Well, our family’s annual end of summer cold has descended upon us. First me, I brought it home from work I’m sure, now Jack. If I’m lucky it will skip over Jeremy and grammy.
Poor Jack is all stuffy with a low grade fever. But he’s in a very good mood overall.
We’re supposed to go camping this weekend with family. We’ve been planning the trip since Jack was a tiny babe. So I’m really hoping we’re all well enough in time.
Unfortunately, I’ve had to call in to work twice now due to this terrible bout of cooties. On top of not getting paid I’m also missing important training for a position I’m supposed to take over soon.
At this point I have no choice but to leave it up to the universe, and try to get us well. We’re not sick in this house often but when we are it’s awful.
Hopefully everything works out for the best. I start school next week too and then I will really not have time to be sick.
As I push my front door open, after a long shift at work, I am greeted with an excited “HI!” from Jack as he charges into my arms, jabbering all the while, as he tells me about his day. Greetings such as this warm my chilly little heart after a long day of “customer service.” These giant and verbal greetings remind me of a time when Jack was not so giant or so verbal.
My first mothers day Jack was in the NICU. Jeremy and I arrived that morning, Jacks bed was surrounded by nurses trying to get a blood catheter in him because they were taking blood from him so frequently, and he was still so tiny, he was going to need a blood transfusion ( a bag of blood from a donor) that afternoon. My husband and I stood in silence as we watched the nurses do what only they could until one of them turned around to face us, requesting that we wait in the lounge. Our devastated gaze was making them anxious, and they were already struggling to get the needle in somewhere useful. We obliged, and when they were done, we returned to the NICU to find our baby boy with a plastic needle catheter inserted into his tender scalp. We visited with him while he rested and, I recited my ritual mantra to him; ” I love you. I am proud of you. You can do this. You are the strongest person I know.”
All around us, the NICU hummed with intense daytime activity. After a brief visit with Jack, my husband and I decided to let him continue to rest comfortably. We returned later that night, and my favorite nurse was at Jacks bedside. She knew we were coming in ahead of time, and she had given Jack a bath and put him in his pajamas. Jack was relaxing in his incubator as I lifted his blanket to peek inside. When I opened the little door near his face to say hello, his eyes popped open, the look of recognition on his face was undeniable. “How’s mama’s baby Jack!?” I said as he thrust his hand upward. I gave him my hand, and he gripped my index finger. We stayed there like that for a long time. It felt so good to be greeted by him, after a traumatic morning. Jack knew his mama, that much was undeniable to me, to Jeremy, and to the NICU nurse as well.
With Jack’s second birthday fast approaching, I am reflecting on how far we have come in such a relatively short amount of time. Jack continues to amaze us with his size, his strength, his sense of humor, his personality, his cleverness, and abstract and critical thinking skills, his courage, and his sensitivity, as well as his good looks.
Well, technically he said “N na noo mama” but I know what he meant and it definitely counts, but of course he hasn’t said it since. Anyway, here’s a whole bunch of pictures of Mr. Jack, because he is too cute for words.
P.S. Jack is also 21 months old as of yesterday! Holy Hell he’s almost two years old.