dear hudson,
what a wild ride this year has been. too many ups and downs to count, and today, i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about august 11 last year. i went into labor around 7 in the morning, called my parents because i was pretty sure it was go time and i was already dilated to a 4. i was scared you might come quickly (you didn’t). by the time they got here, i was having hard contractions and knew this had to be your day. i remember being excited, scared, hopeful, and so ready to meet you. i had no idea what our day would hold. that you would be in distress during labor, that your heart rate would keep dropping (along with my blood pressure), that they would have to monitor you very closely, that the words ’emergency c-section’ would be uttered at one point, and i would be so scared. that the NICU team would be called in to be there for your delivery. that when you came out, you would have two collapsed lungs and a broken clavicle and i would only be able to hold you for a few seconds before they took you and gave you oxygen to get you breathing. that they would take you directly to the NICU and we would not hear anything for an hour while they figured out what was going on. that they would drain fluid off of your lungs and have you transported (in what looked like a spaceship) to a hospital downtown with a better-equipped NICU (with daddy following the ambulance). that we did not know what was going to happen to you – you could improve or totally tank in those first few hours. that daddy and I would spend that night in our hospital room without you. that my mom would sit at your bedside all night and watch your labored breathing and listen to the doctors until i could get discharged. that the next morning, when we would see you, you’d be connected to so many wires that it would take a nurse’s help just to hold you. that i wouldn’t be able to nurse you until you were two days old. that we would stay in an old run down hospital room (after joking that our stay would be at the ‘spaspital’ since it would be a break to look after a newborn) just to be closest to you. that I would feel so torn between your needs and those of your siblings. that after all that, we would only be in the hospital one day longer than if you’d come out healthy (miraculous, really).
it was a rough and scary few days and we are so lucky your tiny body knew what to do to heal itself.
i wish some one had been able to whisper to me that first night- everything will be OK. because, honestly, we didn’t know that it would be.
to meet you now, one would never know of your dramatic entrance or your tiny fragile body those first weeks. you are loud and sturdy, physical and happy, soooooo happy. WE are so happy to call you ours.
you are walking and beginning to talk and you may just be the busiest of the three (which is saying something!). you are ornery and cautious, love cars, bats, balls and the stairs, are a good eater, did I mention busy? you, beckett, and chloe, have mutual adoration for one another, and i so hope your relationships will only strengthen. it’s been beautiful to watch that bond grow. you are sleeping better, though still not thru the night reliably. last night you were up at 2.30, 4.30, and 5 – teeth? just wanting to get a jump on the birthday? and noooowwwww you decide you like a pacifier. what the what?!?
i am savoring your baby qualities, but at the same time, so look forward to seeing who you become. we all love you, hudsy bear. you are the piece that completed this little puzzle.
chasingshinyobjects.com 