The Second Time Around

My baby is two months old today.  Two months.  My maternity leave will be ending soon and as I compare it to Annessa's, it's 180 degrees different.

With Annessa I was unsure about my ability to be a mom (unsure is putting it lightly).  My need to do it "perfectly" stood in the way of bonding with my newborn.  I remember doing silly things like sticking a thermomitor into her bath water to make sure it was the exact degree that the all-mighty internet told me it should be.  I ran a tight ship - all feedings were exactly 3 hours apart; then 4 hours apart.  There was a lot of bouncing and pacifying to achieve this perfect schedule.  This schedule was my pathway to sleeping through the night - nothing - not even a trip to the mall would cause me to veer from these internet-ordained feeding times.  Good bedtime habits start early, you know.  Ha! I wish my 27 year old self could see my first daughter's bedtime habits now -- she would be mortified.

But this time....this time is sooo much different.  I feel more confident (ironic how feeling more confident as a mom means KNOWING that you will screw up and being okay with that).  There was no insecurity that stood in the way of bonding with Elaina.  I finally understand it when people say, "I feel in love with her the moment I saw her." Now, this isn't to say that I didn't feel love for Annessa right away -- I did.  It's just that the "Holy-shit-I'm-a-mom" factor clouded all that love until I got my head out of my a$$. As a dear friend advised, I started to take my cues from my baby instead of  baby books written by people I didn't know about babies that were off in some far away land living perfect little baby lives.  Come to think of it, I have know idea where those baby books I read so religiously the first time are at the moment....

The first time around, I felt like I was playing the part of being a mom.  Washing the bottles, changing diapers, giving baths, and, oh yeah, dressing her up like she was my little doll.  I'm not sure when the role-plahying stopped and I settled into my new title of mom, but I think it was somewhere around her first smile....I remember that moment so vividly (which is a triumph for me as Rich would tell you that I have the memory of a goldfish).  She had me at the smile.

With Elaina, our lives were already altered.  She slipped right into our Friday nights at home.  Our family bed (I know, I know...NOT what I planned, but it is what it is.  Refer to earlier posts for very rational explanations of why this thing I said I would "NEVER do" happened.  Next thing you know I will be rollin' around town in a people carrier.)

This time around, I even love her cry.  I know, pathetic, but true.  And you know what I love the most?  Seeing my two greatest accomplishments love each other.

Dear Elaina,

Do you know that your name means light?  That you were the light that shined through the darkness (John 1:5)?

Do you know how much we adore you?  I can't stop holding you, Daddy is mesmerized by everything you do, and Annessa pretends to be your mom. 

Do you know what a calm, relaxed baby you are?  Maybe you have calmer parents than Annessa did (the second time around is SOOO much easier), or maybe you just have a calm disposition. 

Do you know how fast you're growing?  You're exactly one month and 10 minutes old as I type this, yet I feel like you were born only yesterday.

Do you know how beautiful you are?  You have the roundest cheeks, the most perfect mouth and the bluest eyes. 

Do you know how happy you make us just by being you? 

Now you know. 

I love you so much it's unreal,
Mama

What's in a Name?

Okay, so I'm a big believer in finding out the meaning behind a name.  Not that I think the meaning of a name defines who a person is, I just find it interesting.  For example, Rich's name means "Great and powerful ruler" and in this case, it suits him.  It is also his grandpa's name.  I would substitute "leader" for "ruler, " but that's just semantics. 

So, when choosing a name for our second daughter, it was important to me that the name have some sort of meaning.  What?  I didn't know, but I just wanted there to be a story behind how she got her name. 

So - here's the story (I will make it quick).  We knew right away that her middle name would be Ruth.  Not the most beautiful, girly name, but it's Rich's late grandma's name.  The name sounds strong and so was she.  Following the unexpected death of her husband, Rich, she raised her two kids (Rich's dad and his Aunt Betty) as a single mom, living on the top floor of her brother's house.  I have always admired her fun attitude and through Rich's stories about her, I imagine her to be an atypical grandma: throwing pitches to her grand kids and letting them eat Spagettios in front of the TV.

As for a first name.....Now that was tricky.  I liked Eliza (joy) and Alexandra (my imaginary daughter's name when I was in high school).  Rich?  Skyler, Haley and a bunch of other names that we just couldn't agree on.  Then one night, he came to bed and said, "How about Elaina?"  Not bad.  Except for the fact that Elaina is a character on Vampire Diaries - not exactly the story I imagined behind the name....But - I liked it.  So maybe I just needed to get over myself?  Right?

Naw.  I did a little Google research (as any normal person would) and found out that Elaina means "light."  Hmm - light.  Well, now what?  Light is nice, but it's not exactly screaming with meaning.  Until i found this verse in John: "The light will shine through the darkness.  That darkness will never overcome the light."  Well.  There. You.  Have. It.

Elaina is our light that shines through a very, very dark two years.  She is the light that her sister, mom , and dad prayed hard for, and she is the surprising gift from God that we so desperately needed. 

To us, she is God saying, "Here - here is your little light.  You have made it through a dark time and you still believe.  So here is my perfect gift to you." 

In just a few weeks, we will welcome our new light into our lives with open arms. 

Dear Rich,

I don't tell you enough how remarkable you are.  You are the best husband I could imagine - you know when to push me and when to let me be.  You surprise me with little gifts now and then (and it's not about the gifts, it's the fact that you were thinking of me), you make me laugh, and you have this soft side that I love, yet you can be the biggest pain in the ass (which challenges me and pushes me to be patient).  Overall, you are the best thing that ever happened to me because together, we have built something special.

You love our daughters in a way only a daddy could.  They will always have a strong father figure in their lives, and for that, I am so, so thankful.  You are amazed by Annessa and you love watching her grow.  One of my favorite parts of the day is at night, in bed when we re-hash that funny/smart/crazy things she said or did that day.  You are meant to be the dad of daughters.

What is even more remarkable to me is that you do all of this without your own legs.  I watch you struggle day after day with the changes this has brought.  Each day I think about how faithful you are.  You could give up but you don't.  I know we are a big reason that you push on, and I can't tell you how loved that makes me feel.  If I had one wish, I wish "that day" two years ago never happened.  I wish you could run (not that you liked to....).  I wish you could walk through the woods instead of ride your 4-wheeler.  I wish we could go on a walk.  I wish we could walk on the beach and play in the ocean.  I wish you didn't have to think "is it worth it" before you climb up the stairs or go to a new restaurant.  I wish you could run beside Annessa as she tries to ride without training wheels.  I wish you could dunk a basketball like you used to (because I have a feeling you still could).  The list goes on.  I know you wish these things too.

But I can't end this letter on such a sad note, can I?  Today you beat the odds.  You are out bow hunting again.  Is it different?  Yes.  But are you doing it?  Yes.  And the truth is, even though I wish "that day" never happened, I would not chose a different path.  My life is good - it's full of love and I have you and God to thank for it.

I will never forget the phone call.  The helicopter.  Pam.  The wall I kicked.  The family that surrounded us and the friends that comforted us.  I will never forget.  But I will never stay there either.  We have great things in store for us.  I'm not sure what, but there is no one else I would rather be with as I find out.

Thank you for holding on- that day and every day.

I love you ,
Autumn

Magnents

This summer Annessa and I were partners in crime.  We went everywhere together (okay, so most of the time we were at the pool - but it was a hot July, right?).  Anyway, whenever we would walk from the parking lot to the destination, her little hand would find mine, just like staples find a magnet in my junk drawer.  Her little hand fits perfectly in mine. 

So, that got me thinking.  I certainly don't hold my mom's hand anymore, but I'm sure at one time, I did.  When did I stop?  Did it break her heart a tiny bit when I become "too grownup" to hold my mom's hand?

I am fearing the day when Annessa declares she can manage the walk from the car to the store without holding my hand.  I'm sure that day is coming soon as she has already declared herself fit to pick out her own clothes (thus the overly-accessorized ensembles she struts her stuff in), and buckle her own seat belt (which, actually I don't mind at all, especially since in three months I will be starting the car seat process all over again...). 

I guess my point is that I've seen my baby grow into a toddler, then a preschooler, and it has all gone by way too fast.  But, the flip side is that the more she grows up, the more I see who God has made her to be.  She is intelligent, talkative...., friendly and STUBBORN.  She is beautiful in every way. 

So for now, I will savor the fact that our hands are like magnets that always find their way to each other. And when the time comes that she is old enough to walk across a parking lot without holding my hand, I will try to smile and realize that as she grows, more good things are coming.   

Dear Baby No-Name,

As of right now, you don't have a name.  Oh, we've got lots of ideas, but no one can agree.  Your sister....well her names for you are very interesting: Sunshine Rose, Delancy Devon (a character in a Barbie movie I think??), and whatever crazy string of letters she thinks of on a daily basis.  Your dad's picks: very, very normal, common, popular picks.  Not that I don't like them, but I don't think we can have an "Annessa" and a "Jane" for instance (don't worry, Jane wasn't one of his picks, I'm just sayin'...)

And mine?  Well Dad hasn't like any of them.  And I haven't been thrilled about any of my picks either.  The problem is that I want your name to be meaningful because you are so meaningful to us.  I am just hoping a name will drop from the sky or we might just have to call you Sunshine after all.

Right now we are toying around with a name from a character on the "Vampire Diaries" that Dad has been watching.  It's not a bad name, and it means light - so that fits since you are a light in a time of darkness for us, but I am still unsure....I mean, I never thought I would name my daughter after a Vampire lover...

Good news is you have a middle and an last name!  No worries though we'll figure something out sooner or later - hopefully by the time we take you home. 

Dear Baby Girl,

This is the first of many times I will write to you.  I hope that someday, you will treasure these writings as documents of your youth (although I'm fairly confident that at some point, say when you are a teenager, you will roll your eyes at my need to excessively document your life, but I am also fairly confident that you'll get over it). I must admit, it is strange writing to someone other than your daddy or your sister.  You and I will develop our own bond and very soon, I will struggle to remember I time when you weren't with us.

I am so curious about your personality.  I can feel your gentle kicks inside me and they remind me that you are your own person - God created you to be someone absolutely unique.  I can't wait to watch you grow into the woman God intends you to be.

I want you to know right off the bat that you are so loved.  I can't even find the words to quantify the excitement and love surrounding your arrival.  Annessa has been praying for a little sister for over a year now and your dad and I have spent the last 3 years yearning for you to complete our family.  And now you are here and your timing is perfect! 

For us, you are a gift.  A true gift.  Someday you will know the hell that we lived through the last two years and I hope you will realize that to us, your arrival means a new beginning.  I have come to understand that God had you in mind before the accident, and He held onto you until He knew we were ready to live in the here and now.

Love Always,

Mom

This is the moment we found out you were a girl - we were all soooo happy!