Time.

In the middle of last July I felt pregnant.  I did not have physical evidence quite yet but there was just something within me that knew that someone else was in the picture.  After seeing a few negative results from over the counter tests I scheduled a blood test with my doctor's office.  When the blood test came back negative I was stunned.  I still felt pregnant and as the weeks went by I could not shake the feeling. I began to worry that I was developing a psychological condition.  I wondered if my desire to become pregnant was causing my body to create hormones or sensations that led me to believe I was pregnant even though the tests said otherwise.

By the beginning of August I became seriously concerned that I was imagining things.  Symptoms were starting to materialize and in fact, they were too big to ignore.  I told Rob that I was going to take one last test and then I needed to see my doctor to seek help.  But as I suspected all along, the "final" test I took was not really the last because it came back positive.  And that test was really just the first in a series of blood tests, scans, and procedures that became routine to monitor our baby and keep him safe.  In the first few months alone, this baby easily beat out his older brothers by the sheer volume of appointments, ultrasounds, shots, and prescriptions that were necessary for what became a very high risk pregnancy.  

From the first meeting with my doctor it was made clear to us that although things were starting well, that due to my complicated history, there were great risks associated with having another baby.  Even though Henry was born at 37 weeks and was technically full term he was still early and I was given an increased risk of early deliveries after he was born.  Eddie only fulfilled that risk and then some when he was born much more premature than we ever could have expected.  His abrupt birth was the wild card in my pregnancy deck.  Much like other premature births, the exact cause of Eddie's sudden arrival was and is still unknown and so there was no telling how long this next pregnancy would last.

And so, it seems that from the very beginning we truly did not know what was coming with this new babe.  My track record was not much help since it is punctuated with two surprise births, a tragic loss, long hospital stays, and quite a bit of trauma.  Initially, the risks did not seem to matter as much.  Although we worried, prayed, and loved our new little one since the moment we knew he was coming, we did not have cause to truly worry until the second trimester.  By the beginning of the third trimester we were operating in full panic mode and did everything we could to keep our baby in where he belonged.

I became well acquainted with OB Emergency Services at the University of Utah Hospital.  One of our greatest concerns was that I would repeat the process of Eddie's premature labor and I would be too dilated to keep the baby safe.  My doctor was understandably worried about that too so I was instructed to go straight to the ER any time I could not get contractions to stop at home. Between the beginning of November 2014 and the week before Tommy was born, I was in the ER seven times.  

(It got a little old...)

I originally wrote the majority of this post in the middle of January but I was never able to complete it.  At the time, I was on modified bed rest and had been to the emergency room for contractions four times within a matter of weeks. I had just started my third trimester and although it was absolutely incredible to be past 28 weeks (the week that Eddie was born), I did not feel like I could be honest enough about my feelings to blog about them. I wish I would have mustered the energy and courage that was necessary to detail what it felt like to be in the throes of what was to our little family, something very stressful/wonderful/scary, but I could never quite put my feelings into words.  Looking back, I think it is mostly because I did not want to remember every part of that time in my life.  It was my hardest pregnancy yet and it challenged me in almost every aspect of my life.  And to be honest, some things are too humbling to own up to in writing.

But for posterity's sake, I think I owe it to my family to at least make an attempt to describe that important chapter in our family's history.  And aside from the fact that I am taking this quote completely out of context and I have never been able to get through more than three chapters of A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens puts me to sleep faster than Benadryl), when I think of my pregnancy with Tommy I think it truly was the best times, it was the worst of times.  It was a time of the fulfillment of dreams, it was a time of great anxiety, it was a time of unending love and service from family and friends, and it was a time of physical pain, sleeplessness, and sacrifice.

It was a time when these two cemented something that was already special and made it into a bond that is unbreakable and completely limitless.

It was an eerily quiet time, a time of forced rest, great sickness (poor Ed), and snuggles that turned into peaceful afternoon naps.

It was a time to sit at every possible opportunity.

And it was a time for my profile to expand to limits that I never thought I would see again. But most of all, it was a time for us to appreciate time and to be grateful that we had it. 

(This was taken the night before Tommy was born and it was our final picture 

as a family of four. I'm certain that Henry is right next to his dad.)

Big.

Eddie knew that big changes were in the air.  

Although he couldn't read a calendar and know that spring had finally come, he figured that it must be getting warmer because his parents weren't bundling him up in so many blankets and jackets like they used to.  He could also see that more sunshine was coming through the windows in his house.  Last week, he was able to sit outside on the front porch with his mom for the first time in a very long time.  His mom took his socks off so he could feel the breeze in between his toes.  

He grabbed his feet and squealed with delight.  He smiled a lot. 

The next day, he went for a long walk with his dad and his trusty dog Riggins.  It was a little colder that day but he didn't mind.  He flapped his arms and legs in the wind like a baby bird and he enjoyed saying hello to his neighbors.

He could see that things were starting to get green around his neighborhood.  He noticed tiny flowers starting to make their way out of the dirt and it made him happy to see their pretty colors.  He thought that since the flowers were starting to grow and his grass was getting greener by the day, that maybe he should work extra hard to be ready to play this summer.

He hadn't been swimming in a swimming pool yet, but he knew that he would be going a lot very soon.  So he got busy working on his impressive physique.

He also figured that while he would be at a swimming pool that he would likely be eating tasty foods at summer barbecues.  He hadn't had a lot of table foods quite yet but he thought he should eat more to prepare.  So he worked on developing his pincher fingers and feeding himself.

He also started eating more solid foods like squash, sweet potatoes, yogurt, and cottage cheese, and he liked everything he ate...except for peas.

And as he started to eat more solid foods his gums started to hurt a bit.  And then a little bit more.  And a little bit more.  And then one day, his very first tooth started to grow.  It hurt a lot and it kept him up a couple of nights, but he was excited to have it.  He liked to put his fingers in his mouth so that he could feel it.

And he noticed that once he had his tooth that he could make more grown-up noises like "ga ga" and "ba ba."  He loved hearing himself make these new sounds and he practiced them a lot.

And he thought it was probably a good time to master sitting up.  He had been working on it for a few months but hadn't seen a need for it until the weather got nicer.  He thought he should probably try a bit harder.  He is still working on it, but he knows he will be sitting up all on his own very soon.

But in order for Eddie to feel completely ready for the times he could meet his friends and play with his cousins, he thought he should be able to move.  He had noticed that most people can move around without being held.  He was especially interested in watching Riggins walk and dance.  He really liked being with Riggins.

And so, today, he decided to crawl.

And now, once people stop coughing and having runny noses, Eddie has made enough big decisions that he will be able to be outside and finally meet the people who love him so very much.

And he couldn't be more excited about it.

In.

Winter has come with a fury this month.  Not only is the weather absolutely rotten where we live (Utah, the most toxic air on Earth!) but the risk of catching a cold, the flu, or RSV, is exceptionally high.  I can scarcely read the news without a new report about "the worst flu in years" or another whooping cough epidemic in some neighboring county.  With each new report of widespread illness, I feel like I want to put my fingers in front of my face and run away, and fast.

Eddie was born just early enough that his lungs were not able to fully develop in the womb.  A lot of the time that he spent in the NICU was necessary for his lungs to grow and get strong enough.  The fact that he came home on oxygen and needed a little additional help for the first month makes him all the more susceptible to becoming seriously ill from something that is seemingly small.  The "bad cold" that might make me miserable but leaves in a week could turn into something much more sinister in Eddie and could very easily land him back in the hospital.  And so, needless to say, our little family has been on "winter lockdown" this season.

But in a lot of ways, it feels like we have been on lockdown since Eddie was born.  Because in all reality we have.

From the beginning, Eddie's doctors and nurses made it clear that although he was doing well, there was a chance that he could get a virus or infection and need more intensive treatment.  And having already had one NICU baby, Rob and I did not need to hear more than that to be extremely cautious about who visited Eddie in the hospital (which was essentially a handful of people) and limit our contact with the outside world.  Our behavior once we came home was basically an extension of our practices in the NICU: no visitors who were/are sick, no visitors who have been around someone who has been sick, no small children, and lots and lots of hand washing.

And now that winter has arrived and we are currently in the thick of the season that we have been dreading since Eddie's birth (i.e. flu season), we find ourselves indoors quite a bit.

Inside...  

...shut-in.

(Insane?!)

It seems that each member of our family, Riggins included, experiences a regular bout of cabin fever.  The driving snow, freezing rain, and yucky air seem to exacerbate our patience and make us yearn all the more for the days when we can go out.  Because walking around the block or the mall never sounds quite as luxurious as it does at 3 p.m. on a gray Tuesday.  And there are a lot sights that Eddie has yet to see and even more people that he has yet to meet.

But it is obvious why we are in as often as we are.  And we are clearly on his team and by his side.

We will just be all the happier when we can go out together.