Our Pumpkin

I can't believe where the time has gone. Last year about now we were getting ready to leave for Italy, the year before that I was in the darkest part of my life. Now I look at my son and just can not believe it. I am full of wonder every day, every moment there is a joy that I never thought I would know. I am lucky. I am so very lucky. Last September I wrote about a seagull that flew with me while I rowed, this September I was showing B the orange light on the bird's tummy. He loves birds. He loves the outdoors. He is more than I could have dreamed for. And every day I am thankful.

This morning I had an MRI done. I have pain since the birth that has not gone away. They had ruled most things out. Today it was time to rule out a metastatic cancer. I have been worried about what I would learn this morning. Would it be possible to have my dreams fulfilled only to have them shatter around me. I can't imagine not being with B.

The news was good. It showed no cancer, but pelvic fractures, probably from the 3 day labor. It's rare. It may heal. The pain may go away. I don't care. I just don't care. I am so happy I am healthy. Life is so fragile. What a delicate balance. Some how today I was lucky again. I can't wait to get home, hold him in my arms and count those lucky stars one by one.

I wish I had more time to write. I wish I were recording all these fleeting moments with him. I am taking lots of pictures, and the rest of the time I am drinking it all in.

My dark cloud has lifted. I have been basking in the sun for 8 1/2 months now and I am so grateful.

I still read all of the blogs of the women I first cycled with, if they still post r haven't gone private with their blogs. I have not been one to post much once I became pregnant- I know it may sting, so I keep quiet, but I still champion for each of them. today I learned of the birth of the last to get pregnant. Some had their babies long before me, and now this one just 81/2 months after me, but there has been so much success. I am so happy for us and hope that if someone still reads my blog, that found me and my story along their journey, I want this to bring you hope. There were many days the only glimmer I had was found by reading someone else's story and it pulled me through. No one should endure the struggle. And if today is one of your darkest days, I still have hope for you, even if you don't.

My little explorer

6 months-impossible!

The view from here

I still can not believe I'm here. In Motherhood. It is a beautiful place. The pictures and stories I had seen from those that journeyed here before me didn't do it justice. I'm amazed at the view. Far more beautiful than I had expected. More breathtaking. I am afraid I won't remember everything so vividly, but I try to enjoy every step along the way. And take lots of pictures, of course. I try to hang on to every moment because I know it is all fleeting. You know how it is, you have this great lovely vacation planned and on the first day you feel like you have so many days to enjoy and then suddenly it's the night before you have to return. You wonder where the time went. It's already happening. I don't ever want to leave.

It reminds me of the time I convinced S to join me in Glacier National Park. He had never seen big mountains before and I really wanted to share that experience with him. I picked him up at the train station and off we went. The first place we set up camp he loved. He couldn't believe the beauty. Every moment he was awestruck, then it was time to pack up and go to the next part of the park. He didn't want to go. I would tell him, "Just wait. It gets better. I promise." But he was sure it couldn't get any better than THIS! I insisted that we press on. So, he sulked and moped as we packed up and left our site, until we arrived at the next spot. "THIS," he said,"is the most beautiful spot. We have to stay here the rest of the trip." "Oh, no," I said, "It gets better." Again, he reluctantly packed up and onward went. Then, to his amazement, the next spot was even more majestic than the last. He couldn't believe it. Each leg of the journey went just that way.

Here in Motherhood, it feels the same to me. I can only hope as I leave each of these magical places the next one will be just as, if not more, beautiful. I can't help but want to linger at each spot along the way, though. Savor all of it, remember everything, I don't want to forget a single thing. I'm reluctant to move on.

Like right now, this spot I'm visiting, it's beautiful. I could stay right here forever.

Love/Hate

I love being a mom. Love it! However, I've returned to work and am doing my best at leaving my little one behind. I begged my employer to let me go 3/4 time and they finally gave in for an 8 week stint. S is taking Monday, I'm on for Tuesday, and my dear mother drives 2.5 on Tuesday night and stays for 3 days to watch him Wed thru Friday. This has been a great fit for all of us and I hope we can continue even past the 8 weeks, but either way, it helps with the transition of returning to work. I hate leaving him. Did I mention that, yet? Hate it.

Some pictures

One month

I tried to post this on the actual day, but couldn't get it online. I know this is overdo, but hopefully I'll get the next one up on time. I still need to write my birth story, it just wasn't a good experience, so I start to write it and then stop. I know I should do it regardless, and sooner rather than later, although I really don't think I will forget much of the details...


Dear Pumpkin,

You are one month old today. It both feels like you have been here for years and that you just arrived yesterday. I look at you with amazement all day and keep pinching myself because this all feels like a dream, partly because I think I'm sleep walking half the day trying to catch up on the the missed sleep the week of your delivery. Really, you are a great baby. You sleep all the time and through the night. We actually have to wake you to feed you, but we know this may not last for long. We thank you everyday for giving us a little time to adjust to parenthood, though, so you can keep sleeping like you are, but if that changes, we'll adjust.

You came into the world after a long and scary 3 day labor. There were plenty of mishaps along the way, and we watched the monitor and listened to your heart beat every second, making adjustments when you seemed to be asking for help inside me. When they finally told me you were ready to be here I couldn't believe it. I must have said, "I don't believe you." to the nurses 50 times before I started pushing, because i really couldn't believe you were really going to come to us. They reassured me at that point that if things went wrong they could get to you and save you if they had to, I felt a little relieved, but then you seemed to be just as tired as I, we had worked so hard for long together, and you were such a trooper during those long hours, but your heart rate plummeted and wasn't coming back up. The fear became thick in the room and with a very serious tone, the doctor said, "Jill, we need him out NOW!" And that was that. One more push and there you were. I saw you all pink and wet, arms outstretched. Your daddy announced, "It's a BOY!" I was overjoyed. They placed your wet body, still bloody from birth, on my chest. What a feeling! The warm weight of your tiny body next to my skin was the most exquisite feeling I have ever experienced. The love that filled me was immeasurable.

You seemed to know just what to do to melt our hearts. You were so alert and clear from the beginning. You started breast feeding immediately. We joked that you must have taken Breast feeding 101 before you arrived and taught me how to feed you. I felt so lucky to have cleared this hurdle with you. Soon it was time to leave the hospital-we couldn't wait! I can't tell you how long your daddy and I dreamed of the day we would bring you home. We weren't scared or timid, but full of excitement and hope.

We weren't home for more than and few hours before you were headed back to the hospital, though. My little pumpkin was yellowed from jaundice and a trip to the doctor's office, a different hospital, and then back to the ER at the hospital where you were born. A traumatic blood draw, for your parents-it lasted 45 minutes done by a student who needed help-sorry we didn't know it should have only taken 30 seconds, you poor thing, and you and I checked into the Children's Hospital. You donned a pair of purple goggles and under the bilirubin lights. I watched over your tiny little body all night, trying to comfort you when you startled, feeding you, and feeling ferociously protective of you. We went home and made trips back to have more blood draws for a week, but soon we were back on track.

Mima had been with us for your birth, she even cut your umbilical cord, and then stayed with us for 2 weeks. She held you and sang to you and loved you up during that time and cried when she finally went home, but she was back for 3 more visits your first month. We are both so lucky to have her.

There are so many amazing things you have done during this first month of life and I do marvel at you constantly. Daddy and I took you for your first hike when you were 4 weeks to the day. Daddy wrapped you up in a sling and carried you under his coat as we trampled through the snow on Osprey Trail. You loved looking at the blue sky and tree skeletons, but soon you feel asleep.

We are shocked by how strong you are. You have been trying to hold you head up since day 2. In the hospital Daddy held you and when I walked by you picked your head up off his chest and looked over your shoulder following me across the room. This determination of yours has not waned. You can almost hold you head up on your own all the time now. You have been smiling from day 4, and your Mima is convinced it has not been from gas, but real smiles. I'm not sure about the early ones, but you give us big gummy smiles that turns us into puddles now everyday. Your eyes are still blue and we wonder if they will stay blue like your daddy's or turn brown like mine. We look at your features and try to link them to someone in the family, but I think you look just like you, just as you should and I look forward to every new day with you.

I love you very much,
Mommy