First World Problem (Moving On)

We are in the process of moving.  What started out as a frivolous, sorta hair-brained idea late this summer actually panned out, and now we are in the midst of the resulting craziness.

We aren't leaving town.  Actually, we are moving into the dead center of it.  We've had a rental there for years, and our renters moved out about a month ago so there was a vacancy.  The house itself is not as nice as the house we live in now, and the neighborhood also is not as nice.  BUT, what it does have is a huge yard.  A huge yard means possibilities.  Possibilities of what, you say?  Possibly a shop for Derrick.  Possibly an art studio for me.  The art studio idea was what started us on this month of insanity.  Darn you Pinterest, and all of your tempting ideas!!!  There was also the reality of looking out our windows and actually not being able to look right into our neighbor's windows (and vice versa).

After pondering the art studio idea for months, the niggling idea popped out of my mouth that we should rent our much loved house that we built ten years ago and move to the place with the big yard.  Surprisingly, Derrick said yes (although he had caveats and didn't exactly jump at the idea.... to be fair, it will save us a fair chunk of change every month...).  I think partially the reason he said yes was the possibilities of renting our house out at this time of year seemed slim.  In reality, it rented in less than a week after putting it up.  The first people who looked at it scooped it up.

The whole "be careful what you wish for" was ringing true for me.  It had been a long time since I'd been to the property I'd talked my husband into moving to.  After the property management called to say our house was rented, we visited the new property.  It was sooo much worse then the last time I had been there.  Oh man.  It was about then that the reality of the situation collided with the dream.  I spent the next two days spiraling in and out of panic attack mode, trying to get out of the whole thing (I'm sure this was a fun time for Derrick.  Nothing like trying to talk your wife back in to her own hair brained idea).  Somehow we ended up NOT getting out of it.  My husband is very much a 'let your yes mean yes' kind of person, and somehow found it distasteful to mess up the plans of the people coming from Washington state who were now dependent on renting our house to make their plans work out. Naw, the truth is he gave me one more chance to really change my mind, and it turns out I too thought it would be pretty rotten to back out at that point.  So onward we went.

I didn't take before pictures of the new house, and I am very much regretting it.  We've worked so hard the last two weeks remaking that disaster into our new home, and I have to say it is looking pretty awesome.  If there is a wall in there, it has been painted.  If there is a scrap of floor in there, it has received new flooring. We channeled all of our feelings of impending doom (well, those were my feelings about the whole thing-  Derrick had his own way of describing the situation) into fixing that place up.  The yard itself will need some serious love come Spring.  We should be finished with the remodel by the end of this week, and then next week we will be here at the little house we built, packing it all up to move out.  We should be completely moved out by next weekend, and then the following week we will be fixing up odds and ends for the new renters moving in.

Change, right?  It's scary, but it's also a new adventure for us.

Den of Sickness

Derrick is super sick again.  This time it is the throwing up, white and shaking like a leaf kind of sick.  Last time it was the sore throat, fever, shaking like a leaf kind of sick (only a week ago).  Derrin ended up with the fever /sore throat today too.  We are the den of sickness around here.

Telling people you are living in the den of sickness does not make them giggle like it does me.  Just fyi (to myself) for future reference.

I'm not afraid of getting sick.

The last time I was super sick was after going to Mexico to visit Derrick's parents, which was almost two years ago.  I ended up with bronchitis and two ear infections, and Kloe ended up with food poisoning.

The special story we like to spring on unsuspecting friends has to do with that flight home from Mexico, when I (bronchitis girl, so sick I could barely sit there) was sitting with Kloe (food poisoning girl, destined to vomit both on the way up (which I was prepared for), and on the way down (which I was NOT prepared for)... (and yes, I realized that that was a parentheses with in a parenthesis..... sometimes you should just expect this blog to be an English nightmare!!)  We ended that flight with both of us covered with... unpleasantness.

We had a lay over in Houston though, so at least we were able to soak our clothes off before then last flight home the next morning.

Anyways, poor Derrick has been sick for way too long.  I'm feeling bad for him... he'd hoped he'd managed to mostly kick it before this last bit started kicking him back.

Whenever he gets this sick, it is very unsettling for me.  I'm too used to him being the strong one around here.  Of course I can rise to the occasion to do everything that needs to be done.... but I very much prefer for him to be feeling good, and taking the lead in our life (I'm sure somewhere inside me, the fifteen year old feminist is screaming at me for that statement).

Poor guy needs to get better, and not just because I need him to.

The Ol' Switcheroo

It is currently March 16th.  Four more days until Spring is officially here.

We have almost officially survived winter in Montana, once again.

It actually has been a very mild winter.  It began looking like Spring more than a month ago, but I didn't believe it was real.  I was fairly certain this was Montana playing a big joke on us, tricking all of our Spring flowers to start growing too early so It could drop it's temperature on their tender baby green growth and kill them all dead.

Spring without Spring flowers, Montana's cruel idea of a joke.

I was so sure that was going to be the outcome that I buried all of my premature baby crocuses and tulips under mounds of old leaves last month. This morning I saw all my baby plants have fought their way out of their unnecessary protective blanket, defiantly showing me they will not stand for this over guarded stance I have taken for them.

So be it.  They are ready now.

Speaking of protective blankets and guarded stances, we have decided to try a different approach to Kloe's Middle School experience.  Starting next Fall, we are going to give home school a try.

Academically, she is doing great in school this year; all A's and B's and nothing but praise from all of her teachers.  She is growing up, and is a very funny kid.  I truly enjoy being around her most of the time.  But I can also see the social pressure pushing in on her, trying to shape and mold some of her attitudes on life.  I just can't stand the idea of her specialness being shaped into this idea of Typical American Teenager.  Can. Not. Stand. It.

I don't know if it's just a difference of temperament between Derrin and Kloe that has allowed him to get through Middle School without the outward manifestation of The Social Pressure Molding.   Maybe Middle School is harder on girls?  Maybe it is easier for me to recognize in my daughter because I had that same thing trying to shape me once upon a time ago.

We have offered Derrin the option of home school next year as well, but he has already enrolled in High School and is pretty excited about his classes.  But the option remains open.

What do we hope to achieve with home school versus public school?

My biggest goal is to provide an environment where she will be able to grow into the best version of herself.

She is naturally drawn to singing, writing, and art.  I'm hoping that by encouraging growth in those areas, it will help her form an idea of self-identity that has nothing to do with trying to fit in and be like everyone else.


I've been doing a lot of self-reflection during this decision.  Am I asking more from my daughter than I ask of myself?  It isn't fair to expect her to do the work of being her best self if I am not also doing the work of being my best self.

Self-discipline is going to be the quality that keeps this thing afloat or sinks it.  The only way I can expect her to have self-discipline is if I also have it in my own life.

Next fall I won't be going back the seasonal job I've worked the last six years.  I'll be home with Kloe, helping with home school.  I'll have a separate goal list for myself.

I've been looking into different online home school programs.  One of the that looks promising combines 7th and 8th grade.

My ideal/dream week of home school would look like this:

• Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday:  Get up at 7, get ready for the day.  Start school by 8.  Do the basic school stuff for about three-four hours. 

Other Ideas:

• Do something physically active, like play basketball (she mentioned that when we first discussed this with her), go on walks, see if she can do some things at my gym with me.
• Enroll her in an art class or have a voice coach once a week.
• Schedule definite times throughout the week to hang out with her friends, and plan on doing some traveling to make that happen.
• Spend more time with family... see if she can hang out with Aunt Renae, and Lyndsay.
• Have an actual mid-week service day that we can spend together.
• Derrick offered to spend more time teaching her how to play golf.
• She can also work in his office throughout the week to make some money.
• We can go on field trips together.
• Things I would love to share with her: Photography, painting, working with stained glass, making jewelery, and anything else we can dream up together.

Who knows how it will work out.  I've heard positive and negative experiences from different ones who have done it.  I'm hoping that by exploring ideas and defining the results we want, as well as acknowledging that we will have challenges, we'll have a better chance of aligning our hopes with what becomes reality.

A Time for Huckleberries

We went huckleberry picking a couple days ago at a top secret,undisclosed place in our area.  I was amazed at how many berries we found!  It's only the middle of July, and all of the little bushes are completely loaded up.  We (well, the kids and I- Derrick is going to be riding motos with friends) are going to go picking again tonight with Shannon.

It was so unbelievably beautiful in that forrest.  I had never been there before, but now I know where some more great hiking trails are.  The whole time we were up there we heard distant thunder rumbling.  Shannon, who has been up there a lot, said it is pretty common to hear thunder there this time of year.   In this case, however, a huge storm system was coming through the area, and toward the end of our time there we started to get rained on and the wind began to make the trees begin to sway all around us.  We high tailed it out of there, with imaginings of trees snapping around our heads. 

In town, some trees did get blown over.  The storm had mostly passed by the time we reached town again, but the sky was so amazing- deep pink, with lit up clouds.  This really has been a beautiful summer.

Sunday Suds

I finally made the laundry soap from the recipe I found here a couple weeks ago.  The soap is super inexpensive (compared with regular laundry soap), and easy to make!!  For anyone interested, these are the things you'll need to gather to make the soap:

*1 bar of soap (any kind you want)
*1 cup of Borax
*1 cup of washing soda
*a big pot ( that holds more than 2 gallons)
*a grater
*a funnel
*a long spoon
*2 empty gallon jugs/containers

These are the three ingrediants.  You grate the bar of soap into

a large pan, add one gallon of water and melt the soap.  Once the soap is

melted, you add one cup of the washing soda and borax each, and

then bring to a boil.  Add one gallon of cool water, and then use a funnel

to pour into your 2 gallon jugs.

Grating the soap.

Soap is super easy to grate- it took less than five minutes.

Beautiful grated lavender soap.

The soap melted in about 10 minutes.

2 Gallons of Homemade Soap:)

One a different topic, I have managed to keep all of my little seedlings alive so far!  I'm wondering if I started them too early, as I'm sure I won't be planting anything outside for at least another seven weeks.  Hopefully, they will hang in there until then, and be big and strong and ready to produce tons of veges when the time comes.

Cucumber plants

Under grow lights- close up of butternut squash and tomato plants.

In the garage, under grow lights.  Everything is going well so far.

Tomato plants in the window.

Jessy, looking reproachfully at me while I make my soap, wanting some outside and playing time.

Fish pond in my kitchen.  Needed to take a pic, because I finally did some maintenance, and it looks nice again:)

Fish pond

Derrick folding laundry.  Because what wife's heart isn't melted a lot by seeing this?  :)

Spinning Onward

In hindsight, this week has been fairly productive.  I've delivered important things to our accountant, balanced QB and observed bills that need to be paid, cleaned the house (mostly), done the laundry (which is never *really* done, but I was counting myself a success in that department yesterday), finally framed the pictures I took of the kids months ago, and also worked on some other projects I've been putting off.  Actually went in service this morning to make up for last Saturday's bout of being ill. 

Despite all of this, I very much feel like I am spinning my wheels. *sigh* The list of things I should be doing is long, and there will never be enough time to do it all.

We are going camping this weekend.  Need to run into town to buy the 'Chef Bayha Approved' list of groceries (he also makes most of the food while there). I'm glad to have a list, or I'd just buy hotdogs for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And some marshmallows.  And anything else that can be roasted over a campfire.  While I might be okay with that kind of camping culture, I am almost positive my fellow campers there would not be.  I want to be with happy campers, so the list is appreciated.

 Hopefully, I will be awesome enough (as in remembering) to buy and pack everything we need today so we can leave first thing in the morning.

Different subject:  Jessie jumped up and bit Kloe's face last night.  Those little puppy teeth are sharp!  There was a small cut on Kloe's face; small, but gaping a little too much for my comfort.  I took her to the ER, thinking stitches, but then decided I was being a bit drama-queenish for such a tiny cut.  We went to the store instead, and I bought butterfly stitch bandaids and liquid bandaid stuff.  Seems to have worked- just looks like a little scratch this afternoon.

Alright... better quit dawdling around here and go gather camping stuff.  Hope y'all have a super dupe weekend!

Kloe (every morning)knocked out
after taking care of Jessie all night.

Ring Derrick gave me two years ago.
Finally figured out how to protect
inserted photos.

"Magic Gloss" bought in Seattle-

used for coating pictures on pendants.

Want to use the "Magic Gloss" more- I think
there are different brands of the same product

in larger sizes for a lower price.




Derrick bought three new Platties.  Store clerk
assured us they are tough as nails.

 

Finally just did my own frames for these pictures.  Never could find anything in the store that felt right.

My girl (with fancy face bandaid), and Ma'Self, striking a pose.

Summertime, Summasummasummatime

It's Sunday afternoon.  Super sunny outside, bEE-U-Tiful at the moment.  But it's hot, so I'm in here typing away on a computer instead.  Sometime mid-winter, I will read the beginning of this post and slap myself pretty hard.

We just got home from our Sunday meeting and lunch at Fiesta En Jalisco.  The kids are playing Mario.  I'm gonna kick 'em outside here in a minute.  As soon as I get off of this computer.  Don't want to be a hypocrite, after all.

Tomorrow is supposed to be pushing 100 degrees.  A bunch of my fellow Moms and I are taking the kiddos to the waterslide park.  It's going to be my first all day excursion in a swimming suit of the summer- must remember to baste the kids and myself with sunscreen.

Derrick took the kids in service yesterday and then to the waterpark.  He's such a good dad.  I was ill with stomach and headache issues.  It required gluing myself to the couch for most of the day.  A day which was also blissfully quiet, thanks to my husband.  I slept most of the day, and now feel better than I did most of last week.  At first I felt like it was a wasted summer day, but now it is a pleasant memory of silence.

I got rid of the trusty Blackberry last Wednesday, and got a plain ol' cell phone with no data package.  I am going through some SERIOUS Internet withdrawals.  It's much more disconcerting to not be hooked up to all of my email and social network accounts than I expected. 
My sis and her family are all gone to Canada for the next couple of weeks.  They go there every summer to work unassigned territories in super remote areas in their ministry.  They took their boat up and are going through difficult to reach islands.  My brain will not let me access the name of the islands at this time, but the pictures I saw were beautiful.  I haven't talked to her since Wednesday- feels weird; we usually talk every day...

Well, better go be productive-er.  Do laundry or some such nonsense. 

Before I go, here is a link to my favorite comedian Maria Bamford.  (Just for fun) 

:)

Home We Are

We left T. Falls last night and came home.  This morning I actually got up and ran.  It has been awhile, actually since the kids got out of school.  I can't take it though; I feel so much better if I make the effort to be consistent.  I will get up early to run from now on.  Yes.  I will.

After running, I did my stint as Derrick's Office Assistant (D.O.A), and that took a good portion of the rest of my day.  I am still having a hard time really digging into my work there.  My two week yonder to T. Falls did not exactly render me accessible to my office work.  I will work in the office more consistently and productively from now on.  Yes.  I will.

I did eventually manage to escape outside to work in my garden.  My strawberries are giNORmous this year.  Big, red, juicy bites of goodness they are.  Relocated my dahlias and lupin... and watered lots. The first part of July has to be one of the most beautiful weeks of the year.  The flowers and plants are at their most lush at this exact moment.

Derrick did such a good job of taking care of my garden and my fish, Kloe's lizards and he even fed Derrin's snake.  Everything was well watered, fed and happy when I got home:)

I made Kung Pow Chicken tonight.  I cut up the chicken with one of the knives Derrick bought about a month ago.  His knives are sharp.  Really sharp.  I know me;  I WILL be visiting the ER with one of my fingers in an ice-filled baggy within the next couple of months. Derrick has researched proper cutting techniques.  He was giving the "hold your hand like a claw" advice tonight.  Meh.  Awkward.  Better just count on the trip to the ER.

He made homemade ice-cream.  He is the favorite among the kids at the moment.  He is my favorite at the moment too.

Lame Blogger

Haven't blogged in way too long. I have no good reason for last week, except I was busy with work and enjoying the first real summer days we've had. This week I don't have internet access, and I've resisted doing the ol' blog from the blackberry up to now.

I literally was able to hang out with some of my very favorite people, either by going to a concert, going on a long walk, going on a guided food tour of a small town, throwing a summer kid party, and by playing a ginormous baseball game. One favorite friend couldn't be with me, or I with her, but we had a nearly three hour phone conversation.

Every week should be like last week.

This week I have been in T.Falls at Steph's. The kids are on their second (and last) week of swimming lessons. We were able to hang out at Renae's yesterday (she's back!), and today I hung out with Heidi and caught up while we watched the kids swim.

Tomorrow we will be in Paradise cemetery, pouring cement and setting Mom's head stone. It's been hard to find a day on the calendar that would work for us to meet up; it'll be good to finally have it up there.

On a different note, I have made an unfortunate hair dye decision. I would have thought that I would be over my "great ideas" when it comes to hair color. Now I know I will someday be that 85 year old woman with crazy orange hair. I guess if I didn't learn from the accidental green hair incident at age 15 (and my resulting nickname "Spruce") I will never learn.

Oh well. It's just blond, bright red and pink highlights... Not the subtle coolness I was going for, but it shouldn't be too hard to fix once I get home.

Auntie Lores n Kids

Kids at lessons

Kicking off Summer Party



Whip Cream Fight



@ Brandi and Ray Concert

Ma' girl and I at concert

He made Level 3!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Preeclampsia and The Very Little Baby

During my 26-week prenatal doctor appointment, I found out I’d developed severe preeclampsia. I had tell-tale protein in my urine, my blood pressure was through the roof, and I’d gained a huge amount of weight freakishly fast. It was an acknowledgment for what I’d known for awhile: something was WRONG.

I was sent home on bed rest but the following Monday my blood pressure was higher than before, so they decided to admit me. I assumed I’d be in the hospital for a couple days; they’d get my blood pressure under control and then I’d go home for the rest of the pregnancy.

I was put on a magnesium drip as soon as I settled into my hospital room. The magnesium made me very relaxed and warm. Everyone else was buzzing around me, scared, but I was A-OK. Derrick showed up, scared, confused and tired. This had been a hard pregnancy from the beginning.

Both of our families were in and out of the room. Between the magnesium drip, the company, and the relief of not working, I was feeling better than I had in months. I wasn’t opposed to the idea of just staying in that room for the next three months if I needed to.

That wasn’t going to happen.

The blood tests the doctor ordered showed that my condition was getting worse. The doctor kept saying something about worrisome “leaky vessels.” I was developing something called HELLP Syndrome, which was causing my liver enzymes to skyrocket. The small capillaries within my kidneys were leaking. The danger of liver failure, seizure and coma were very real.

No one told me what all of this meant because worry was the last thing I needed. Not that I could have been bothered to worry; I was still all rainbows and butterflies on my magnesium drip. Even after my sister told me to prepare myself, I didn’t understand the magnitude of the problems.

~.~

September 28th was a Thursday morning. The doctor came in and announced it was time to have a baby, as continuing the pregnancy would be too dangerous for both myself and my baby. I was only 27 weeks along- three full months too early.

Right before going in to surgery.

They wheeled me into the operating room. Derrick stood up by my head, holding my hand. They wheeled me into the operating room for the c-section. Derrick stood up by my head, holding my hand, while I felt tugging and pulling for only a few minutes. One minute the little baby was inside my belly, the next minute I heard a teeny tiny cry. It sounded like a kitten.

All of the action was then diverted to a different part of the room as the NICU staff went to work saving my baby.

They sewed me up and as they started to wheel me out of the room, they paused briefly so I could look over at the baby laying under the bright lamp on the table. He weighed in at 1 pound and 10 ounces. He was bright red – his skin looked too undeveloped to have color, like it was transparent to the organs underneath. He didn’t look real. The amounts of magnesium in my body made me feel extremely detached, like this was all happening to someone else; this was some other girl and her baby.

They wheeled me back out of the room. I didn’t see him again for another four days. His daddy and grandparents saw him a lot those days (His Auntie Renae tried to slip into the NICU too, but got caught. Only parents and grandparents were allowed in there). He was hooked up to a lot of machinery, and struggling to breathe, but he WAS breathing.

They took me off of the magnesium and eased off the pain medication. By removing my baby from my body, I was out of harm’s way and on the mend. Now it was time to help him heal, too.

When I was finally able to walk from my room to the NICU to see my baby, they led me over to his tiny bed where he laid on a sheepskin blanket, tubes coming in and out of him to help him breathe. His color was better – not as red. He was wearing a diaper the size of a panty liner and it completely engulfed him. I pulled the hat he was wearing gently away from his head to look at his teeny ears. They were completely flat against his head, like they’d not had time to curl up into regular ears yet. He didn’t even have nipples yet. He just wasn’t done cooking.

First Trip to the NICU

After that I was in the NICU constantly watching him or gently laying my fingers on his back. I needed to touch him, but I was warned by the NICU nurse not to stroke him because his undeveloped nervous system couldn’t handle the stimulation. So I just held my hand across his back gently and felt the rise and fall of his lungs gasping for air.

Eventually, we were able to hold him. We’d hold him skin on skin against our chests (it’s called “kangerooing”), careful not to move too much. Even though he was still struggling to breathe, we were told it was more dangerous for him to lay there and not be held – even babies that premature need to feel human connection and love.

We named him Derrin, after my brother whom I’d lost when I was 8. It was the most special name I could have given him.

The day I was discharged was bittersweet – it was nice to get out of the hospital and sleep in my own bed, but it felt horrible to leave Derrin there.

I pumped milk frantically because it was the best nutrition he could have, but the results were seriously pathetic. I worked for HOURS to get minuscule amounts of milk. I’d bring it into the NICU, write our name on the little baggy, and put it in the freezer with the gallons of milk the other moms were producing.

I was put on medication to help me produce more and got in contact with the Le Leche League folks who gave me lots of advice. They set me up with a top of the line, grade-A breast pump but, still, I could only produce thimble-fulls. I kept at it, pumping those thimble fulls, supplementing with formula when necessary. I was sad I couldn’t produce more, but what I gave him made me feel connected to Derrin; a little more like I was his mom. While the nurses did the lion’s share of keeping him alive, I was the only one who could bring thimbles of real mommy milk.

First Bath

There were good days where he’d do really well…and there were other days where his whole chest would almost collapse while trying to breathe. Those days I felt helpless.

The nurses noticed that even though he was the smallest baby there, he was also one of the most stubborn. They’d arrange him just so, his body positioned perfectly to help him breathe, but he wiggled and rearranged himself. That little dash of stubbornness amused and comforted me; it was one more thing to help him pull through this.

He’d open his little eyes when we were there, whenever he heard our voices. His grandparents, daddy and I all read to him whenever we went to visit. We all held him close to our skin and rocked him while holding oxygen to his little face.

Gramma Patsy and Derrin

 For the most part, we had a happy little routine for that first month. He steadily gained weight, his breathing became less of a struggle, and nothing majorly wrong happened. I realized we were very fortunate, as I saw a lot of other babies in the NICU undergo surgeries and have scary things happen. I attended the funeral of one little baby, and we all just held our breath and prayed for the best.

~.~

I had the whole “why did this have to happen to US?” moment when one of my friends who’d been due two months before me came in to have her baby. She had a perfectly happy delivery and brought her baby home right away. It’s not that I bemoaned her happy delivery; it just hit home that what had happened with us was just so far away from the joyous event it could have been.

~.~

I took many pictures of Derrin. Since I couldn’t take him home to show him off I carried pictures everywhere. When he was two months old, I took some pictures and developed them right away. When they came back, I realized his skin looked very yellow. I hadn’t noticed that when I had been in the NICU.

I went back to the hospital, and the neonatal doctor was by his side, checking him out. They’d run blood tests and discovered that he had CMV (cytomegalovirus), which was causing jaundice. He could have contracted it from me during birth or from my breast milk (aw, sweet irony). CMV is very dangerous for preemies, potentially causing neurological and developmental problems, deafness and blindness. It was also very contagious, so he was moved out of the NICU and up to the third floor where he had his very own NICU nurse with him at all times.

The move actually made it a lot easier for me for be able to stay with him. I had stayed several times in spare rooms they kept for NICU moms, but now I could actually sleep in the same room with him.

His jaundice was under control fairly quickly, and he just kept trucking along. I quit trying to pump around that time, which was emotionally hard; my milk production had never really kicked in. Pumping isn’t that effective at spurring prolactin production which helps the milk to flow, and my poor little baby was still too undeveloped to have a suck reflex.

Auntie Nae and Grampa Billy

He had to gain more weight and learn to drink from a bottle. He got most of his formula from a little tube that went up his nose and down into his tummy until we found that if we held him just so and had a plastic bottle, we could squeeze streams of formula into his mouth and coax him to swallow. We did that for a week and HE PUT ON WEIGHT! We were thrilled!

Finally, they gave us the go-ahead to bring him home. It was December 28th – his original due date – exactly three months after he’d been born. It was also one of the happiest days of my life.

Feeding Tube

Unhappy about the Car Seat
But GOING HOME!!!

Bringing him home was also very scary. He’d had TEAMS of people keeping him alive for the last three months, and now they were just going to send him home with US? What were they thinking? But we did it!! His daddy and I took turns, waking up every three hours to feed him the thick, extra-calorie formula. Our poor little guy would throw it back up more often than not, and we’d start all over again. Derrick and I were walking zombies for quite awhile.

I had to take him to neurological testing and also eye and ear testing for the next two years because of the CMV virus and prematurity, but he quickly caught up to other babies born the same month as him and he always tested very high on the tests. He is one smart boy.

Now he is ten. NOW when I think about everything that could have happened my heart stops. You would never even guess that he was a micro-preemie by looking at him. He  is SO good with other people- serious social skills. I am always in awe when I watch him with other people. He genuinely just loves them. We have a theory that it's because he was exposed to so many people right from birth. He’s the healthiest person in our family; he loves to read, he’s in advanced math, and with some encouragement, he gets great grades.

He is the kind of kid who will wake up early and make his mommy the perfect cup of coffee just to be sweet. I am so BLESSED to have Derrin in my life.

I was able to stay home with both Derrin and his little sister when she was born.  All of those worries that we couldn't make it financially if I wasn't working just weren't true for us.  We figured out a way to make it possible, and even though being a stay-at-home mom of two small children was the hardest job I ever had, those years I was able to do it are some of the happiest of my life. 

                                                ~.~

My Baby Boy- Age 10

I think about the dream that Derrick and I had in the beginning, and of course we'd still love to travel the world some day, but the life we have with our kids is so much better than any dream we ever could have imagined.   Of course we've had our ups and some pretty hard downs, but I wouldn't trade it.

~.~

I know not all moms and their preemies are as fortunate, but I like tell Derrin’s story to new moms who are going through this scary situation because in our worst moments, it helped to hear positive outcomes of those who had been through it before me.

When we first had Derrin, one of the NICU nurses told us that someday this would all seem like a dream from a long time ago.

She was right.