Veronica

1952. Veronica is back row, center.

It would take a novel and then some to tell you about my Gram – about who she is and how very much she is loved and everything she means to our family and the legacy she has already left for everyone who has been honored enough to know her. The way I mother my boys is a testament to that. 

Despite a 3rd grade education and English as a fourth language after she immigrated to Canada 93 years ago, she accomplished more in her life than most. Sadly, the past 3 years of her life have mostly been spent in darkness since she can no longer see more than shadows and quiet since her hearing is all but entirely gone. Dementia has taken most of the rest in the past year.

And now she is dying – slowly. Her kidneys are failing and she has a respiratory infection. My Gram is in a lot of pain, despite sedation. She is 99 years old.

My mom called me in tears yesterday and asked me to pray that God would deliver her into His arms, which I did. My Gram has fought her way back a few times over the past decade and I never doubted she would, but now is... different. There is no recovery when your vital organs start shutting down.

She's frightened since she doesn't know who or where she is, and she's in a great deal of pain despite sedation. She's been combative, understandably. No one, least of all Gram, would want this for themselves – so today I am asking anyone reading this for prayers and peaceful thoughts that her passing is soon and as gentle as possible.

• • • • • • • 

Gram has lived an incredible life and with the exception of the past couple of years at least had her wits about her despite living in a dark and quiet world. And she's been happy and surprisingly mobile.

At 96 she was still living in her own apartment with an assistant that came by once a week for baths and light cleaning. She was 97 and living in a care facility when my boys were born and was still quite sentient. A few months later she started asking when her parents were coming to visit and after that things went steeply downhill.

Yesterday when my mom went to visit her, the staff asked for the first time if funeral arrangements were in order and said Gram could pass tomorrow or a month from now. When I spoke to my mom last night I said, "well, it's Gram so you know it's going to be at least 3 months" and we had a sigh and a little laugh, but also it's probably true and so it broke our hearts too.

Dementia stole her away nearly completely this past year. Coupled with her very limited hearing, if she was talking at all it was about events of the distant past. Of course, a great deal of what she had to say was also gibberish, mixed with paranoia and fear – each of these hallmarks of a cruel disease.

Two weeks ago out of the blue she asked about "the twins" which are, of course, my boys. This fairly recent memory somehow surfaced for her and I know how very much she loved knowing I was pregnant and was having twins. We were all surprised that she was able to recall any of it though, given everything. Perhaps it was because she'd about given up hope that I would ever have a child – much less two – when I became a mom. I know how much she always enjoyed stories about them when she still had a foothold in reality and was able to still hear at least a little.

• • • • • • • 

When I first heard the song "Veronica" years ago, I loved the tune but frankly, it didn't strike much of a chord otherwise despite the name. At the time, the woman in the song couldn't have been more different than my Gram.

Over the past few years, however, it's become fairly poignant and never more so than right now.

- L.

PS. There's a story in the picture that I can't quite recall other than that it had to do with some chickens that went south on her eldest daughter's wedding day and that when the photo was taken she was busy thinking about those chickens. Maybe Gamma Rita can fill in the details in comments.

All I Wanted...

*sigh*

All I wanted was a reasonably clear picture of Nate and Seth sporting their new onesies so I could wax poetic for a moment about how fast they've grown and what big boys they are now and so forth. Sentimental Mommy stuff basically.

Of course, what I wanted to take a picture of and what I ended up with are two different things. Sadly, the real world tends to trump Fantasy-Mommy-World more often than not.

About the onesies: my 16 month old future basketball all-stars have been sporting size 24 months of late and with that in mind I only ordered them one apiece since I realize the days of onesie wearing are about over.

These will likely be the last ones I ever buy for them. Ever.

EVER.

*sniffle*

Since I didn't have much luck getting any clear pics of the boys wearing them, here they are sans babies for posterity:

And I think this picture sums up why I'm feeling so sentimental: 

Those white onesies are the very first clothing item they ever wore. Ever.

EVER. 

*lip tremble* *lump in throat* *eyes getting misty* 

My wee babies (who will always be my babies just to be clear) have turned into such little boys overnight.

*sob* 

•   •   •   •   •

While I take a much-needed moment to collect myself (and before Gamma Rita gives me a verbal beating for making her look at a pee-stick for the past week), please enjoy my attempts to take some pics of my guys sporting their new attire. For the record, this was my third attempt (as in three entirely separate occasions on three entirely different days) to take quality photos and these really were the very best of the lot. 

Really.

At least Seth finally sat still, even if you can't see the front of his new onesie. Nate however, was busy running laps pretty much the entire time.

Wheee!!!

The one moment where Nate paused long enough he's only slightly blurry: 

Hi Nate!

Seth on the other hand is displaying his enviable posture to the fullest. As far as anyone can tell, this is not an inherited trait from either side of the family (hence our envy). Let us hope he never learns of our slouchy ways. 

– 'Dis my best slouch everyone. Don't worry, I not go over to slouchy dark side full-time. Is only because I is tired of posing for pictures that keep getting photobombed. I is giving good face here and everything! *sigh* Is OK though. In the end, I not get mad. 

– I get even. 'Dis what being a tough guy all about!

- L.

PS. Of course the "Tuff Guy" onesie is Seth's! How could I resist? He is a pretty tough guy after all.

Prayers Please

Baby Mason was born September 1st, 2010 with a heart defect known as Tetralogy of Fallot. His condition was discovered at 20 weeks gestation. TOF, fortunately, is rarely fatal in utero, but his doctors and parents would need to wait until he was born to find out how soon he would need surgery to help repair his heart. You can read Mason's story here.

His surgery date was set for January 19, 2011 and his family had been making preparations for an extended stay many hours away from home.

Last night Mason and his mommy were transported by plane to the Medical University Hospital in South Carolina (MUSC) after doctors discovered Mason's blood oxygen levels were perilously low. His condition is currently stable and his surgery is scheduled for this evening. His mommy posted an update this morning about their ordeal.

Please keep Mason and his family in your prayers tonight and over the course of the coming days. I cannot fathom how scared they all must be.

- L.

Charlie's Story

An update to A Sad Post: Charlie's mom Katy started a blog dedicated to her son. She has asked everyone to spread the word in order to raise awareness about meningitis.

Her blog, titled simply Charlie's Story recounts Charlie's all too brief life and documents his last days from the onset of his illness until his death. I recommend having a box of tissues handy.

- L.

A Sad Post

Last week there was an urgent call for prayer on one of the parenting boards I'm a member of. Another mommy had received the devastating news that her 3 month old son Charlie had bacterial meningitis and that the doctors treating him considered his prognosis grim. And so we prayed. Candles of hope were lit around the globe. We waited for a miracle. 

Sadly, Charlie did not survive. He passed away peacefully and painlessly in his parents' arms later that afternoon.

And so we mourned. And continued to pray for his family's loss and everything they would have to deal with, especially in the coming weeks. We took up a collection to help Charlie's family with expenses.

Charlie's funeral was this morning and his mommy shared the words she planned to say at his service with us all. She told us that her family would not be wearing black today but rather colors to celebrate the gift of his life. The dress she had picked was red and purple.

A request was made today via a post titled "Colors for Charlie":

If you are wearing bright colors to celebrate Charlie's life today, please post photos!

And so we did.

Nate isn't really a bright colors kind of guy, but he looked festive in a little purple scarf I nabbed from a teddy bear. Seth, as always, rocked it in red.

Rest in peace, sweet Charlie.

- L.

Imagine

9 years ago today I woke up and decided it was as fine a day as any to play hooky from work. It was a lousy job anyway, filled with (mostly) lousy people and long hours in the bargain. I just couldn't face it that morning and so I reset my alarm for 9 AM and went back to bed. The alarm was set to radio and when it went off I listened through sleep-haze to a couple of very jocular sounding DJs talking about a plane flying into the World Trade Center in New York.

I thought they were telling a joke.

Without waiting for the punchline, I hit snooze and went back to sleep. It had been 14 minutes since Flight 11 hit the North Tower. In another 3 minutes a live camera feed would broadcast Flight 175 hitting the South Tower, and for the first time the words terrorist attack would begin to enter the consciousness of a stunned nation.

When I woke up 9 minutes later the jocular DJs were long gone, replaced instead by serious newspeople. Reality gave way to the surreal. Like everyone else that morning near a television set, I tuned in and sat mesmerized while the largest attack on American soil continued to unfold.

It was inconceivable. It was too much.

That afternoon I had lunch with a friend in the north part of Toronto where the shops and restaurants were still open. I remember we looked at shoes.

Shoes. 

It's embarrassing to admit now how little I understood that day about the impact the events of September 11th would have on our lives, but then I wasn't a mother yet. All I wanted was regular life back. I didn't know there would never again be a time like the before-time. Our collective innocence was snatched away that morning, forever erased in 102 minutes that changed the world.

Years later I would take a trip to NY with the same friend I had lunch with that day. We visited Ground Zero and although I brought my camera along I didn't take many pictures. It felt disrespectful. If you've ever been there, then you will know what I mean. It's a solemn place, cast in shadows by the skyscrapers that still surround it; a hushed presence hidden among the loudness and chaos that is still New York. It is full of ghosts.

A few days later, on a happier mission to find tiny toys in a different part of the city, I was again reminded of the events of September 11th when I stumbled across what seemed like an endless installation of tiles from around the world tied simply with wire onto a chain-link fence. The fence surrounded a vacant lot if I recall correctly. Who put the tiles there or how this monument began I can't tell you, but I do know that wall of tiles stretched on and on and was filled with messages of hope and solidarity and remembrances of the day the towers fell. It would have been a few years old even at the time, but still very much intact and cared for, and it was reassuring to see that there are still some things too sacred to interfere with; that hope and healing were alive and well on a chain link fence in lower Manhattan.

Imagine.

- L.

One Whole Week Revisited

Strangely enough, the last time I titled a post "One Whole Week" it also pertained to sleep, but this time is bittersweet rather than an event to be celebrated because last night was the seventh night in a row that Nate and Seth have slept apart.

Oh, I knew it was coming. There were certainly signs and I'm glad they did it on their own terms, but still, I wasn't ready.

This post is my stroll down memory lane because I don't ever want to forget how sweet it was while it lasted. Sorry there are no photos of babies today, and instead just some quickie illustrations I did – but as much as I love taking pics of my boys there's no way I would ever turn on lights in the nursery while everyone is asleep to do it. The crib and "exhibits" are more or less to scale – and yes, Exhibits "A" and "B" are also Baby "A" and "B" and these are the overhead views of how they've slept since we brought them home.

Fig. 01: Home From The Hospital

Look how tiny they were when we first put them in a crib together! They could sleep side by side with room to spare and for the first time I kind of wondered why we'd bought two beds. We ended up using one for daytime diaper changes and playtime and the other was for sleeping. 

Fig. 02: And Then They Grew

This was the new arrangement after the first 8 weeks or so. The babies slept like this without incident for at least another 2 months following, until... 

Fig. 03: And Then They Grew Some More

... we had to start angling them to fit the crib. They were very still sleepers though and the way they went to bed was always the way I found them in the morning. At this point both Nate and Seth still slept on their backs, until... 

Fig. 04: Oh Dear.

... everyone became a confirmed tummy sleeper overnight and that's all they do now. That's when poses like the ones in Fig. 04 started happening, sometimes within 15–20 minutes after placing them in the crib while they were already sound asleep. Repositioning them was no problem and often they would remain back in the angled pose until morning. Well, that is, until... 

Fig. 05: This Isn't Going To End Well

... stuff like this started happening. I caught this pose during a random check and my first thought was, "well, this isn't going to end well" – and yes, there really was that much overlap between feet and head.

You'd think after that last pose I would have separated them the same night, but no, I did not. I kept thinking, "soon", but I dreaded the thought of it and honestly I'm sure I'd have had them bedsharing until they were ready to graduate so let's all be thankful they finally staged an intervention.

Last Thursday night, Seth went to bed as usual but Nate was not having it. This was unusual since they typically fall asleep within minutes of each other – and never more than 15 minutes apart – but there I was still trying to get the Sandman to pay Nate a visit a full 45 minutes later. He was SO tired, beyond tired, and when he finally got dozy I took him into the nursery and laid him next to Seth, but he was still not having it. I put him in the other crib so he wouldn't disturb his brother while I tried to quietly soothe him and, of course, he promptly fell asleep – and I had a feeling as I left the room that this was it, but I also knew better than to wake a sleeping baby so I didn't move him.

And you know what? Neither of them skipped a beat. They were ready. It was just their sentimental mommy who wasn't. It's been going swimmingly ever since.

- L.

Wet.

We're now on the 12th day of teething and so far no sign of white, but today there were plenty of tears from wee Nate. Infant Tylenol did not cut it, Baby Oragel had no effect, and the chilled teether did doodlysquat.

I tried everything I could think of to soothe those sore gums, but in the end all I could do was try to soothe my baby as he cried. And cried. And cried.

I took this shortly after the rain stopped.



As you can see, those are some very wet lashes on my poor little guy. : (

In the end, despite the rocking and the gentle "shhh-ing" and reassurances that, "it will be OK", I think he just plain wore himself out.



How I wish those teeth would get here already.

- L.