And Now Part 5: The Narcoleptic Baby… Who Complains About a Sleeping Child?
It's Sunday, September 9, and time to take baby girl home.Infant Carrier? Check.
Strapped in? Check.
Blanket? Check.
Ducky? Check.
Pants? Oops. Oh well. (A definite indicator that she was child number three..)
Did we have a cutesy going home outfit? Nah… we learned our lesson with the other two. Yes, buy your cutesy outfit to take the hospital pictures in, but there's no point in a going home outfit. Our hospital dictates that you have to have baby strapped in the carrier before you can leave your room.. so any cute dress will be squished up by the straps, and there's always going to be a blanket tucked around the cute little legs… Sorry to disappoint you but if you're the type that needs all the cute pictures, etc., do a pic in the outfit, in your lap, in the wheelchair, while still IN the hospital, or pose when you get home and you've had a chance to freshen up. Yep, gone are the days of balloons and everything strapped to the wheelchair and momma holding a little bundle. Seriously, I don't think you could've seen my face with all the stuff we were loaded down with. Definitely not the mental picture I had visioned with baby number 1.
So I go through my discharge, Addy's discharge, sign my name in a gazillion places... and here's one of the papers I received. I thought this picture was worth posting… it's the only live footprint picture I have of my daughter. And darnit, her left foot is not fully imprinted. Seriously, who thinks of these things? Who thinks, quick, gotta get this picture and that picture and the newborn photo session and this and this and this…. really, you just want to get home and sleep in your comfy bed, oh and take a shower in your perfect shower WITHOUT wearing flip flops…
I never imagined I would run out of time. Gives new meaning to the "treat every day as if it's your last". Like I said, all the woulda coulda shouldas in the world.
My biggest regret? Work. If you'll take a second to let me digress and jump back, remember I just started a new job… and I was teaching some pretty tough classes, AP Calculus, Advanced Math, Honors Pre-Calculus and 7th grade math. Now, the 7th grade math, no problem… I can teach that in my sleep. The other three? They needed lessons and assignments, etc. Not busy work. A senior knows when he/she has been handed busy work and it's not fair to them. When you're a teacher, it takes a ton of planning, work and effort to be out of school. In my opinion, it's pointless to try and take time off. Maybe it's easier with other subjects, but not math. Or at least, I've yet to figure out a solution.
My boss didn't help either…. the day Addy was born he stopped by to see us, brought a banner the students made along with some cards (how sweet!), then the conversation quickly turned to when was I giving a test, my students in such and such class hadn't had their first test yet and he needed that to happen.
I just had a baby cut out of me a few hours ago, and you want to know when I'm giving a test to my students? Really?
Now, I might have the day wrong… it may have been the next day he stopped by. Honestly, I don't remember. But my thoughts and feelings on the topic were the same. What did I say, you ask?
"I'm on it. They're having one this Tuesday and I'll have the grades put in by Friday."
Yes, go ahead and be mad. Be irate. Me? I just felt guilty that I couldn't be everything for everyone everywhere. This was supposed to be my dream job, a private school, teaching top level mathematics to students who actually wanted to learn!
Like I said, we have to have everything in place AS IF we were actually there teaching the class, AND find someone suitable to run your mini-program… which is probably the hardest when it's math. Or I could just try and find someone suitable and say here is where we are, go for it. A lot of my colleagues in the teaching world do just that. I, on the other hand, cannot. I just can't. I have to deal with the aftermath… Yes, it was my choice to work while on leave. Completely my choice. And that's what I chose to do. Could I have made different choices? Prepared more in advance? I could sit here and make excuses as to why I only had a few things ready, football in full force so I'm a single mommy to two, teaching 4 classes (in teacher world, 4 preps is a lot of work) in a new job where I don't have tenure and want to make sure my contract is renewed at the end of the year, pressure, pressure, pressure… pressure to hold it all together. Pressure to keep everything going smoothly so others don't fall. When I start my pages on Celebrate Recovery, you'll learn about something called CODEPENDENCY… I was waist-deep in trying to hold together a ticking time bomb…
Okay, so back to the original story. We came home Sunday. You saw Addy's going home picture. Notice we forgot to put her pants on… LOL, after getting her all strapped in it was just easier to lay them next to her in the carrier.
That evening my mother-in-law and her husband brought the kids by to meet their sister. Or was it the next day? Again, I really don't remember… I just know how gut-wrenching it is when I see these pictures. These are the only pictures I have of my three children together. Alive. Bryson was soooo careful holding little Addy, so protective, wanting to make sure he did it just right and didn't bother her. So gentle and protective. Abigail, who just turned two and didn't have many words just yet… kept patting her head and saying Baby sister, Sister sleeping… baby sister.The next few days, honestly, were one big blur. Addison was great, slept a lot, more than Bryson and Abby did. I noticed, but really, who complains about a sleeping baby? Especially with child number 3? You're told a gazillion times that every child is different, no matter what you do to try to put them all in the same "box". She slept. Bryson ate, Abby puked, Addison slept. Normal.
It was hard to catch her with her eyes open. She'd fall asleep through diaper changes, through a bottle, while being held… just drift away into la la land. I mean, yes she would cry and voice her displeasure and being unwrapped from her cocoon of warmth to have her clothes and/or diaper changed. But she was so sweet. She would squawk a couple of times then drift back off to sleepy land. And yes, I did just say my daughter squawked.
Newborns squawk. Babies cry…. or at least they do in the LeCroix household.
Addison didn't squawk/cry very much at all. None of our children did, really. They squawked, we gave them what they wanted, they slept. Yes, our children were incredibly easy to care for. Even Abby, the puker. You just knew not to change her or do anything for about 45 minutes while you waited for her to "hand back" whatever her sensitive tummy didn't want, LOL.
We had visitors.. not many but a few. People signed up on this cool website, Take Them A Meal (you should check it out if you ever want to do any type of meal scheduling for someone. Completely free and awesome.) Anyhow, thank you to everyone for all the wonderful meals you brought by, they really were a big help. One visitor and conversation in particular stood out to me, so I'd like to end today's segment sharing it with you.
I don't remember which day it was, honestly that doesn't even matter. My friend Farrah came by to drop off supper and check in on me. Farrah is one of the sweetest people in the world, for those of you who don't know her. She's one of those people that you wonder if they ever get angry, she just has the most pleasant demeanor. Sorta like Michelle Duggar. Anyhow, she's holding sweet Addison, who is of course sleeping, and we approach the topic of having more kids. Farrah has two adorable girls. Her youngest was born a few months before my oldest.
So of course when a young mother is holding a baby, the question always comes up… do you and your husband want more children?
Her response took me off guard. She said something to the effect of it had been a difficult year, she had seen so much suffering with friends and family that she while she did want more children, she wasn't sure she wanted to go through with it. Something like that. Like not really scared to have more children, but just sensitive to how quickly it can all turn and how nerve-wracking that is. She said, look what happened to so-and-so…
I didn't ask for permission to post so-and-so's name yet, so we will just refer to her as that… ok? Anyhow, she went to her 38 week appointment (I think it was 38… she was really close to delivery, it could have been 37…), and there was no heartbeat. Talk about devastation. Most of us think we're in the clear at 20 weeks… and here she was at the end, losing a child. Having to birth a child you… well, I just can't even imagine.
What I said next haunts me…. while I meant to give comfort and assurance to Farrah…. well, here's what I said…
Everything happens for a reason, Farrah. God has a plan. Perhaps so-and-so went through this so she could be there to support someone else.
Never in a million years would I have thought I was talking about myself.
Thus ends this segment… stay tuned for Part 6: Something's Wrong… or at least I think that's what the title will be…
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