Three. In seven days from now. Here it comes. That feeling that I've heard various moms mention. I know this isn't about me. Ultimately, I'm ecstatic for the boy you've grown to be. At the same time, three has hit me. So this is what "bittersweet" feels like.
You were born at OU Medical Center. The hospital has a level 1 trauma center, but in the Women and Newborn Pavilion there's no general nursery for healthy babies. So you stayed in my hospital room with me. (I wouldn't have it any other way. The same with your brother.) Daddy and Cole were staying at home, so it was just you and I in the hospital room. Pure bliss. It was quiet. I am now a mommy of two and I was savoring every moment I got to spend with you alone.
When you were approximately 12 hours old, I was in my bed on the computer (shocker, I know), and I heard you cough for the first time. Then you froze. Then you turned blue. From head to toe. That fast. I jumped up faster than I've ever moved before and rushed over to your bassinet. I will never forget the lips. I ran you down the hall to the nurses' station, and my nurse unclogged whatever it was constricting your breathing. Then you automatically were the pretty pink baby I knew. The nurse took you to peds and had you checked out and everything was fine. Not having ANY medical training, I'm still not exactly sure what happened. But mother's intuition trumps all statistics in a situation like this, and I never placed you on your "back to sleep" after that. Until you could reposition yourself, you were always placed on your side.
You were also jaundiced. And the hospital "tanning bed" kept malfunctioning and would turn off, so I stayed awake most of the hospital stay to make sure you were getting the light you need. I don't remember wanting to sleep. We also had to have bili lights on you for a week after you came home. It never seemed to bother you. It was warm. And I couldn't wait for the timer to go off that I could get you out and hold you. After you came off the lights, I got horribly sick. I don't exactly know what it was, but fever, achy, couldn't get out of bed sick. Funny how God waited until you were healthy before my own body gave in. He is merciful like that.
You were what I call a sensitive baby. You were cautious, nervous, and at times seems unsure of this world. You got startled easy. You hated car rides. But you LOVED cuddling with Mommy. And Daddy. When you were about five months old, we went to visit Daddy in Woodward. (2008 was a BIG year for the oilfield and Daddy was on location most of that year. But I was enormously blessed that I was able to stay home with you the first six months.) On that visit, I remember that even though you weren't around Daddy on a daily basis, you recognized his voice. And when he held you, you went right to sleep.
Fast forward almost three years, and, in this family, you didn't stand a chance at being sensitive, nervous, and unsure. You are a pistol. (You're the one Daddy says we'll be bailing out of jail some day). Hopefully not, but you are definitely hard-headed. And sweet. And stubborn. And lovey. And testing. And a cuddler. You're a cowboy. You're letting go of your cowboy hat some here of late, but you wore it recently for about six months straight. No kidding. Even to bed.
We love you, we're proud of you, and we can't wait to celebrate the big THREE with you next Saturday.
Love you more than you'll ever know.
Mommy
"I prayed for this child. The Lord answered my prayer and gave him to me." 1 Sam 1:27
This is so sweet Lana! I remember the day Lane was born so well. You were talking to me on the computer when he stopped breathing. Very scary. I love that he's turned into such a little pistol and the bailing out of jail bit you mentioned is so funny. He looks so much like you too! :)
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