Filling In The Gap

I can't believe that there is a whole year of space in my posts. Can't believe that I missed out on writing about everything.
Not much to say though, from before the 9 weeks of my last post to my 4th month or later I was very sick. Lost 10 lbs. But in the end I more than made up for it. In a single month I'd put on over twenty.
They said I would deliver early, closer to the beginning of the month and everyone at work thought I'd go even before that. But he held out on me and I went into active labor just after midnight on my due date.
Those work people are a different story. While I was preggo they were all like; how exciting a boy, have you done a registry, you now we'll do something. Nothing. Not even a phone call.
We found out about his cleft when he was born, out he came and the midwife asked if we knew already. No, but that's just kinda how my life goes. He was amazing and perfect, grey eyes and a head full of dark brown hair that stood straight up.
I didn't understand why he wasn't moved into my room after he was cleaned up. The doctors and nurses didn't know what to do with him and how to care for him, they didn't have the equipment to feed him properly so instead of being with me, he was in the nursery. That wasn't a welcoming environment either. From the time he left the delivery room till I was discharged 2 days later, I held him 3 times.
The doctor who saw him had told us in the delivery room that if they got him eating from a tube he would be coming home with us, but instead they transferred him to another hospital.
A week of driving over an hour to see my baby. A week of leaving him behind every evening. A week of having no one to call or talk to, no one asking how things were going. A week of them telling me every evening he would probably be coming home the next day and then the next morning saying no. A week of wanting to bring him home AMA because I knew that once he was home he'd do better.
And he did. Once he was home and only one person was keeping track of his feedings and sleep, he started eating so much more. Instead of being kept to a strict schedule like at the hospital where he was only fed every few hours instead of as needed, he was allowed to eat as much as he could as often as he was willing and pretty soon he was ahead of the eating curve.
One surgeon would have done his palate repair in December which would have been great, but the doctor never actually answered any of my questions. He never really communicated with me. I have to know what is happening with my baby.
Another was going to wait until a year to a year and a half old. Too late for me and again, bad parental communication skills.
When we met with Shriner's, the doctor answered my whole list of questions, in detail, before I asked them. He gave honest opinions and didn't spend time trying to say how he was the best person to do the surgery.

Thanks and Turkeys

He's my little turkey and I love him. His blue eyes just melt my heart and his smile and giggles fill up a room. He has an amazing personality and, I'm afraid, a bit of my attitude and perhaps temper.

I don't really ever want to share him with anyone else, but at the same time I want to share what a joy he is to me.

It feels like just yesterday it was the beginning of summer and I thought he would never arrive and now he's five and a half months old. He reminds me of everything in life there is to be thankful for. Love and family, doctors and friends and miracles. Every day I find more reasons why maybe he was exactly what I needed. He has mellowed me. Well, a little anyways. He has slowed me down and cooled my fighting side. He has made me stronger and braver.

I can hardly believe sometimes, even when all I can do is curl up and cry, that I would be blessed with such an amazing little gift. It amazes me how he has been through so much already and still wakes up every morning with a smile on his face and a little mischevious twinkle in his eye.

His is forever my baby and I love him.

Poor kid

Like it's not bad enough the poor kid was born with a cleft lip and palate. At least he doesn't know any different and by the time he's old enough to know any different, it will be all fixed.

He looked perfectly perfect to me when he was born, I really didn't understand why he couldn't room-in, why he had to stay in the nursery. I had started to get past that, started to realize that maybe the doctors didn't see it in the ultrasounds for a reason. I'm a control freak and kids do tend to be beyond control.

And now this. I really thought he was dying. Already gone. I thought I was losing my baby right before my eyes. I couldn't even be spared the trauma of witnessing it. In a split second I looked down and he was blue. It was all wrong. I panicked.

I feel like it's all my fault. I wanted this. Him. He was my choice and now everything that was so good in my life has changed. But now I know who my friends aren't. And are I suppose. I just want him to be happy and healthy and never experience the bad I have seen.

Freedom

Where did patriotism go? Were all those flags and ribbons just a few years ago just a fad? With no real meaning behind them?

It bothers me to see people talking during the National Anthem, who don't know the words to the Pledge of Allegiance. But then I realize something, they fought for that freedom. That freedom to choose not to take part in the traditions of the Star Spangled Banner and Pledge. I realize that the decision to be disrespectful to those who chose to give their lives for ours, and their families, is one of the freedoms fought for and to protect. But does it make it okay?

Does Having the freedom mean it's acceptable. We have the freedom to own firearms, not every country does, but it doesn't make it okay to shoot people.

I think patriotism is very important.

Perception

I'd never really thought about how other people perceive the outcome of a child raised in a chaotic and violent environment. How they expect that such a child inevitably grows up to repeat the cycle. But does it have to be that way?

Does a child exposed to abuse and domestic violence, childhood rape and repeated betrayal, and ultimately domestic violence within one of their own relationships really have no choice but to follow the same path? Is it beyond reality to consider such a child can grow up despite their environment and become a regular person?

Or can the nature of the child determine a more positive outcome? Can personality protect from reality, act as a buffer of sorts between environment and the most obvious outcome? In nature versus nurture, can nature take a child beyond the limited experience of nurture and create a person who knows to be aware of their past and to consciously move past it?

I sat there listening to them determining that environment produces society's troubling figures. I wanted to ask what they thought would happen when a child was raised through some of the worst environmental factors and how they figured the child would turn out as an adult. How they would react if they knew someone they worked with or lived near has had such a tumultuous childhood. In knowing, would they tend to avoid the person out of fear for what could possibly happen?

Back to the days of forced sterilization, would they recommend that such a person not have and raise children of their own in an attempt to stop the cycle?

Would knowing change how they viewed a person?

weddings and other such joys

Nine weeks already. Finally got our marriage license taken care of so I am now officially married, yay. Of course celebrating was a bit out of the questioni as I'm still sick more days than not. Oh well, we'll get there.

mothering

The mothering is getting old. I get it at work, in the neighborhood, from people who don't even have kids. Some act like they have every right to tell me what to do, which they don't, and the one person I figured would do it the most, hasn't.

My MIL pretty much doesn't offer up anything unless asked, which is nice. But a friend(ish) went all control freak when I mentioned looking into a place that offers alternative birthing options. Because it is so her place to have any say-so whatsoever.

A neighbor who has no kids felt the urge to give me all of her opinions on what I should do and those at work really have only gotten onto me for lifting anything heavier than like, my finger. Moved an empty suitcase the other day (did not lift, pushed) and got an ear full. Was all like really? If I can't do this then pretty much everything else is out of the question.