Dear Toby and Lyla,
I need you to know something very important - You are the reason I won't be having more children. Your nonstop, constant, ever-present need to have me hold you, feed you, clean you and medicate you. You are all consuming. You give me wrinkles, and grey hairs. You're expensive! And you cry and whine, and scream when the other one is trying to sleep - for that matter - when I'm trying to sleep! You make me want to go to bed early and sleep in late. You climb in the fireplace, and pull down the curtain rods. You take FOREVER to climb up the stairs in front of me when my arms are loaded. You ask to get the mail and then throw it in the street. You choke on itty bitty tiny pieces of food making me forget all logic of how and when to apply the Heimlich maneuver. I CANT dress you without you sitting still, and I get so pissed off.
And I want so many more of you. A whole bus load. I want to have to get a special van that looks like I'm a caterer or contractor, but instead its just because I need enough rows of seats to fit you all. I want 10 more hands to hold, and feet to kiss. I want to cut up 5 more hot dogs at dinner time, and pop 5 more tiny straws in juice boxes. I want to smell a handful more of tiny necks right after bath time, while I'm putting you down.
But I'm not. Because we have this.
This perfect mixture of crazy and content. A little gremlin for each adult to wrangle. The perfect array of shades of blue and kinds of balls, and hints of pink and flowers. We have enough bedrooms, and bathrooms, and budget. We have the right number of seats in our car, and spots in our king size bed. We are exactly what we were meant to be - unequivocally unavoidable, Predestined to be together, Perfectly Imperfect. And I love us.
You are the reason I am not having anymore children, because I have decided to give myself only to you. When you need my hands, there will be one for each of you - ALWAYS.
Love,
Mom
Lets face it - I'm getting the itch
If you haven't deducted by the letter above, you should probably assume that the act of getting rid of every baby item in my home has caused me to have a mental breakdown of sorts. Lyla turns one in a few short days. She hasn't been able to fit in her baby swing in MONTHS, but for some reason I kept it tucked away. You know, just in case. Well, we're cleaning house, and everything's going. I'm feeling a crazy mixture of relief and sadness all at once. A feeling that EVERY mother has gone through but none can articulate the words to make it make sense. The bipolar thoughts, crashing against one another; they're so difficult to make sense of. How do I know I'm done? What if I'm making a mistake? What if there should be 1 (2, 3, 4) more? Give me a sign, that I'm done, Please?!
The world is built for a family of four, my husband affirms. We have a boy and a girl, what more could we need? I nod, and reflect, and honestly, whole heartedly agree - and as I do, a wave of sadness rushes over me. When they don't need me, who will?
So this feeling, I'm gathering, will NEVER go away. This feeling of needing to nurture. To mother. To protect. Not just my growing children, but a baby. I have to accept the fact that it will never go away, and I have to content myself with the fact that even if I had 10 more children, I would still want another one. Unmistakable now is the love of a grandmother. They get to repeat these feelings, and, give the child back at the end of the day! It must be the best of both worlds!
I know that most of the time, I make no sense whatsoever. I write one thing one day, and the opposite the other. But what boring kind of life would I have if I felt the same thing everyday? There have to be bad days so I can appreciate the good days. There have to be sick days so we can give thanks for the healthy ones. I have to WANT more children so that I can appreciate the two I have. Embracing negative thoughts, echoing into positive. Thankfulness for the gifts we have been given. This is fundamentally what I have to adopt, in order to sail through the rest of my life with the dignity and passion my children deserve from their mother.
Thank you God for these Precious Gifts.
Thank you for Listening,
Lindsey
I know what you're wondering and no, I haven't stopped writing - I just needed a break. So far, writing has been a way for me to vent and relieve stress; but lately trying to think what to say has only added more worry, so I did what any logical person would do - I stopped trying to come up with words. Its' been the longest I've gone without a post - a whole month, but it's been a really great 30 days, despite a few minor speed bumps.
Our new Doctor
We had our long awaited visit with our new GI doctor, the one who rounded with us when Toby had his NG tube indicident. We first met with his Fellow (A fancy term for a doctor who's past their residency but still getting experience pairing with a doctor who has a little more expertise in their preferred field). Her hair in soft brown waves, glasses, and plainly pretty - she is the kind of woman who doesn't have a TV in her house, because, as she says, she has a park in walking distance. The kind whose children actually ask for carrot sticks, and legitimately prefer them over cheese puffs. You know, the mom who we all strive to be but never REALLY get there. In spite of this, she's not uppity. Yes she's a Doctor, and yes she actually, probably reads Parent Magazine and follows their advice on a regular basis, but she was as nice as they come. A welcome relief from some of the ancillary staff we've seen so far. Her tone, when she spoke, was of geniune concern, and I could tell, right from the start, she wanted to help.
Our appointment was one of our regularly scheduled follow ups with GI, but because we were seeing a new doctor for the first time, it lasted about three hours. We were interviewed for what seemed like forever, but at no point was I frustrated or unnerved - I really felt like this new team wanted to leave no stone unturned in the effort to control Toby's motility issues, and keep his quality of life as best it can be.
For the most part, Toby's vomiting has been under control. He has a hefty amout of help, making sure his systems stay regulated, and his food stays in. Outside of being completely Gluten Free, this is a one month supply of his nutritional drink.
This is a 3 month supply of his liquid meds
And this is a daily batch.
All of this is at the present time unrelated to his issues with his pitutary gland, which he takes nightly injections for, and has recently started additional hormone therapy once a month with his endocrine doctor - requring another injection to help Toby achieve a proper state of normalness. He is a Trooper, in every sense of the word.
When Dr. K entered our exam room, his loud, over the top personality won Toby and Lyla over immediately. Remembering them both from our last hospital stay, he smothered them with big hugs and kisses on the cheek, and any fear that Toby had melted slowly away. What a precious gift God has given us. Acceptance from a 2 year old - a concept that typcially is considered laughable.
He was very happy with Toby's progress, and cancelled one test we had scheduled to be performed, as there was no need to rock the boat with difficult testing when we were in a very good spot. A different test was ordered to get a good look at Toby's motility in an effort to make sure there wasn't anything being missed. After a good while catching up and reviewing our next steps, we left happy. Toby still asks about this doctor by name, wondering when we'll see him again. This makes me smile.
No Daddy, Bubble Guppies
This is how our procedure ended. In a pile of mush, on the family room floor.
To say it was hard would be an understatment, but it definitely wasn't the most difficult or painful thing Toby's been through. It was, as best as I can describe, awkward and scary. This test was to make sure that when food and liquid passes through Toby's digestive tract, it's going through all the right places, at the right speed, and at the right time. We entered a big room with monitors and machines, and were asked to outfit ourselves with lead aprons. Toby was still unsure and hesitant, as they brought out IPADs and Thomas, and other toys to distract him.
We laid him on a large, hard table, as two radiologist and two techs surrounded Toby - Myself and his father standing at his head. An enormous xray machine was pulled over the top of him and the techs held him down firmly while he tried his best, through tears and screams, to get away. This was not painful, but trying to explain that to a 2 yo who has been through some tough times is like trying to get through Target without buying 1 thing that isn't on your list - IMPOSSIBLE. There was no settling him down, so I chose to inject contrast into his mouth instead of trying to continue to bribe him to drink it on his own. Again, Impossible. Gagging, choking and thrashing, the techs held him down as I took a syringe and filled his mouth, dose after dose, trying to get him to drink enough of the mixture. As it was swallowed, the radiologists began taking pictures of Toby's insides, watching the chalky liquid move through his organs.
And just when I thought Toby had had it, a little squeaky voice chips from the tears - No Daddy, Bubble Guppies - a last ditch effort to get his pops to turn the IPAD from the Lorax to his Nick Jr. Show. Well, at least he has his priorites right! 30 minutes from when we started this charade, we were done, and after 15 more minutes of waiting to make sure there were no side effects, we were given the green light to leave and walk to our next appointment.
Toby asked everyone how they were doing, where they were going, and shouted goodbye, soliciting his now normal ohhhs and ahhhs from the hallways as we walked to our next appointment. Here he played on the firetruck in the waiting room, got called back and stuck in the thigh, and then we all went home to sleep it off. We get the results at our next visit, but from what I can see from the online results - the test didn't show anything too abnormal we should worry about.
So, What else is new?
In other news, we have a few new things in our life!
- We started with a new babysitter when the last one resigned due to a knee injury. So far, Toby and Lyla have had lots of fun, and she's just a few streets over. Not the ideal right across the street - but still great none the less!! We're looking forward to getting to know her and her kiddos a lot more over the coming months :-).
- We got new fancy glasses that transition to sunglasses. Toby has done so well with wearing his specs, I'm astounded. Our visits trying to fit them, now like a circus in the glasses store with an added set of running feet to keep track of. But he does so well with them, and looks like a complete stud muffin. He makes my heart melt.
3. And this one, turns 1 this month. What a loveable little stinker.
I'm sure you'll see a big long entry about her birthday party and all of our shenanegans, but until then we will continue to be happy and healthy, on the right road to being a typical toddler for good. Thank you for following.
And Thank you for Listening.
Lindsey
