One Year With A Little Piece of Heaven!

I really find it hard to believe I am writing about the last YEAR with my sweet Samuel Luke.

Especially because it is 4:02 in the morning and I am STILL trying to get a video of the past year I made put together.

Rather, it's put together but I need to clean space off my computer because my eight million and 4 pictures have stolen all my space.

Time consuming. But I'm still on Maui time, so it's ok.

Luke is back to regular time, though...so it could be rough in a few hours!

How is it possible that my sweet little boy is already a year old? How?

I just brought him home.

He just opened his eyes and saw his Mama.

He just mewed that sweet little Baby Kitty mew.

I just don't get it.

And because it is late, and I am tired, I don't have the energy to tell that precious boy of mine everything I want to tell him, but that's ok because I'll tell him the gist every day for the rest of my life:

He is precious.

He is healing.

He is magical.

He is bliss.

He is SUCH a good traveler.

He is not walking yet, but cruising all around and starting to stand on his own for a few seconds.

He has 6 teeth and working on two more...his bottom two and his top two and the two on either side of those are in, and the two on the side of THOSE are trying!

He is a great eater, when he wants to, and he'll at least TRY just about anything.

He'll immediately push right back out whatever he doesn't want.

His words are: Mama, Dada, Hi! Bye, Doggie, Bath and Baby.

Yep, pretty much the essentials, though I think he uses Doggie as much as mama and he also learned Zach (his cousin) this week.

He loved Maui. Not so much the sand, but eventually the pool and the little pebbles. They were delicious. BIG fan of the hot tub. The boy likes warm water! And loves, loves, loves fruity drinks with straws!

He is a great sleeper. He goes to sleep around 7ish and wakes around 7ish the next day. Sometimes wakes up in the night, but usually settles himself. We'll see how that goes when the paci goes bye-bye.

Naps are not on any schedule, but more certain periods of time since last wake-up. He really only fusses when he's ready for a nap, and then, it's not fussing as much as whining and clinging to mama.

Which I love. (Well, the clinging to mama part!)

His 12 month appointment is next week. He is 21 lbs, 7 oz. by our scale. Still low on the percentiles, but you'd NEVER know it by looking at him or picking him up. Someone in Maui called him a Sumo Baby.

Hmpf.

He is just joy, joy, joy and more joy to my soul. He has helped my faith be restored.

Yes, I felt betrayed and disappointed by God. I think that would have been expected.

But if I hold God responsible for my feelings after Matthew died, then I must do the same for the last year with Luke.

And truly, my heart has been filled with a love so amazing and so deep that I simply cannot thank God enough.

I'll never know or understand why we've lived the years we've lived.

Or why they've been how they've been.

But I don't need to know.

Holding that precious little boy in my arms for the last year has been enough to tell me that God LOVES me so much.

How else could I have been so blessed with this amazing and wonderful little boy we call Luke?

Happy Birthday, sweet, sweet boy. You will never know what you mean to Mama, but I hope you believe that you are precious to me in a way that words simply can't do justice.

I love, love, love you.

I love you in the morning,

I love you in the night.

I love you when you're happy,

I love you when you fight.

I love you in the daytime,

And all the nighttime too.....

I love you, love you, love you...

I love you, YES I DO!

Freeze, time! Freeze!

I cannot believe my sweet little Luke is 17 weeks old! I still feel like he is just newly born and we are practically fresh out of the hospital. Time is moving way too quickly--I didn't even get a chance to post his 16 weeks update last week. He just can't be this big already!!!

Clothes don’t lie, though! It seems like I take a few outfits out of his wardrobe on a daily basis—outfits that don’t fit anymore and used to seem SO big to me!! Even his Easter outfit surprised me! I thought it was going to be too long for him and lo and behold, it fit just fine. In fact, with his fluffy cloth diaper bottom, it might have been called snug!

I went shopping for summer clothes for him last week and while I love shopping for all the sweet little things out there, I got so nostalgic and weepy right in the middle of the Carter’s store as I saw outfits that were teeny, tiny and wouldn’t come close to fitting him. I saw the “Little Brother” outfit I had bought for him before he was born…I bought the newborn size, and it was big! My little peanut needed preemie, and now he is pretty much exclusively in 3-6 months clothing. Some Gymboree things (they run big!) are still 0-3, but those 0-3 outfits are few and far between. Heck, in just a week of buying things last week, there are already two or three 3-6 month outfits that are iffy for fitting!

I feel like time is spinning out of control—I never seem to have enough of it. Enough to get things I want to get done done and enough of it to prolong Luke’s babyhood. Every single day, I am more and more aware of how I need to soak in every second I can because I blink and they are GONE!

Last week, he hit the 13 lbs. mark, barely. It put him in the 24th percentile. Yesterday I weighed him and he was 13 lbs., 11 oz. and this put him in the 29th percentile. I think he is going through a growth spurt, even though he's still on the low end of the charts. Considering it took him a while to get on the chart at all, I still am ok with that. I shudder to even think about where I am on a chart! Oh wait, I’m not. Guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, huh?

His first Easter had Grandma and cousin Andi visit, with Aunt Pretty, Uncle Puny and cousins Zach and Ryan visiting a bit right before. He enjoyed all the antics done to entertain him, and gave out lots and lots of smiles. He didn’t really do much for Easter this year, save ‘help’ Mommy make a bunny cake. In his Easter basket were books a few toys and things for the beach this summer in NC! We plan to have quite an enjoyable beach summer!

After Easter service, we went to Matthew’s grave and planted a few hyacinths. We’ve finally gotten the bench in; our precious L&D nurses gathered together for a nice bench and as Luke is older, John imagines that we might spend some nice sunny days there…eating lunch or reading books and just remembering how special Matthew is in our family. As much as I don’t like being ‘tied’ to a grave, I will miss quiet, reflective moments there while we are in Jacksonville. I am so grateful to those who have told me that they visit, or will visit while we are gone. The thought that his grave may go untended or unkempt breaks my heart. When I walk by graves like that, I always feel so terribly for the deceased—it’s as if their life doesn’t matter to someone any more and the thought that someone might think that of Matthew’s terrifies me.

That baby boy matters as much today as he did the day he was born and he will when I take my last breath.

I want him to matter to Luke, too.

Luke is such a smiley, smiley baby! He almost always wakes up with a smile, and he gives them pretty freely to just about anyone. He has special ones just for me, though, and they make me melt. Not only does he give this big, sweet grin; he gives this adorable little head tilt that kind of says, “Aww, shucks, mommy….you really think I’m that great?” Seriously, the kid is just too cute. He makes me laugh out loud sometimes when I feed him because every now and then, he’ll just stop and look up at me and grin. With a coy little smile and twinkling eyes—like he is just tickled to pieces over something. He also gives some of the funniest looks with his eyes—he bulges his eyes wide open as if to say, “WHAT?” and he is often furrowing his brows inquisitively as if he’s not quite sure of what the situation is and he wants to analyze it a tad bit more. He cracks me up with how sweet and huge his grins are and then seconds later how he can look so intensely and inquisitively!

He is slowly but surely reaching for more things, and is very capable in grasping them—and then bringing them directly to his mouth! Most everything tries to go to his mouth, including his fists still. He had a breakthrough on Good Friday, though—he opened his fist enough to find his THUMB! He isn’t consistent in sucking it, but then again, he’s not all that consistent in sucking on his paci, either…I have a feeling that he will be more of a thumb/finger sucker as he realizes more how easily accessible it is! Still hating tummy time, but we do it regularly. About the only time he fusses is tummy time or when he’s tired. Often, it’s because he is TIRED of TUMMY TIME! I know it's too early to get an idea of him being left- or right-handed, but he NEVER reaches for anything with his right hand and ALWAYS reaches with his left. Seriously, I have yet to see him put his right hand out for anything. If I put something within his right hand's reach, he'll clasp it and bring it to his mouth, but he definitely favors reaching with his left!

I decided to wait until 6 months to introduce solids. I got some really thoughtful and thought-provoking advice and looked more into why I should wait until 6 months rather than begin at 4. There’s lots out there that really gives good reasoning for an exclusively breast fed baby to not have solids introduced until 6 months, and I’m inclined to agree with it. The caveats are often for babies with reflux or weight issues, and while those were my main reasons for starting cereal and fruits soon, the medicine helps his reflux and I am ok with his weight. No, he’s not a big baby, but he’s more than ample (just look at the chub!) for his frame and I’d rather get all the benefit of exclusively nursing for 6 months that I can. So…won’t get to use my awesome baby-food maker for a bit longer, but all in all, I feel really good about that decision.

Sleep is still not consistent, though we’ve had several rays of hope! One night, he went for 8 straight hours without me having to get up to feed him! The next night, he went 7. The next night, he went 6. See where that was going? That’s the inconsistency…but at least I am learning more about his ability and needs during the night. We had to get back into routine after family visiting for Easter and taking a little road trip with Daddy to Philadelphia overnight and for the last few nights, he's gone for 7-9 hours from feed to feed. I am glad to see some (hopefully) patterning coming out, but I of course am still not getting that sleep! I wake up every so often looking at the monitor to make sure he's still ok, or for the last few hours of his sleep stretch, I am uncomfortable while my body works out his feeding schedule and demands. The average baby his age sleeps between 14-15 hours and he sleeps on average 12-13 hours...I may try to start him to bed a bit earlier to see if we can squeeze a bit more sleep in, but last night, he wasn't all that thrilled with the prospect. So, he may just not be ready to go to bed earlier and we'll just play things by ear. He doesn't give me very many cues for when he's hungry or wet or even uncomfortable, but he sure does let me know when he's tired, so I'm grateful for that.

We had the follow-up appointment with the dermatologist. His cradle crap seems to be doing ok--getting a slight bit better in some places, but worse in others, I thought. She definitely now thinks there is some eczema in addition to the seborrhea, so we will probably be seeing the allergist in the next year or two if things don't clear up a bit on their own. Dermatologists and allergists differ in their theories of allergies and eczema--Allergists tend to feel that allergens cause and aggravate the eczema while dermatologists don't necessarily feel that way but definitely feel that eczema and allergies often exist co morbidly. Either way, he's hit the allergy jackpot with our family, so I wouldn't be surprised with either. I'd try some elimination of foods, but honestly, I have to really work to put dairy IN my diet, and when I eliminate, I don't notice much difference in his skin. The treatment is the same, regardless, and she told us that even though he can't really reach and scratch because of his coordination, it is probably still uncomfortable for him (it's like baby psoriasis and sometimes will even bleed!) so we need to treat him. I always worry about over-treating, but his dermatologist is a mom who is pregnant with another child, and calls Luke her favorite patient. And she's smart--so I don't have any doubt that she looks out for Luke. As always, grateful for the wonderful and compassionate care we have in our medical providers!

Here are some pics from this week and last:

Cousin Zach is so sweet with him!

Luke's first Easter Bunny cake! (Daddy couldn't find the string licorice for me, so we improvised a hare. Get it? Hare?!)

Officially found and am using my thumb!

Cousin Ryan does all sorts of stuff to amuse me!

Mommy is home alone a lot of hours.

Luke had several Easter outfits! He was wearing something new from Maundy Thursday to two outfits on Easter Sunday!

"Hmm...what should we do today???? Loving this warm weather!"

Yep, that's a muffin top. Boy's got some chub!

SnuggleBaby time after bath!

Yes, Mommy commandeers my playmat to hang with me!

Little brothers ARE Awesome!

I don't know where she comes up with these clothes!!!!

She seems to have fun, though, so I guess I'll indulge her!!!!!

The One I Wish I Didn't Have To Write....

To quote John, "There's something especially cruel about going to buy flowers for your dead baby son's grave to celebrate the birth of his brother."

I wholeheartedly agree.

I'm sure I won't even begin to cover what is going on in my mind, nor what has been since Luke was born. There's just too much, and the emotions and feelings are just too complicated and intertwined for me to be able to do more than just get them out, much less be articulate in doing so. We figured that the attempt, at the very least, would give me more 'cry about it' opportunity, and there's not much more than that than we can think of me doing to work through it all.

I should preface by saying I feel a horrendous amount of guilt in these feelings. (I know, what's new?) Seriously, though, when I have this sweet little face to love on and hug on, I realize this might verge on the edge of whining and some who read may feel that I am not nearly as grateful as I should be....I just feel like there are some topics that are not really talked about--with regard to having a healthy, living and breathing child after one has lost a baby--like the fact that the world sort of seems to expect you to all of a sudden be so overjoyed with the blessing you have been given, you are magically healed of the hurt you've been going through up to this point.

It doesn't.

Or, that the blessing of another child who so strongly resembles the child who died is also such a strong, strong reminder of what you'll never see grow in that lost little one.

Or, what you imagined you lost (because you never even got to hold him) in your first child just throbs inside of you and makes your heart hurt almost as much as it did when he died because you now know (sort of) the reality of what you lost and it's a million times worse than you've ever imagined. You realize you didn't even have a clue.

At least I didn't. I guess I figured that I'd lost more and more deeply than anyone, even John, because it was ME who carried Matthew...ME who kept him alive and felt every little kick and jab and knew his personality more than ANYONE ever could. I lost more than anyone, and I pretty much felt like there was nothing I could imagine that would be worse than my feelings.

I figured that all the lost hope and dreams were just about the worst thing I could ever imagine losing. No one but me could know those as intimately and with my perspective but me.

Until I was able to hold Luke. And feel what his soft little body felt like in my arms...what every inch of his skin feels like and not just his shoulder and cheek. Until I was able kiss him and tell him I loved him and know he heard me...to be able to tell him that I would take care of him and let nothing happen to him...to drink in the smell of his little neck and every nuance of every stretch he makes.

Until all of that...and so much more...I guess I just really had no idea of how much I could miss Matthew.

I just had no frame of reference, save my imagination, for what those things felt like...and how desperately, desperately, desperately I still want to be able to have those things with Matthew too.

I've cried more in the last few days over how much my heart hurts than I have in months. I told John it's sort of like I'm losing Matthew all over again--realizing now what joy there is in all that is Luke--and knowing it will not be with Matthew.

It's hard.

Dr. Polko, God LOVE her, said they'd been concerned this might be...especially with Luke looking so much like Matthew...and is keeping an eye on the PTSD aspect. Right now, we are still in the normal 'Baby Blues' stage--where it is completely appropriate to cry because the Target cashier tells you to "Have a nice day," just in response to all the hormones one has raging through.

There's certainly not a concern about postpartum depression right now either--Luke is the highlight of our day and I can't imagine functioning for any other reason right now but to tend to his every need and want. He is doted on, fussed over and loved upon pretty much from the time I open my eyes to the time I close them.

Dr. Polko was very adamant in differentiating PTSD from Baby Blues or Postpartum...and more where I am these days. I am constantly having flashbacks to the days we lost Matthew...more the day, I guess...and the pictures (all I have, really) that we have from that time. There are times when John is holding Luke that I will literally have to tell myself to breathe (sound familiar?) because the reality I am looking at so closely matches the pictures of John holding Matthew as he died...after Matthew died....I hold Luke and snuggle him and literally just cry thinking about what would happen to my heart if I had to give him back too. I can't imagine it.

And that then leads me to John...and how unbelievably difficult it must have been for John to have that with Matthew--a sweet, precious little miracle right there in his arms...and he had to watch him take his last breath.

And give him back to the nurses.

And leave him there.

By himself.

I've always appreciated what John did that night for our son...but I never, ever could have imagined how hard that had to have been. In my most vivid of vivid imaginings, I couldn't come close.

Until now...and that's just barely....because the reality is that Luke is healthy and happy and fine. There is no reason to believe that he would be anything different, and so even though I now have a bit different perspective of just what John lost that night, it's still tempered with the joy I have in a sweet smile Luke gives, or a little wiggle he makes...John didn't even have that.

So....like I said, I am sure this doesn't even hit the surface of what I am trying to put words to, but it's something. I'm trying to sleep when Luke is sleeping, but again, flashbacks and heartache make it hard to sleep. Working on that...I'll go back in a week and see how things are and John and I will continue to see our grief counselor for a bit, especially since it seems there's a whole new dimension to grief we are now dealing with and which we never expected.

They tell you how healing a new baby is. They tell you how joy will fill your heart again. They tell you that there's nothing like God's grace in a newborn life with which you are entrusted.

That's all true.

They just don't tell you how all of that makes you realize, again and even more deeply, if possible, what you lost in that precious child you never get to raise.

And how much that hurts.

Still praising God for my boys...and so grateful for the love and prayers and support of so many. I finally got to look at my email and FB messages today...over 2400!! There's no way I can get to all of them, but here I can at least say how thankful for them we are. There's just something about knowing you are covered in prayers and good wishes and love that really lifts one up in an indescribable way. My cup runneth over.

Now...off to a bath. For Luke, that is. He liked it at the hospital so we'll see how it goes here!

More sweetness....

I'm wearing ANOTHER hat?

Mommy thinks I wear 12 days old pretty well. And look, I found a paci!