9.28.11 aka Over My Head

I love this baby boy so much.

I miss my other baby boy so much.

I stare into Owen's face, look at his lips and his nose, and marvel.  And then I see Otis.  It's so bittersweet, the resemblance of these brothers.  One here with us, one not.

I am encountering a ton of anxiety and a lot of panic these days.  Anything "new" causes me to seize up in fear that it will be the thing that takes Owen from my life.  Every person (and there have only been a few) who has come over to "help" with the new baby has ended up feeling like they're coming down with a cold and can't stay, except my mom, who is a little oblivious in her caregiving and causes me more panic.

The other day I was panicking about his jaundice numbers and that he seemed lethargic and didn't want to feed (all the warning signs they told me to watch for) and I started to cry and my mom was pooh-poohing my worry and said, "You're just panicking because this is your first baby..."

And I stopped.

"No, actually, I'm panicking because this is my SECOND baby."

9.24.11

Thanks so much for your words of congratulations.

What a whirlwind, eh?  I want to sit back and take the time to write his birth story but "taking the time" seems a long ways off when tonight is the first chance I even had to OPEN my laptop!  Basically, though, I had been having cramps all week, I really thought they were BH or "practice" contractions, E finally made me call the advice nurse on Sunday night, they told me to come in just to be safe and get checked on the monitors, turns out I was dilated to 4 cm, rapidly progressing, having regular strong contractions every two minutes...They gave me the option to try for a vaginal delivery, but everyone agreed for my sanity that a c-section was still the best choice...but I had dinner in my belly that needed to digest...so we waited as long as we could, which was about until 4:40 am when I was checked, at a 6, and my water broke...so they started prepping me for surgery.

Babyboy was born at 6:12 am, and wailed his way into the world - shortly followed by mama and papa sobbing their eyes out...a truly incredible moment - I still can't quite digest it all.

After three and a half days in the hosptial, rooming in with babyboy the entire time, we are home from the hospital. Baby passed the hospital "poop test" (and how!), my milk has come in, he's a hearty eater, I'm still working on the whole, "He'll still be alive if I go to sleep and wake up in a bit," piece of things.  I don't ever want to close my eyes, I don't want to miss a moment with this little guy.  (Cue Aerosmith?) We're battling a little bit of jaundice (super common with a preterm baby) and in the grand scheme of things, I feel so fortunate that at least so far, that's been our biggest medical concern.

I fluctuate wildly between being over the moon ecstatic and so happy, so so so so so happy...and then being overwrought with sadness that Otis isn't here with us, that I didn't get to look into Otis's eyes, that I didn't get even a fraction of this amount of time with him...that this guy will never know his big brother except through our words and stories...Maybe fluctuate isn't even the right word - I feel actually like I am holding both emotions most of the time - this goes down as yet another lesson in the "joy and grief are not opposites, they can coexist at the exact same time in equal strengths" lesson.

Finally - his name - we decided upon Owen Kekoa N___.  Kekoa is hawaiian, it means "the courageous one."  It honors his hawaiian "roots" and our healing time in Maui in January.  (The joke has been "he'd have to be a courageous one to join this family...")  The name Owen came to us as a total surprise.  Our two dogs are both O names, and of course Otis - and the party line throughout this pregnancy was always "We are retiring the O tradition with Otis." I didn't want to be "that family" with names all in the same letter.  Then we met this guy, and I fell even more in love, and all of a sudden it felt horribly WRONG for him not to be one of my Os.  And I've always loved loved loved the name Owen but E was always averse to it when I had suggested it...and then out of the blue on Wednesday, he asked me how I felt about the name Owen.  We're still settling into it, I think it still feels strange to call him a name, to really acknowledge that he's here with us, he came home with us, he's here, he's here, he's here.

Testing 123

Quick update

Sorry for choppy language and editing. I'm going on minimal sleep rightnow!!
e are doing pretty well...waiting for Babyboy (names still TBD) to poop - he's feeding well, his stomach isn't distended, but he should've had some meconium pass by now. He'll see the pediatrician in a bit. if he does poop, and passes his preemie car seat screen (to make sure his oxygen levels don't drop if he's in the seat for 60 min plus) then we may be going home tonight. There's a nurses one day walkout here tomorrow so our nurse has warned us It might be a crappy day to be here if we don't have to be. We qualify for home health visits so we'll have a nurse come to our house on probably Friday and Monday to make sure he's still doing well.

I'm so ridiculously in love with him. He's got Otis's lips and nose but is blonder and obviously tinier.

I can't quite figure out how to post a pic but am going to try to do it remotely in a sec.

He's Here!!!!

This feisty fellow decided he was ready to join us last night.

I'm madly in love.

His screams were the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard.

6 lbs 15 oz. 20 in. C-sec without complications after a crazy lightning fast labor while they waited for my dinner to digest pre-surgery. No name yet.

I still can't quite believe it.

Recombobulating

Those midwesterners have a great sense of humor.  This is the area just past the security checkpoint at either Madison or Milwaukee airport, where you put your shoes, jewelry, belts back on, where you replace your laptop into its case, yadda yadda yadda.  

I feel like I'm in a bit of a recombobulation area myself right now, so pardon the jumbledness of this post.  In the midst of all the anniversari-ness, I also started showing some signs of preterm labor.  For an hour or two there on Sunday night, I was in a complete panic that this new baby boy was planning to arrive on Otis's birthday.  He didn't, thank goodness, and I'm still trudging along at 35 weeks today.  My c-section is scheduled for one month from today.  It remains to be seen if we'll make it that far.  The baby's quite healthy, as far as every NST and perinatologist can tell, it's just that he may be a little eager to join us.  I see my perinatologist tomorrow and may have more answers then.  What's that they say about the best laid plans...

So, yes, the last few days have been intense, and that's an understatement.  I am still recombobulating.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

We marked Otis's first birthday, and the one year anniversary of holding him as his heart took its last beats.  We cried, we laughed.  We spoke much of how perfect he was, how gorgeous he was, how much joy he continues to bring to us...and we raged with our fists to the sky at the terrible injustice that he's not here with us anymore.  We relaxed, we floated in a gorgeous pool overlooking the most picturesque rolling hills, we counted our blessings, we wished on stars and held hands and stared googly-eyed at one another over fancy meals.  I awoke to a nightmare - the kind that leaves your hair standing on end and your heart racing - more than once.  

I read your notes, your emails, your calls, your texts.  I saw photos with my boy's name on them.  You made donations in his name.  You talked of him, you talked of us, you held us with love and kindness.  I felt every bit of light you shone in our direction.

We toasted to you, to the pillars of support that have held us up this year.  We toasted to him, our beautiful baby boy, here in every way except the way we most expected and wanted.

And we are surviving.

I want to share these words, written by my dear friend Lucy on Otis's birthday card.  I can't think of any better way to say it.

Dearest Otis,

On your first birthday, I celebrate the love you have brought into the world, the wonderful parents Sarah and Erik have become, and the way you have opened up so many hearts.

Thank you for being part of the good stuff, of the light, of the things that make humanity worth joining in with.  You are deeply loved and deeply missed and that can never change.

love peace and light to you, most beautiful and precious baby boy and to your family too.

Love

Love to all my friends today...

Of course extra love to Leslie, remembering Cullen on the anniversary of his birth.   Leslie was the first mama I connected with after losing Otis, and if it weren't for her, I can honestly say I don't know that I would've survived the year.

We are off to the woods to remember our boy, back on Tuesday.  I may be online, am not sure.

Thank you for all your love and prayers, for saying his name, for lighting candles, for thinking of us, for abiding, and holding us through this year.

Special love to Ceil for sending me this photo this morning.