Matthew's Early Intervention Appointment

Yesterday the ladies from the local EI came to spend some time with Matthew (19 1/2 months) and evaluate his for his qualification in the programs. I had called last month after telling our pediatrician I was concerned with his speech. He had had a few words at 12 months but "lost" all of them after he started walking and hasn't really gained any of the words back. He currently only says mama, daddy, Austin and Riley (his versions anyway). The words he does use are very random and more of him just being told to say it, so he's repeating the sounds. He never initiates those words and it seems as though he doesn't recognize that the word Mama means me, or that daddy is daddy. If that makes any sense. Now his understanding of words that I say to him is excellent. He can follow directions. He knows what we're saying and responds appropriately to our words.

So the three girls came over yesterday and spent time playing with him and talking to him and just getting a grasp at where he's at. They noticed that when he does make sounds, he barely moves his mouth. Most of his sounds are just him flicking his tongue around. One sound he makes all the time is "tickatickaticka". If you say that, you'll notice that your lips aren't really moving. The evaluated him on all kinds of skills. His gross and fine motor skills are right on cue with his age. His cognitive skills and social skills are also right on target. As is his receptive language skills. His problems? Adaptive skills like dressing/undressing, using a fork, etc. But more than that is his expressive language skills.

This was pretty much exactly what I expected. However what I wasn't quite prepared for was for them telling me at what level he was on with his receptive language. My 19 1/2 month old has the expressive verbal skills of an 8-10 month old baby! That's a bit devastating! I am thankful that I pushed the issue and sought out help so that he wasn't 3 when he finally starts getting help.

So our plan is to get with a speech therapist in the next week or so and he'll start speech therapy every other week. At 6 months we'll reevaluate and see where he is and what course we should travel on. We're also going to start sign language with him to see if that will help him communicate with us.

That's our plan. It scares me a bit (ok it scares me a lot) but I'm thankful that we're catching it early and doing something about it. I don't know what his "official" problem is, perhaps its just the weak facial muscles. I'm sure we'll get more of a diagnosis once he's seen by the actual speech therapist. I'm hoping that in a few months you'll read a couple posts by me telling you all about my little chatterbug and how I can't get him to shut up! Let's hope so!!

Love - Day 5

I love federal holidays. Love 'em. It's an extra day that my husband gets off and my kids are home from school as well. It's sometimes hard being the wife of a mail carrier 'cause right now Jason works 6 days a week, 10-12 hrs each day. The only day off for him is Sundays, and on that day he's so beat from the previous work week that all he wants to do is veg out on the couch most of the day.

But on federal holidays, we get one extra day with him! The kids love it and so do I. Yesterday was Presidents Day so of course he didn't have to work. We decided to take the kids to the Whittaker Center, a kids science museum in Harrisburg. Normally the day would have cost us more than $60 for our family to go and visit the museum. However, we learned that on MLK Day and Presidents Day a local bank sponsors the museum and opens it to the public for free!

We called up Jason's sister and BIL and invited them and their kids (Jake, 4 and Summer, 2) to join us. Unfortunately his sister had to work but BIL, Andy, was able to come along with the kiddos. We all had such a blast, even my big kids. There were all kinds of hands-on activities for them to do. We got to feel what Category 1 Hurricane winds would feel like. We made giant bubbles, completed a simple electrical current, learned about our anatomy. We saw an experiment with liquid nitrogen which was awesome. There also was a Kids Place that was intended for children under 5. Andy and I took Matthew, Jake and Summer through that. They played with water, climbed up and down equipment, created vehicles using supplies similar to K'nex. Matthew's favorite area was the Farmers Market where he got to play with plastic fruits and veggies and food. I think I'm oing to have to buy the kid some playfood because I could hardly get him to leave that area.

I think the best part of the day was the egg drop. The kids had to use recycled boxes, balloons, newspaper, plastic bags and other assorted materials to create a contained that would allow an egg to be dropped more than one story without breaking. We all had so much fun creating it. Austin and I worked together, Riley and Jason worked together and Andy and the little kids created one as well. The museum employees then dropped our eggs to see which ones survived. All three of our eggs made it and the kids were all so ecstatic. It was fun watching the others' contraptions, especially the ones that just went *SPLAT*!

We all had such a great time together, playing and learning and just being together. I just wish there were more federal holidays each calendar year. Only three more months until Memorial Day!

Here's a few pictures from our day:

Matthew loved the water play table...

...and the Farmers Market

Riley and Jake learned about Sound Waves

My niece and nephew, Summer and Jake

Riley got to feel a tornado and learn about its formation

Matthew and his daddy

Egg drop!

Riley and Jason and their egg drop contraption

Austin and his egg container

Love - Day 4

I absolutely love having a little person in my home again. It had been seven years since we had a baby or toddler running around here. Matthew has been such a joy and I'm so thankful that God allowed us to share our lives with him. I'll be the first to admit that I love babies. Love 'em. Love the smell of them, the sounds of them (unless its screaming at 3 a.m., then the love, not so much!). I love to hold them and feel them snuggled up against my neck. I just adore babies. Once those babies get big and become real people, the infatuation with them fades a little. Not saying that I don't like children, 'cause I do, but its the babies that get me more.

Matthew has been a bit different for me. True, I miss the baby stage with him and think it all has passed way too quickly for me, but I am enjoying the little boy that he is becoming. He is learning and discovering and its awesome to watch. He gets so excited at the littlest things and that excitement is contagious. Just yesterday I was showing him how to use his spoon and scoop into a cup of applesauce and bring the spoon to his mouth to eat (rather than just using his hands and grabbing big globs of messy applesauce and shoveling that in his mouth!). His eyes lit up when he realized he was doing it himself and oh, we were just clapping and shrieking in excitement. It was such a simple moment that we shared but it was awesome. Matthew is learning new things every day it seems and its all so exciting.

Matthew is such a funny little boy and he knows it. He cracks me up daily and the kid can't even talk yet. Sometimes when I'm just sitting on the couch, just lounging and hanging out, he'll come up to me, pull up my shirt and do a raspberry on my belly. It's so funny and so random and I just love it. And he cracks up when he does it. It's hilarious. What else does he do? He loves to be chased down the hallway, especially by daddy. And the neat thing is that he'll provoke us to chase him. He'll run down the hallway a bit, turn around and laugh and head back towards us, stop and run away again, laughing hysterically. When he does that, you have no choice, you've got to growl at him, get down on your knees and chase after him. Oh the squeals of laughter that erupt from his tiny belly. He is such a treasure.

It's been fun watching him become a person. Discovering his likes and dislikes. I often wonder what kind of a child he'll become. Right now he loves playing with his blocks and trains and dancing to The Wiggles. One day he may become enamored with dinosaurs or cars or all things sports. Heck he may decide he loves to dress up and play with babies (he does love Riley's dolls). I wonder if he'll be shy or outgoing, if he'll prefer to play outside and make forts, or if he'll want to stay inside and read. Will his imagination run wild or will he be more reserved? Will he remain Mr. Cling, attached to my legs or will he decide that he doesn't need Mommy all the time?

I can't wait to see how he eventually becomes but in the meantime I'm truly enjoying the little changes that he's undergoing as he learns new things. He brings our entire family such refreshment. He is good for our souls. He makes us all laugh together and we have all been seeing life through the eyes of a toddler and its been amazing.

I love my Punky boy! I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings with him as a member of our family.

Little Man is sick

Took him in to be seen by his pediatrician yesterday. The cause of all his pain and discomfort? A double ear infection. Yea us! It's his first ever ear infection and of course he's gotta make up for that with infections in both ears. He was put on amoxycillan and we're hoping he starts perking up here soon. At this point, though, he's worse than he was before yesterday. I laid him down for a nap yesterday around 1:30 (after coming home from the drs and the pharmacy and drugging him up). I left the house at 6pm to go to a scrapbooking crop. He was still asleep. Jason told me he woke Matthew up at 9pm, changed him, gave him his meds, and tried to get him to eat something. He barely ate and went right back to bed. I woke him up at 11 this morning! He looks like he got run over a truck and he's still running a high fever. I tried to get him to eat something and he looked at me with the most pathetic looking stare. My baby boy looks so horrible. He refused all food, and just wanted to go back to bed. So that's where he is. He was awake for all of 10 or 15 minutes so far today. I really hope that his antibiotics start working soon.

As for his overall 18 month doctor's appointment yesterday? Well Dr. Carlson isn't concerned about the amount of sleeping he's been doing (prior to his illness). She said that toddlers sometimes just understand the needs of their body and his needs sleep. She said that as long as he is generally happy and active when he's awake, things look good. She is a bit concerned about his speech (or lack of). Actually its more that he lost words rather than that he's not talking much. She suggested I call the local early intervention group and have them evaluate him to see if he qualifies for some extra help. I'm happy about that. Jason and his brother both had speech problems when they were younger and I don't think they had EI back then. So if we can get Matthew any help out there as early as possible, all the better for him. I put the call in to EI yesterday afternoon but got voice mail. Hopefully they'll call early next week.

Finally the size of my little moose. He actually lost a pound since his appointment at the beginning of the month, probably due to his illness and the fact that his appetite has been nil. He "only" weighs 28 lbs and is 34 3/4" tall. HA! He's at the 75% for his weight and the 96% for his height. The boy is gonna be TALL!

Ugh I'm exhausted

It was a long night. A very very long night. A night where only two people in this household were awake all night long -- me and Matthew. It was horrible. He couldn't sleep. He was having these coughing fits that were so bad he was almost puking. He couldn't get comfortable. He was running a fever. I felt so bad for him. I felt bad for myself 'cause I was exhausted too. I slept on the couch so that I could easily get to him without waking DH who had to be up for work at 6 this morning. Thankfully he finally was able to fall asleep and stay asleep from about 4 am until 9. I've been giving him Advil every 4 hours today. He's back in bed for his second nap for the day. His cheeks are flushed, his cough is yucky, and he looks like he got hit by a truck. He's go that "sick look" in his eyes. Poor baby.

But we're hanging in there. Today is not the kind of day where you want to be out driving around unless you absolutely have to. So we're gonna tough it out unless he gets any worse. He's got the Vicks Vaporizer running in his room all day/night. I'm keeping an eye on his fever and his fluid intake and output. If things turn ugly, we'll be at the doctors. Unfortunately, I'm thinking my Punky Boy has the flu.

It's gonna be a long night

It's after 1 in the morning. Matthew has been up off and on all night long. He's practically hacking up a lung. And now he's running a fever. Earlier this evening it was 101.3. I just checked him a few minutes ago and it was 103.0. Lovely. We're having a snowstorm right now that is to turn over to all rain and ice during the day. My van doesn't do well in the snow, and it does even worse in the ice. I don't know if I should call his dr and have him seen tomorrow (Wednesday) and risk the weather, even though he'll be back there on Friday, or if we should just hang tight here at home and get through this on our own. Ugh. Normally, if it were one of the other two who were sick like this, we'd just tough it out unless I really felt that it was absolutely critical that they be seen. But I never know what to do with Matthew. If you are so inclined to do so, please pray for us. Pray for Matthew's comfort and healing and rest, and for me to have the wisdom to make the best decisions when it comes to him and to have peace. Thanks.

I'll update later on.

So am I just a paranoid Mommy or is my Mommy-Radar working?

I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong with Matthew. I don't know if its just that I feel it is to be expected, or if I'm super-paranoid, or if I just know what others don't. Matthew and I have a strong connection. The two of us have been through so much since before he was even born. I always get those feelings that something's not right, and unfortunately, I've been right so many times when it comes to him.

For those who don't know much about Matthew, we started off having problems with his pregnancy right at about 9 or 10 weeks along. I had placental abruptions straight through until delivery. I went into preterm labor at around 29 weeks with him. Was put on hospital bedrest from 30 weeks until delivery at 36 weeks (with a week of bedrest at home). After Matthew's birth, he had jaundice, then lost a pound and a half of weight during the first 5 days of life. He had severe reflux almost from day one.

At 6 weeks, I took him to the ER because I knew in my heart something wasn't right. He screamed a scream I had never heard before, was ashy, and unconsolable. At the ER it was determined that he had two incarcerated inguinal hernias that needed to be repaired immediately. That next day, before being prepped for surgery, he had an apnic episode in my arms. I thought he was going to die right then and there. It was one of the scariest moments I had ever experienced.

During the next few months, he was slow to gain weight, was refluxing everything he took in, and just wasn't thriving the way he should. By the grace of God, and the fact that his pediatrician actually listened to me and my concerns, she ordered an upper GI test for Matthew the week before Christmas 2007. The UGI found something that they weren't looking for. It showed us that Matthew had a birth defect called Malrotation of the Intestines. Its a life-threatening birth defect that usually is only found out after the child becomes very sick or dies (the intestines wrap themselves around the mesenteric artery, stopping blood flow to the intestines, causing them to become necrotic and die). We were so fortunate that Matthew's defect was found before there was any damage. Matthew had his surgery last January to repair his intestines.

A few months later, we were concerned that Matthew had food allergies because he wasn't eating well and was reacting to almost every food he ate. He was tested and at the time all things came back negative. His medication was upped for his reflux, and it was like a switch with him. All of a sudden, he was eating everything in sight. He was thriving and gaining weight. It's been amazing to see. And yet, in the back of my mind, and in the deepest parts of my heart, I have these bad feelings when it comes to him. Like I just expect that there's going to be something else. Like the shoe is going to fall off the other foot. And I can't shake it.

So my latest concerns? There's a couple. The good thing is that Matthew goes in for his 18 month well child checkup on Friday. I'll be voicing all of my concerns with his doctor (who I love love love and would follow her literally to the ends of the earth - or at least within a 45 minute drive from here!) but I thought I'd write them down here too.

Concern number one is the amount of sleep Matthew gets, or I should say requires and demands. He goes to bed every night between 6:30 and 7 pm. He sleeps straight through the night until anywhere between 7 and 8 in the morning. So about 12-13+ hours each night. Okay pretty normal. But within an hour of waking, he's ready for nap number one. He tells me he's ready each time. He'll be sitting there playing or whatever and then BAM, he fusses. If I ask him if he's ready for night-nights he grabs his cup or blankie or paci (whichever is in the room with him) and runs to his bedroom door. He stops at the door and just waits. As soon as I open the door, he runs to his crib and waits to be picked up and put in. He starts singing as soon as he's in his bed and is asleep within 10 minutes. He's an angel that way!! Love it. However, he'll nap for anywhere between 3-5 hours!!!! If I wake him before he's ready, he's miserable and will scream the rest of the afternoon until he's put back to bed. So after his nap he'll get lunch (which lately has been around 2pm because he's been sleeping so long). He eats lunch, plays for an hour or so and the cycle repeats itself. Fussing, running to his bed, singing and sleeping for another 2 to 3 hours. Count them all up and he's sleeping anywhere between 17-21 hours a DAY!! That's not right. It's not normal and its scaring me. His crazy sleeping schedule is also making me feel trapped in this house. We can't go anywhere because he's always sleeping. And I can't wake him before he's ready or I'm dealing with a Grizzley Bear. But this isn't about me. It's about him and like I said, I'm nervous and think something is wrong.

Concern number two: Matthew's cough. He's had a cough since before Christmas. Our pediatrician doesn't recommend cough medicine for toddlers his age. She's recommended Benadryl in the past. For the first week of his cough I used that on him, but it didn't make much of a difference so I stopped. We made it through the holidays. He still had the cough though it was mainly just at night. On January 8th I brought him in to see her, told her about my concerns with the cough (as well as his sleeping patterns). She listened to him. Lungs sound clear, no signs of sinus or ear infections, throat looked good. Sent us for a Chest X-Ray just to be sure and recommended we give him Claritin to clear up the cough. Chest xrays came back normal. We used the Claritin and the cough cleared up within a few days. Stopped the Claritin. Well guess what's back? Cough, mostly at night and when he's napping (which is all.day.long). I started him back on the Claritin today.

Concern number three: Matthew's speech, or lack-thereof. He doesn't talk. He used to talk. From 12-14 months he was talking, not much but some. He'd say Mama, Daddy, uh-oh, hi, hello, Sunny (the dog), Riley, Austin. At 15 months he started walking (yeah, a bit late). Once he started walking, he stopped talking altogether. I expected that, ya know the whole learn a new motor-skill, forget about focusing on others thing. But he's now a running, climbing fool. But he's not saying anything. He doesn't say any of the words that he used to except he'll occasionally call out Austin and Riley (comes out souding more like "Autty" and "I-yee"). We don't talk for him. I don't baby talk to him either. I'm constantly saying "Matthew, tell Mommy what you want" or "Say more please" "thank you mama for the cup", etc etc. I point to things and tell him what they are. He doesn't respond, doesn't try to repeat the sounds. He understands me and can follow simple directions - go get your kitty cat and bring her to me, show me your belly, can you find your sock. He babbles and has a full conversation with me but none of his words even sound recognizable. Its just a bunch of nonsense, with the same sounds repeated over and over.

I dunno. I don't think these things are all related. They're just three separate observations about him that make me think, "Hey things aren't right". The sleeping thing has me worried about anemia or horrible things like cancer. The cough? Probably allergies. The talking? I don't know. I get scared with all the talk about the number of cases of autism being reported in kids.

But the truth of the matter is, I'm deathly afraid that he's not going to be with us for very long. I've had that fear ever since he was a few weeks old. I've had dreams about him dying. I just have this deep feeling that we'll lose him before we should. Like he's not going to make it to adulthood. I hate this feeling. It scares the crap out of me and makes me even more paranoid. Its horrible but I just can't shake it. I don't know if its just because of all the things we've been through with him. I don't know if its just me going crazy. I don't know if it's because I KNOW. I dont' know what it is but I hate feeling like this. The only good thing about it all is that it makes me very proactive when it comes to his health. At the slightest sign that something isn't right I take him to see his doctor. And for the most part, I've been right about things. Mommy radar works here. Which, unfortunately, just scares me even more. Because if I was right about things not being normal which lead me to take him to the ER and find out that he needed surgery, then maybe I'm right about things now.

I can't lose another baby. I just can't do it. I'm not that strong.

Blah, blah, blah

Today is just one of those days. The kind that has you unmotivated and not willing or wanting to do a thing even though you know you have to. One of those days. Today. Oh and it was like that yesterday too. Hmm... come to think of it, it was the day before as well. So its one of those weeks. I guess I have myself in a bit of a funk. Gotta get out of it. Maybe tonight after dinner, when Matthew is in bed, and Jason is over at his friend Sean's house, I'll scrapbook for a little bit more.

I'm trying to finish up my 2007 family album so that I can begin working on Stacey Julian's Library of Memories system for scrapping. I so wish I could afford the money to take her class which begins in the middle of February. I'd give just about anything to take it. But unfortunately, things are tight around here. We had a bathroom remodel in December that cost us about $1500 more than we were originally quoted and we have to come up with the rest of the money by the 30th. Don't know where that money is going to come from, so there's obviously no way I could pay for the LOM class. That's okay. We'll figure it out.

In the meantime I've read both of Stacy Julian's books and am part of a Yahoo message group for the Library of Memories. They're a chatty bunch with lots of great ideas. Some of the members have already gone through the class and have given lots of valuable information so far. I'm hoping that I'll gain lots of info from them after the class begins and they start really talking about it. I feel like a fly on the wall with them. I don't think I've posted a single message but I've read all of theirs! Haha! Perhaps next year though I'll be able to participate in the class. I hope.

Hmm. So let's see. What's new going on around here, besides the fact that Mommy has been unmotivated to do anything? Surprisingly, the house isn't a total mess. It's not beautiful, Good-Housekeeping-cover-material, but its not a total disgusting mess either. It's got that "lived-in" look. Its comfortable, though it could use another decluttering.

I'm thinking about purchasing a potty for Matthew. He's 18 months now, and though I don't expect to have him potty trained anytime real soon, I think it's time to at least introduce him to it. He's got himself on a pretty regular schedule and I'm finding him staying drier longer and longer. I never attempted something like this this early with Austin or Riley but then again, I wasn't a stay-at-home mom with either of them either. I'm here with Matthew all.day.long. I've got the time. I might as well try it. Anyone have any helpful advice or links online to help me out?

Oh I checked out the latest edition of People Magazine at the grocery store the other night. They ran a story about Matt, Liz and Madeline Logelin in it. It was so exciting to read. I've been following Matt's blog since a few days after Liz passed away. I read it every day that he has it updated. You should check it out. Prepare yourself first with a box of tissues for the very beginning. And before long, you'll find yourself laughing out loud, nodding in complete understanding, and enjoying watching little Maddie go from a tiny little helpless newborn to this beautiful baby girl who is so full of life and joy. She looks so much like her mommy which must be hard and wonderful all at the same time for Matt. That man has a heart of gold and you can see just how much he is hurting but knows that he's gotta keep on keepin' on for Maddie's sake. Maddie is very blessed to have such a loving daddy looking out for her.

Crud. Riley is about to get off the bus which means the busy part of my day is about to begin. Gotta start dinner since Jason will be home in less than two hours. Ah, the routine of a stay-at-home mom.

Beauty Day 13

I miss my son, Ian, terribly. The ache and the pain is still so real after over seven years. Today is the anniversary of his due date. Seven years!! My baby boy should be a first grader. I should be planning a birthday party at the bowling alley or the skating rink. I should be wrapping the latest video game he so desperately wanted, or a bike without training wheels, or a new basketball. He should be learning to read and excited about losing a tooth. He should be playing with legos and looking forward to trying out for spring baseball or soccer. He should be here. He should be 14 months younger than Riley. He should...he should...he should.

But he's not. And he never will be. He's gone and that's all there is to that. No amount of begging or pleading to God will bring him back to me. I know that. Trust me, I've tried. I've spent hours upon hours pleading for God to return him to me. To have one more chance to kiss his tiny head. I've begged for the chance to watch him take a breath. To hear him giggle. To wipe a tear from his eye. To sing and rock him to sleep. I want to be able to take him into my arms and never let him go. But I can't. And I have to learn to live with that, no matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. I need to keep on keepin' on.

So what is the beauty that I find in a day that is so sad and hurts me so much? Oh there is so much beauty. So much to be thankful for. And I need to remind myself of that. Of how blessed I am. Of how thankful I am. Where do I even start? What is the gift that Ian and God has given me? How can I be so thankful when I have lost so much?

Losing Ian was the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. The worst. And yet, in so many ways, it was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Seems very contradictary doesn't it? You're probably thinking I must be crazy. What is so great about losing your baby?

So let me just tell you. First off, losing Ian brought me to God. How incredible is that?! What a gift! Prior to losing Ian, I didn't know God. When Ian died, I was angry. Oh I was so angry. How could such a so-called loving God take a baby from a family that wanted him so much? I hated Him for doing that to me. Hated him. As the weeks and months passed, I was sitting in my darkest of dark days, feeling alone and helpless, feeling as though my world was falling apart, separated from my husband and heading towards divorce. My pain was too heavy for me to carry alone. The thought of my son laying in a cold grave, never for me to see him again, made me seek out this God of Comfort that so many people told me about. I began to read my Bible. I began to pray. I began to see that this God had made so many promises to me. That He was holding a place for Ian. That one day I would be reunited with him. He showed me that I was blessed to be the mother of a son that knew only pure love for his entire life. That he was taken from my womb and carried into the arms of God, never knowing pain. My son was chosen for this! He had learned everything that he needed to learn about life in such a short amount of time, never having ever seen the sunlight or felt the wind on his cheeks. I was the lucky one because it was my son who was special enough for this.

Climbing out of my grief and despair, with the help of God, allowed me to renew and strengthen my relationship with my husband as well. We are stronger than we ever were. We are happier than we ever were, and I can't say that would hold true had we not gone through what we did by losing Ian. His death also threw me into membership into the Club. The club that no one wants to be a part of, but that every member is so thankful for knowing that there are others out there that understand the gamut of feelings we go through. I never knew anyone who had a loss prior to my loss. Losing Ian changed the woman I am, the compassion I feel. I have made some wonderful friends through this grief journey. I know that I have also helped a few others just by sharing my story about Ian. What a wonderful legacy Ian has left.

Finally, it is because of Ian that I am the mother of Matthew. Ah, Matthew John, the newest light in our lives. My little Punky, Chunkamunka, and Punkster McMunkster. After Ian's death, I prayed and prayed for another baby. I needed that other baby. And God made me wait. Five long, heartache-filled years. But I know now that I needed that time to grow and learn and to heal. And when the time was right, as God always knows the right time, I became pregnant with my miracle boy. The boy who put us through so much just to safely get him here safely. The boy who had two major surgeries before he turned 6 months old. The boy who had medical issue after medical issue and who is now, by the grace of God, the healthiest little man. Matthew makes our lives so much more full, so much happier, so much more tired (that boy is busy busy busy and never stops!). Matthew is exactly who we needed as a family to recover from our loss and to complete the Halters. He's perfect for us. Perfect.

But he wouldn't be here if Ian was here. How do you live with that? I yearn for Ian. I miss him so much and I want him back. I'd give anything to have him here. But if he was here with us, Matthew wouldn't. I'd give anything, but would I give up Matthew for Ian? How do you choose? The baby that you have grieved for for 7 years or the new child in your life who is only 18 months? The good thing is I don't get to choose! God has made the choice. I get Matthew. I get to pour all the love I have for Ian onto Matthew. I get to watch him sleep. I get to kiss his head. I get to hear him giggle. I get to wipe his tears. I get to rock him and sing him to sleep. I get to!

And one day, God willing, I'll plan Matthew's 7th birthday party. I'll wrap that video game up for him. I'll hear him read his first book and I'll get to see his big toothless smile. I'll take him to baseball tryouts. I'll do all the things that I wanted to do with Ian, and Ian will be right there with us, tucked safely in my heart. Matthew is a lucky boy. And I'm an even luckier mommy.

This post is specifically for Amelia

Good morning sweetie. Here's your Matthew fix for the day. Now have your mommy wipe up the drool from your chin. All the girls dig a bald head and a fluffy bubble butt! Matthew has a message for you.

Dear Amelia,
When can you come over to play? I want some real contact with you, not just pictures and messages back and forth between our mommies. Please baby, I'll make it worth the 1000 mile trip! If you came here we could:

Play on my train table. Mommy tells me to get off the table all the time but it makes a great dance floor. I've been practicing my moves. Can you see my big ol' booty?

Or we could just sit in a box. Do you know how much fun a box is? We've got lots of boxes and laundry baskets. We could pretend that it was a big plane taking us on a romantic weekend getaway! Or we could just pretend it was a box. Either way, I'm happy.

I've got lots of movies. Wiggles are my favorite. I just love to dance to them, especially on the train table. If you don't like Wiggles, I've got Elmo, Dora, and Thomas the Train. I think we have a few stupid Princess Barbie movies from my big sister. You're a girl. You'd probably like that dumb stuff huh?

I like bananas in the morning, so after you get here we can have a snack. Mommy just went grocery shopping so there's more to eat here than just dry cereal and water. Bout time!

Well Amelia it was nice writing to you. Hope you enjoyed my letter. I'll be sitting in my hallway, holding the remote and just waiting for you to arrive.

Forever yours (or at least until I start preschool when I get to meet all kinds of little ladies),

Matthew

One Small Step Away From Babyhood

Matthew will be 18 months old on the 19th of January (where in the world did the time go!?) Matthew is slow to change. It took us from 6 months old until 12 months old to get him to drink from a sippy. And he'd only drink water from the sippy. He doesn't like juice and he refused formula in the cup. I have tried a few times since his first birthday in July to get him off of the bottle. First it took us about 2 months to get him to stop the formula and start on milk. But he wouldn't drink milk cold - it had to be warmed to formula temperature (YUCK!). We got him to switch but he wouldn't drink the milk from a sippy cup. Now at just about 18 months he was only drinking warm milk from a bottle (before naps and bedtime) and only water from a sippy.

Today I put my foot down. I'm tired of the bottles. So I told Jason that today was the day we'd just give him a cup. I prepared myself for a battle of the wills with the Stubborn One. The boy usually doesn't let up until he gets what he wants. He'll scream for hours if I put him down for a nap and he thinks he doesn't need one. He'll continue until I've finally had it or until he collapses in pure exhaustion. I still win because I make him stay in there for an hour anyway.

So this morning when he was ready for his first nap I told him that we were going to use a sippy. I grabbed one of the Nuby brand cups that most resemble his bottle. It has a soft silicone spout similar to the nipple on his Avent bottle. I poured the milk, warmed it to his ridiculous temperature, and gave it to him. Now don't yell at me about the drinking of milk when going to bed. I know I know. It's bad for his teeth, yada yada yada. But one battle at a time here ladies and gents. Let's get this under control first and then we'll tackle that next. Anyway, he laid down, took a sip like usual, furrowed his brow, pulled the cup out of his mouth, looked at it and promptly handed it to me as if to say "What the F mom? Where's the bottle?" I told him that he could drink his sippy but no bottles today. I promptly turned around and left his room.

He fussed for a bit, then started to scream. I waited about 10 minutes and then went back into his room. I picked up his blankies, stuffed animals, paci and cup off of the floor. When he's upset or frustrated he'll throw everything out of the room and then scream hysterically because he doesn't have all of his stuff in his bed with him. Silly boy. Once I handed everything back to him, I told him night-nights and said he could drink from his cup if he wanted milk. Then left again.

I didn't hear from him again for 3 hours (told you he loves his naps). When he woke up I saw that he hadn't drank any of his milk. Okay that's fine. That might just make it easier for me to get him to not take any milk to bed at all. Victory number 1 for the day. No bottle. Refused to drink milk in the cup, but at least he napped. Mama - 1. Matthew - 0.

A few hours later he was ready for his short afternoon nap. Again, I grabbed the cup for milk. Again he fussed for a bit, but eventually took a nap. This time, however, he drank some of the milk. Victory number 2 for the day. No bottle. Drank some milk from a cup. Mama - 2. Matthew - 0.

After his nighttime bath I got him ready for bed. Gave him his medicine, got his blanky and paci and filled a hard-topped cup with warm milk. This would be the real test. I laid him in bed, handed him the cup. He took a sip, furrowed his brow, pulled the cup out of his mouth, looked at it, handed it to me and again gave me the "What the F" look. Again, I said, "No bottles" and handed it back to him. Then turned around and left. I never heard another peep out of him. Victory number 3. Mama - 3. Matthew - 0.

I'm interested to see tomorrow morning if he ever drank any of the milk from the cup tonight. If he didn't, I'm thinking the transition away from milk at bedtime will be much easier. I'm hoping tomorrow goes as smoothly with the cup...

Beauty Day 4

I'm really enjoying these blog challenges. It's making me think outside of the box and I am recording thoughts that I wouldn't typically write about. I can post about how beautiful a flower or my daughter or a sunset at the beach is but there's so much beauty in all of the little things that is going on in my life too. So today I posted a picture of Matthew laying on the floor last month. Doesn't look all that beautiful huh? The carpet is grungy looking, the jammie-jams he's wearing are too small on him, the blanket isn't one of his favorites and his paci is upside down in his mouth. To the normal person, beautiful it is not.

However, let me tell you what is beautiful about this picture. It can't be seen in the picture. It's something only I would know. This picture is taken an hour and a half after Matthew woke up that morning. What's so significant about that? Matthew has himself on a schedule. He runs like clockwork. Now the schedule isn't perfect. He doesn't always wake up at the same time every morning. He varies between waking up anywhere between 6:30 am and 8 am (though yesterday my baby boy slept in until 9 which would have been awesome for me if I hadn't had to get up early to watch Dominik). The clockwork comes in starting from the time he wakes up. Without fail, that boy is ready for his morning nap EXACTLY an hour and a half after he wakes up. This morning he got up at 8 am. At 9:30 he fussed, grabbed his blankie and paci and told me it was time (without using any words). It never fails. He's playing and is happy and that internal clock of his his strikes after 90 minutes and BAM! "Night-night time. GET ME TO BED NOW!!"

The same thing happens for him at night. Between 6 and 6:30 the clock strikes again and you better get that boy into his jammie-jams and throw him into bed. I love it. He's a wonderful sleeper. I've been blessed with three kiddos who loved to sleep as infants and toddlers. We've never had any issues with bedtimes or naps for any of them. Riley was still taking an afternoon nap until she was almost 6 years old! I'm thinking that Matthew may follow in his big sister's footsteps.

Naptimes, sleep, internal clocks. It's a beautiful thing.

Beauty Day 2

Ask just about anyone and they'll tell you that there is nothing more beautiful than new life. And every mother will tell you that their child is the most beautiful. And of course they are right. However, I have to tell you that these pictures of me with Matthew just minutes after his birth truly reflect beauty. I felt love and pure joy after the birth of Austin and Riley, however, the feelings of relief and gratitude in addition to that love and joy that I felt after Matthew safely arrived is unparalleled. These pictures warm my heart and bring me back to the first time I held my beautiful, healthy, living son, Matthew.

Matthew and I had a rough start from almost the moment we found out we were expecting him. We had had two losses prior to his pregnancy, one being the stillbirth of baby Ian back in 2001. After losing Ian, we had 5 years of infertility. I had prayed daily for five years for another baby. A few weeks after we knew of Matthew's pregnancy, I began to bleed. I had episodes throughout his pregnancy of bleeding, abruptions, pre-term contractions. I spent 5 weeks on hospital bedrest. I was given Magnesium Sulfate and Procardia to keep Matthew from coming too early. We had a few scares. And yet, Matthew thrived.

In the middle of July 2007, I began to have more and more placental abruptions. My doctors were torn between keeping Matthew on the inside to bake a little more or bring him into this world with the chance of having medical issues due to his prematurity. But the more and more that I bled, the more and more the doctors came to realize that we had to take our chances and that Matthew would most likely do better to be born early than to risk the chance of another stillbirth due to abruption.

It was so scary. Yes, I was tired of the bedrest. I missed Austin and Riley and Jason. I missed my own bed. Me being in the hospital put a lot of stress on our family and our friends who were helping to take care of the kids. I wanted to be selfish and say "Just get the baby out" but truth be told, I'd rather lay upside down on my head for 5 months if it meant that I would have a healthy baby in the end.

On July 18, 2007, at 36 weeks along, my doctors decided to start the induction of my labor. The first day went slow. They gave me cervadil to soften my cervix and then let me sleep overnight. The "real" induction began on the 19th with pitocin. At a little past 11 pm I began to push. At 11:26, Matthew John entered this world. He was silent and I held my breath. Flashbacks of Ian's birth came to me. The silence after delivery. The pain of knowing my baby wasn't alive. Knowing all the memories we wouldn't be able to share together. No birthday parties, no first Christmases, no first steps, first days of kindergarten, no smiles or hugs or kisses. I began to tear up a bit, reliving all of that pain. I couldn't survive burying another child. I knew I wasn't strong enough.

And then I heard him. Oh the sound of that first cry. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard because it meant that we didn't have a repeat of Ian's birth. I began to sob, uncontrollably. The pain of losing Ian combined with the pure joy of having another chance with another son. It was like I literally opened the floodgates and all that emotion just poured out of me. I couldn't control the emotions. I thanked God over and over again for my little miracle. For giving me another baby. For allowing me to once again shower pure, unconditional love on another human being.