New Year's Eve

Writing a blog with a baby in the house is impossible.  That is my excuse for the dearth of posts lately.  Norah is growing up so fast.  At her two month check up, she weighed 8lbs 12oz and was 20 3/4 inches long.  That is more than double her birth weight!  It's crazy.  I look at her and ask, "Where did my little baby go?"  She is holding her head up so well and on the day of her two month birthday she rolled from her belly to her back.  I was shocked.  We were at my in laws for Christmas that day and I was just speechless and kept trying to explain to them that this was the first time, the very first time she had ever done that.  Of course, I realize it was probably just that she was so mad I put her on her belly for a round of "Angry Baby" (calling it "Tummy Time" it too cutesy for me and since she gets so mad we call it "Angry Baby".  Norah always wins).

I wanted to post today, the last day of 2012, just to reflect on what a crazy year it has been.  Those of you will autumn born babies can relate.  Jay and I started off this year with a few drinks at home, just the two of us.  We were just us still, just a married couple.  We are ending this year with a daughter here and a daughter in Heaven.  Our girls didn't even exist last New Year's Eve.  Their souls had not yet been formed by the Creator.  In the span of one year, we found the most profound grief and the most brilliant joy imaginable.

I miss my daughter.  It's just the truth.  I miss Aislynn terribly.  I ask Jesus everyday to tell her that her mommy loves her and misses her and to give her a kiss for me.

I adore Norah and being her mom.  It is so daunting to realize that I'm the mom now.  I'm the one who has to kiss boo-boos and shoo away monsters and rub away tummy aches and fix tears with giggles.  Hopefully, I can be to her what my mom has been to me.  I always knew that my mom could fix it.  Even in my very difficult teenage years and into college, even when I didn't act like it, part of me still believed Mom could fix it, Mom could help.  Even after I got married, if something was wrong, part of me still wanted to go home so Mom could tell me it would be okay.  I call her now to blather on about Norah and being tired and it always helps, always fixes it, to hear her tell me that I'm doing fine.  That she went through this same thing and my siblings and I were always fine.  (Now, now.  Don't be mean.  My being nuts is not my mother's doing.  At least, mostly not her doing.)

Jay and I have started going to the Vine Church in Carbondale.  I really like it there.  It is relaxed and lacks so many of those "what you do at church" things that makes me pull back from organized religion.  The people there are really nice, too.  I am rediscovering this side of myself.  I'm going to be honest here and admit that I shied away from the church stuff because, honestly, it all sounded lame.  The phrases, the "things you say cause you go to church", all made me roll my eyes.  It probably stems to how much we all see of others just playing church.  We all know the type.  I never wanted to be that disingenuous person.  So now I'm striving not to.  I'm striving to let go of my preconceived notions and just be.  I know this is going to get a lot of reactions from readers of this blog and all of them will be positive and meant to be uplifting, but please, just let it be what it is.  Like I said I'm still struggling with the gut reaction to hide this stuff because I don't like to talk about it.  Sharing it is a big step, right?  So please don't shock my system by flooding me with encouragement.  I know that's totally screwed up that I want the encouragement toned down, but I'm a little messed up.  We really like going to church there though.  There have only been a scant handful of times that I can say I felt "moved" and that seems to happen regularly there.

Of course the events of the past year have changed me.  Probably made me more open to God than ever before.  I have been praised for my faith in God through what Jay and I have been through, but to be honest, I probably didn't deserve the praise.  My reaching out to God and having faith was a little reactionary.  What else could we do?  What other reaction could we have had to this horror that we faced in losing our precious baby girl than to turn to the Creator of the cosmos and believe that He would care for her?  If I couldn't believe that Aislynn was healthy and happy and playing in Heaven and our goodbye was just goodbye for now, I would not have survived this.  I don't know why He had to have Aislynn so soon, why she had to take the "short path".  But it is not mine to know why.  It is not mine to know His plan.  It is mine to obey and believe and have faith.  I will have joy that my baby girl got to worship at the feet of the King this Christmas.  I will have peace and pride that she has seen the face of her God.  She has touched the hem of Jesus's robe, she has laughed in his arms, she has heard and sang with the angels.

I miss her but the God I worship knows that too.  So He can play and laugh with her there, and cry with me here.  He knows she is happy because He has seen her but He also knows that we miss her so much here.  My God shed tears for my pain with me while reminding me to be joyful because with faith, I will see her again.  The dichotomy of the God we worship is awe-inspiring.  We worship the creator of everything.  The all mighty, great, I Am.  The King.  The God who can snap his fingers and make galaxies.  He sits on The Throne.  But you know what, He also sits on my couch with me at night when I hold Norah and cry because her smile looks like Aislynn's would have looked like.  He also stands with me when I'm so tired at night because Norah's acid reflux makes it hard for her to sleep so we have to walk to calm her down.  When we need to be reminded of His awesome power to feel safe, then He is the all mighty King, ruler of all, Lord of Lords, Great I Am.  When we need the tender comfort of the Savior, He is the one holding our hand or carrying us in His arms, whispering words of comfort and peace.  This amazing dual role that God plays for us is something that I have only understood since going to this church.  I underestimated the role of church in faith.

So that's what's in my head as this year ends.  I will celebrate the New Year with a glad heart.  It might not be at midnight because, God willing, my child will sleep a bit more tonight, but I will celebrate it certainly not long after midnight.  Happy New Year everyone.

Home

Life since the birth of our girls has been kind of wild.  And I know, I know you all are nodding and saying, "Well, yeah," but it has been a crazy ride that neither of us expected.

As you all know, Norah was in the NICU after she was born.  But not for as long as anyone thought.  They told us that most preemie babies go home just before their actual due date.  Our girls were born at 32 weeks gestation.  We told the NICU nurses that we were hoping to have her home around Thanksgiving and they told us that was a very reasonable goal, not rushing her or expecting too much.  This child was home in exactly two weeks.  Two weeks!  Crazy.  We knew she was doing very well but everyone, even the NICU nurses and her doctor, was surprised how well she did so quickly.  Most preemie babies have a hard time with the Baby Hat Trick which is to suck (to eat), swallow and breathe at the same time.  Norah did not.  Not ever.  Her first time with a bottle she took like a third of her feeding, which according to the nurses, is insanely good.  In just days she was taking every other feeding by bottle (versus her feeding tube) and then every feeding.  I will admit, I got a little teary when we bottle fed her for the first time.  Not just because it was exciting, which it was.  It was because she was growing up.  I know most normal babies eat their food without a feeding tube but my baby didn't and when she did, it was her getting bigger and growing.  

We brought her home exactly two weeks after they were born.  And, I gotta be honest, we were not ready.  Not like the whole "you're never really ready" thing but like really not ready.  Her room wasn't ready.  We didn't have any clothes or diapers for her.  The only baby stuff we had was what we got for the baby shower just days before they were born.  So while the news was good, our reaction didn't really show that.  We had to look like deer in headlights.  But what are ya gonna do?  You make a trip to Wal-Mart and buy what you think you have to have and find out later just what you needed.  As it turns out, we didn't do too badly on that.  

About breastfeeding....I tried.  When she was born and since she was in the NICU, a lactation nurse brought me a breast pump and I pumped.  And it worked.  Worked well, in fact.  I was able to pump so much that she didn't need any formula in the hospital.  I pumped in the hospital and took it to the NICU and I pumped at home and at first we took it to the hospital when we went to see her but eventually they told me they had plenty and then what I pumped at home went in the deep freeze.  A couple days before we brought her home they let me try to nurse her and she did really well.  I struggled but she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.  After she was home I started to integrate nursing into our feeding schedule but since she was still so little I was supposed to nurse and then offer her her "expressed" breast milk and then record how much she takes in addition to nursing.  This is kind of an exhausting schedule and I just didn't feel like I could really regulate how much she was getting.  I needed to know that she was eating enough and trying to breast feed her just stressed me out.  In case anyone doesn't know, I'm a bit busty (yes, understatement) and I was having a rough time with this experience.  So I decided I would just pump and then bottle feed her.  

And then my milk volume started to decline.  We still had quite a bit in the freezer so I thought I had time to try to work on that.  But there was no fixing it and eventually I had to start giving her some formula along with the breast milk.  I thought that would work.  But the amount I was pumping went down so fast that she was getting mostly formula.  The act of pumping and getting no milk was starting to be damaging to me emotionally.  It was like having the failure shoved in my face every three hours.  This failure that I couldn't provide for my child.  And that along with every thing else we were facing was too much.  I took my mom's advice from what she went through and finally just had to move on.  I had to accept that pumping just wasn't for us this time and move on.  Formula may not be "so natural" and "liquid gold" and "made best for baby" but it still makes healthy kids.  My siblings and I all had formula after Mom breast fed us as long as she could and I think we turned out just fine.  

She does have acid reflux which is so hard to watch her deal with but I know it's common.  I hate to see her have to work so hard to keep her food down.  She is so tough and does such a good job, but I still hate that she has to be tough.  I hate that she spits up and that sometimes it comes out her nose.  I hate that she looks so uncomfortable sometimes and coughs and gags and grunts cause her belly is upset.  I think that it may be extra tough for us because of Aislynn.  Not to be a downer, but we saw her die.  We held her little body.  We know what it is to hold our child after she was gone. And that kind makes like aftershocks when Norah is not completely fine.  

Grief is odd.  I thought I had worked through more of the grief in preparing to lose her.  There really is no preparing for that.  Yes, we knew so we were over the shock part of losing her but the rest of it, nope.  And yes, having Norah is amazing and it is so, so wonderful that she is so healthy but I miss Aislynn just as much as I rejoice that Norah is so healthy.  I miss my baby.  Mourning Aislynn will take time and my love for Norah may soften some of the edges of the grief but that absolutely does not mean that I will "get over it" faster.  

There is a quote from an unlikely source that fits exactly how I feel:  "The way I see it life is a pile of good things and a pile of bad things.  The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant."