5 love letters: dear Grayson

This week, I'm writing to my five children: my toddler Grayson, my three miscarriages, and the little girl nestled in my belly. The one year anniversary of our first miscarriage is the day after Valentine's Day, and while I'm remembering all the terrible things we've gone through in the past year, I also want to celebrate my love for my children.

Dear Grayson,

Before I say anything else, I want to say this: I am so, so proud of you.

The past year has been very hard for all of us, and I know you're too young to understand any of it. Your parents have been preoccupied with trying to make you a sibling. On the days when I've been too sad to focus on much of anything, or too sick to do anything but hold you, or too tired from being pregnant (yet again) that we can't go somewhere fun, you handle it with a grace beyond your two and a half years. I've had to take you to many doctor's visits with just the two of us, and you've just sat back and watched with such patience. When I say, I need to sit on the couch for a moment, you say, okay, here's a toy we can play sitting down. You love when we go outside or to the mall, but you don't complain when we don't.

I know I'm not always the best mama for you, but I also know these moments are so temporary. I'm so very proud of how you've handled everything. There are moments from the past year I'll never forget. When I came home from my D&C, you plopped yourself into my lap and seemed so concerned about the hospital bracelet on my right wrist and the IV bandage on my left. I love holding your hand as we ride the escalator up and down, and I get tickled every time you stop to dance to music coming out of a store.

Today, you ran over to me, wrapped your arms around my waist, kissed my belly, and said, "Baby!" I can't wait to see you as a big brother. You've been so gentle with my belly, and I rarely have to remind you. I know your patience will translate well, and you'll be able to deal with your sister not being able to run around with you for a while.

A year ago today, you bent down to pick up your sippy and split open your eyelid on the coffee table. We spent all of Valentine's Day evening at the emergency room, wondering if we'd have to put you to sleep to stitch up your cut. Luckily, we didn't, but you still sport the scar. Last night, we heard a large bang and then the sounds of you crying. You had somehow fallen out of your crib for the first time, and we were so relieved you weren't hurt! We immediately changed your crib to a toddler bed, and you've dealt with the transition as well as we could have hoped. When you're ready to come out of your room in the morning or after a nap, you knock politely on your door. It's so cute and so very you.

I know we're still dealing with your speech delay. It pains me because I often feel like I failed you somewhere. You did so well with your therapy last year, and I hope we can start some more in a few months. You're trying so hard to talk nowadays, and you say new words all the time. Sometimes I can really tell it's difficult for you, that you have to stop and think about it. You're so smart and obsessed with the alphabet and with counting, so I can't wait to see what your little brain will come up with once you can express your thoughts more often.

The past year has been a very difficult one, and through it all, you've been my constant, my rock. I love to hold you close and breathe in the smell of your hair, the smell that's always been yours. You've helped me get through our losses more than you'll ever know, and I often wonder if I could've done it without seeing your smiling face every day. Having you depend on me certainly helped me focus on daily life and kept me going.

When you're older and can understand, I'd like to say thank you for being my child. It might seem weird to say that - I mean, it's not like you have much of a choice. Of course you have your tantrum moments, and there are times when I want to throw my hands in the air and walk away; you are two after all. I hate having to put you in time out, and I'm as miserable about it as you look. Some days we're both ready for Daddy to come home so we can take a break!

However, when you call "Mama" from the other room, and I'm the one who gets to answer, I really feel as though I'm the luckiest woman in the world.

You'll always be my cuddlebug, my babycake. Even when you're too big to fit in my lap.

Love you bunches and always,

your mama

oh, the places you'll go

We just finished our first round of therapy at KidTalk, the speech therapy program at Vanderbilt University. I have to say, I am amazed at the change I already see in Grayson.

He's had three real sessions, two there and one at home yesterday. During the sessions at the university, we have been learning our first strategies. Our biggest concern right now is stepping back and letting G take the reigns in play and in communication. We've been focusing on back and forth conversation, where we put a word to something that he says. If he's being very quiet, we mirror his actions and name them. We're not supposed to ask questions unless we just really have to throughout the day.

I didn't see a whole lot of response from him until we did our first home session. He just lit up. I'm guessing he was more relaxed at home, or maybe he was paying more attention to the words rather than the cool new toys at the university. But my boy, my little boy with only ten words he'll attempt, said "push" and "ball" for the first time. When he would say the word without getting the first sound correct, she would get him to focus on making the sound and often he'd then get it right. I was amazed that he even tried intimidating. I was even more amazed at his attempts to correct himself and pronounce the sound.

I might have cried right then. Just a little.

His therapist's assessment of him is right on par with ours. He's a thinker and he contemplates everything. He's incredibly sweet and often hilarious. He loves to be helpful and clean up after himself, often doing so without being asked. He's passive to a fault, sometimes giving up too quickly or being too comfortable with how things are, which is at least part of the reason he hasn't started talking much yet.

One thing we learned, that was kind of hard to swallow, was her confidence that he will need even more speech therapy. This program focuses on motivating children to talk and giving them (and their parents) the tools to start talking. She sees it as a great stepping stone to transition G into real speech therapy, where you work on actual phonemes, in the future. I guess I was hoping he'd get it after some practice. People kept talking about that magical switch that would flip one day, and G would start talking like most of the other kids his age. But it doesn't happen like that. My kid has trouble talking. That doesn't go away overnight.

Here is an updated list of what G says:
Mama
Daddy
Blue (buu)
Cheese (geese)
Five (iiii)
Moo (buuu)
Bak, bak (like a chicken, ba ba)
Baa (like a sheep)
Beep (eee)
Boom (boo)
Push (puuus)
Ball

Since he's turning 27 months next week, it's not near long enough of a list. But I'm so so proud of my buggy. He's been doing so well with his therapy, really paying attention and being so cooperative. Most of those words he's learned in the past month, so clearly him and language are clicking better.


I can't wait to see what else he can do in this program. And even if G needs years of speech therapy, we'll be there with him step by step, cheering at every new words he says and every new sound he learns.

talk, baby, talk

If you're wondering why G's chest looks funny in the above pic, he's wearing what's called a LENA, or voice recorder. On Monday, we recorded everything G said and heard the entire day. Yes, I was on my best behavior!

(P.S. G's reading How I Became A Pirate by Melinda Long, one of his favorite books. It's sorta kinda awesome.)

After being denied by our state's early intervention program, despite the fact that G only scored one point in expressive communication, we were accepted by KidTalk! KidTalk is a research program at Vanderbilt University. Part of what they do is provide speech therapy for free to toddlers who need it - in fact, they pay you for the times they review progress.

We've been going through preliminary testing this week as we get ready for the real therapy to start week after next. Mostly, they've been testing him for autism (they do this for all the kids) and getting a baseline for G's speech abilities right now. The LENA helps determine what he's saying right now so we can weight that with what he learns over the next four months.

KidTalk only lasts four months, but I'm hoping one of the main things is accomplishes is teaching me what to do to help G. We spend time at the Vanderbilt clinic each week as the therapist teaches me techniques to use with G. Then we have a session at home where we practice using those techniques.

I've discovered a few things about G this week as he has gone through testing:
- He thinks Play-doh is awesome.
- When a puppet ducky asks to eat his tummy, he obliges by raising his shirt, without missing a beat, sending everyone into stitches while laughing.
- Baby dolls are his newest favorite toy. I'm on the lookout for a great set to get him.
- My kid can go through over 2 hours of extensive play-based testing with only a short cuddle play break with mommy.
- Other people think he's the best kid ever as much as I do.

I can't wait to see how KidTalk benefits both G and me. I see only good things coming from this fantastic opportunity, and I'm so so so thankful to have figured out a way to help out my kiddo.

not a baby anymore (or, stop chasing the girls!)

I don't know what's up with my kid.

From what I can gather, his brain is doing all sorts of growing and developing things right now. And it's making him (and me) kinda crazy.

We realized a couple days ago that he'd learned a new word. When the hubs asked him if he could change his diaper, G ran from the room screaming, "No no no no!" He then stood in the doorway of his room, saying "Nnnnoh!" over and over while we giggled at the funny face he makes while he says it. Well, I giggled and Dave did the more manly equivalent.

Yesterday, on the way home from the mall, he babbled the entire way. "Oh, oh, oh, oh." He loves this new sound and practices it often. This new sound is terribly cute, despite the fact that it means he's being more defiant with us.

Plus, he makes this face when he says it. How can you not love that face? I wish he'd pucker up like that when he goes in for a kiss, instead of his usual open-mouthed slobber kiss.

He's trying out all sorts of sounds lately. Which is a huge deal for my kid who at almost 26 months has only a handful of words. The urge to talk seems to be disturbing his sleep, too. He's been waking in the middle of the night with a great big burst of babbling. It freaks us out, but we'll watch on the monitor as he finds his teddy and goes right back to sleep. He does the same thing in the middle of his naps. I'll hear a loud noise of something he just said, look at the monitor and find him fast asleep.

I feel like he's talking. But I'm the one who's the issue because I can't understand a word. I try repeating similar words back to him to see if anything clicks, but I always seem to miss the boat on what he's trying to communicate.

He's increasingly easy to talk to, though. He seems to understand a huge amount of what I say, when I make the effort with my vocabulary. He can follow complex instructions and often knows what I mean without me having to completely spell it out. (i.e. "Put this toy away, please" and he'll put it where it always goes.) You can carry on a conversation with him even though you'll have no idea what he's saying. And while he is increasingly combative and opinionated these days, he's also so so sweet and generous with affection.

Finally, on the subject of weird psychological developments with G - he's started noticing other kids! Before, he'd either ignore them or look at them like they were crazy. He's normally quite standoffish, and it's the worst thing ever if any other kid enters his bubble of personal space.

But this morning, we headed to the playground at the mall. We were alone for a while but then a father with his daughter showed up. She seemed about 4 - a head taller than G and a great talker. G immediately took notice of her and started following her around. If she was up on the slide, he wanted to be there. If she took off through the tunnel, he wanted to go through the tunnel too. When she stopped and smiled at him, he smiled back. I was like, who are you and where is my son who shouts at the kid who gets close? When he wanted to walk past her, he didn't yell, he just kinda scrunched up his body and passed by her.

It was getting close to time to go. I asked G if he wanted a snack and some water. Usually, he'll nod and be ready to go at that point. However, this time he gestured at the little girl, mumbled something, and fiercely shook his head before climbing up the slide to join her at the top. "Mom," my kid had basically just said to me. "There's a girl so we can't leave yet. Oh, and you're ruining my mojo by talking to me so stop it."

When did G turn 14 years old behind my back?

In truth, all of this is so amazing. My baby is definitely no longer a baby. Sometimes, I'm so amazed at how tall he is or he'll surprise me by laughing at a joke because that's what you do - you laugh.

The girls (or boys) can wait, though!

three days post miscarriage

It's difficult for me to peg down the exact day of my miscarriage. We knew the baby wasn't viable a week and a half before I started bleeding. While I started miscarrying Sunday evening, I was still passing tissue as late as Tuesday morning even though most of the cramps had ceased.

Anyway, so I'm about three or four days post the majority of the miscarriage. Yesterday was the first day that the bleeding seemed to be slowing, and I've only passed tiny clots in two days. Now, it's mostly like a period. I'm still very tired throughout the day, but I'm sure I'll be that way until my iron levels recover.

I can tell my hormone levels are dropping. My boobs are smaller and no longer as sore, and my skin is breaking out like crazy. I'm no longer nauseous nor as hungry as I was only days ago. I'm also breathing easier - I get that pregnancy symptom where your nasal passages swell and your allergies worsen; this is usually one of my first signs of pregnancy and the first signal that my hormones have shifted.

Emotionally, I'm actually pretty good. I'm not crying all of the time, though I'm finding it difficult to get up and do anything. I'm giving myself a few more days and then it's time to get back to normal. I want to get back to running again and get my body back in shape before we try to conceive baby #4. I'm trying to be more sociable, but right now it's a fight against the introverted side of me that just wants to hide and stay bottled up for a while longer.

I've got G to focus on now, too. He has his big EI testing today, and we're crossing our fingers that he qualifies for speech therapy. If he doesn't, we have to wait six months before he can be tested again. That will give him six months to fall behind even more, and I will not be happy!

21 months, or, where's my baby??

Dear G,

You are 21 months old, as of Sunday. How crazy is that?

You're just so much fun to be around these days. You laugh easily and often. You love to read, and now one of your favorite games is to go to your room, pick out a book, bring it to us on the couch, read the book, then head back to your room to get another one. You also love to sit on our laps to read. I'm more than a little smug that I'm your favorite reading partner, but you usually turn to Daddy when you get hurt, so I take what I can get!

You finally started doing a little communicating this month, and no, I don't mean with words. You learned to shake your head "no" and nod your head "yes," and now you use them often, letting us know how you feel about something or answering our questions. I swear, those simple gestures have made somethings, especially mealtimes, so much easier. You also learned the sign for "diaper," so that makes - what? - four signs? More, all done, milk, and diaper.

You also learned some more body parts: back, teeth, and penis. Yes, you learned where your penis is, but you kept pointing at it in the bath and asking, so I told you. This is definitely way more weird for me than it is you, but your mama doesn't want to be a prude so I'll do my best to be open and straight-forward about these things.

Man, I'm gonna embarrass you so much when you're older.

This month, we've dealt with you testing your climbing skills. You're figured out how to climb on the kitchen chairs but not how to get down. I'm so afraid you're going to break something! At least you call for help once you can't get back down. You can also climb up in the large recliner in your room, and make mama have a heart attack with that.

You cut the rest of your incisors this month. That means we are all done with teething until those second year molars start coming in. I hope those wait at least a few months. You had a time with the incisors, and I think we could also use a break. I'm a little freaked out by your mouth full of teeth, but I love your toothy grin whenever you flash it. You've relaxed a little about getting your teeth brushed and you're actually opening your mouth again, but you still jerk that head around all over the place. Seriously, dude, what's with that?

We've got an appointment with Early Intervention this Friday to talk about your lack of speech. You still only say "moo" and it's really starting to break my heart. I'm very hopeful that you'll qualify. I know you want to communicate because you try every other way to do so, but you just don't want to form any syllables. Who knows what the matter is. I hope we can get you the help you need - whatever mama is doing isn't working!

Love you, baby G. I know we still call you a baby, but you ought to quickly learn the old cliche. You'll always be my baby. Thanks for being such a trooper the past couple of weeks as we've dealt with the loss of your little brother or sister. Your kisses, hugs, and ready smiles are exactly what I need right now.

Love,
~Mama