Like all mothers whose babies arrive early or with complications that send them to the NICU there is an eyes-wide-open moment when you are faced with how vulnerable we all are. The gift of becoming a mother to a baby born too early is that you will never take even the simplest of moments for granted. My 26-weeker just passed his eye exam at the DMV while applying for a driver’s permit. My heart is full.
Thirty Day Challenges: Take Them or Leave Them
Being a present and available parent for my kids drives my ambitions and choice to live and work on my own terms. December tenth is a special day, a milestone day in my journey with my husband as a parent. It is a day that I hold close. Some day is today. Thirteen years ago my Mom sat by my side in the hospital. We were sitting next to the incubator. Actually it is called an isolate. Incubators are for chickens, not people. This very special bed held my very special son, Eric, at a weight of one pound fourteen ounces. ( He now weighs ninety pounds and would be so embarrassed that I wrote this.) Those who knew us then, know this story well. I went into labor on Labor Day and two days later, after loads of magnesium and other drugs, the doctors couldn’t stop the contractions, I was nine centimeters dilated, and Eric was born at twenty–six weeks and two days gestation instead of the full-term forty weeks. I was teeth-chatteringly frightened. …
My approach to intentional and active living is much like my approach to trialing a new food in the market place or a fueling-approach with an athlete.
Eric, my birthday boy, your story is worth telling and every year, I know the fact that I tell you that your are a miracle gets a little more embarassing for you.
Eleven. My first born son is eleven years old. Everyone says it goes by so fast. That statement always makes me sad and anxious. I want to savor moments, take deep breaths, and hold on so I feel and experience the miracle of this child before me. It is true that time can not slow down; and it is also true that time does not speed up. It is constant. None of that changes the fact that Eric is and eager early bird in just about everything. Mornings he is especially bright, cheery, and early. On the morning of his birthday he was so eager to get to school he asked to walk over early and play on the playground (which I can see from my back window). Little did I know that he would head to his classroom where his teacher told him he can’t arrive an hour before school starts. His early arrival in life is just who he is. It certainly has presented challenges, particularly at his birth when he arrived fourteen …
A funny, and not so fun, thing happens when I take my kids to those dentist appointments where they put the silly-gas mask on their face. When I see them lying there with all these instruments and health professionals my chest gets tight, my heart aches all the way into my mouth, and this horrible sense of dread flashes through my body. In other words, I panic. Today I am here with Noah, my youngest, for a simple but uncomfortable procedure. He is getting sealants on his molars, something I wish my mom had done to protect my teeth. So why the panic? The same experience happened a few years ago when Eric, my older one, went through this. (deep breaths here) I hear him whimpering through the nasal mask, and I see his body squirming. I want to reach for him. I want to tell him I am sorry and that he will thank me later for protecting his beautiful, perfect teeth from the very decay I have to have drilled out and filled …
The smell of fresh baked, oatmeal, chocolate chip cookies wafted through the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) every afternoon at three o’clock. I sat there in the mother’s room expressing milk for my preemie son for the fifth time that day when I first discovered this daily bit of tasty comfort. After completing my milk maid duties, I took great comfort in enjoying two, whole, soft, chewy delicious cookies, and washing it down with a small carton of whole milk that accompanied every cookie delivery. Over our three month stay in the NICU watching our son grow and develop into a full fledged baby, I took comfort in the daily cookies-milk ritual with no regard for nutrition. It wasn’t about nutrition. Well, maybe it was a little about nutrition. I did revel in the fact that generating and expressing as much milk as possible for my little guy was the only thing I could focus on and my body needed hearty, whole, and real nutrients to do that. My afternoon ritual was literally feeding my …
My long-term relationship with running matured to a great place in my first year of forty. Gone are the days of running to burn calories. Instead, running has become my sanctuary, my place to pray, breath, think and find space. It helps me to filter out unnecessary thoughts, worries, and to-do’s. Running helps me find clarity and connect my stories whether they are at home or work. Through running I solve problems, make decisions, and leave behind things that no longer serve me. At forty years-old, running brings simplicity to this complicated life of experiences. I put on my shoes and go. One foot in front of the other. Simple. Some of life’s greatest struggles leave little freedom or desire to run. Such was the case after Eric was born. Eventually running called me back and today I see that running as privilege to be grateful for. Muscling through life’s struggles and challenges should assured me that I had what it takes to run trails spanning mountain ranges. So I set out to experience the Ridge Run …
I have been blogging about” The adventures of Eric and his brother Noah with plenty of Momma’s commentary. And sometimes Dad’s” since 2006. The blog was initially started by my husband as a way to keep friends and family updated on Eric’s developmental milestones after he was born at 26 weeks and 2 day gestation. For those of you who don’t speak “weeks”, that is 3.5 months before his due date. I was only 6.5 months pregnant.As Eric has gotten bigger, stronger, older, and become a big brother to Noah, the blog transitioned to document many of the everyday normal joys and adventures of parenting. Today Eric’s blog feels more like a celebration of entering an unfamiliar, scary, and uncertain world and then, coming out on the other side with more joy and laughter than you could imagine.Please don’t puke at the gushiness of that statement! I am ripping my hair out, spinning in circles, and sometimes screaming (hardly every really) as much as the next normal parent. Parents to preemies, however have another tool …