Where the Magic Happens

When I was pregnant with Luke we had our prenatal screening blood work come back showing an increased risk for Downs Syndrome. During the time between finding that out and getting a definitive answer Dan and I had a lot of conversations about how perhaps we are meant to have a child with special needs because we know we would love any child and be his or her #1 advocate. 

Luke was "fine." 2 years later…

Enter Jack.

There is obviously a wide range of what it means to have special needs. And while Jack's issues are fairly mild on a global level (diagnosis: Congenital Benign Hypotonia), any child who isn't walking yet at 21 months clearly has special needs. 

I have a child with special needs.

But today at PT something magical happened. I'm not even sure Jack's physical therapist (whom I've now known for over a year and consider a friend) knows how powerful this one sentence she uttered was. "It's gonna happen soon. He's just gonna take off across the room one of these days." I had to hold back my tears. I had been waiting… and hoping… and praying… to hear something like this for so long now. It is heartbreaking watching an almost-2 year old not be able to walk. He is a fast crawler and therefore still chases after his brother, but you can just tell he wants to really be in the middle of the action with other toddlers his age. 

Jack has basically been a full-time job for me since the day he was born. Obviously newborns require 24/7 assistance. Then the delays started happening when he was 6 months old, and ever since then it's been running him from one specialist and therapy to the next. The fact I decided before he was born to quit my teaching job and stay home with the boys is almost eerie. It was definitely a choice I never thought I'd make. I LOVED working. I defined myself by my job. But *thank God* I was home and could take care of Jack in a way that only a mother could. 

That being said it has NOT always been easy. I missed being a professional. I missed having adults to talk to. I missed getting dressed up and having a purpose to leave the house. It was well over a year of going a little stir crazy before I found something that, if you ask Dan, pulled me out of a funk and made me "me" again. I've got my own little side biz going and it's growing and becoming more successful than I ever dreamed possible. 

I was terrified at first to jump in. I never in a million years thought I'd end up in direct sales. I was - and truthfully still am - terrified of sales. But I found something for which I have a passion, so sharing information about my new favorite skin care seems no different than the way I'd share my favorite restaurant. It has forced me to step outside my comfort zone - and THAT is where the magic happens. I am learning new things, having a blast and contributing to my family's bottom line all while being there for Jack at a time when he needs me the most. (And Luke, too. But he's 3 and some days I want to sell him on eBay.)

Life really is all about taking risks in order to get great rewards. Parenthood is the ultimate gamble. It's the most risky roll of the dice out there. You literally just never know what you're gonna get. (And remember, what I got was a kiddo with mild but valid special needs). If I can be a parent, and specifically a parent to Jack, I can do ANYTHING. 

"What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"
- Robert Schuller

5 foods I should NEVER have in my house

This could have been a Facebook post, but really, do my 724 FB friends want to be "forced' to read about my dysfunctional relationship with food? This way I figure you the reader have assumed all the risk by choosing to read this blog.


1. Oreos
When Dan quit drinking I said I'd give up Oreos. I suppose this really isn't an eye for an eye. Had I said I would give up all cookies that would have been the same thing. Nevertheless, I gave up Oreos. For life. I may honestly have a harder time not eating Oreos than Dan does not drinking. A study came out recently that said Oreos are as addictive as crack. Tell me something I don't know.


2. Reece's Peanut Butter Cups
I. Can't. Stop. Myself. when these bad boys are around. If I don't have the actual thing, I've been known to find chocolate and dip it right into the jar of peanut butter. Maybe I shouldn't keep chocolate and peanut butter around to boot?


3. Cheddar and Sour Cream Baked! Ruffles
The exclamation point is in there to emphasize how quickly I can consume these. Poof! The bag is gone before I realize it. I justify this by thinking at least they're baked. However, one serving is 3 Weight Watchers points. The whole bag contains 6 servings. Do the math and that's 18 points. I only get 26 points per day. HUGE problem.


4. Smartfood White Cheddar Popcorn
If you're a friend from back in my Frontier days you will A, remember this and B, have the same problem. (I'm talking to you Angel and Julie!) I am not sure what it is specifically about this popcorn that is so addictive, but I'm convinced it may actually contain crack.


5. Toffee
Butter and brown sugar. Is there really anything else to say about this???


What foods make you forget to hit the stop button? I'd love to hear so I can add those to my "10 foods I can't keep around" list! 

For This Child I Prayed

It's been almost 6 months since my last post. I know this because it was the day before my little man Jack was admitted to the hospital with RSV. Unfortunately that was just the beginning of struggles for him.

We have spent a lot of time at Lurie Children's Hospital. When Dan was working on the new hospital before it opened (Luke was 1 1/2 and I was pregnant with Jack), he said, "It's the most amazing place I hope we never have to go." If my life were a book or a movie I'd say the author was utilizing a literary technique called foreshadowing. 

In the weeks and months that followed, Jack missed gross motor milestones; he would start weekly physical therapy sessions, consult with speech therapists and have scopes done in conjunction with ENT for feeding issues which determined he was at risk of aspirating, be put on Prevacid for "silent reflux" (WTF?), and ultimately end up being evaluated by a neurologist.

Let me tell you how it feels to be told your child, your personal miracle, should see a neurologist.

Heart. Breaking.

Earth. Shattering.

Jack has been diagnosed with hypotonia. It's more of a condition than a disease. It's a fancy term for low muscle tone, muscle tone meaning "the amount of tension or resistance to stretch in a muscle." The neurologist actually said, "He's just a little floppy and will probably outgrow it," while at the same time running THOUSANDS of dollars worth of tests, some of which were sent to Mayo Clinic. 

EVERY single medical professional including a few who are also "framily" (friends who are family) has told us, "He'll be fine. He's okay." While I trust them all, as Jack's mama it's hard to believe. A kid who isn't expected to walk until he's 18-24 months old does not seem "okay" and "fine" to me. 

But, in the long run as long as nothing else is actually wrong, it is accurate to say that Jack will be fine. He may never be a professional athlete. He may not learn to ride a bike until he's 7. He'll probably have poor handwriting. But eventually he will walk and talk and to the passive bystander he will look no different than the other kids. 

I actually think Luke may be on the low average side of muscle tone. He sat up and walked on the late side of typical, doesn't articulate as clearly as others his age, and certainly falls down more than other kids. Dan also thinks Luke isn't super athletic. 

While I was at my own physical therapy yesterday (for issues I have related to delivering my two miracles) I asked the PT if she thought I had low tone. Her response was, "It's possible. Your muscles certainly don't activate quickly." Huh. Well there it is. I knew it wasn't genetic from Dan. While he may not currently be in the best shape of his life he used to be a semi-pro baseball player. My father (a minor league ball player) described Dan's athleticism and skill by saying, "He just has an instinct. He knows where the ball is going and he's there." I now realize Dan has some sort of freaky weird muscle memory and high tone that reacts much quicker than the other 3 members of our family. Sorry L & J. My bad. 

It was recently suggested to me by someone in Dan's family that "we don't know what it's like to struggle." I can't tell you how offended I was by this comment. To say the wheels came off the bus and I went ballistic cuckoo for cocoa puffs would be an understatement. My child is seeing a neurologist. And even if he weren't, EVERYONE struggles. What an ignorant thought. 

Nevertheless, I want to make it very clear that I understand completely there are other kids and parents who are in far worse predicaments than we are with Jack. I do not for one minute want to compare us to someone who's watching their child fight a potentially fatal disease or illness or to anyone who's been told their child has autism. 

But as a parent you want/hope/beg/plead/pray to God that your child will be perfectly healthy. Anything less than that is gut-wrenching.

So for now we will continue weekly PT and most likely start speech therapy within a few months (late walkers tend to be late talkers). I will also continue to pray that my baby is not in any pain and that he will be a happy little guy. Just like this...

For this child I prayed, and the Lord answered my prayer.

1 Samuel 1:27

It Never Ends

We just completed a week of potty training boot camp. That is to say Luke uses the potty most of the time. There are accidents ahead, for sure. But the work itself is done. 

Phew. That was hella hard. I almost had several nervous breakdowns. Glad it's over.

Wait. Damn it, I'll have to do this with Jack, too.

See, I'm the type of person who is always thinking (Dan would say "worried") about when we'll be done with all the tedious chores of parenthood and when we can start really living. 

Hmmm. 

That quote from the movie Parenthood seems fitting here:
"There is no end zone. You never cross the goal line, spike the ball and do your touchdown dance. Never."

Hmmm.

Yes, that's true. When Luke was born, Dan and I were literally terrified of just keeping him alive. It moved from that to sleep training to solid foods to bottle weaning to big boy bed to potty training to... 

Huh? I guess it really doesn't end. 

The teacher part of me literally just realized that there are plenty of hurdles ahead - learning to count, learning to read, multiplication, ACTs. This brought forth the epiphany that Luke and Jack are going to strike out in little league and have their hearts broken more than once. 

It never ends.

In 2013 I'm going to try very hard to live in the moment and enjoy whatever stage my boys happen to be in. One day all too soon they will be grown up. I don't want to look back and think about how I wished away all that time waiting for our life to begin. It's already begun.

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
-Ferris Bueller


~Cin

2012: The Year in Review

I know, I haven't posted in a long time. Like, since August. Sorry. (That's to myself.) Let's just say it's been crazy busy around here. It makes me feel slightly better and also worse that I have started writing at least 3 other posts but haven't had time to finish them. So this post is going to be a hunker-down, get-it-done, not word-smithed-to-death kind of post. Hopefully you'll all forgive me (i.e., I'll forgive myself). 

Dan: 
Let's see, Dan got to go to Riviera Maya for work (what a freakin' joke) in March while I stayed home with then-16 month old Luke while 4 months pregnant with Jack. If you know me at all you know I LOVE to travel, especially to beaches. I haven't been on an airplane since before Luke was born. This should explain my displeasure with this trip. Also, and I really hate to admit this, but Dan is super helpful with the kids. He's an asset to have around. Please don't tell him I think so. I don't want him getting too cocky.

Dan re-enrolled at Northern Illinois University this fall. Most people probably don't know he's still trying to finish his Bachelor's degree after his C-U-Next-Tuesday ex-wife basically forced him to quit. It might take him 5 years to get it done, but he will finish this time. His current wife (that'd be me) would rather see us go into debt than not have him earn that degree. It will happen.

Dan got a promotion this year, and that's great news for his career path as well as our bank account. I'm super proud of him. 

I think the best thing that happened to Dan - and our entire family - this year was that he quit drinking. Long time coming. Greatest decision ever. Enough said.

Luke:
Oh my little Lukey. He's 2. If you have ever had a 2 year old you understand what that means. This morning I forgot and flushed the toilet myself, and he lost his shit.

Speaking of feces, Luke is rounding out the year by completing potty training boot camp. This is a rip off the bandaid approach a la no more diapers, period. He's making it in the toilet about 80% of the time.  We'll get there. (Big shout out to Dee and Linds for helping me with the method and being there for my, "I'm the worst parent in the world!" moments.)

Jack:
My sweet baby J. He came into this world on a Friday the 13th. This had more ramifications for me than him, but it was apropos. Nevertheless, he is a wonderful baby... which in my book means he's a good sleeper! He's super happy and smiley and so so sweet. I feel awful that he's our second child and that our first is in such a high-needs phase. Poor Jack doesn't get near enough attention. It's part of my 2013 resolutions.

Me:
Well, I had a baby, lost a uterus and an ovary, became an "aunt" to sweet baby Ella, quit my job and stay at home with my kids, and I've made some new friends out here in N'ville (you know who you are, and I love you!). I think that really sums up what's gone on with me!

I know in this blog I complain a lot about being a busy mother and wife. Yesterday, while near a mental breakdown due to potty training stress, I realized there are 26 families in Newtown, Connecticut who would give anything to have that stress. I can't really say any more about that tragedy because I still cry at just the mention of it. But those 26 angels have made me realize that every day with Dan and our two little miracles is a gift. In 2013 I'm going to try to be A LOT more grateful for my family and friends. 

But I'm still going to be a little snarky in this blog.

Wishing you and your family a blessed 2013!

~Cin

Livin' the Dream

Anyone with small children knows exactly what the following quote means: 
The days are long, but the years are short. 

I love my boys, and there are plenty of examples over the past few months of when I have wanted to freeze time. Nothing compares to a hug and a kiss from a toddler. Or when he tells you he loves you. "Love love," Luke says. Gets me every time. 

BUT...

Then there are moments when both of your children are simultaneously screaming bloody murder as if they are being physically harmed, both stink and need diaper changes, or both want to eat. Have you ever microwaved fish sticks and peas for a toddler while he's crying and breastfed a newborn at the same time? 

Oh, the things I could do if I had 3 arms.

Most days I just try to get from wake up time to bed time. 

Here's an example of how my days tend to go lately...

1:31am  Newborn cries. He's hungry. I'll cut him some slack and feed him since he did do me the ginormous favor of sleeping for 5 straight hours. Plus I think it might be highly frowned upon to sleep train a 4 week old by letting him CIO. 

2:24am  Newborn goes back to sleep, but I lay wide awake for at least another hour.

5:03am  Newborn cries again. Skip the diaper change and take him straight to our bed to feed him. (Judge away all you first time parents. Trust me, you'll do both of these things with your second.) 

5:50am  Find myself crying because I'm so tired. Husband rolls over, says, "What's wrong?" and before I can even respond he's snoring again. 

5:51am  Make mental note to punch husband dead in the face in a few hours.

7:12am  Just as newborn and I are finally falling back asleep, toddler wakes up crying. Smart husband goes to get him and entertains him.

7:13am  Think to myself, "Don't punch husband too hard."

8:25am  Wake up in panic because I have 37 things to do in the next hour before we have to leave the house for newborn's 1 month check up. 

8:32am  Take shower.

8:35am  Whilst dripping wet, yell at toddler for climbing in bathtub. Toddler bursts into tears and runs away which awakens newborn who is now also screaming. 

8:39am  Dry now, find toddler to make sure he's okay. Quickly realize he's been sitting in a diaper for damn near 13 hours. Change mind about punching husband. Now planning to kick him in the balls.

8:58am  Babysitter arrives to play with toddler. Apparently tells husband about the newest 12 year old fashion trends. 

9:05am  Husband finds me to say I might be the better person to hang out with and talk to the babysitter. 

9:06am  Tell husband I am going to kick him in the balls later when he leasts expects it. The anticipation of death is worse than death itself. 

9:07am  Swear to God husband asks if I'm mad at him. Figure that one out all on your own, Sherlock?

10:02am  Newborn shits EVERYWHERE...EV-ER-Y-WHERE...in the exam room at pediatrician's office. It's all over him, me, the table, the floor, the sink. 

10:04am  Doctor comes in and asks if I'm okay because I'm laughing hysterically, manically even. I look at her and say, "Thank God this is my second!" 

10:28am  Leave doctor and decide to go on a long drive. Newborn is sleeping in carseat and toddler is entertained by babysitter until noon. 

12:01pm  Fish stick incident previously mentioned. 

Somewhere around 1pm realize I haven't eaten a thing all day. 

Somewhere around 6pm quickly consume 2 glasses of wine.

Somewhere around 7pm feed newborn and think, "He might sleep for 8 hours if the wine hasn't metabolized yet." 

Do you know they sell alcohol test strips for breast milk? 

When I nursed Luke as a newborn I was shocked and appalled by the mere fact there was enough need for this product to even sell it. Now I completely get it. They should consider changing their marketing strategy to ensure they're reaching the correct target audience: mothers of 2 under 2!
~Cin

Friday the 13th

*This post is a little serious, a little humorous, but most of all it's just honest. Let me preface this whole thing by saying we have a beautiful, healthy baby boy, and I am recovering remarkably well.


*****************************************************************


So I almost died a couple weeks ago.


Okay, so I was never in actual mortal danger. But it certainly felt that way as my blood pressure was dropping, and I literally had to will myself to "stay present" until I heard Jack cry and saw him. Finally my OB told Dan to stand up and look. I heard the cry. They held Jack over the drape. "He has black hair," I thought.


Dan claims the next thing I said was, "I don't feel well. I feel like I'm slipping away." Had I had enough strength to say it loud enough, I'm sure one of the 29 people in the OR would have heard me mumble, "Please knock me out now."


Yes, 29 people. The "joke" was that when Jack was born there were 30. You ever heard of a c-section like this? Didn't think so. Apparently this placenta accreta thing is rather serious.


"Her blood pressure is too low. Converting to general," I heard the head of Loyola's OB anesthesia department say. 


I remember looking up at the ceiling tiles in the OR while I was drifting away and begging God to please not let my boys grow up without a mother. Dan remembers seeing them stick the tube down my throat. I don't know about you, but I think I would rather do almost anything and be almost anywhere else but watching the love of my life be intubated. Apparently the mood changed in the OR from "lighthearted" to "serious." Dan tells the story that he was trying to wander back over to the table by me while the doctors were trying to redirect him back by the baby. "Over here, dad. Come look at your son." Not that Dan wasn't excited/worried about Jack, but I can appreciate how his focus was most likely on me. I was the scarier scenario of the two patients.


I came to some time later when I heard Dan's voice. The first thing I asked was, "How much did he weigh?" We had a bet about Jack's birth weight. Dan took the "over" of 9.5 lbs - I had the under. And although I am not a competitive person at all (like, almost to my detriment), apparently I needed to make damn sure I won this bet. For the record, I did.


I'm not even sure who told me, but someone mentioned that they did have to remove my uterus and right ovary. Just 'cuz I like the sound of it, I'll tell you the official procedural name for removing an ovary - oopherectomy. Fun to say, huh?


When I realized I wasn't still intubated I was thrilled. I had been told beforehand this was a possibility. However the other possibility was becoming a reality: I wouldn't get to hold my sweet baby for quite some time. Unfortunately I was headed to the ICU because I lost about 3 liters of blood and received a transfusion, and they anticipated having to transfuse me again.


There I stayed for almost 24 hours. Dan would go to the nursery to feed Jack and snuggle with him every few hours.  I'm glad they had this special time together; I'm glad Jack had one of his parents to get acquainted with right away. In-between feedings Dan would hang out with me. I'm a little foggy on the details, but I'm pretty sure his main duty was getting me ice chips. 


If you've ever spent a lot of time in a hospital you will be familiar with "hospital time." (Thanks to Sally's brother John for giving it this name.) Hospital time is when you have no idea if it's day or night, what day it is, or how time passes so quickly one minute and so slowly the next. I give you this definition because that night in ICU it was all of a sudden 3AM and neither Dan nor I had slept. This is either due to hospital time or the fact that Dan's options were sitting in a chair or laying on the floor. 


I'll tell you, you've never known true love until you see your spouse sleeping sitting upright in a chair because he doesn't want to leave your side.


Finally around noon the next day I got released to go to the postpartum floor. The following is possibly my most favorite photo of all time...

Thank you, God, for allowing me to live so I could hold my new baby, hug his big brother, and realize that I am beyond blessed to be deeply loved by and be madly in love with my husband. 
~Cin

Jack Allen Strom

Friday, July 13, 2012

9 lbs, 1 oz

20" long