ONE

ONE...my sweet little 2lb 14oz miracle baby is ONE today!

What a whirlwind, kinda (more like a whole lot) scary, happy, exciting, overwhelming, awesome, miraculous, year this has been!

Gladly looking forward to the toddler years!

Isaac is having a great day so far. We quietly woke him at 5:20am to tell him Happy Birthday. Then he got a special breakfast of strawberry jam on his muffin and I let him have a juice box too! How much better can it get for a one year old? Then we sent him off to Nannie's (so she could enjoy the sugar high). I'm leaving work early to go home and decorate and prepare for the party at 6:30. On the menu....grilled burgers, grilled corn on the cob, cole slaw, baked beans, watermelon, homemade ice cream, and chocolate cake!

Stay tuned for first birthday pictures!

Isaac's first picture. This was taken by the hsopital nurses and emailed to Klay's phone since I didnt get to see him as soon as he was born. I printed this off and carried it with me everywhere. It was tattered and torn but the only piece I had of my baby boy. The only picture I had for months without cords and IVs. He's beautiful.

M yHero

My hero is my son.

My baby will be ONE is just two and a half weeks. Where has the time gone? Isaac's first year was filled with so many things that weren't typical. Scary things. But he is a miracle baby and he jumped every hurdle and pressed on. There is such a lesson in this little one. He shows more grace and strength than most adults I know. He's been through more pain and suffering and hospitalization than most adults will ever endure in their life time. However, he never fussed and cried about it. He held his head high and pressed forward, usually with a grin and a sparkle in his eye. Seriously, he never had a fit in the hospital and has only had just a handful at home.

Last week he was sick, his first cold, he still laughed and carried on, the happiest little guy. Not only was he sick, he was cutting teeth, not one, not two, not even three, but FOUR. You would have never known. We found them after they were already in. Poor guy had to have been in pain. But pain is nothing new to him.

In other development...we are pulling up, thinking about walking, have six teeth, no longer eat baby food but eat table food and feed ourself. We talk about Amma, Dada, Nannie, and now Ki Ca (Kitty Cat).

As we get so very close to Isaac's first year, I may be slowly beginning to heal. As my son grows and takes off our NICU experience becomes farther away. I will never forget it, it is a part of me. It changed me permanently. It made me grow up. But its no longer quiet as painful as it used to be. I still want to cry when I see pictures of families in the hospital taking the pictures of everyone holding the new baby while mama sits in the bed, relaxing, and glowing with pride. I still feel cheated. I will never forget how alone and quiet my hospital room was right after giving birth...no visitors, just the phone calls where I had to explain "what happened." Then leaving the hospital empty handed only to start the longest two months of my life. No rest and recovery, just the highway and strangers caring for a baby I had trouble believing was mine.

Now I have no trouble seeing him as "mine." When he calls for Amma and his face lights up...yes, its usually because I have the "milkies" and he wants them, but hey, he doesnt act like that to any "milkies" but mine! When I pick him up and the end of the day and he reaches for me and rudly turns away from anyone else...thats my baby. My sweet little boy. My own personal miracle. My gift from God. My hero....

I care...

I care WAY WAY WAY too much about what other people think. Which is a pretty bad thing considering how opinionated I am an how most of my opinions vary from what the mainstream thinks. You think that fact that I realize I care too much and that I shouldnt care so much would make me not care (does that statement make any sense?) yet I still do.

I'm rather opinionated about some things, yet I get my feelings hurt when people shoot down said opinions...even when its people I dont even know. WHY do I even care? I do what I feel is right and the choices that work for us, so why do I care what Jane Doe's cousin's sister in law's aunt thinks about me?

Some one will make a random statement and I immediately get defensive and think its about me. Maybe it is, maybe it isnt, why should I even care? This person is not someone who has any direct impact on my life in any form or fashion, yet I loose sleep over what they think of me. WHY oh WHY do I do this to myself?

You'd think that I'd get over this since I realize I do it, and in my head I know I dont want to and that these opinions really dont matter at all, yet I find my heart still getting hurt. Maybe I am just plumb crazy, ya think?