In this post we are to write about something we REMEMBER about our children. It could be their birth story/ies, or a moment you shared with each one, or a major achievement they accomplished.
I have decided to do three different forms of rememberance and chose one for each of my muskateers.
For Liam I will recount when he came home from the hospital and I was a first time mum.
For Jack it will be when he was recovering in hospital from his Open Heart Surgery.
For Evangeline it will be a moment that I found defining in regards to all three of my cherubs yesterday.
Liam
It had been ten days. Ten days of pain, fear, worry. We nearly lost you. I still don't think I fully understood that. I was in a daze.
And here we were on day 10 arriving home. I was nervous, but most of all beyond excited. I was a mum and I had my precious little bundle with me. You were so snug in my arms. Such a bubble of cuteness, all rounded and soft and smooth.
The most vivid memory I have of those first few days at home were the fact I couldn't nap, even though everyone advised me to: "Make sure you sleep when baby does". But I just couldn't. I was bursting with sheer delight. I just wanted to watch you as your chest rose and fell. As you snored, your little baby snore. My eyes were fixed on your little body, your cherubic face. I didn't want to miss a beat. I seriously had to pinch myself. My whole life I dreamed of being a mummy and here I was holding my very own babe.
You were and still are the perfect blend of your daddy and myself. Of course you have my cheeks, the ones that need their own postcode. Bulbous beyond compare. Although I think your sister can now give them a run for their money.
Your hair was as white and pure as the cliched snow. I had never seen a newborn with white as can be hair. And here you were my little Norse god.
At that point we had no idea what lay ahead of you or us. We were just intoxicated by the love we felt for you and so the past and the future didn't even factor into our mind.
Those first few days at home were magic. I am glad we did not know anything at this point. We got to enjoy you for just you Liam. There was no Cerebral Palsy, no Special Needs. Not that those are bad things, but they are extra 'things' that will always be apart of you now, just as my diabetes and my depression will always be apart of me. Baby Liam. The most beautiful baby to have ever existed.
Jack
It was day three post op. You had made such great progress after your Open Heart Surgery. Most of the tubes and wires had been removed as your recovery was steaming long. Daddy had to stay at home with your big brother Liam, whilst you and I were sleeping next to eachother in the Heart Ward.
For a 5 month old you were so placid, so very calm.
I sat next to your cot and would lean my head next to yours on the mattress.
I was exhausted, both emotionally and physically, but your relaxed demeanour soothed me, and encouraged me to let go of the stress. It was as if you were comforting me! I was the baby and you were the adult.
I dressed you in some super bright onesies. They had to have the feet cut out so a monitor could be attached to your toe, testing for heart rate, blood pressure etc. I wish I had kept at least one of them. But I did take lots of photos of you in them Jack. I took lots of photos of you and your chest. You even managed to smile for a few of these shots. What a champ.
I even made sure to take photos of your chest before your surgery, because that was going to be the last time you would be scar free.
While other children sobbed, whinged, screamed through out the ward, you just laid there as cool as a cucumber. The coolest customer. I cannot thank you enough for making the experience for me much less painful than it could've been.
Now you can say not only do you have a wicked scar, but you have the coolest attitude any human could have in that situation. You. Are. One. Cool. Dude.
Evangeline
Every morning at breakfast time I line all three of you up. Evangeline, you are in your high chair. Jack is in his booster chair. Liam is in his wheelchair.
There is a mountain of toast. A vegemite explosion. Or at least that's what appears to have happened if one was to look at the aftermath.
As we all stuff our faces I take the opportunity to perform for my captive audience. You are always the most attentive. Hanging off my every word. Your big brown eyes with eye lashes for days, study me, work their way over my face and follow my waving wildly arms and hands. You are not yet a year old. But you are already doing so much at this age. Doing more than your big brothers did at the same age.
On this particular day I started to sing "Old McDonald Had a Farm", as we do at least once a day. It seems to be everyone's favourite song in this house and I love to keep you kiddies happy, thus I will sing Old Mac until the proverbial cows come home. When it came to the line: ".. and on that farm he had a..", I looked at Liam and Jack, waiting for some sort of sound or movement. I mean I had been working on both their speech therapy using this song, so I was hopeful for a miracle response.
"DUCK!" you chimed.
My jaw dropped. I quickly picked it back up.
"Yes, good work Evy, he had a duck", I beamed. I was blown away and so proud of you. But this was the moment I knew would stick in my mind like honey, so sweet yet so messy. You see this was the moment you 'over took' your brothers. This was the moment that their 'diffability' became glaringly obvious in our sheltered little bubble of home. Yet it showed me what a clever little baby girl you are and that is what I know we will always focus on from here on in, rather than comparing where each of you were at that same age.
Each one of you are clever and amazing in your own way. And I want you to all know how proud I am of you.
