The Meaning of Mother - His First Month

Dear Friends and Family,

A precious few times in my life I’ve stared at a clock on the wall and counted down the minutes, holding my breath and wondering what the next few hours were going to be like. I’m not talking about the everyday anticipation; I’m talking about the scary big moments when you know that life as you know it is about to change forever.

As many of you know, one of those moments occurred in September of 2011 when I tearfully faced the reality of giving birth to my son, Corban and losing him that same day. A mother. That’s what I’d become on that day. But I also became the mother to an angel, meaning I’d retired early, been laid off, sent home early.... They have books, blogs, and even TV shows about motherhood, parenting, pregnancy… but nothing was there to prepare me for that moment when God handed me something I didn’t think I could ever swallow or stomach. Nothing except my testimony and the things I’d taught as a missionary. I did a lot of praying and weeping and more praying. I also did a lot of other things.

But this post isn’t about Corban. Well it is and it isn’t.

What I’m trying to say is that I found myself in a hospital room in Labor and Delivery watching a clock again, my heart pounding at the impending delivery of my second child. Giving birth to Corban had prepared me for some things, a year and 5 months of grief hadn’t prepared me for anything beyond about 4:30pm on February 4 of this year. I was going to have a baby. We had his name picked out, we had a nursery packed full of clothes, toys, and stacked to the ceiling zillion diapers that had only increased in size when we found out we were expecting again. Now, as to what we were expecting well, that was a whole different thing altogether.

I mean, I was already a mother. But I had no idea, really, what it was going to be like to have a living, breathing baby in my arms in just a matter of moments.

It actually was about 2 hours later that my living, breathing son, Callan, was placed in my arms. 

[For the sake of not scaring any potential c-section patients and causing the rating of this blog to be raised above PG, I will simply say that I had a c-section, my doctor was amazing and that really, it was a lot better once it was over.]

So, skipping ahead, there I was in the hospital room. Many of the adoring grandparents, aunts and uncles had actually already seen my baby for longer than I got to see him. [Note to future c-section moms: they show you the baby and then they whisk him/her away because your c-section is going to take a while and he/she will catch up to you once the tests and usual stuff is over with. This hiccup of a chance to meet your baby is brief and if you were to blink, you’d have missed half of it.]

Yes, I was a little impatient at that point, but when they opened the door all sounds in the room faded; in fact I had tunnel vision. The nurse lifted little Callan right to me. It was a good thing too; I was about ready to defy science and medicine and get up and grab him. He was in my arms, all soft, cozy and perfect. It was just him and me. And tears too, but I don’t remember when they started.

Callan Everett Kent is 2 hours old. Feb 4, 2013

I held him, wept, kissed him and then let everyone else have a moment or two. I was about ready to leap from my bed and snag him back when the nurse came in, rescuing us all with needing to check on me and the baby. Plus the little guy was hungry and would be needing food. Finally, something that I could do and not have to agonizingly watch and wait as others acted.

So the room emptied. A few things were tested and I held him and tried to feed him. He was tired. Heck, who’s to blame him? He’d just been through quite the ordeal.

Then his doctor arrived. He had tests he needed to do. Could he take my little perfect guy and do them? I said yes. I wanted to say no. But I said yes and smiled and cooed at Callan to let him know it was okay.

And then they took him. They said it would only be an hour. 

It wasn’t.

They moved me out of the recovery room to the room we'd be sharing as a family. It had been an hour and a half and still, Callan wasn't brought to me. I started to itch with nervousness. It felt like someone was pulling on my heart. 

His doctor came and visited me. He didn’t bring Callan with him like he’d promised. No, Callan was going to be staying in the NICU for a couple hours. They had to give him an IV so Callan was admitted to the NICU. 

Again, I was watching a clock and tearfully waiting. I chewed my lips with nervousness. I tried to smile and be happy, but my heart was aching. I wanted to hold my Callan. 

Finally, I got a phone call telling me that Callan was going to stay the night in the NICU. My heart sank.

It was starting to remind me of that day a year and five months earlier. Sure, the doctors were telling me things looked good and not to worry, just that Callan had a few struggles. But I began to wonder. Was God going to take Callan back too? Was all this aching just his way of preparing me for when He'd call little Callan back to heaven?

Callan is 2 days old in the NICU still.

When you are in the hospital and faced with all the emotions of giving birth and then the NICU, you have to be positive. At least, if you are me, then you have to be positive. So I was. I tried to tuck in my lower lip, biting it tight to keep it from quivering. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be. If only I could my heart believe it.

Now, ultimately, it was, but not after 5 and a half days of watching the clock and waiting.

Then we got to take him home!

Home. What a word!

But it wasn’t easy as pie. Nope, not even close.

You see, Callan almost didn’t come home with us as planned that evening. His oxygen levels started to drop the night before and then, when they did the car seat test, the really dipped low. As the guy came to Callan up with an oxygen bottle, Callan’s levels dropped really low. So they decided to send him home with a meter too.

Anyone who has ever experienced this will tell you that an oximeter will drive you completely mad. Well, we didn’t know this. We were naïve to the woes of such things. We had stupidly thought it would give us peace of mind and comfort. Boy were we in for a rude awakening!

The meter kept beeping all the way home which is its way of telling us Callan’s levels were creeping lower and lower. I was crying and praying and trying to comfort Callan. Lifting his chin and talking to him, one eye on him and the other on the meter. His levels dropped so low that I had to bend over (remember, I’d had a c-section) and try to twist the knob to increase the oxygen flow. I was blinded with tears, but he was getting more oxygen. I slowly sat back up and calmed myself.

Then the machine started to beep again.

As we pulled into our garage, I was full on crying. I was a bad mother. No, I was a downright awful, horrid, terrible wretch of an excuse of a mother!

Tyler got Callan, his oxygen and I grabbed the meter and we rushed upstairs to get him out of his car seat. It was the scariest thing of our lives. We were failing miserably. I was so afraid. I just knew we were going to lose him.

Finally, with Callan in my arms the meter stopped beeping. I stopped crying and could breathe again, although I couldn’t really swallow the fear yet.

Day 2 being home.

We had a lot of moments like that afterwards, but we learned to understand the sensitivity of the meter and also, over the next couple weeks, Callan’s lungs grew stronger. 

He smiled a lot in his sleep.

He also smiles if you talk to him when he's awake.

Just over two weeks after coming home from the NICU, Callan was off oxygen. 

Callan watches me, wondering what I'm doing!

Callan plays, pulling one of his cute faces!

Callan is 20 days old!

When he was three and a half weeks old, he was finally able to go off the meter.

I’ve decided I’m not a “downright awful, horrid, terrible wretch of an excuse of a mother” like I’d thought. No, I’m a mother. And mothers sometimes feel like they are downright awful, horrid and terrible at being a mother.

Now, for the record, I love being a mother (even if I’m a downright awful, horrid, terrible wretch of an excuse of one). Maybe Callan will forgive me my shortcomings and love me anyway.

Callan smiles at his Mama.

I sure love being his mother! And I’ve learned not to watch the clock. I watch him instead and in so doing, my heart melts and I can’t help but be caught under his spell.

Callan - 1 month and 1 day old

I love being his mother!

From Heaven, With Love

Dear Little One,

Just over 4 months ago, another miracle happened in our lives. Of course, Corban, you knew about this miracle before we did. To make a long story short, we were given a wonderful Father's Day gift: news that we were pregnant. It was clear that the timing was meant to help ease the pain of missing you, Corban, and giving us a measure of hope that bright days lie ahead.

Needless to say we were both humbled and frightened. Uncertainties that were never in our minds during our pregnancy with you were now very real. We felt anxiety creeping into every moment of that first month since finding out, but along with anxiety, we discovered such hope and joy. We are going to be parents again!

The due date looms far in the future, in the middle of February. We've been flooded with love and support, along with a lot of questions about how things are going. The pregnancy has gone smoothly thus far. In many instances we've felt you close by, Corban, watching over your little brother. Yes, that's right, we're expecting a little boy! Your mother has been a bit more sick than she was during her pregnancy with you. But this time, she is a little more calm about all the "newness" of being pregnant because she is now a seasoned pro!

So, just 5 months down the road, Corban, you will send us your little brother to join the Kent family. For this wonderful gift and news from heaven, we are indeed grateful!

We love you and miss you, little guy. Thank you for being a part of our family and for preparing the way for your little brother.

Our Home Gets a Face-Lift

Dear Corban,

Sometimes the best medicine for grief is to keep busy. One of the things your daddy and I have been doing to keep busy is to work on our house. We started in the kitchen. It was too small, there weren’t any doors on the cabinets and the floor in front of the sink was sinking because of water damage. 

So in mid December, Daddy and I got busy tearing out the cupboards,

 

gutting the walls,

and then removing the flooring and sub-floor.

We were able to do this with the help for a few friends and your aunts, uncles and grandparents. The week between Christmas and New Years was our busy week, installing the new tile, hanging the cupboards, and putting in the new counter top. Your aunt Andrea, Uncle JD, Daddy and Mommy all helped put in the tile. It took a full evening to do, but once it was in, it looked great! 

This was taken after we finished laying the tile.

Uncle JD helped Daddy fix all the wiring while Uncle Tony and Uncle Shelby did the math and measuring to hang the cupboards. Grandpa and Grandma Kent helped with the mudding, staining, painting and sealing of the cupboards while keeping us well fed and entertained with your cousins and their 9-month pregnant mommy, your Aunt Stephanie. Aunt Stephanie helped Mommy and Grandma put things into cupboards and decide which drawers were best for the silverware. About the time all of the finishing touches were being done, your cute little cousin, Sophie was born exactly 4 months to the day after your birthday.

Sophie Tea was born Jan 7, 2012

After Sophie was born we went back to Home Improvement phase, finishing up the final details. In mid-January we bought a fridge for half price and with the help of your uncle Shelby, Daddy was able to get it to fit through our doorway and into the space we’d left for a fridge.

A month later, Daddy started to tear out the ugly old maroon carpet in the living room as well as the stairs going up and the hallway. 

The old colors of paint in our living room were pretty crazy.

We tore down the wall paper the evening of our second day in the house. We knew it wasn't perfect yet, but it was still a lot better without the wall paper.

With some calming blue paint on the walls things look better.

I've put in some of those old pictures to show the progress of this front room. The old green paint and ugly wall paper was the first thing to go, so to finally start on things two and a half years later was long overdue. It was finally nice to start getting rid of the old carpet.

Tearing up the carpet took about 10 minutes.

Daddy swept up the staples, dust, dirt and other gunk.

Mommy helped daddy peel up the yucky carpet pad and pull staples. In the course of two evenings, Mommy helped Daddy put down some lovely new carpet. 

Daddy staples down the new carpet pad.

Our house has never looked so good.

Now you don't notice the carpet because it is the right color.

The stairs look nicer.

The hall looks nicer

The colors match.

It finally looks like a nice room

For Christmas your Grandpa and Grandma Kent gave us a beautiful curio cabinet. They gave it to us so that we could put some of your things on display to always remember you, Corban and the powerful calming spirit you have.  You are so very much a part of everything we do.

The curio makes the perfect finishing touch to the room.

We’ve also put something things into the cabinet from both Mommy and Daddy’s missions, and from your Aunt Elin’s travels in the Navy. Over the years we will add to this cabinet as we collect more memories.

Little one, we want you to know how much we miss you. We are so glad you’re a part of our family and we can’t wait for the day when we are reunited. We hope that the changes and upgrades to our home will help us keep you close to our hearts and forever in our thoughts. We live each day for you, little one.