I love my lil boy cuteness. :-D
This be Nicky's sweater, with my favorite pattern, by Yankee Knitter. (I just use the rolled edges sweater pattern and I use a ribbing instead!) I've used this pattern soooo many times. I love it. Nicky loves it, and the neck is generous enough to go over his totally enormous melon head.
(I'm a sucker for flannel!!!)
The back of the Great Melon Head. I love his ears.
Tony couldn't be bothered.
I cannot believe it, but this kid right here:
...at about 16 oz, is going to be 6 tomorrow. We already gave him presents this weekend, and we're going to have a barbecue/ party at Mimi's this weekend, and THEN we're going to have a little celebration for the four of us when we go out to a camp around the 18th. Gosh I can't wait. I remember holding him for the first time, when he was about a week old- it was my birthday present, because my birthday is exactly 7 days (almost to the minute!) after his. We both almost died- I had eclampsia, he failed to thrive, but he did soooo well; in fact, much better than most boys do. He was in a little plastic box till he came home, at roughly 2 months old; and the hospital was 2 hrs from home, so we stayed at the RMD house in Portland (Maine). Mike drove to work almost every day back here... I don't know how we survived.
I remember the bad: the night at the restaurant where I walked outside and asked Mike why he hadn't just died already, because he'd coded so many times. I didn't mean it the way it sounded but I felt so awful that I never will let that go. I remember when I tried pumping around the clock, but the pump didn't work for me, and my milk ran out. I'd get maybe an ounce a day. Really rough when you see the fridge full of milk from the other moms. Having a premature baby makes a mom feel like a failure sometimes, and when you can't even give him BREASTMILK, sigh... I remember when I had to go to the ER because I was so severely depressed I wanted to die, and a NICU doc and Mike finally talked me into seeing the doc.
I remember a doctor being a bitch, and me putting the bitch right in her place; I remember giving a whiny mom hell because she was all upset her kid had to stay ONE NIGHT and he was fine. I told her what it was like, waiting for 'the call' if you weren't at the hospital when something happened. And I remember 'the call.' "Tony's fine, but he has a very large hole in his heart." Turned out to be an ASD, and it healed on its own in a few years. And the surgery for the hernia, and the blood transfusions, and his pain...
...but you'd never know it now. :o) Being a mom is keeping that pain somewhere inside you, and recalling it, but refusing to live in it...
There was so much good! The weight gains-he came home at 4.5 lbs- and when he could finally digest milk solutions. Knowing that he DID get some breastmilk, and he got more after Nicky was born. Seeing Mike hold him and tear up... and from my hospital bed, watching Mike become a father while he compared notes with the other NICU dad in the hallway. Becoming a member of the Mom Club... you know what I mean, talking to other moms about the kids, and realizing the bond that we'll all have; of creating life, and the dreams we have, and the mama bear instinct we have for ALL children. Cloth diapers, sposies, message boards and those bonds... (especially the Aug Mamas, who will rock on forever)
I will never forget having him. The docs were so shocked by my kidney function (nil!) that they told me that I had 4 mins and they were readying the OR. I got out of bed (against the orders), threw my arms around Mike's neck, and I gave him my last rites... what I wanted for Tony, what I wanted for him... I think Mike was numb. I remember laying there in the OR, shaking, starting to go into another seizure, lots of meds, the docs were calm.
I heard Tony's little cry. Joan of Arc! He was supposed to be blue and not breathing. He was breathing and CRYING! I asked if he was okay; they said that he was surprisingly wonderful! He got better APGAR's than my full term baby! I remember they wheeled his isolette by me, so I could see him from the surgery, with my abdomen still open, and his eyes were HUGE; the blue so deep; the face, I swear, of an angel. Not cliche angel, but a REAL angel. I thought, 'how come you get to live and I have to die without spending my life with you? Please bless dada's life with my love, because that's what you are.'
I pulled through, and for a few days, I was critical but stable. I don't remember much. I remember trying to see him and the Dr telling me that I was on the edge of not making it, and that going to the NICU could end it. I remember ma and Jen coming in briefly, and ma thinking I was a goner. I remember finally getting up and emailing Gena. And the kindness from so many people.
Ahh ok. That's long. Once a year, I have to get that out of my system.