Wednesday, August 27, 2008


For the past several months, really as long as I can remember, Wyatt has wheezed and coughed a lot. We have taken him to the pediatrician several times for it. Sometimes they hear what I am talking about, sometimes they don't.
Typically he has an ear infection.
Antibiotics. Re-check. Still infected. Rochephine shots. Two nights of sleep. Another ear infection. Great.

While we were in Hilton Head, Wyatt sounded bad. The last night we were there we ran out of Xopenex and I was not really sure what to do. We gave him all his other meds and called the doctor the next morning. The on call doc said to watch him and bring him in on Monday if everything stayed the same. Of course, things got worse.

Sunday morning Wyatt and I dressed for church thinking surely we would go to the doctor and they would send me out with a new prescription and we would come to church like we have 3 of the past 5 Sundays. Luckily Wyatt is really good, so he can sit with me in church and no one knows that he is there.

This Sunday instead of going to church, we went to the hospital. The doctor wanted to run tests because he has been such a mystery and because his respiratory issues have lasted so long. After tests for RSV, pneumonia and cystic fibrosis all came back negative (thank you Lord) he was started on asthma medications and started improving a lot. After IV antibiotics and observation by respiratory therapists and we got to come home on Tuesday.

He gets tubes in his ears tomorrow. Poor baby. He will be awake.
I can only imagine how sweet Wyatt will be without chronic ear infections. He is such a sweet baby and such a joy to our family.
His first six months with us have gone by like the blink of an eye. Hopefully he will be feeling a lot better in his next six months.

Playing catch up

It has been so long since I have had a chance to give an update on the boys.

Last Saturday we returned from a week at the beach with Nana and Papa. Nana and Papa found the place and we provided the entertainment!! Even though the weather was not nice all the time, we had a wonderful time. Sandra and I took the boys on long walks, Ashley took the twins for bike rides, we swam in the pool, the ocean and the bathtub together. We went to the park and jammed to the music of Shannon Tanner (Andrew did most of the rocking). I napped with the boys, they built us towers, threw ice in the lagoon, fed the turtles a sandwich (their way of saying a piece of bread) and played at the park (indoor and outdoor parks).

Ashley and I celebrated our 7 year anniversary while we were in Hilton Head. Nana and Papa were nice enough to keep the kids and allow us a day by ourselves to connect and talk about something other than time outs and trees being cut down (workmen were doing pruning in Palmetto Dunes and John got a little obsessed with it). I absolutely love those days we can spend together with no one to take care of but each other and no where to be but together. We are very blessed to have each other and it is easy to take it for granted...we try not to, but when you live with three people under 3 feet tall...just trust me. Ashley, I love you so much.

Okay, so back to the update on the bears.
Sandra and I got caught in a rainstorm/monsoon while walking on the beach with John and Andrew. Before the rain started we were collecting shells. Once the drops started, we headed back toward our stuff and within 30 seconds we were getting pelted with what felt like hail, but maybe it was just rain drops coming at us sideways at 35 mph.
Maybe I am being dramatic.
It was bad though.

She and I both picked up a baby and started running (seriously, running. In fact, I have not gotten that much exercise since before I got pregnant with the twins). Andrew was with Sandra and John was with me. Finally, we made it back to the villa!
Thank you God. Thanks for getting us back safely and thank you so much for ensuring that Wyatt was not with us.
At this point, we had switched babies. Andrew was not clinging to me like a little koala bear hanging on to his mommy for dear life. We got inside and he lifted his head off of my shoulder and whispered to me, "Here Mama!". He opened his tiny hand and there was a shell he had picked up while we were on the beach, before the storm, before the run back, before ducking through several parking garages.

He had held on to that shell. Now I will hold on to it...forever. Sweet gift from my sweet boy.

Like Father, Like Son

Ashley loves cars. We have been married for 7 years and I think that he has probably had 5 cars in that time. Don't get me wrong, he does not have extravagant cars, and he does not like to work on cars, but he likes cars. He can look on as a means of passing the time; I prefer taking a nap. He likes something new (new to him); he likes to look at cars as we go on long road trips and comment about the "new body style". Typically I have no idea what the new body style is, or the old one for that matter. I like cars that would be more expensive to maintain for a month than the cost of buying the car. If it is old and boxy with a random color of leather interior, chances are I like it. So practical. Poor Ashley. He has no one to discuss cars with...until now.

John, at 2 years of age, is already commenting on cars. On the way to Mrs. Heather's house in the morning he can always be heard saying "Daddy, whoa, look at that big truck!" He loves trucks, "cool buses", tractors and lawnmowers. If it has a motor and gets you from point A to B, John is in awe of it. Today on the way home John said, "Mama, WHAT is that?" in reference to a convertible in front of us.

Our conversation was something like:

John: "Mama, WHAT IS THAT?"
Me: "John, that is some kind of convertible which means that it is a car that you can take the roof off of"
John: (getting more excited) "Mama what IS IT?"
Me: "It's a convertible, sweetheart. Do you like it? Try to say that word...con-ver-ti-ble"
JOhn: "Conbertiber"
Me: "Yes, honey! Convertible!"
John: "Mama, let me SEE that car (insert Boston accent for the word "car"). I wanna say hey to it!!"

Me: "John, you and your daddy are going to have so much fun together honey."
(About that time I pulled in the turning lane to make a left into our neighborhood).

John: "Mama, WE HOOOOME"

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Love/hate relationship

I have had over two years to distance myself from the NICU experience that I had with John and Andrew...a place where it was not out of the ordinary to see your child get poked with needles, receive blood transfusions, have assistance breathing, etc. By the time Andrew was just over a year old he had only had one ear infection. The problem was that it lasted like 4 months. Our pediatrician said he needed tubes so we were at the ENT a week later getting tubes...right then and the office. They strapped my baby down and put tubes in his ears. He fought hard and emerged beet red and sweating but he was instantly a new baby. I knew we had done the right thing.

We just found out this week that Wyatt needs tubes. I know from experience that they will make him well again. He will sleep through the night again; little Pat Pat will feel better. Even so, the thought of my sweet baby getting tubes in his ears at 6 months of age is enough to reduce me to tears as I type this. I love the fact that there is a treatment out there that will make him feel good again, but I hate the fact that he has to go through this.

Losing a son

I just started a new job recently...a very busy new job at a big company where I only know maybe 2% of the employees. It's very different from anywhere else that I have ever worked where I knew everyone very well, knew their children's names, knew what they did on the weekends and in some cases even knew what they ate for dinner the night before.

Today while eating lunch with 4 of the maybe 20 people that I know, I heard that someone who works there lost her son last night. He died in a car wreck. I do not know the lady whose son was tragically taken from her and chances are that I will never know her. I certainly won't hear stories about what she and her child did the weekend before.

I literally wanted to pass out just thinking about someone losing their son. All I could think is how I would be totally worthless if I were in her shoes. Unemployable. Unable to function except that I would find the strength to carry on for Ashley and my other two babies.
Sitting there wanting to cry for her loss my thoughts went to God. His only son, dying on a cross to save me...and my children...and anyone who accepts him. Absolutely amazing.