of what I went through before her and what I went through to earn them. Some may see them as unsightly, but for me? They are trophies I carry with me every single day. She gave me them as proof she is real. I see it on my skin. I see it in the mirror. I know they are there when I'm miles away from her. She is real. And she came from me.
I often consider things I want her to know, things I want to do with her, things I want her to see. So, for her first birthday I'm making a "just do it" jar. Lots of games, activities, recipes, and fun. All in little slips of paper so she can pick one at the beginning of each week. Then, I make the necessary arrangements and we have a "just do it" day. This way, she can learn all of the skills I want her to know that normally get pushed aside. You know... sewing, crochet, drawing, cooking.... all of it. Then, every year I get to refill the jar and we have a whole new list of fun! I want her to have all of the opportunities I had. My parents always taught me new things, took me to cool fascinating new places, and gave me an awesome childhood. In general, sitting around wasn't an option. Sure, it happened, but I don't remember it. I remember getting lost in Chicago. I remember mixing weird concoctions with my cousin. I remember the fun museums. I remember the aquarium field trip. I remember my mom picking me up from daycare for lunch in her work cafeteria. I remember living life. Those are the memories I want for chunk. Those are the things no child forgets. I hate that she is growing so incredibly fast, but knowing so much fun awaits us makes the blow a little softer. And if she keeps my curiosity, I will never have a dull moment either! Between taking apart radios, digging up things in the back yard, getting countless scars from adventures, I'm sure I kept my parents on their toes. However, I learned a lot and had a great childhood. So, I welcome all of the skinned knees and weird collections!

My little champ :)

Today, my runt showed me a few things. We were sitting on the couch and she was standing up talking to me. Suddenly, she released her grip on my hands. She fell to the couch, but instead of crying she was eager to stand back up. I helped her up and she released her grip again. She continuously fell and got back up. Then, she decided to lunge for her bottle. I caught her midair and she laughed about it. I learned a lot from these two seemingly insignificant moments.
First, I'm SO proud of her. No matter how many times she fell, she got back up and tried it again. She is far from being able to stand on her own, but who am I to say she can't try? She already knows that falling isn't failing. It just means you tried, but not hard enough. She kept on going. Kept fighting. She still hasn't accomplished it, but it isn't going to keep her down.
Second, she took a leap of total faith. She didn't know if she would succeed in getting what she wanted. She didn't know she could fall. She didn't care. She knew what she wanted and she was determined to get it. She took a leap of total faith hoping for the best.
I wish I could be more like that. I wish I could just lunge for my dreams and hope for the best. I hope she never loses either quality. A champion never stops trying no matter how often they fall. They keep going and hope for the best. They continue to fight even in the face of great adversity. So, I will let her fall. I will let her leap. I will always be there to catch her midair so she can laugh. I will always be there for my little champ :)

First words already???

A few days ago (4 months and 1 day) runt said what sounded like "mama" numerous times. Since then, we have been trying to get her to do it again, but she won't do anything if she has your attention. Its only when you are distracted that she calls. So, my husband and I sat in front of her on our phones (with the camera on so we could see her without her knowing) and she said it! At least 5 times! My runt not only signed mama first, but spoke it as well! I'm super excited she said mama first, but I'm even more excited that she is so smart.
My only problem? This kid is growing up too fast! She is over the 100th percentile for her height, 97th percentile for her weight, and bigger than any 6 month old I have met! I both love and hate this. I mean, my kid is awesome! However, I missed out on the little baby. She only stayed that way for 2-3 weeks and now she is constantly on the move or talking. I love all of the things she is learning and I love that she is ahead, but part of me wishes she would slow down!!! Its worth it, but geez....