month 1

Ryder-

You have made it through one month. I must apologize, your first month has not been as exciting as Quincy's was. We have kind of been home bodies, you and I. It's amazing how quickly we forget how much work a newborn is. I think as much as you are trying to figure this life out, once again so am I. And I am struggling with having you here without your sister. It's so different than I imagined it would be. I always thought I would have my little helper and be able to teach her so much about babies and new life. I am trying hard to not let that get in my way of enjoying these first few special months with you.

You are starting to grow like a weed, finally! After you came home from the hospital you were a little jaundice and lost weight. It took you a month to finally get back up to your birth weight and once you did you starting putting on the pounds quick. You now weigh in at 8 pounds 8 ounces. You are still a tiny dude, but your cheeks are starting to fill out and you are losing that scrawny newborn look.

You are not a real content baby. You like to be held and are kind of whiny.You started out pretty happy and were sleeping wonderfully at night, but after your stay at Primary Children's you have kind of gone down hill. While there I pumped and fed you bottles and once we got home you decided that nursing is too hard. You are kind of lazy and don't want to work for your food. You get upset really quickly when you are hungry. We are working on nursing, but for now you are winning and I am a pumping fool.

As I bragged so much about your sister and how well she slept I can't do the same for you. You are not horrible but you usually only sleep 3-4 hours at night where at this point she was sleeping 6-7. Sometimes you give me 5 which I love, but not very often. You do go to bed really well though. We have been putting you to bed awake like we did Q so that you learn to soothe yourself and you are doing pretty good at it.

You have had really bad acid reflux which makes you pretty fussy. We just started you on some meds to help you feel better. I feel so bad that you are in pain and hope to see a different baby as these meds start kicking in. I don't want you to be sad all the time.

You are quite the talker already. When you are awake you are rarely quiet. If you aren't fussing you are cooing and grunting and squeaking. I like the soft happy noises. Makes me feel like you are trying to tell me things. We haven't gone too many places besides running around town but I have thoroughly enjoyed having you come along with me. I love having a buddy in the car with me and in the cart at the store. Makes everything more enjoyable. We took you hunting in Wallsburg a few times. We didn't get a deer but shot a raccoon. You didn't even flinch when I shot the gun. That's great, we are getting you used to the sound early on.

Ryder, you are so different than your sister and that is ok. It is taking us some time to adjust to such a different kid but we are truly happy to have you in our family. Like Q, we feel like you are another huge blessing and feel honored to be your parents. I hope you can continue to be patient with us as we continue to grieve for your sister and learn to love you like we do her. We love you more and more every day and hope we get to spend a long happy life with you.

 

Love you lots.

too close

I feel that I kind of live on eggshells. Since Q died I always have an underlying fear of the worst. I tend to over analyze situations thinking of what could happen, especially when it comes to my child. I never really worried with Q because she was such a huge blessing I just figured she would be somewhat "protected" and honestly nothing really tragic had ever happened to me before so I had that all empowered feeling of "It won't happen to me". Well, it did and since then I don't ever feel completely relaxed. I always have a bit of fear nagging at me.

It was the morning of October 5th, Ryder's big day, his circumcision. As I said before I now tend to run over every scenario in my head of what could go wrong. I was nervous about taking Ryder to the circumcision but continuously repeated to myself that it's a routine procedure, he was going to be fine. I have a cousin that lost her little boy of 2 weeks after his circumcision and I just couldn't get that out of my head. I kept telling myself to relax, I just lost a child, nothing will happen to this one. I said a little prayer on the way in to the office to calm myself.

When I got in there the Dr. asked if I wanted to stay or if I wanted to go and they would call me when they were done. I never thought I would want to watch because no mother wants to see their child in pain, but I decided I would stay and give Ryder the sugar water. Also I was curious. I had no brothers and this is my first boy. Ryder did great during the procedure and my fears were starting to subside. Why do I always have to be such a basket case? The Dr. told me to hold him for a few minutes while the bleeding slowed and he would be back to check on us. Ryder was very calm and relaxed as the nurse came in to give him some Tylenol. That's when things got scary. He held the Tylenol in his mouth and wouldn't swallow. He looked like he didn't like it, but I soon realized he was choking. I told the nurse to go get the Dr. and as she left Ryder stopped breathing. His lips and chin quickly turned blue and his body was turning purple. I did the motherly thing and flipped him over, thrusting my palm on his back. Panic began to set in as I once again held my lifeless child. I realized that hitting him on the back was not helping and I ran down the hall to find the Dr.

The next 30 minutes were a battle. I was trying so hard not to fall apart in that small room. A room I remember having a happy, healthy Quincy in not too long before for a well child checkup. A room where I feared I was going to lose another child, my worst fears becoming a reality once again. How could this be happening? As I paced the room my mind was spinning with thoughts of funerals and headstones. My arms were aching with the feeling of a lifeless body. My throat was choking back sobs, my eyes holding in tears. I was terrified.

The Dr. was working furiously to keep Ryder breathing and soon realized that he needed more attention. He called the ambulance and sent us to Primary Children's Hospital. I had text Brady during all of this and he got there just before the ambulance. After 2 days in the hospital and multiple tests it was determined that Ryder may have just aspirated the Tylenol and is a healthy baby. What a blessing.

I couldn't help but be angry that this had happened. Doesn't God know how fragile I am right now? Why does he have to scare me so much? The thought of losing another child is crippling. I honestly don't think I could go through all the pain again. I am still going through it. As I was in that room watching my beautiful child on the table struggling to breath, fighting to live, I prayed. I prayed and prayed. I felt so incredibly helpless as I realized once again that this life is not our own. It doesn't matter what we do, when God wants us home we are done here. I tried so hard those next two days to let go of that fear and just trust. Trust that God would bless my boy to live and that everything would be healthy and normal. Every test they took I prayed. Please please let him be healthy. And he was. And he is. And I am so very thankful. 

I don't know why I have to keep having these experiences, but I hope that whatever it is that I am to learn I am learning it, because my heart can't handle much more. I know that God is aware of me and my feelings and emotions and I trust that he will watch out for me. I have to let the fear go and trust that He knows what's best and then be ok with what happens, which I am learning is not always an easy thing to do. My prayers were answered this time and I am so thankful for my precious boy.

confessions

Lately I have been overwhelmingly consumed with sadness. I feel so guilty because I have this beautiful, perfect, happy, healthy little boy in my arms and yet I am filled with pain and tears. I'm not depressed, no postpartum, just sincerely sad. I love Ryder so much and I really do feel blessed to be able to have another child, but I long so badly for Quincy I can hardly stand it. I so desperately want Ryder to be enough, to feel that indescribable joy that most mothers feel when they hold their newborn and be content and satisfied, but I don't. I always feel like someone is missing. I feel like the joy is being suffocated by sorrow. I keep thinking the day will come that I will think of Q and smile and feel a warm comfort and peace knowing what I know about where she is and the Plan of Salvation, but I don't feel that way at all. I feel pain. I feel loneliness. I feel longing. I hurt.

Along with everything else, I am afraid. I am fearful. I loved Quincy with every tiny piece of my heart. My whole life was consumed by her. I was obsessed. And to lose her, I feel like I have lost a piece of myself. I am so terrified of losing another child and the pain that goes along with it, that I am cautious to give my whole heart again and to love as sincerely. I know this is awful and I hate to even write it, but it's true. I always have the thought in the back of my mind that I may never see my child again and I hate it.

I knew lots of mixed emotions would come after I had Ryder. Having a newborn again is like reliving Quincy. She taught me everything I know about babies and being a mother. But I didn't think it would be this hard. I didn't think I would be this sad. I don't want to be so sad. I know that I will always hurt for Q, but I don't want to be consumed by it. I want to enjoy Ryder and the other children I hope to have, just as much as I enjoyed Q. I don't want to be afraid and always worry that I might never see them again. I want to love again with every little bit of my heart.

I don't know why this terrible thing has happened and why God thinks that I am strong enough to get through this, but it did and He does. So what do I do? How do I make it through every day and move forward and enjoy the rest of my life? I trust, in Him and myself. Trust that He will strengthen and guide me, calm and carry me. And then I have to let Him. And I will.