Where’s the Pause Button?

This is it. This is the age I want to freeze Lyla at. Like when your daydreaming about cuddling and playing with your unborn baby before you’re even pregnant, and you envision this little pudgy ball of smiles that just adores you as Mommy? You know, the ones you had after seeing those mushy Pampers commercials and thought “Oooooo, I want one of those!”  Lyla is now at a place where her features are cross-roading my babyitis dreams, and I want her to stay right here.The time where she constantly smiles as big as the Grand Canyon every time I talk to her.  The time where she’s starting to be buddies with Winnie the Pooh and Glow Worm.  The time where she fills out all of her cute outfits with itty bity baby rolls, even the hats fit with that teeny head of hers!

She’s Weeble Wobble sitting, appreciating the crisp fall air on our walks, and gazing out the rear window at the flashes of sunlight blurring through her favorite trees on our drives.   Wheels On The Bus instantly stops a cry, she girlishly giggles when she gets undressed as my fingers brush under her chin, and addictively belly laughs when you kiss her tummy.

   Everywhere we go it’s “Oh.My.Gosh. You have the most adorable baby!” as we parade down the aisles of Target in her ballerina outfit, complete with a tutu and fake lace up slippers.  Duh, of course I do.  She’s so curious to pick everything up, eager to say “Ooooo that Koosh Ball feels cool in my hand” or “Now, we’re talkin’ on the gums”. And of course I want to freeze time as it’s 2 days before surgery, and that precious skin is still zipper-scar free.

I’ve been doing a lot of extra snuggling, some extra Naps on Mom time.  We danced in the sunroom today to a little Into The Mystic  - nothing like a little Van to make everything right in the world. 

And Iiiiii, want to rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of oooolld

And magnificently we will flow, into the mystiiiic

Just getting my cuddles in before I can’t hold her so tight for 6 weeks.  Really for the first couple of days post-op, not even be able to pick her up at all.  But the moment that gives me nightmares and causes me to go silent when envisioning is the pre-op nurse holding her arms outstretched for me to hand over my perfect-to-me daughter.  Has haunted me from day 1.  I wish I could stay with Lyla until she falls asleep to dreams filled with milk – a really long dream this time - but rules are rules. Instead we will impatiently wait on October 12 until those relieving words are reported back, “The surgery is done and you can go see your daughter now.”

But since freezing time is impossible, we’ll just go out and make the most of it.  Yesterday, we found HEAVEN. ON. EARTH.  Literally.It was straight up out of What Dreams May Come.  And get this – it’s right around the corner from our neighborhood.  The conserved land is called World’s End because of the northernmost point overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.  I was blown away from the rolling hills scattered with tremendous fields of tall grass, the water’s edge backlit with the Boston skyline that met the green hills with such great contrast of color, and the perfectly carved out carriage pathways canopied with the architecturally planted trees that reminded me of the Gone With The Wind section of Government Blvd in historic Mobile.

The only problem is – it’s October! Why did we not discover this in May?! Oh well, I guess it’s not going anywhere over winter. Get a load of this peacefulness…

And then it came to me with the whole cartoon light bulb hovering over my head. I whispered to Lyla as we were having a bottle and Dad was napping, “Lyla! This is the 100 Acre Woods we’ve been reading about!  I think Pooh Bear lives in that tree, and Tigger is bouncing down the path just around the corner.  But I think you’re Piglet with the way you’re chugging this milk.”  Trust me when I say that those books can give you a lot of insight now as the adult reader!  Who needs Dr. Phil when you have Owl.  I am amazed by the simplistic messages that would make the world such a better place if the auto-pilot parents would just listen to what they’re reading to their children every night.  So if you’re feeling lost in life – read a Pooh book!

“Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering.” –Winnie the Pooh

 

On the eve of surgery week, the emotions are really starting to flow.  I try to hang onto those better-world feelings as we quickly approach Tuesday.  The day she was born we found out she had Down syndrome at 2:000 am, and 23 hours later learned she had 2 heart defects.  It was a double whammy.  I thought my suddenly special world was going to be taken away within hours of just meeting her.  When you hear your kid has a heart defect, for some reason you think they're not going to make it.  The heart – the center of our being.  And my daughter’s didn’t work right.  Shit.  But then as the weeks went on, we learned that the defects were very common within our little extra chromosome club.  And that it was a very successful surgery to correct the lives that deserved to keep on giving.

Here we are, 6 months later.  Exactly 6 months later.  Ready to tackle the hardest day of my life, I’m sure Troy’s, and well I guess Lyla's too.  (But I don’t know, all of that work to squiggle her way down the birth canal was probably really hard too. You want me to put my head through where?!)  We're ready.  Well I guess we're ready.  We've talked to other moms who have gone through this.  We've seen pictures of other little ones hooked up to the maze of wires post-op to get a feel of what it's going to be like entering that sterile recovery room.  We've got the bags packed once again like we did while pregnant.  And somehow, I feel like someone is going to pull the rug from under us one more time as we give our daughter up to the nurse that we just met 5 minutes prior. But it’s Children’s Hospital Boston – the place where families fly from Turkey to get to these #1 rated pediatric cardiac surgeons in the world.  I need to remember that confidence. And do something very un-Jessica like:  just give up the control for those 5 long hours to those miracle workers.

I have hope.  The past 6 months have taught me that positive thoughts can motivate a day into something it wasn't before, because of stupid books like "A Guide to Babies with Down Syndrome" that will scare you to all hell and back with flashes to the future of your possible medical-drama life.  Worst case scenarios that probably won't even exist.  I go into next week with strength that we will get us through surgery week, just like we have gotten through the last 6 months - with ease.  You can't dwell on it, you can't beg "Why me?!" You just have to deal.  And know that with your commitment and encouragement, you will successfully cross over to the other side of the tracks by just being there for your babe. 

Will it will royally SUCK? Absolutely. Will it will be the least sleep you've gotten in your life?  Probably, even outranking those sleepless days through hell week in my sorority.  But I constantly remind myself that surgery just makes it all better.  The surgeons will lift the emergency brake off of her heart, and she can then coast on out of the hospital parking lot to enjoy the rest of her life unrestricted. 

So here’s the run down:  Tomorrow (Monday) is our pre-op day.  We go in at 7am to start a round of tests & meetings: chest x-ray, blood work, a physical, a sedated echocardiogram, meetings with the surgeon/ cardiologist/ anesthesiologist, and wrapping up with a tour of our temporary home.  Should be about an 8-hour day.  Yuck.  With my best effort, I will be updating this blog throughout Tuesday and recovery week to let all of our loved ones know the progress Lyla is making.  I understand it can be hard to be so far away from the operation when all you want to do is show support, but this will be a great avenue to send your love while we post messages on how our little rock star is breezing through recovery.

Alright, here we go!

Just Look Up

Last post July 21…wow. I apologize for our absence from the blog world. I often wait to write until I feel a wave of inspiration hit me like a hurricane full of "ah-ha moments". With the combination of Lex Luther appearing, Troy traveling like a rock star the last couple of months throwing me into Teen Mom mode, and solo me trying to keep up with the rat race of running this house alone - I had my blinders on unable to write the tale-telling moments Lyla gives me each day.Easier said than done to listen to my own prior post preaching of setting the to-do list aside I guess.

But we did figure out a way to kick pesky Lex's behind. A daily walk. It's so easy to get wrapped up in the spider web of marathon nursing, no-hands pumping, piling dishes, 2-minute showers, explosive diaper laundry, therapy tummy time, floor cleaning for the tummy time so our therapist doesn’t think we’re slobs, speedy microwave cooking, needed online support groups, and thick baby books. All of it holds you down indoors so much that you forget to step outside and just get some fresh air. So I made a pact with myself to get into this gorgeous sea breeze once a day. Even if the tables were dusty, even if there were 20 emails waiting for me in my inbox…just get outside. Every day (minus the “There is no way I am choosing to exercise over getting a shower in” Days) I have been packing her up in the ridiculously expensive stroller we might as well get some use out of. And the Curious George wide-eyed looks up into the dangling trees tells me she just loves it. I'm pretty sure she has a fascination with leaves, it’s so funny to watch. My sister actually pointed this out to me when we were in a hidden-gem Buffalo park taking our family photos. Lyla really will just look up and stare at all of that green. Not able to get enough of the curly-q stems and the infinite branching limbs, holding these fascinating pieces of nature that make the calmest noise when the wind gives a little push. And there it was – the first time I was re-appreciating things on this earth through my baby’s eyes. This was something I was very much looking forward to when imagining raising a child. You teach them, they teach you.

We continue down the neighborhood walking route, gazing at the monstrous doctors’ houses along our stroll, smiling at the overly excited summer-break kids running around the neighborhood chasing each other with neon water guns. We pet the friendly doggies that pass us by, and admire the Boston skyline that peeks out from the sunny haze miles away over the water. It's a real treat to be out, and I often wonder once I'm out there why it was so hard to get out of the house in the first place.

Since deciding to take this daily refresher, we've had the pleasure of passing by a certain young man in his 20’s probably 75% of the time. Somehow we are always running into him! I would give a wave as he passes by on his bike ringing the charming bell you’d thought would be extinct, gladly detouring our stroller to the grass to let him stay on course on the safe sidewalk. Or we’ll excitingly yell “Hi!” as he proudly escorts his fluffy white dog over to show off while on a Tuesday afternoon stroll. I was having a “me time” lunch at Panera along the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Hingham Harbor, and there he was riding his bike back to the neighborhood we both call home! He consistently has a smile on and looks like each fresh day is his new favorite. See, this young man is in the Extra Chromosome Club with Lyla. His presence always blows me away, like a constant reminder from a higher power who says, “Look how independent he is. Look how brave he is. Look how happy he is.” I find myself now searching for him when we’re out for our adventures, waiting for the sounding bell from around the bend to give us a daily dose of confidence. Hopefully he doesn’t think we’re stalking him haha. My overly eager curiosity wants to ask him his name, where he’s coming from each day, if he works, where he lives, if I can meet his parents….but I don’t want to scare the kid! Instead I know his dog’s name is Bud, and we can take baby steps to hopefully make him a new neighborhood friend.

From the leaves, to the new faces that are passing by, Lyla was teaching another lesson. There’s a whole different world view if you just look up.

Enter Lex Luthor

A couple of days ago was my first breakdown. I reached my boiling point. I knew the rainbows and butterflies wouldn't last forever. SuperMann broke. It all started with me waking up at 4am on the couch. Dammit, I fell asleep in the non-a/c room, and now I'm sweating when the moon is out. New England? Alabama? Where am I? Great...boobs are huge. I forgot to pump before drifting into dreams full of me in a size 6. Perfect.
Change scene to minutes later falling asleep sitting up in the glider, pump cups in hand sucking away. I'm amazed we didn't have a bp milk spill. I guess I'm just that talented now, I can pump with my eyes closed and brain shut down. Trust me, you don't want to see a picture of this part.

Thank God Troy took the 6am shift, or I'm pretty sure we would have had a clip from Mommy Dearest all up in this joint. I get up later with the attitude that I'm going to tackle my 100 things to do list today - yet I am just glued to the recliner as she won't stop nursing. As soon as I hesitantly lay her down after a feeding, she yells "Psych!" by waking up and demanding more. I'm bored on feeding #3 and start aimlessly looking around the room. Found #101 to do - take care of these shrek toes and get a pedicure!!!

But wait - my clothes are still in the suitcase from our vacation ending a week ago, I need to eat breakfast since it's 11am, Lyla's clean clothes are scattered all over the once prestinely decorated nursery, What is that smell coming from her room???, the house needs a desperate deep clean from being away for 2 weeks, guys are coming over this afternoon to replace the carpet on the stairs, Am I ever going to make it to the gym?, need to schedule a pre-surgery cardio appointment for her, flights to be booked, company coming into town this week....AHHHHHHHHHHH. Poor Troy, he ended up being the target.

Some call it postpartum depression. I call it being a new mom and getting your world turned upside down. The preconceived notion that being a stay-at-home mom is the easy way out is haunting me. I can't believe I ever thought this. Talk about a bad judgement call, just like thinking I would actually use my gym membership after she was born. It's the hardest job I've ever had. Don't get me wrong, I love doing it. And the salary that she rewards me with is way better than any 6-figure income. But sometimes mama needs a break from this 7 days a week job. What am I going to do?

Pedicure.

There's no need to be SuperMann here. Characters like that are fictional for a reason. I learned to listen to my cues and just take a break. Sometimes you just need to drop it all and go read gossip magazines while someone rubs tension-melting hot stones from the arches of your feet to the insides of your calves. Sometimes you just need to hop into the car and jam out to some Put A Ring On It without your baby's sensitive ears in the car. Sometimes you just need to stare at your freshly bright painted matching nails and toes to make you feel 1000% better about your image. I came back reenergized and ready to tackle it all. Then she wanted to eat more...so I only got to #2 on the list.

Point being, we're never going to be satisfied with our meaningless pending to-do's. There's way better things outside of your house walls to go expereince rather than fighting that damn neverending list. Things like piling laundry and 3-day old voicemails can wait. Instead I'm going to go enjoy a walk along the water and later on take pride in making the little one laugh for the first time.

Go ahead and do the same - shut off your rambling mind and go enjoy a summer sherbert sunset!

There You Are Lyla

11 weeks of waiting like a 4 year old on Christmas morning at the top of the stairs. Or 77 days of asking if this was the date I could write down in the baby book. The crisp new pages were staring at me in the nursery, waiting to get some kind of event in it. I counted down 1848 hours for her first real milestone - the famous first smile. I felt like every morning when we "talked" at the diaper changing station, I was babbling to a wall with myself. I knew she was in there, but without any acknowledgement of my high pitched baby talk or reaction to my silly faces, it felt like Lyla was missing. Her social butterfly soul was deep inside somewhere behind those wandering eyes trying to focus on something. It was starting to get really hard as all of my dedicated work was constantly going unanswered. The situation was getting frustrating with my baby boom friends' kids beaming bright gummy smiles only 6 weeks in.

Here we go with the delayed milestones.
How long am I going to have to wait?

Is this ever going to happen???

It wasn't a typical morning on Sunday, June 27. We had spent the night at a dear friend of my husband's house with her family, a fellow 20-months into it mother that I've now become closer with than Troy thanks to Facebook ;o)

Lyla and I enjoyed our first morning feeding session in the comfy, worn in recliner of their cheerfully decorated pink & green nursery where their little girl enjoyed getting her milk as an infant just the year before. A sort of circle of life moment in our breastfeeding bubble we share since us girls had just gabbed the night before, over glorious crisp pinot grigio of course, about the ups and ups of nursing. So here Lyla & I are, fast asleep in now their chair, and I awake realizing we've done it once again. She's just too darn cuddly not to fall asleep with.

We groggingly rise to wander half-eyed down the hall to our guest bedroom where Daddy is passed out in a hangover sleep. Scotch and Troy are the bestest of friends. I place her little body in between us, knowing her eagerly wanting to stretch out arms and legs are going to push against Troy's back. If she wakes him up, he can't be mad at me hehe. He rolls over and we're both on our sides facing the cutest baby on earth. Could have been a perfect family photo. "Good morning Lyla" was all he had to say for her to stare right into his eyes and give the biggest wide-open smile you've ever seen. This wasn't gas, this wasn't a fluke. This was a little girl so happy to see her daddy and giving the biggest sign of I Love You one can give. "She smiled, she smiled!", he proudfully owned.

I have to admit, my first reaction was not excitement or pride. A jealous "Are you frickin kidding me?!" was more like it since I have dedicated my existance to this kid for the last 3 months and 10 months of elephant ankle-swelling pregnancy... and she gives it all to her father. But the true emotion of joy overtook as I realized she had done it. Her first real milestone that meant progress. The milestone that meant we could have 2-way conversations and not just 1. The milestone to say we're getting somewhere. The milestone where she could shine.

It only took until the next morning for me to get a smile sent my way. She is a total morning girl - a true sign she is her father's daughter. No wonder he got the first grin. I am never a pretty sight at 6am. But this new 6am was filled with multiple smiles!

There you are Lyla. I have been waiting to meet you.

Now we get smiles every day. All day. She'll smile at baby talk, fun new noises, and getting a new diaper. She'll smile at me, at Troy, and at anything else that has a face - including her new love for toy Panda. (I'm pretty sure they're dating as she's infactuated with his black and white fur.)

Love my little social butterfly. Love to think ahead to how many smiles she'll be flashing at random people on the street to make the world a little bit better place for all.

The Advocate

I used to watch the commercial for Hillary Duff's anti-"That's so gay" campaign, urging teens to stop using the phrase that seemed to roll off the tongue a little too easy. The set was straight out of an after school special. Really Hill, this is what your career has brought you to? I could never pay attention to how true her message was, since the commercial was corny squared. There are some phrases in our vocabulary these days that we are too quick to say, and don't really realize the innocent people around us that we're actually hurting by saying it. The only thing we're allowed to call out as gay is Liza Manelli's Put A Ring On It in Sex And The City 2...I wanted to dance in the movie aisles.

I am going to ask you all something, and am only going to say it once nicely- please don't use the popular phrase "That's so retarded" anymore. Or "Stop being so retarded". It hurts me to the core to hear it now. When you're calling your freind out for being an ass, I'm thinking of my sweet daughter's almond eyes and how you totally just dissed my 12 pound 3-month old. And when sweet Lyla can comprehend what others are saying around her, I PRAY no one utters the "r" word in front of her innocent ears as well, that makes her blush and feel bad about herself. Or I'm going to have to get all mama bear on their ass. Or even worse, Nana will come after ya. Do yourself a favor and get rid of the sayings that mean nothing to you, but means everything to others. Expand your vocabulary.

Grrrrr. Ok, vent over.