The Birth Story: The Sequel

Nothing about this pregnancy would have part of anyone's birth plan.  It was not the birth story that any expectant mother dreams or hopes for, in fact, it was perfect in its imperfection.  But as imperfect as it was, the result was beyond anything I could have wished for.  This is the story of how William Malcolm came into the world.

It's impossible to begin this birth story without backtracking a bit to the pregnancy story.  I remember the night we found out we were having another baby.  It was a Monday night, August 27 and Trevor was giving Jack a bath.  I took a pregnancy test into our downstairs bathroom and faster than you can say "I should have chugged down one more glass of wine" 2 pink lines appeared on that stick.  I took the test upstairs to the bathroom where Jack was rolling around in the tub splashing Trevor in the face.  "Hey guess what?" I said.  "We're having a baby."  Trevor, his glasses covered in water droplets, broke out into a huge grin.  "Jack!  You're going to be a big brother!"

Three weeks later I was in the emergency room with what I thought was a pulled muscle which ended up being 3 blood clots in the deep veins of my right calf.  So began a 9 month journey that would test every fiber of my being as I made it my mission to get this baby into the world as healthy and whole as I could.

And now, the birth story.

Birth Story (n): The tale of how a pregnant woman gets a baby out from under her ribs into the waiting hands of a doctor who has gotten way too familiar with her insides without even buying her dinner first.

Tonight I taught Jack how to give Eskimo kisses on our last night as a trio. Hearing him laugh and say "more noses" was everything. Tomorrow we head to the hospital to meet this little boy. It's the ending of winter and the beginning of spring and also the changing of seasons for our little family. Prayers and good thoughts are most welcome!

Hey Mark Zuckerberg!  Were you aware that waxing poetic on your website can send a woman into labor?  Well it can!

A few minutes before 9pm on Tuesday April 30th, I sent that note out into Facebook in anticipation of the induction I was scheduled for at 5pm the following day.  For some reason, Jack didn't want to go to bed that night so Trevor, Jack and I cuddled on our bed watching a movie before he finally relented and let Trevor take him upstairs.  Looking back, I feel that he just knew something monumental was about to happen.  Jack has had a 6th sense about this pregnancy for weeks now and I think he knew somehow that we all needed one more night with just the 3 of us before everything changed.

No sooner had I hit "enter" on that status that a whopper of a contraction hit me.  A few minutes later my brother called me to say hi and wish me well and during the entire conversation?  Contractions.  Hmmm.

After another came on strong I asked Trevor to pull up a contraction timer app on his phone (modern parenting for the win).  5 minutes, 4 minutes, 6 minutes, 5 minutes.  They just weren't stopping.  You know things were getting serious when I put my bra on.  Awful contractions are no excuse for going to the hospital full native.  My mom was called.  In the words of Rafiki in "The Lion King": "It is time!"  In the meantime, our wonderful friend and next door neighbor Angie was called to come wait for my mom so someone could be with Jack.

See, all the logistics change when it's your second child.  You can't just drive willy nilly into the night to go to the hospital.  Baby monitor ranges don't extend that far.  If they did, we'd have saved a lot of money on babysitting costs.

Trevor called the after hours number for my OB practice.  Dr. Goodspeed was on call.  Oh good.  A doctor who I had met once during my entire pregnancy...again!  The same thing happened with Jack's delivery.  I had moved to this new practice to work with the midwives, so I'd never have to have a strange man gaze inside my lady parts again, but midway through my pregnancy, the practice decided to abandon the OB side and all the midwives left for other practices.  So I was left with a doctor again, but to be honest, it could have been Dr. Seuss, Dr. Pepper or Dr. Teeth on call that night and I wouldn't have cared, I was just so ready to meet my son.

Dr. Goodspeed advised Trevor to have me wait an hour and see what happened.

"NO.  We're going now." I said with a vice grip hold on our kitchen counter.

Trevor dutifully relayed the message.  This is not his first time at the rodeo.  Trevor knows that once labor starts I become a honey badger.  Dr. Goodspeed gave us the green light to come to the hospital.  I like to think that he glanced at a chart at that moment that said:  "Nancy, age 34.  Don't trifle with this broad, she doesn't mess around."  A quick hug to Angie and we set off into the night toward the hospital.

Husbands/partners/drivers, there is no winning on that drive.  If you drive too fast, you will hit every bump and pothole and be yelled at.  If you drive too slow you will be encouraged to pick. it. up!  Also, you will hit every single red light.  It's the Murphy's Law of Labor.

Trevor pulled into the drive to let me out at the door so he could park the car.  I told him I'd wait for him in the lobby.  But as soon as I got to the lobby I just made a beeline for the elevator.  There were people milling around the lobby and I didn't want to star in my own one woman interpretive dance show on deep breathing.  I asked the woman at the front desk to send my husband up to the 4th floor when he arrived.  "He's wearing a red shirt...no, a brown shirt...nevermind, he has glasses."  She nodded at the delirious woman, something she must be very skilled at doing in her line of work.

Triage.  The worst.

A nurse met me at triage and handed me a hospital gown with 900 snap buttons and 350 ties before leaving me staring at this huge piece of cloth blinking.  I sort of draped it around me like a toga.  I must have looked like Little Caesar after ingesting a few of his $5 Hot 'n Readies after a long night of drinking.  A different nurse came back and said "Oh, we should have prepped that gown for you."  So I was not headed into labor looking like a Roman emperor.  By now Trevor  had found us and the nurse asked me to go pee in a cup.  Peeing in a cup while contracting is like being asked to crochet a quilt while jumping on a trampoline.  I might have gotten a single cc of pee in that cup.  I trust that they got what they needed from that droplet since they didn't bug me about it again.  Next up?  A cervical exam!

Are you someone who enjoys when people push on a bruise?  Do you take pleasure in soaking your paper cuts in a bath of salty lemon water?  Then you will love having a cervical exam while in labor.  "5cm!" she exclaimed in voice not entirely unlike the Target lady that Kristen Wiig plays on Saturday Night Live.  So by now it was clear that the train had left the station and wasn't slowing down.  Neither was my heartbeat.  And then, the big question.  "What is your plan for pain management?"

It's no secret to anyone who has asked that I did not have an epidural with Jack.  I am not anti-epidural, but during that entire pregnancy, I had such faith in my body, things were so easy.  Not this time.  The pain was excruciating and everything was happening so fast.  My blood pressure was on the rise.  I started to cry and looked at Trevor.  I told him I wanted some pain relief.  I wanted something about this pregnancy to not hurt so badly.  After more than 500 injections and 20 weeks of crippling nausea, I wanted to end this pregnancy with some sense of calm.  As much as I was dreading being induced, the thought that things would be controlled was comforting to me.  I don't regret that decision at all as I was afforded some calm and Trevor and I were able to rest for awhile before the main event.

At my hospital, the nurses ask you about 1,000 questions while you're in active labor.  Everything from "Are you opposed to having the birth announcement in the local paper?" to "Are we tying your tubes today?" Not only do they ask you these questions, they have you sign documents in the height of your delirium.  Could these documents possibly hold up in a court of law?  I don't even remember half of what I was signing.  I'm certain my signature looked something like this:

After 4 hours in the hospital, at 2:45 in the morning, the pushing began.  Exactly 20 minutes later I met my son.  May 1st at 3:05 in the morning- the very first May baby born in the hospital.  I don't know if I could ever adequately describe in words what it's like to meet your child for the first time.  This little stranger suddenly becomes the most familiar person in the entire room to you.  A long lost friend who has found you again.  That's just what it's like.  His cries were loud and strong.  They placed his warm body on my chest as I looked into his eyes for the first time.  Deep dark eyes crying out the last vestiges of some exciting past life.  We stared at each other as my tears mixed with his.  "We made it, little one.  Happy birthday sweet boy, we made it."  I held him closely, this little miracle who had laid alongside me in the trenches of this complicated pregnancy.  We made it.

Trevor cut the cord.  It splashed in his face.  In his face.  I thought I'd share that detail to add some levity to what has quickly become a very emotional tale.  Being my birth coach is a full contact sport.  It's safe to say I wouldn't have been in this state without him, but it's a guarantee that I couldn't have gotten through any of it without him either.  People ask me if I ever wrote a birth plan.  I haven't, but I can tell you if I did it would have two things written down- Keep an open mind and have Trevor alongside me the whole time.

"I think he's a William," said Trevor the proud father.  "Yeah," I agreed.  "Happy birthday William Malcolm."  He is named for two very important people in our lives.  William Shakespeare, the man who brought his parents together and Captain Malcolm Reynolds, the beloved hero of Trevor's favorite TV show.  A wish for him to live his life with passion and adventure, to be observant of the world around him while maintaining a healthy skepticism and sense of humor.  A strong name for a strong little man who will surely be able to hold his own with his big brother, who, I am happy to say, is completely in love with him.

Will was born on the most beautiful day of the entire year.  We brought him home on a Friday afternoon.  I sat in the front seat with the window down breathing in the warm spring air.  In the short time we'd been away, our lilac bush had come into full bloom right outside of our bedroom window.  Nearly two weeks later, we continue to gaze at our lilacs while we nurse and nap and bond.  Winter is officially over and spring is here.  A new season, a new baby, new life, so much hope.

We just celebrated our first Mother's Day together surrounded by family.  I ended the day on my bed, one son tucked under my arm and the other curled up on my chest.  How did this happen? How am I suddenly a mother of 2?  Who will these little boys grow up to be?  My sister wrote this to my mom for Mother's Day, "Our souls choose our parents."  I am so thankful these little souls chose me.

And that, my friends, is my birth story- the sequel.  The story of how the most imperfect journey can still lead you to exactly where you need to be.  They say that sequels never quite live up to the original.  This sequel certainly had more spectacle and adventure, but I like to think that my two birth stories are the Godfather and Godfather II of birth stories, each one wonderful in their own right.  If we decide to have a 3rd baby, I will change this metaphor to Indiana Jones.  No one deserves a Godfather III birth story.  No one.

Dear Jack

My Sweet Jack,

In just a few days you're going to be a brother.  I know you won't remember life before he comes, but I want you to know that these 2 years and 4 months of our little trio has brought me so much joy.  I remember feeling the same nervous excitement in the days leading up to your birth.  How will I know what to do?  How will things change between your dad and me?

Somehow, your dad and I figured out how to be parents.  You taught us.  And things did change between your dad and me.  We grew to love each other so much more because you forever made us a family.  All of a sudden there was this little person in the world that had my eyes and your dad's lips.  Your face was the merging of the two of us.  To this day, when I look at you, I see the best of everything we are.

One of our first family photos

Thank you for showing us how to be parents.  For showing us how to slow down and see how wondrous this world is.  We have loved seeing the world again through your eyes.  I remember when you discovered Lake Michigan for the first time.  It was a sunny summer morning in August in Grand Haven.  The wind was whipping so hard through your hair and you laughed from the deepest part of your soul as all five of your senses magically burst into life.  Cold water rushed up to your calves as you clutched dad's hand.  I remember looking out into the vast lake.  I saw the whitecaps cut against the steely gray water.  I saw seagulls magically take flight against the wind.  I took all of that in and I laughed too.  I laughed from the deepest part of my soul too and together our whole family laughed, all thanks to you.

So here we are on the verge of a brave new world for our family.  Your brother has outgrown his hiding place and he's ready to meet you.  And it is our turn to teach you.  You are the oldest child of two oldest children and if there is one thing that we know how to do, it's how to be older siblings.  It's not always easy having a sibling, but if there is one thing I can promise you, it's that you will be one of the most important people in his life.

You refused to smile for this picture.  Your dad had to hold the sign  in one hand and an Avengers Golden Book in the other and that's what you're looking at smiling. We know the way to your heart.

The next few days will be strange and sometimes scary for all of us, just like the days before you were born.  But this little family can go through anything together.  My wish for you is to remember that day on Lake Michigan.  You holding dad's hand against those strong gusts of wind.  It was a brand new exhilarating experience and as new and scary as it was for you, you found the joy in it.  You will find the joy in this new experience and every single one that follows.  That's the kind of incredible person you are. 

We love you so much Jack.  Thank you for being such a sweet, curious, exuberant little boy.  On the day you were born, the #1 song on the radio was "Firework". That is exactly what you are.  

Brighter than the moon.  

That's my Jack.

Love,

Mama

One More Week

Unless little guy has other plans, in one week I will be checking into the hospital to bring this new life into the world.  Yes, that means they are inducing me and I have some mixed feelings about it.  I think every woman hopes that her pregnancy goes off without a hitch and that things progress as naturally as possible.  Nothing about this pregnancy has been smooth sailing, but seeing it come to an end brings so many emotions.  The reason for the induction has to do with the timing of the medication I'm on and not wanting it in my system at the time that I deliver.  Both a doctor and a midwife who I trust at my practice believe it to be the best course of action and promised to be gentle with me.  My body has carried us this far and I trust it to see the baby and me through to the end which is now very close.

So I've been thinking a lot about birth today and all of the changes it will bring to our family.  I wonder how Jack will take the new addition.  But today, God gave me a wink.  Two separate friends on Facebook who don't know each other posted photos of their young sons with captions about how much they love each other.  Those photos, literally taken across the world from each other, have made me so happy thinking about the great gift we're about to give Jack.  Message received. 

A few years ago, I read a book called "Orbiting the Giant Hairball".  The author opens the book with the following passage that has always, always stuck with me.  There are, and have been, so many forces keeping me and this baby safe for 9 months.  I take all of that positive energy with me into the delivery room next week or maybe sooner if this little guy decides he's ready to be born.

Enjoy the story that follows and remember that birth isn't an event that only happens upon our first breath, every day we have the potential to reinvent who we are.

And it's never, ever too late to do something with that canvas.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Before you were born, God came to you and said:

Hi there! I just dropped by to wish you luck, and to assure you that you and I will be meeting again soon. Before you know it.

You’re heading out on an adventure that will be filled with fascinating experiences. You’ll start out as a tiny speck floating in an infinite dark ocean. Quite saturated with nutrients. So you won't have to go looking for food or a job or anything like that. All you’ll have to do is float in the darkness. And grow incredibly. And change miraculously.

You’ll sprout arms and legs. And hands and feet. And fingers and toes.

As if from nothing your head will take form. Your nose, your mouth, your ears will emerge.

As you continue to grow bigger and bigger, you will become aware that this dark, oceanic environment of yours – which when you were tiny, seemed so vast is now actually cramped and confining. That will lead you to the unavoidable conclusion that you’re going to have to move to a bigger place.

After much groping about in the dark, you will find an exit. The mouth of a tunnel.

“Too small,” you’ll decide. “Couldn’t possibly squeeze through there.”

But there will be no other apparent way out. So with primal spunk, you will take on your first “impossible” challenge and enter the tunnel.

In doing so, you will be embarking on a brutal no-turning back, physically exhausting, claustrophobic passage that will introduce you to pain and fear and hard physical labor. It will seem to take forever, but the mysterious undulations of the tunnel itself will help squirm you through and finally, after what will seem like interminable striving, you will break through to a blinding light.

Giant hands will pull you gently but firmly, into an enormous room. There will be several huge people, called adults, huddling around you, as if to greet you. If it is an old-fashioned place, one of these humongous people may hold you upside down by the legs and give you a swat on the backside to get you going.

All of this will be what the big people on the other side call being born. For you, it will be only the first of your new life’s many exploits.

God continues:

I was wondering, while you’re over there on the other side, would you do me a favor?

“Sure!” you chirp.

Would you take this artist’s canvas with you and paint a masterpiece for me? I’d really appreciate that.

And remember:

If you go to your grave
without painting
your masterpiece,
it will not
get painted.
No one else
can paint it.

Only you.

~Gordon MacKenzie

A New Season

Something happens in Michigan during the middle of March.  Winter starts to integrate itself with spring.  You may be scraping ice and snow off of your windshield on Monday and driving with your windows down on Tuesday.  If March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, then the middle of March in Michigan is a liolamb- a chameleon that changes frequently, sometimes snowy white and sometimes robin egg blue.

My due date is in the spring.  As long as we were battling freezing temperatures and lake effect snow warnings, it always felt like I had miles to go before I met my son.  But now that we're in the middle of March, spring is starting to reveal itself and I know he's coming sooner than I've allowed myself to believe.  As I type this, birds are chirping outside of my window as if to say, "He's coming!"

There are so many thoughts swirling around inside of my head during this new season.  In the last few weeks leading up to Jack's birth I remember feeling a similar sense of anxiety wondering how things in our little family would change.  It's a much different feeling going from 2 to 3 than from 3 to 4.  Of course, there is a great deal more fanfare for your first child than for your second: showers, baby books, fears about labor, anxiety over breastfeeding, fears of all of the unknowns.  My unknowns now revolve around helping Jack with the transition while Trevor and I go through the transition ourselves.

A season is coming to an end and not just the one that melts the snow and causes buds to grow on branches and in soil.  A season for our little family is coming to an end.  Jon Acuff is a smart and polished author who wrote the book "Quitter".  I was able to see him speak at a leadership conference earlier this year and he spoke about life's seasons.  Your 20s-60s can be represented in the following ways:

20s: learning & experimenting
30s: editing
40s: mastering
50s: harvesting
60s: guiding

I see parenting in much the same way, although the cycles will repeat at various stages in life.  When Jack turns 13, I see us sliding all the way back down to learning & experimenting again just when we thought we had it all figured out!  But for now, we are moving from a place of learning & experimenting to a place of editing with Jack.  We are learning more about him and refining our approach to strategies that seem to suit him.  

There is a notion that 2nd children tend to be a bit crazier than their older siblings and I have seen that play out in many families, my own included (sorry Rosie, but you were nuts).  It makes sense though, doesn't it?  Parents are now caught up in 2 cycles- learning and experimenting with their second child and editing with their first.  I can see how easy it would be to jump to editing with a second child, just hoping that the same strategies will work, the same toys will be enjoyable and the same foods delicious.  Unfortunately, it just doesn't always work out that way and it would stand to reason that any kid who was being forced into a mold of their older sibling would fight against that.  If you were my sister Rosie you'd fight against that by insisting on wearing scuffed up white patent leather shoes with every outfit you owned, dressy or not.  Dammit, I love my sister so much!

My mom says that when my sister was born (she came 3 years after me), she did everything in her power to be her own person.  If I went left, she'd go right.  She is blonde, I am brunette.  She was the opposite of me in so many ways.  She wouldn't allow our parents to edit her in the same way they were editing their style with me.  So they had to learn and experiment all over again.  

I don't know who this little guy is growing inside of me, twisting and squirming constantly.  I hope that I can resist the urge to make him a Jack 2.0.  I hope that we can move through one season with Jack while starting a new season with his brother.  It all sounds so complicated and I understand now why 2nd children may be a little louder as they fight for their own unique place in the family.

And then there's Jack who has enjoyed 2 years of undivided attention from both of his parents.  Love multiplies, but attention is divided as a family expands. Trevor and I are both oldest children and we empathize with where Jack will be in a couple of months.  I famously refused to look at or speak to my mom when my dad brought me to visit her in the hospital upon the birth of my sister.  And yet, as much as we treasure the 2 years we learned how to be parents from Jack and he learned how to be a kid from Trevor and me, I know that he will have no recollection or memory of this time.  His entire existence as he knows it will include his brother just as my entire existence as I know it includes my sister.

People tell me that, like Jack, I won't remember much from this season either which is why I'm so grateful for this blog.  Jack taught me what it means to be a mom.  Such a huge responsibility for such a little guy.  In a few weeks, he will have someone to help him.  Jack was my 101 instructor.  He taught me the basic language of motherhood.  His brother will be my Masters level professor helping me edit and refine those rudimentary skills.  He will add to the complexity and chaos.  He will add to the love.

The wistfulness that accompanies the ending of one season washes over me now as I think of moving from a family of 3 to 4.  This is a period of so much reflection on where I was and who I was during this season of motherhood accompanied by excitement about what lies ahead.  In this new season, we get to teach Jack how to be an older sibling, something both Trevor and I have been nearly all of our lives.  We will teach him that no matter how old they get, his brother will turn to him for advice and there will even come a day when he can look to his kid brother for advice too.  Jack will see pictures of himself alone with his parents and think "wow, those were the good old days", but secretly he will be grateful for the gift of his brother even when he doesn't want to admit it.

And to my little spring chicken who is getting ready to hatch~

Be patient with us as we grow this little family.  You are wanted and special and so loved.  Your dad and I don't have older siblings, but you know who does?  Aunt Rosie, Uncle Tom, Uncle John, Uncle Frank, Aunt Mary and Uncle Cris.  And believe us, they will have no problem or hesitation listening to you and understanding  your unique place in our family.  But there is something you need to know and someday if you stumble across this, you will know that we only had one expectation for you, even before you were born:

You will always be expected to be only one thing in this life- yourself.  

Also, don't tell anyone, but we don't have all the answers.  Not yet at least.  By the time you're 15 we will know everything though.

Alpha, Beta & Gamma.  This photo is a 100% accurate reflection of our personalities.
(and if you think the 2nd kid has it rough, check out the shiner on #3!)

So Small You Just Might Miss It

There are moments in life that are so incredible, so special, and so momentous that you just might miss them.  Not all of life's greatest moments come with fireworks; sometimes they come with a whisper and if you're not paying attention you just might miss them.

Two of our very best friends welcomed their first child into the world on Monday.  Little Charlie has joined a large extended family of "aunts" and "uncles" who will adore him and teach him how to be a first class geek, artist, and friend.  We went to visit the new little family late in the afternoon on Tuesday.  It was a blustery day, wind and snow whipping all around, but in the glow of that little hospital room all I felt was warm.  The room was only a couple of doors down from where I spent my first couple of nights with Jack and Trevor.  The view of the snowy parking ramp outside brought back memories of a snowy, blustery day two years ago.

"Go see Aunt Nancy", my amazing friend, the new mama, said as she handed over a little bundle of strawberry blonde hair and deep blue eyes to me.  My heart burst into a thousand happy pieces at this first introduction to my new nephew.  Holding a newborn baby is quite possibly one of the greatest joys any of us can experience.   Any problem you faced that day, any obstacle or hurdle instantly vanishes when you touch that brand new skin.  Somehow all of that hope and promise that a new baby brings is transferred to you and for a few brief moments you feel like anything is possible.

Trevor took his turn with Charlie and remarked to me today how he noticed that he automatically fell into the baby sway with him, gently rocking him to and fro setting into a pose long abandoned in favor of lugging a toddler around on his hip.  It's been a long time since I saw Trevor sway with a baby and once again I was taken back to our own room, two years ago and seeing the guy who was once merely my crush cradle our child for the first time.  

On the way home we talked about our own baby who continues to grow inside of me.  How easy it is to forget that babies start out so small when your world becomes occupied by a 33 lb. ball of energy and noise.  That ball of crazy-happy-fun-times started out as a 5 lb 14 oz peanut (a nickname he retains to this day).  I wonder now as I type this if I allowed myself to enjoy those fleeting weeks of his babyhood to their fullest extent.  I like to think I did and although I have a thousand pictures of those days, it's just so easy to forget new baby smell and silky skin until you're pleasantly reminded of it when holding a newborn again.  

After the hospital, we picked up Jack from daycare.  I rang the doorbell and when he saw me through the glass door his face burst into a Cheshire Cat grin and he took off in a full sprint toward me.  By the time I got in he had jumped up into my arms, his arms and legs wrapped around me like a Velcro monkey.  We kissed and hugged and my heart burst all over again.  Picking up Jack and having our little family reunited again each night is the best part of every day.

Later that night, the 3 of us climbed up the stairs for Jack's bedtime ritual.  Trevor laid on the futon buried in books, I awkwardly laid down next to him, my growing belly making it awkward to do most things these days.  Instead of laying down next to us, Jack climbed up on me and as I propped myself up with throw pillows, Jack lied down across my belly.  I held him there twisting his damp post-bath hair in my fingers while Trevor read us stories.  His head rested on my chest so I know he could hear the thumping of my heart.  All of a sudden, Jack's brother starting squirming and kicking.  Unbeknownst to Jack his brother was kicking right there underneath him, both of them listening to my heart, both of them occupying a very large portion of it.  A year from now they'll both be listening to their dad's bedtime stories laying side by side, which is exactly what they did last night for the very first time.

The world is filled with so many tiny moments of pure joy that I fear sometimes I'm missing them.  Brand new strawberry blonde hair, the sight of your husband holding the beloved firstborn son of his best friend, the look of a new dad- exhausted but overcome with admiration and love for his wife and their new baby, the sound of Spider-Man sneakers running across a hardwood floor toward your waiting arms, and the feel of your two children holding space together even when neither is aware of the other's presence.  

So many small and sacred moments can make up a day.  I am so grateful that on February 19, 2013, I was able to hold them all and be present for them.  Somehow all of these whispers exploded like fireworks on my heart.

Love in All Its Many Forms

I went back to re-read a blog I posted last year on Valentine's Day.  I was instantly taken back to that pharmacy waiting room where I held Jack on my lap waiting for his prescription to be filled, grateful for this blog because I might not have ever remembered that moment were it not for it being documented here.  As a funny side note, last year Jack celebrated Valentine's Day by sporting pink eyes.  This year he nearly celebrated Valentine's Day by having to take pink amoxicillin due to a little bout of scarlet fever.  This child is nothing if he's not festive.

Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday.  I want my children to love Valentine's Day although I know it's a long shot.  I am in the minority of people who love and treasure this day.  My hope is that both of my children find love in all aspects of their lives- a loving partner, faithful friends, adoring children someday.  So in honor of love in all its many forms and the love Jack has for watching movies with his mom and dad, I thought I would present here:

The Top 5 Most Loving Movie Couples

5.  Wall-E & EVE- A tribute to my sweet little Jack.  Wall-E is currently one of  his favorite movies.  When EVE shuts down Jack looks at the screen and says "Uh-oh Wall-E".  Somehow he knows that the loss of a love like that is reason to feel sad.  And my little guy smiles ecstatically when they are reunited.  When Wall-E and EVE go sailing across the sky behind a stream of fire extinguisher spray I feel as if I'm sailing with them buzzing with the glow of new found love.

4.  Andy & Red- The Shawshank Redemption is one of the most beloved movies of all time.  Interestingly enough, it lost the Best Picture Oscar in 1995 to Forrest Gump.  If this movie came out this year I think it would shut out the competition.  Times have changed in the past 18 years and things are a bit rougher than they were in the mid-90s.  People need hope and they long for the type of friendship that Andy and Red share.  What this movie couple shows me is that the greatest friendships are the ones that keep your hope alive- hope in the world, hope in humanity, hope in yourself.  These are the friendships (minus the jail time) that I hope for my boys.  I find I'm so excited that I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man at a start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope. 

3.  Luke Skywalker & Yoda- This entry is clearly in honor of my darling geek husband and while I'm sure he'd have put Han and Leia on this list, I have to give props to Luke and Yoda even if theirs is a very non-traditional love story.  You see, both Trevor and I are teachers.  He works in a public school and I work in a corporate setting, but both of us take great pride in what we do.  Teachers are often called heroes and so much of what a teacher does is heroic.  But we are all the heroes of our own lives, our own stories.  What if the teacher wasn't the hero?  What if the student was the hero, the Luke Skywalker and the teacher was the Yoda, the guide who provides a tool or a way to remove an obstacle in order for the hero to achieve success?  Luke: "I do not believe it."  Yoda: "That is why you fail."  Yoda sticks by Luke in the face of Luke's most adamant resistance in the same way teachers walk back into the classroom every single day in an act of love.  Not necessarily for love of their students, but love of their communities and the promise that these students hold to shape them.

2.  Carl & Ellie Frederick- Yes, another Pixar couple, but as Pixar makes up a large portion of my world these days, I have grown excessively fond of these characters.  And it's true what they say- Pixar made a better love story in the first 15 minutes of Up than Twilight did in 5 full movies.  What Carl and Ellie teach me is that life will throw us obstacles that will break our hearts in pieces.  We can let life break us or we can find a new adventure. Carl learns this all over again after the loss of his wife plummets his world into a pretty dark place.  It's through the love of Russell, a little Wilderness Explorer that he finds his way again.  When he pins the Ellie badge on Russell's Wilderness Explorer sash I am helpless to hold back the tears.

1.  Dumbo & Mama Jumbo- Mama Jumbo in her pink bonnet and blue shawl is the picture of maternal kindness and serenity.  But when those boys bully her baby she is willing to take down an entire circus crew, ropes, whips and all to protect her boy.  There is something so real and honest about that scene that speaks to the heart of every mother who knows that she won't always be there to protect her babies which only heightens her need to protect them while she can.  And Dumbo speaks to every mother who sees her child as perfect despite flaws that only the rest of the world can see.  When I sing "Baby Mine" to Jack at night, I notice that with each passing day it's harder to cradle him in my arms.  His growing limbs dangle off the rocking chair and yet somehow we still manage to fit together.  I marvel at the fact that he was once small enough to fit snugly inside of me, in the same place his brother now occupies.  Time keeps moving forward, his limbs will keep growing longer and his desire to be rocked to sleep will someday wane.  So I enjoy these moments while I have them.

When Valentine's Day comes each year, resist the urge to hate it, resent it, loathe it, or dismiss it.  Because if we really look for it, love is all around us, in many forms, in many places, in many people and it's worth celebrating.

Life in the Test Lab

Most major companies who employ a Research and Development team also employ a team of Test Lab Engineers whose job it is to push the products to their limits to test their strength and endurance.  This helps establish product longevity and warranties.  Life with a 2 year old is like being a product in a test lab and Jack is the engineer testing all of our strength and endurance.

Most days life is as idyllic and sweet as this picture would have you believe.

But sometimes he is a mad scientist testing every fiber of our being.

Energy explodes from him like a rocket and if you're in the path of a rocket, you have no choice but to move aside or be blasted into space.  So we do what any parent of a 2 year old can do.  We love that kid like crazy and we show him every day what it looks like to be loving and kind to people while making sure he knows that flying fists of fury have no place in a civilized society.  He doesn't quite get that yet, but I can always tell that he is sad when he feels he's disappointed us.

A few nights ago after a rough day at daycare when our little rocket exploded over everyone in his path we sat him on the couch in between us with a huge pile of books and we read to him and stroked his hair.  He wanted to watch a movie- Cars to be exact- and we said no.  Not because the voice of Larry the Cable Guy sends me into a rage, although it really kinda does.  We said no because eventually, over time, he'll need to learn that actions have consequences.  And in whatever small way we can, we're showing him that.  He stomped and threw things on the floor crying out "Cars!  McQueen!"  

And so began our night in the test lab.  But after a few moments of frustration, he climbed on the couch next to us, smooshed in between us buried in books.  We read to him and kissed him, ate dinner all together, gave him a bath, read more books upstairs at bedtime together and I sang the "Choo Choo" song to him.  It was a most pleasant and calm evening.

So of course my working mother guilt tells me that I should be spending more time with him and like all other working moms I know I do my very best every day.  And I also know that whether I stayed home with him every day or kept him in daycare, he'd still be 2, he'd still be a little rocket.  And no matter what he does, I could not love him any more than I do.

There is this wonderful moment that happens at the most unexpected times when Jack comes up to me, climbs up on my lap and hugs me ferociously.  And in the test lab of our lives, I see him as the little engineer who is building his parents, testing their strength and endurance and ultimately pleased with how we're turning out. 

In that hug, I imagine that this is what he's thinking:

I test you every day and you do not break.
You never give up on me no matter how hard I push you.
Thank you for hanging in there with me.
Thank you for not giving up on me.
You are my best creation.