When I sit and think back on the past 6 1/2 years I think about the joy, pain, tears, temper tantrums, screaming, laughter, learning, therapy and joy. The list could go on and on. I’m pretty sure that all of those things would make the list when parents think about the early years.
I’m reflecting on Addison because it amazes us at how far he has come.
On a Thursday afternoon, two weeks before my due date, I went in for a check up. I had been going in twice a week for a few weeks because my amniotic fluid was low and the Dr. wanted to keep an eye on it. So I had my ultrasound and while I was wondering where we were going to eat that night the Dr. told me that the fluid was getting on the low side and she wanted us to go to the hospital that afternoon so they could start a drip and get labor going and by this time tomorrow we would have a baby. What?! This is how it went…
Dr.: Your fluid is getting too low so I want you and your husband to check into the hospital at 3:00 so we can start you on a pitocin drip.
Dr.: We need to induce labor today.
Me: What? Why?
Dr.: The amniotic fluid is getting too low. So let’s go have this baby.
Me: No. I’m not ready.
Dr. Sorry, this is what we need to do.
Dr. Well, you could spend all weekend on the couch drinking water and we could check you again on Monday but I think the result will be the same. You need to go check into the hospital at 3:00.
Dr.: I’m calling your husband.
She did call my husband and we did check into the hospital that afternoon and by the next day we had our sweet little Addison.
I was NOT ready to be a mom. I know I had 9 months to prepare but basking in the glow of pregnancy and washing tiny onesies in overpriced detergent is one thing. Taking a baby home and being responsible for it for the next 18 years and making sure it grows up into a responsible adult who will love his wife and recycles is another. But what are you gonna do…we made a conscious decision to have a baby and that’s what we got.
He was a very happy baby and toddler. Sure he was fussy some of the time (a lot of fussy when he was a toddler) but when he was happy he was on top of the world. He was one of those babies who needed to be on a schedule. He was a great napper as long as we were in the crib at the prescribed time and at least two pacifiers. He took two naps a day for what seemed like quite a while. Somewhere between year one and two he dropped that first nap but still napped in the afternoon like a champ. We were chained to our nap schedule but I didn’t mind so much because it gave me a few hours of peace and quiet to myself.
Nights were a challenge. Somewhere around the first year he would wake up with what the baby books we read could best describe as night terrors. He would wake up screaming but he didn’t seem awake. When we tried to pick him up or comfort him he didn’t seem to know we were there. They would last for what seemed like an eternity (probably about 30 minutes) and then would stop as abruptly as they started. It didn’t happen every night but it happened often enough to where if we had to go out of town I dreaded what would happen at night away from the safety of our nest. He was addicted to the pacifier (our own mistake I admit it) and they played a big part at night. Dear Husband and I can recall crawling around on the floor in the middle of the night blindly looking for a pacifier that had been thrown out of the crib. During the midnight search sessions I can remember cursing under my breath, frustration bubbling to the surface at the predicament. I hated that damn paci but was too afraid of what would happen if we took it away cold turkey. He was 14 months old when he slept through the night for the first time but it wasn’t consistent. He was probably 3 1/2 before he really began to sleep all the way through.
I think I started to get my first inclination that things weren’t going to be as easy as some moms make you think they are when the humming started. When I say humming I don’t mean, oh, how cute, that baby is humming a little song. No, it was an incessant nonstop monotone humming/whining noise what he would make whenever he was cranky or wanted something but couldn’t tell me (because he couldn’t talk), or was getting overly tired. He did it when he was over stimulated or under stimulated. Mostly when he was cranky. It drove me crazy. I would rather hear him cry or scream. Anything but the humming.
Then we hit the 17 month mark and the proverbial $h!t hit the fan.
To be continued.