The Second Call I Never Wanted to Make

You know how parents describe the moment a child wanders off by saying "I turned around and he/she was gone"? They say that because it really does describe the instant it takes for a kid to haul butt. Especially if the kid is Wesley.

It was a great Sunday afternoon. We were all playing outside; the weather was awesome. The kids had just finished taking turns rolling down the hill in an old plastic wagon, and it was time to go inside for baths. I walked to the trash barrel to throw away the debris created by two kids and a couple of popsicles. I turned around, and he was gone. GONE. I immediately circled the house and scanned the field next to our house. Jerry took the front of the house. No Wes. At that point, something inside me snapped. I just knew I wouldn't get divine intervention twice. I felt like I had wasted my second chance. Externally, I was calling 911 (again); internally, I was praying (again).

So, then, Jerry was in his truck, checking the canal side, then circling the neighborhood. At some point someone (me?) called neighbors down the street to walk in our direction to see if they could see Wes. I'm sketchy on the details.  Grace was inside. The dispatcher was counseling me to look under beds and in closets. My neighbors were all out looking. I was still on the phone with the 911 dispatcher and the dispatcher next to her got a call. Someone found a little blonde boy on Alabama Road. I must have asked 17 times if he was Ok. He was.

Five minutes later, a non-phased, happy little boy is delivered to my arms. "Mom!" he yells, "I rode in a police car!"

He reported he went for a run. I had been taking him with me on runs; he would follow behind on his John Deer PowerWheel. The cop suggested that was probably not a good idea. I concur.

A first (and hopefully a last...): I called 911

When Grace was six weeks old, she scratched herself in the eyeball, and we brought her to the emergency room. That is the end of emergency treatment for our daughter to date. The rest of her treatment from healthcare providers and emergency personnel is limited to run-of-the-mill ear infections and chicken pocks. She had the Flu once...

Wes is in an entirely different category. I have called the on-call nurse with questions about head injuries sustained while climbing. I have called poison control TWICE (once for some homeopathic thing I don't remember, and once for ingesting CAMPHOR that had been in the humidifier on the TOP of his dresser). Last Spring, we brought him to the ER for "labored breathing." A breathing treatment, two popsicles, and a chest x-ray later, we were $2000 in the hole. Whatever. Today, this boy reached a new level of mayhem.

I took Wes and Grace with two of my friend's kids to the water park in our community. Wes is turning 3 in 15 days. Grace is 4. The other boys are 5 and 7. The water park is fenced--one of those "Water Feature" things that has various ways to squirt kids in the face with water and give parents a break. I had just given the "5 minute warning" to all kids. I was talking to Grace, looked up and couldn't immediately spot Wes. This is how it went down.

Minute 1: Internal voice, "don't panic. He's in this fence. The place is fenced," while I stalk the interior of the water feature.

Minute 2: "he's not in here. Don't panic. He can't be far," while screaming at the other kids to STAY PUT, sprint out the gate and survey the landscape while chanting to myself "Orange shorts...look for orange shorts"

Minute 3: Internal voice: "Dear heavenly Father, please help me find my son." Dial 9-1-1. External Voice "I'm at Veteran's park near the water feature. My two-year-old son is gone. His name is Wesley. He has bright blond hair. He is wearing Orange swim trunks with no shirt. I haven't seen him in three minutes" while running toward the playground where he may have gone...

Minute 4: Plead with 9-1-1 operator to send someone quickly (she's assuring me several people are on the way)...

Minute 5: Blubber as coherently as possible to the nicest police officer I've ever met exactly what happened and that I have no idea how tall my son is but he weighs 40 pounds. Call Jerry and explain to him that Wesley got away from me, I have called 9-1-1, and police are searching the vicinity.

Minutes 6-five zillion: Wait at the water feature with the other 3 kids for whom I am responsible. External voice, "Dear God, I know I don't deserve any favors, but please, please, please, please, please, protect my sweet boy"...

Then kids were yelling "They found him!" and I was running. The police officer I met initially was carrying an incredibly happy Wesley, whom a good Samaritan helping search had found on a nearby baseball field playing in the sand. Wesley said to the police officer, "There she is! Mommy!" then to me, "Mom, I'm so, so dirty! Hey, did you hear the firetrucks?" I laughed. Those weren't firetrucks, buddy...they were police looking for you...

So, I guess I'll wait

Sometimes when I sit to write, the words just pour out of me. The ordinary event turns itself into a story. The details manifest themselves, and the plot and humor unfold. But not today.

My brain is full of the ordinary tasks of the weekend: the laundry, the dishes, the sweeping. It is not to say that I didn't enjoy myself. I took the kids to the water park. I enjoyed a gathering with friends. I watched a movie (readers with small children who don't go to bed appriciate this as a great feat). But I have no stories. So, I'll wait for one to come. I'm enjoying myself too much to go looking for one.

Our Little Guy

I just wanted to take a post to brag on our little W. Last year at this time, we were working with Early Steps because his vocabulary was right around four words. He had chronic ear infections when he was tiny. When, at nine months, he had pretty much had an ear infection for 12 weeks straight, we made the decision to insert tubes in his ears. It made all the difference in the world, but we were warned that he missed out on a lot of hearing in those weeks.

After three months of intervention services in speech and occupational therapy (they had him lick food, move food around in his mouth, and make faces in a mirror), his speech exploded to more than 50 words. This school year, we were able to work with a fantastic preschool who really helped him work on his pronunciation and vocabulary. Now, at almost 3, I feel like his vocabulary is spot-on, but he might need some additional speech therapy. He is just a charming and handsome little guy. His new catch phrase is, "Hi mom, Guess what?" And he loves to wear his batman shirt with the cape. I call him Batman, and he calls me Princess. He loves to sing "Old McDonald" but his favorite animal is an elephant. He does a pretty good imitation.

Paper Towel Micro-Mini

I am now on an every-two-week OB appointment schedule. I guess they figure hey--she's 30 weeks pregnant, what else is she doing? Whatever. I don't want to argue, so I roll on in, and face the scale.

Today was my appointment. I am something like 31 weeks and 5 days. We were not scheduled for an ultrasound or anything "cool," so Jerry didn't go with me. He was at work, so Grace did.

My doctor had been called away to the hospital for a delivery. Would I like to see another doctor? Come back later in the afternoon? Reschedule? I was there. I was dressed. I was even wearing mascara. I had just single-handedly wrestled Grace into public-appropriate clothing and managed to keep her clean from the house to the car AND during the 45-minute ride to the Doctor's office. Did I mention it was apparently monsoon season, and we were both now dripping from the jog (yes, 8-months-pregnant and wearing flip-flops, toting a toddler and a 45-lb diaper bag RAN in the rain) from the car to the door? All I could do was stare at the nurse, trying to think of a decent way to express my sentiment. It must have been obvious, because before I could say anything, she looked me over, turned to her clipboard, and mumbled, "I'll put you on the shortest list."

After chasing Grace around the waiting room for a bit, I was called back. Weight gain? 2 pounds in 2.5 weeks--not bad! Blood pressure? Lovely considering the waiting room Olympics in which I had just contended. When the nurse asked me if there were any problems or changes, I mentioned I'd been having a good number of Braxton Hicks contractions. (I know it was because we just got back from a road trip and I was doing a lot of chasing Grace around in the heat, but I promised Jerry I'd mention it, so I did.) So, because of this, the nurse assumes the doctor will want to check me and hands me a paper blanket thingy, escorts me and Grace to a room, gives us the once over and says, "Bottoms off. " She leaves the room.

There we are. The three of us. Me, Grace, and the paper blanket thingy, which, for a normal-sized non-pregnant woman who is not chasing around and 11-month-old, I'm sure it drapes nicely over the lap.... I can picture this serene woman, lounging fully-covered, flipping through the latest issue of Vogue, waiting patiently for the doctor. Believe me, this was not the picture in MY exam room...

I had to settle for wrapping the thing around me and tucking it, like a towel while I chased Grace around the room. She was due for a nap, which for some reason always results in hyperactivity...So, as I'm crouched down, simultaneously trying to coax her into reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar, again, and pry the mystery medical instrument she just discovered in a drawer out of her fist, she decides that Mommy's paper dress looks interesting. She grabbed a fist-full and pulled. The second her little hand ripped the paper, her eyes lit up. She was either attracted to the ripping noise or the sound of my dignity flying out of the window. Suddenly, the child was all hands. Every time I looked at her, she had another fist-full of paper.

So, by the time the doctor, WHO WAS NOT EVEN MY DOCTOR OR PERSONALLY KNOWN TO ME, came in to check me, I was perched on the floor reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear, holding the biggest piece of the blanket thingy Grace had left me, which was, by the way, no bigger than a cocktail napkin. I just looked up and smiled.

The contractions were probably because I was dehydrated. Everything was/is fine. Wesley is measuring right on track. I'm to keep up the good work, etc. And I pray I never have to look that doctor in the face again.

Grace's birthday is next week. People keep asking me what appropriate gifts would be. Seems to me paper cover-ups pilfered from Doctor's offices would be ideal and cost-effective.

Pregnancy brain is REAL

OK, so I know most of you have heard of "pregnancy brain," right? Where pregnant women have difficulty focusing or remembering? I'm here to tell you its REAL. Lately, I've been really bad...It's taking me longer and longer to get myself together to leave the house, checking and rechecking things I've packed. I've put the salad dressing away in the Tupperware cupboard instead of the fridge. I spent at least 20 minutes trying to find my cell phone and couldn't for the life of me find it only to realize it had been in my hand the ENTIRE time. A woman on my pregnancy board nearly left home without her pants. I hadn't done anything THAT bad. Until...

Grace and I, celebrating our Summer vacation, had plans to have lunch with a friend. My friend met us at our house, and I was going to drive. She parked behind me. She asked me if I had enough room to get around her. I walked to the back of the car, looked, and said, "oh yeah...plenty of room." I then got into my car, started it, threw it into reverse and promptly smacked into the front of her car. Thank goodness there was no damage...but SERIOUSLY??? Is the oxygen in my blood being re-routed from my brain to finish growing this baby?

We're HOW MANY weeks?

Where has the time gone? 27 weeks pregnant is coming up this Saturday. The best part about that is, if for some reason, Wesley HAD to be born, he would have an 85 % chance of survival. Good news, yes, but let's all hope he stays right where he is for the time being...

Meanwhile Grace is walking! Seriously...she is walking and sometimes RUNNING! And she's so proud of herself. And we're so proud of her, too... Its been a rough couple of weeks for her. Starting three weeks ago, when Ms. Martha (the best day-care provider in the world) called me in my classroom and says, "I'm just calling to make sure...you know Grace has Thrush, right?" to which I responded, "Ummm....what's thrush?"

So, one doctor's visit and three prescriptions later, we were treating thrush, the yeast infection that goes with it, oh...and let's not forget the ear infection that somehow snuck in there.

Flash forward about 10 days; the end of the antibiotic. Grace is running a fever and has a cough. We go back to the Dr. Seems her Thrush is all cleared up (on both ends) but the ear infection switched sides? We were prescribed a stronger antibiotic. That was Friday. Today is Wednesday. I haven't slept since then. I took Grace BACK to the Dr today, convinced she STILL had the ear infection. The kid was whiny, clingy, not eating, not sleeping.... No ear infection. Turns out the meds were making her sick. So, because the infection was gone, we ditched the rest of the antibiotic and are hoping for a good night's sleep tonight, and seriously, it would be nice to make the rest of the school year without having to take time off to take her in!

Back to Wesley: I read in some other pregnant someone's blog this past week that being very pregnant feels like being crowded. I couldn't put it any better. I feel crowded. I'm being squeezed out of my own body. Of course, this someone was 36 weeks pregnant, looked like a blond supermodel, and her 36-week belly looked like my 12-week belly, and I hate her. Yet, I digress...

I am still jogging and doing strength training. I had another appointment last week. I only gained four pounds the previous month. I'm very proud of my not getting out of control with my weight-gain. Like I said before: anything less than double the recommended weight gain and I'm golden.

I'm starting to notice the swelling, though...feet and face (I don't mind the feet so much, because I can't see them anymore). Of course I'm watching the sodium, but it doesn't help that everything delicious has a ton of sodium. AND the back pain...I feel like t his kid is ripping me apart, and he's starting at my tailbone! All I can do is stretch, because getting to the chiropractor requires extra energy and also child-swapping coordination, which Jerry and I have not quite perfected yet...

Wesley is extremely active. Grace was, too, but this is different. This kid means business. He's so rough! Maybe he's trying to chew his way out, or something?

Ok, so, next appointment is June 5th, and I'll be doing the delicious glucose test, for the second time this pregnancy, hopefully, with equally stellar results as the last time. (The only reason I can hold that glucola swill down is knowing that if I yak, they're just going to make me drink another one.)

And the survey says.....

It's a boy!
Wesley David is on the way...

We had our Level II Ultrasound scan yesterday, and everything looked good (or otherwise the tech didn't say anything different...)and there were definitely boy parts. The tech was doing her scan, and I was watching as Grace was climbing on Jerry's head (she really was such a good girl...). The baby was coming in and out of focus...I could see a little head then little arms. I saw little feet, then little legs, then the tech rotated the angle, looking at the legs from underneath...and I said, "Whoa...I see boy parts!" The tech smiled and nodded....So, its a boy.

Not much other excitement right now. We took Grace to the beach last weekend. The weather was awesome (a little windy) but the water was much too cold to get in. Let's call this picture my 19 week "belly shot" because no one needs to be scrutinized THAT much, right?
















Anyway, after the beach, we went home and had lunch on the lanai. Here is a picture of Grace after she's eaten an entire banana popsicle....

Flu season is upon us

There is a flu epidemic in Southwest Florida. How do I know, you ask? Well, when I brought Grace to the pediatrician to find out why she's fussy, uncomfortable, and running a fever, the Doctor told me, "Your baby has tested positive for Influenza B. Not surprising; there is an epidemic."

Hmmm. Good to know.

So, poor little Gracie has been battling the flu. Friday night, she ran fever up to 103.9 before I quit taking it. I called the on-call nurse who told me that as long as she is responsive, to continue to treat the fever at home. So, after a tepid bath and a dose of Motrin, the thermometer read 103.9 and I decided that I was only scaring myself. It was a rough night that turned into a rough weekend, that turned into a rough week.

She can't go back to daycare until her fever has been gone for 24 hours. Today is Wednesday and she has been running a consistent temperature of between 99.5 and 100.7. All we can do is give her Motrin. She is coughing all night and leaking vibrant colors. She is so miserable, but still manages to smile with us and play. Jerry stayed home with her yesterday and today. He's such a good dad.

So, this past Monday, I had an appointment with my OB. I am currently in my 17th week (we switch on Saturdays). Baby bean is still right on track. She didn't do an ultrasound, just listed to the heart rate with a Doppler. Everything looked good. I did have to do my sugar test (blech), and the results should be in by Thursday. My weight gain was more than what I expected, but hey...it wasn't double, so I'm proud. Exciting news is I scheduled our level II ultra sound (where they tell us the gender) for March 30th at 3:30!

On the subject, I guess I should mention that I'm defintitely "showing." I'm carrying a lot different with this one, though. With Grace, I gained weight everywhere--and lots of it. With this one, although I'm gaining more than average, I'm carrying most of it in my belly. I'm still out walking/jogging to keep in shape, and I'm doing toning exercises to try to stave off the flabs.

I am occaisionally feeling Baby Bean move. I can feel lights taps and flutters a few times a day. I like the reassurance that comes with feeling him/her jump around. According to my books, he/she is developing inner ears and can sense light, even though his/her eyelids are still fused shut. All very exciting stuff.