A Shoulda Been Woulda Been Birthday

Pirate gramps

On April Fool's Day my extended family got together to celebrate my sister's birthday. We also had another shoulda been coulda been birthday to recognize - Wilder's. Wilder's due date was April 1, 2014. He surprised us by arriving the year before, in December 2013. His adjusted age is now ONE YEAR OLD, even though we celebrated his one year birthday in December. For the first few years, preemies are considered to be developmentally the age that they would be, had they been born on their due date. I know, its confusing. Wilder looks like a one year old, which is to be expected, even though his chronological age is 15.5 months. 

My Baby is the Most Demanding Boss I've Ever Had

Wilder sucks a lemon

I am a woman who lived 35 years on this earth - eating, drinking, sleeping, working, reading, laughing, loving, traveling, taking photos - all for myself. I led my life. I thought a lot, brain always whirring, about absolutely everything. Today I am a woman, now 36 years old, who exists to nurture my baby. I have thrown myself into this job like a workaholic. 

Wilder is a demanding boss. He requires a 168-hour work week, including all nights and weekends. I can’t daydream too much or he’ll bonk his head on something or eat cat poop. I can no longer keep track of the little things. I’m so forgetful. I have a very real condition known as “baby brain.” 

Baby brain is discombobulating. The U.S. should adopt one year paid family leave for both parents - not just because it would be “nice” to have that time off with your new baby - because it is nearly impossible to be a fully functional part of society while caring for a brand new little one. I was a perfectionist in my past, childless life. I had particular ideas about how my life should be, and I was able to make it so. Not anymore. 

Things I Wish I Knew Before Bringing Baby Camping

The marina at Pinecrest Lake Resort

Pinecrest Lake in the Stanislaus National Forest is a family camping dream, with movies in an outdoor amphitheater, food and supply stores, restaurant and coffee bar, not to mention a clear blue lake fully stocked with rainbow trout and ringed by Sugar Pines, Redwoods, and granite. Kimo and I felt confident in our camping skills until we brought our 6 month old baby to Pinecrest on a two-night camping trip. Even with grandpa’s borrowed camper van we were overwhelmed at times. 

7 Months of Motherhood - the things I never expected to learn

Wilder at 7 Months

July 17, 2014

“Feeling desperate” I just texted my mom. She’s the only person I trust with my son besides his dad, who is at work right now. Turns out grandma is at work too, so I’m on my own today with baby Wilder, who is particularly fussy today. 

Yesterday I looked forward to a day with no appointments today. In reality, I need to take him to Dominican Hospital to get blood drawn for his monthly lab work. Plus I need to pump breast milk 3-4 times for his night feedings, done by G-tube, straight to his belly. He needs this because he can’t get all the nutrition he needs through breastfeeding, probably because it exhausts his damaged lungs, but we’re not sure. His lungs suffered damage from an infection in the NICU. I pump breast milk more often than I sit down to eat. 

Tomorrow Wilder turns 7 months old. Born at 25 weeks and 2 days, he spent the time he should have been in my belly in an incubator at Stanford’s Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital in Palo Alto, an hour away from our home in Santa Cruz. 

A year ago I got pregnant and it changed everything. I had just started dating Wilder’s dad when it happened. We quickly decided we’d try to make things work and became monogamous. We fell in love in between prenatal ultrasounds and hikes in the woods.

During my second trimester I gave birth to Wilder extremely prematurely. We will never know why it happened. I had a normal pregnancy until I went into labor. We spent a hellish 3.5 months at Stanford before Wilder came home to Santa Cruz. 

Everyone knows parenthood is a life-changing responsibility. What I didn’t expect was how becoming a mom also brought me a freedom greater than I have ever known. The freedom to focus on one thing - my son. He is the most important thing to me, period. I have the responsibility of a life I created in my hands. I am going to do the best job I can as his mom. 

Wilder has been home for 3.5 months now - a milestone meaning he’s been home for as long as he lived in the hospital. He’s also been alive longer than he was in my belly. 

I check on his breathing many times a day, even though they keep telling me his lungs sound “perfect.” I can’t stop because it’s a compulsion, driven by fear carried over from the NICU. I’m working on it.

I laugh when he farts as loud as an adult. I feel guilty when I’m too tired to soothe his cries effectively. I feel euphoria when he smiles at me. I feel frustrated when I don’t know how to keep him content. Motherhood is chock full of feelings - all with a strong undercurrent of love. 

I have moments of self pity. I know millions of new moms all over the world are suffering sleep deprivation, but hardly any of them are dealing with daily doses of thyroid medication or granulation tissue growing around a G-tube site on their child. For the first time in my life I am certain that others hear my story and say to themselves, “Thank god that isn’t me.”

One of the most poignant lessons I learned through our NICU journey is the power of love over circumstance. Surviving the NICU, I realized that the love we feel for Wilder is as deep and true no matter what health problems he experiences. And with that love comes joy. Even when Wilder was fighting for his life - as a parent - we were still thankful for the miracle of his existence. The love we feel for Wilder is so much stronger than the trauma, illness, and pain we’ve felt.  

Our life is ridiculously difficult right now. By the end of the day mommy and daddy are zombies when Wilder has his nightly breakdowns, made all the worse because he’s an early teether. It’s intense. Thankfully, our life is intensely wonderful too. Wilder’s giggling and babbling make it all ok. When he looks out of his carrier up at the trees when we are on a hike it makes me feel like we’re doing a good job. The doctors say that Wilder looks so healthy and normal, they would never guess he was a “25-weeker.” 

I didn’t expect my journey into parenthood to bring me face to face with helplessness and fear. I also didn’t expect it to continue to feel like surviving a battle having Wilder at home. Thankfully, the payoff of having a thriving baby is huge and brings me much joy. I’ve also learned a thing or two about human suffering, which has made me a much more compassionate person. The more compassion in this world the better - Thank You Wilder. 

The first time I held Wilder - he was 6 weeks old

Welcome Home Wilder

Wilder
Photo by Melissa Burman http://www.melissaburmanphotography.com

18 days after my last post, in which I announced my pregnancy, I had a baby boy, three and a half months early. His daddy and I (and my mom) spent those three and a half months, in which baby Wilder was supposed to be in my belly, up at his bedside at Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital at Stanford, in Palo Alto. After 2 months of daily commuting, I moved into the Ronald McDonald House to be near him, while his dad worked full time in Santa Cruz. Wilder’s birth and first 3 months of life were the scariest, most emotionally fraught times of my life. Daily I faced my worst fears for months on end. Wilder’s survival is a miracle - his current thriving health even more miraculous. It took strength and resilience that I didn’t know we had for our family to emerge from the Stanford’s NICU with smiles on our faces. 

Wilder
Photo by Madeline Horn

Wilder came home on April 4, 2014 - just 3 days after his due date. This baby will never be taken for granted. His “adjusted age” - the age he would be if he had been born full term - is five weeks. I try to wear him in a wrap on my chest as much as possible to make up for all the time we were physically separated in the hospital. We take walks, visit doctors and specialists, go on picnics, go to the farmers market, and visit with family and friends. We’re lucky to live by the beach and a short drive to beautiful redwood hikes. Wilder gets a good amount of fresh air. But most of all, as those of you who have children understand, most of his time is spent eating and sleeping. 

I would not wish what we have gone through on anyone. It was brutal. However, having a sick child is complex. It’s everyone’s worst nightmare, yet, even on the worst days, there are daily moments of beauty and joy. 

Wilder is not “sick” anymore. He is recovering from his very intense stay in the NICU much faster than any of the doctors expected. Wilder’s M.O. seems to be surprising us - first with his extremely early birth, followed by a string of atypical medical problems and miraculous recoveries. 

Wilder
Photo by Madeline Horn

Enjoy the photos of our little miracle. I’ll start posting about our adventures soon!

Beach Baby
Photo by Madeline Horn