How do you say it?

Today as I was scrolling though facebook on my phone I saw a picture of a cute little blondie girl. Ry, looking over my shoulder, asked me who she was. How do you tell your 6 year old daughter who that little girl is, the one who won't be with her mom and dad and family for Christmas? Do you tell her the story of the mean man who walked in a school, very much like her own, and decided to shoot 20 children that were her same age? Are we supposed to ignore it, hoping that our children will still feel safe at school, the place where they spend their week, making it their second home? How do we describe the fact that this little blondie will never turn 7. She will never read another Junie B. Jones book before she goes to bed at night. She will never sing another song in the car with her family. How do you tell your baby that some mom and dad will never be able to tuck their little blond haired princess into bed at night? What are we supposed to say?

 I don't know the right answers to all these questions. I don't know how I am going to feel tomorrow as she jumps out of the car excited for a new week of school. The knot in my stomach tells me that it will be a long day. A day thinking about the families who don't have a 6 year old to be excited for the last few days of school before Christmas break. Families who don't get to see their girl sing carols at school and bring their teacher Christmas presents. How will we move on?

I told Ry that the little girl was in a horrible accident. That a mean man walked into her classroom and tried to hurt a lot of people and kids. I reassured her that she will be safe at her school, trying to hide the fact that I feel like I am lying to her. I know I trust her teacher and that she would do everything in her power to keep the students safe, I know that as the week goes on the days will get easier. I know this is nothing compared to how it would feel to be the mother of the cutie little blonde girl. Lastly and most importantly, I know the hurt in my heart and the knot in my stomach are for them, not me and my family.

Oh Eli

Eli,

You are 18 months old! One and a half! I cannot even believe it. It has gone by so fast. I still feel like you are my teeny tiny "always a few steps behind the crowd" baby. This isn't true anymore. You are finally catching up and I don't believe my own eyes sometimes!

You started to walk over a month ago. It was, yet again, another milestone you strived to reach for a few weeks. You never gave up until you started taking step after step, fall after fall, to only get up again and start the process continually throughout the rest of the week. Now you have been trying to keep up with your sisters and are actually doing a pretty good job. You love it when they run away from you and hide. You laugh and scream until you find them and then fall over in laughter when they jump out at you.

You love to play outside. You crawl out of my arms as soon as we walk out the door. You love to be on a tractor, screaming and crying in a huge fit when it is time to get off. You love to "drive". As soon as you see a steering wheel in front of you, your hands are immediately on it trying to turn the wheels.

You spend a lot of time closing doors to rooms in our house. Especially after you walk into one room with out us knowing. We sometimes can't find you anywhere, our house is not that big, and we usually find you behind the closed door getting into something you aren't supposed to have.

You are a dare devil. You love to climb and have to do things your own way even if it is the hardest way. Last week we went to visit Grandma and Grandpa Soptich. You found two stairs that instantly became your favorite new toy. Climbing down headfirst, we tried to show you how to go down backwards, the safer way. After screaming in fits because you didn't want to go backwards, we finally let you go your own way, headfirst. It was actually pretty successful for you for the first 4 days, but on Thursday you tumbled and broke your arm. It was pretty sad but you were so tough. Tomorrow you get your first cast. Welcome to Boyhood.

You are still my tough boy, you always have been.
You fight through things until they're over and do everything on your own time.
You are always smiling and happy.
You hold my heart in your hand.

Love you Bubba,
Mom

About Mom Jeans

Let me tell you about mom jeans. Mom jeans are loose around the thigh and tight at the ankle. They have a high waistline and small back pockets that sit almost as high. So let me ask, what is wrong with mom jeans?

Mom jeans are not flattering on any figure. They make your butt look wide and flat while they turn your legs into tree stumps and your feet into long, skinny boats. The waistband sits so high, your belly fat bulges over the top, also creating a shelf-like area for your sagging boobs. And you better watch out, because if you pick a shirt that's too long, it will cover the back pockets, leaving your backside seemingly pocketless which begins a whole new problem you then need to deal with because pants with no back pockets are the mother of all mom jeans. While this may all seem like a huge fashion
no-no (one in which we all try our best to avoid) the truth is, I have made the choice to wear my mom jeans with confidence and pride.

First and foremost, I chose to embrace my mom jeans the first time I put myself in second place. Although I am not quite sure when this happened. Maybe it was when I fell in love with Dustin. As I promised to try putting his needs before mine. Maybe it seemed easy because I knew we would over populate our house with gorgeous children, or because he cares about me so much that he would still love me even if I had a wide flat butt, stump legs and boat feet.

Maybe I put my mom jeans on when we decided it was time to start our family. Was it when I felt her move for the first time? Or when I heard her cry? Was it when she opened her eyes the first time she heard my voice? Maybe the next time I had my mom jeans on was when someone took her hospital hat off and I saw her dark hair and it matched mine. Was it when I had to be tough home alone with two kids all the time, even when the power was out? Or what about the time I got out my cute jeans to go away with my first love on a trip, I came back to my mom jeans waiting for me folded nicely on my bed, telling me how much I had missed out on while we were gone. Maybe another time I donned my mom jeans was the day Rylin asked me if baby brother in my tummy was sick like grandpa's baby calf who was born dead earlier that day. I strapped on my mom jeans and cinched the belt as tight as I could when I told her that our baby was just fine. I pulled that belt even tighter around my gut as I felt like I was lying to her even though I had no idea what was going to happen four weeks later. Maybe I saved my best mom jeans for May 5th. They were the acid wash no-back-pockets kind. With a bedazzled belt to tighten around my muffin top and tuck my Hanes brand t-shirt into with the sleeves rolled up. Yes, those were the ones I saved for May 5th. I needed those for the hard days. The days I needed my bedazzled belt to hold my insides together. The days when the cheesy Hanes t-shirt held my heart in my chest because I felt like it was left out in an incubator to be shattered at any moment. Or maybe it was the day when the neonatologist told me bluntly that our baby was in the process of dying when he was born. Maybe it was when I didn't even cry when he told me this because I knew how true it was.

You know, we all have a time for our best mom jeans. Maybe you pull them out when you do all you can to get your dream job in another city, only to find out you didn't get it. Maybe it is when you bring your baby to get her first shots when she screams as she stares into your eyes because now she knows what it feels like to be hurt. Maybe it is when you go on your first date together since the birth of a wee babe and you leave your baby at home in safe hands. Only to get to the restaurant, hear another baby crying or playing and want to run home to your own baby. Maybe it is when you never get to bring your baby home from the hospital because he only lived a few minutes, and all you are left with are a few pictures and maybe a blanket from the hospital. Maybe it is when you have to pretend like you aren't afraid of the dark because it's a secret you don't want the kids to know about you. Maybe it is when you have to leave your kids at home while you go to work. Or is it when you take her to kindergarten the first time, maybe when she walks away like she is so tough but you know how fragile she really is? Or when you see her eyes fill up with tears because she's scared but doesn't want to cry about it, she's too tough to cry now. Maybe it is when you get a huge needle shoved in your spine in preparation to have a baby, or maybe it is having a baby with no needle at all. Maybe it is when you vocalize what you believe is right for your children, only to be shot down by another person's opinion. Maybe it is when you sit by your child in a hospital bed, wondering how sick he will really get and what will happen, then crying instead of sleeping. Maybe it is telling your friends what you believe, hoping that someday they will believe it too. Maybe it is when she climbs into your bed with her purple pillow and snuggles on down without you even noticing. Or maybe when you did notice but decide you don't mind the warm little body taking up the whole bed because you know these days don't last forever.

I found my mom jeans a long time ago. I still find new pairs every once in a while. I am sure I have some hand me downs from people who are important to me. My favorites are the levi's from my mom. I believe we all need to use our mom jeans to our advantage. Swap our favorite kinds and share our bedazzled belts. Most importantly, don't forget about the acid washed pair with no back pockets. They will always be in the back of your closet for the really rough days. Don't be ashamed to pull those out when you need them.

A Story of Two Girlies and A Boy

For the first week of our boy's life, I wasn't sure when the right time would be for Ry and Kennel to meet their brother. I didn't want them to freak out with all the beeping, tubes and wires. To top it off, they would each have to wear a mask, gown, and gloves. I knew Rylin was old enough to understand, but I wasn't sure about Kendall. Honestly, at first, I wasn't sure how to show him to them. What would I say if he got so sick and didn't make it? Would it be easier for them to see him after he was better? Or take the risk when he was still sick? When everything started to change and we knew for sure our time with Eli on earth with us wasn't ending anytime soon, we decided to take the girls to meet their baby brother.

Eli was ten days old when he met his sisters.

All four of us made a trip to the hospital to see him one last time before we drove home for a few days. Dustin was with Eli while the girls and I were getting some lunch. After we had full tummies, I decided to take the plunge. I got them all gowned up and with only a little fight from Kennel, we made our way to Eli's cubicle. Rylin wasn't even nervous. She walked right up to the incubator and wanted to touch Eli. So we opened the door and she pet his little head and arm. Kendall even tried once, before trying to tear off her mask :) Kendall loved to look at him. She would stare at him with the cutest little smirk. Almost like she was thinking about all the mischief they would get into together. We snapped our first family photo and I took the girls back out to the waiting room. After a while, Rylin was asking to go back in. I gowned her up and one of the nurses walked her back to Dustin, who was then holding Eli. She sat back there for almost an hour with her daddy and brother, just watching and touching Eli's head.

The girlies only visited one more time before Eli came home. It was on June 10th. I was getting all ready to drive them to Boise so they could make their way to Utah to stay with my family for the rest of the month. My heart was breaking. I was sending two of my babies 20 hours away from us, so I could help their brother grow big and eventually come home. I was staying with Uncle Lee and Aunt Carrie for a few days, they only lived 40 minutes away from the hospital. Aunt Carrie (life-saver!!)  was helping me with the girls while Dustin was back home at work. I was able to spend a few days at the NICU by myself. The day before I was set to drive the girls to Boise, I decided they needed to see their brother once more before they left. I wrote a little letter to Eli that day:

"Today I was brave and brought Rylin and Kendall to see you. Kendall sat in a chair in the corner of your cubicle eating candy, while Rylin held you with me. They are so excited to be your big sisters, they tell everyone about you. Before we put you back in your incubator, Ry snuck a little smooch on the side of your head. It is a BIG secret that we had to keep from the nurses."

Luckily, Nicole (another one of our favorite nurses) looked away while Ry gave Eli a smooch. At first I told Ry she couldn't give him a kiss (GERMS!) and her eyes filled up with tears. So I told her to sneak it.  When I think about these few times in the hospital with the girlies and the boy, I realize we set the foundation for their relationship. They have been in love with their brother since before he was born, the love grew when they met him, and again when they visited him. I'm sure everyone knows how much I am obsessed with Eli, but the funny thing is, many days I realize the girls are just as much enamored with him (if not more) than Dustin and I.

Holding Him

On the Thursday when Eli was one week old, I went to rounds with the doctors and nurses. A new Neonatologist was in there with us. Which also brought a new pair of eyes. After doing the usual updates on the status of Eli,  he looked at me and asked if I had held my baby yet. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it. It seemed so far out of reach because he was so sick, the thought just never really crossed my mind. He was a little shocked when I told him that no, I had not held my baby yet. He looked at the nurses and made a goal for me to hold Eli before we left him again on Sunday. I was a little nervous instantly. I told them all that I didn't need to hold Eli, I didn't want to do anything to make him uncomfortable. The team assured me it would do nothing but good for the baby. So I tried to not get too excited, in case plans changed. So, Friday came. Eli was 8 days old when I held him. It was a night I will never forget. Dustin and I were staying in a room on the eighth floor of the hospital. We were told in preparation for holding him, we had to commit to at least two hours in one spot next to the incubator in a pleather recliner. We got to his bed side around 9:30pm. The best way to hold a new baby, especially one weighing 2 pounds, is called skin on skin, or kangaroo care. Basically the baby wears nothing but a diaper and lays on the bare chest of mom or dad. I (of course because I am mom:)) got first dibs. Eli's night girlfriend, Lacey, was on shift that night and took care of everything. I snuggled into the pleather recliner. Lacey opened the incubator and started to arrange his tubes. The nurses there are so amazing with these little teeny babies. It was so comforting to see her pick him up. She was so comfortable holding him, treating him like he was a full term newborn, with a little more caution for his tubes and breakable body. Before I knew it, he was on my chest. Instantly his respiratory rate calmed and he relaxed. Lacey taped his breathing tube, feeding tube, and IV to my shoulder, and also to the chair in one or two more places, just to make sure they didn't get pulled out. She laid a few warm blankets on him and me and left us. Dustin and I could not stop smiling. I realized that all the fear I had began to melt away. He was our baby. I was sure I would bawl the first time I held him, but I was grinning ear to ear.  I could barely feel his weight on my torso. His head was about the size of a baseball and it fit just below my collarbone. His scrawny little body down to his toes reached a few inches above my belly button. I could feel him breathing. I could see his furry back and face. He looked up at me when I talked.

my eyes are crazy, but it is the only one with him
looking up at me the first time I held him :)

He must have liked his time being held, because the next night I walked in to see a used kit from the respiratory therapists. At first my heart jumped because I thought something was wrong. Then I realized I could see more of his face because he was breathing with just a CPAP, he was no longer intubated! Two days later, the girls got to meet him for the first time. Dustin also held him. When he did, Eli was swaddled. Like a big boy. Our baby, who was just over a week old and gestationally 31 weeks was doing things that seemed so normal for a full term baby. Things that I would have never imagined. This was just the beginning. 

Tell Me

Tell me they will need me for the rest of their lives. Tell me they will need me to cover them up at night and give them hugs and kisses. Tell me they will always need to have me close. Tell me they will need me to get them band aids and wash their hair. Tell me they will need me to hold them after their bath in a warm towel. Tell me they will need me to brush their hair and read them books. Tell me they will always need me to hold their hand. Tell me they will always want to snuggle me in the morning and lay by me at night. Tell me they will stop growing so fast. Tell me that no matter how old or big or beautiful or handsome they are, they will always need me. Tell me these things so I can know they are true, and remind me for the rest of my life so I can remember.

Dear Friends and Family

How is it possible to cram one year's worth of accomplishments into a slideshow for Eli? 

How is it possible to show he needed help breathing for 2 weeks, an incubator for 7 weeks, and a feeding tube for 8 weeks? How can I show you how excited we were when he came home? How could we show you that the Iron-Hide toy that once was almost as tall as him now is just the same size as his head? How can I express our gratitude for his first home at UW? How could you see how much we cherish the doctors who brought him here and the doctors,nurses, nurse practitioners, and respiratory therapists who kept him here? How can I prove he grew from being a featherweight champ at 2 pounds 3 ounces to being our heavyweight champ at 15 pounds? How can you see that he out grew his pants and sleepers and shirts and onsies by growing 12 inches in one year? Don't you want to hear his kitten cry one more time? How can you see him do all his tricks? How Can you see the love his sisters have for him? How can I show you how proud we are of him? I wish I could show you our memories that we have stored inside our hearts and heads. I wish I could make a video of all the miracles we have witnessed. I wish I could show you the people that Eli has brought into our lives. I wish I could show you how much we love our Heavenly Father and His Son. I wish I could tell you who Eli's angel guardians were in the NICU. I may not be able to show or tell you all these things, but I hope after you watch his First Year in pictures and videos, you might be able witness a few. 

I hope you like it,
love The Soptich's

About When I Fell in Love

***I wrote this out in 2008 and wanted to repost it with our big 8th anniversary coming up in a few days, and it being 11 years since our first memorial day "late night" I talk about in the story. It still makes me laugh***

I remember being in high school (an innocent 16 year old girl) day dreaming about my prince. I am sure that a day didn't go by when Kaisa (BFFL) and I had thoughts of some dream guy picking us up and spinning us around in slow motion like in a fairy tale. We used to always talk about how magical it would be to find that special someone.

On Memorial Day weekend of my Junior year when I was 17, I met someone. He was the first "Mormon" boy I had ever been able to find anything in common with. He was extremely handsome too (doesn't hurt). That Saturday night we were watching TV sitting on the couch together. He got up to go to the bathroom and I (never without a plan, and believe me, mine and Kaisa's plans ALWAYS worked) strategically layed down where he was sitting so he had no choice but to sit Extra CLOSE to me. We actually stayed up ALL night just talking, seriously that is all we did...well maybe while we were talking we were sitting even extra closer.

He seemed to fit my checklist perfectly, the one that every young woman is encouraged to make. This was probably because up until then I had never made that checklist. The night that I got home after meeting him, my checklist was made and he mysteriously fit every one! I promise you though, even though I may have been thinking of him while I made it, I honestly could not find one thing missing or not up to par with what I wanted. SO that was it, I was smitten. Him, not so much until a couple months later. So the story goes on.

That summer my parents moved to Utah, much to my dismay. My parents were awesome and I was blessed to be able to move in with Kaisa in September and finish my senior year at my same High School. This was only a couple hours away from my prince who happened to be Kaisa's cousin. I spent the summer in Utah with my family and made tons of great memories. Between visits from family a lot of friends came to visit as well. Meanwhile, prince charming was back in Washington. I got a few short phone calls/one-liner emails like "I am really busy" and cool stuff like that. Needless to say, I felt like I was at the bottom of his list.

So the end of August rolled around and I made my way back to Washington to move in with said BFF. The first weekend back, guess who showed up? Yep, the prince himself. I guess he had some strategic planning skills too. He also showed up the next weekend, and for some reason he decided to kiss me. Hmm. I was ok with this.

After many weekend trips with him coming to see me and me going to see him, the reality of our relationship came to life when he recieved his mission call to Mexico. After only a few short months of dating, he was to leave in February. The next couples months seemed to fly by, with even fewer weekend trips possible because of the holidays. I was set to graduate from High School in the end of January and he was leaving for TWO years.

The last weekend we spent together, he was set apart as a missionary. We drove to Puyallup to a baby blessing (2 hours), sat through church (3 hours), luncheon afterwards (a couple more hours), all of this and we can't even hold hands! We had our "electrifying handshake" as Grandma Barrett calls it and went our separate ways. So, I finished high school in late January and moved to Utah. He reported to the Missionary Training Center the next week.

My parents and brothers met him for the first time when he was in the MTC. Another strategic plan. They seemed to approve and I continued to wait for my prince to swing me around in slow motion.

After about 18 months of Dustin being in Mexico, I dated some other "princes", but they were always meant for another princess. Assuring me that my prince had been found a few years back, I just had to wait for him to return, and he did.

In February of 2004 he came back to save me. I flew in from Utah for the first weekend he was home. It was like a dream...had it really been 2 years? It seemed like he was here the whole time. It was like we never were apart. After yet another short weekend trip (added to the list from 2 years before), I flew home for 2 weeks and couldn't stand it so I bought another plane ticket to Seattle. This was the last time, I had to find out what our relationship was going to be. This man who was supposed to be my prince wouldn't talk about the "M" word AT ALL. Leading me to believe he didn't want to marry me, although I knew he loved me. He told me.

That short weekend in March finally came. On Saturday morning he wanted to take me on a hike, but had to fill the truck up with gas first and wouldn't let me join him. He came back and we went on our hike. He had packed a romantic picnic, cheese and crackers and sparkling cider. I still thought nothing because last I heard, the "m" word was a bad one. Next thing I know, he started asking what I wanted in the future. I wanted to marry the man I love, I wanted to be with him forever and be forever happy and have a forever family. He got on one knee and made me stand up. Pulled out a little jewelry box (I seriously was prepping myself to get a set of earrings or something) and said he wanted to spend forever with me, and I with him. So there was a ring on my finger (picked up while getting gas I guess) a prettier one than I had ever imagined, and he swung me around in slow motion. A strategic plan? Oh yes, he had one.

We were married in May of 2004 and for the first time EVER, we spent more than 4 days together. My prince and me.

As I was listening to Taylor Swifts new song Love Story, I couldn't help but have flashbacks of the longing to have a prince like in the song. It used to be all I could think about, now it is all that I have and I wouldn't want it any other way. I can only imagine the strategic plans that lie in our future. I do know one plan for sure, I will have a forever husband, with a forever family, and be forever happy.

Dear Mom

I thought about you today. I thought about you when Kendall woke me up this morning and I was startled when she tapped my arm. I thought about you when I got out of bed and got her breakfast. I looked in the sink at my dirty dishes from the day before and wished I was more like you. I thought how you always do the dishes before you go to bed every night, even the hand-washables. I think about you a lot, you know. I think about you when I sew. When I make a mistake and have to unstitch a whole seam by hand because my brain wasn't working right. I think about you when I lose my balance and almost trip over my own feet. I think about you at church when Rylin lays her head on my lap and I rub her back. I think about you when I come home after church and want to have a pepsi with my egg sandwich. Then again when I wish my egg sandwich was on home made wheat bread. I think about you when I hear you in my voice and when I talk to my sister. When I see Kendall's brown eye's and bucks I think of you. I think about you when I see my reflection. When people tell me how much I look like you, I beam with pride because you are so pretty. 

I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me.

I think about you a lot. 

Happy Mother's Day,

Love you Mam

Dear Sir Bubba Pants

You did it! You are 1! To celebrate turning one, you decided to get pneumonia. That's right. On Monday, you had a super runny nose. On Tuesday you started hacking up a lung. Wednesday morning, you spiked a fever I took you to the doctor, on Thursday to find out that not only did you have a pretty sweet case of pneumonia, you got an overnight stay in the hospital. It was so much fun. After the nurses got your IV started in the crook of your arm, the IV pump decided to beep every 15 minutes until a nurse came to reset it. For the whole entire time you were hooked up. Even all night. It was awesome. I may have silenced the alarms a time or two. A student nurse may have came in and asked me how I did it. You slept good that night for the first time all week. They had started fluids and also an antibiotic. I tried to enjoy your warm body sleeping on me since you are so busy these days.

My snuggle times with you these day are few and far between. You only let me rock you to sleep maybe once a week. On the other nights you like to tornado out of my arms and off my lap, earning you a trip to your bed so you can chew and suck on your star blanket until you pass out on your own. You learned to army crawl just last week. It is fun watching you. You are such a determined little boy. You see what you want across the room and scoot your way over to it as fast as you can. Before you knew how to scoot, you would roll to your destination. Even turning the right direction for your rolling skills to get you to the correct end point. I have a bunch of pictures of you getting stuck under things. You still get stuck under a lot even with the army crawl. The only difference now is you can usually get yourself out of it! Ry and Kennel love to "lead" you places. They hold a toy that you like (usually my flip flop) in front of your face and slowly walk away from you. You, of course, follow. You love to clap, high five, and attack our cheeks with slobbery kisses. You have 2 teeth and you like to bite now too. You weighed a whopping 14 pounds at your appointment when you were sick last week. I think it's a little low since you hadn't eaten in 2 days by that time. So we have a plan for you to eat daddy's protein smoothies to get you back on track!

You like to eat some "real" food now. You like to shove so many cheerios in your mouth, you end up choking. As you choke, you are shoving more into your mouth. You like ice-cream (of course), love yogurt every morning, little pieces of my donuts, mac and cheese, and you can drink through a straw. You don't love to chew. You still try to swallow everything whole, hence the choking on cheerios. Maybe you will be our fast eater?! You love all kinds of crackers and drinking bottles especially in the middle of the night. After you have your middle of the night bottle, you pass out and I like to hold you a little extra.

I want you to know that you can accomplish anything you put your mind to. You are so determined. I want you to remember that you are a fighter. You fought for this life and you don't want to skip a beat. I want you to know that you will catch up. You have only been scooting for a week and already yesterday decided to get up on your knees a few times. I want you to know that we celebrated your birthday by walking. Grandpa and Grandma Soptich, Aunt Sar, Uncle Kyle, Aunt Manda and Ellie, Miss Holly, Joanna and Roy, and your sisters and dad and I walked 3 miles with you. We did this for a lot of reasons. One is to  raise money to help babies that are born too early. I want you to know that it was the perfect way to close a roller coaster year. I want you to know you are strong. I want you to remember what it feels like to be close to your Heavenly Father. I want you to remember you will always have his strength behind you. I want you to know that we celebrate you everyday. You are our favorite brother, our powerful son, and our greatest story to tell. I want you to know that you will change people. You have been changing lives since the day you came into this world. We love you, Eli. Happy 1st Birthday.

Seeing Him

When Dustin and his dad got to the hospital, they went to the registration desk. After asking where they could find me, they were told I was just getting out of surgery. You can imagine the surprise he felt, only last hearing from me when I was in the ambulance and I told him about the traffic from the dumped over milk truck. He just found out that not only was his wife in surgery, but his son was already in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). They made their way to see Eli for the first time and were amazed at what they saw. He was 996 grams (2 pounds, 3 ounces) and about 14 inches long. Dustin said there were tubes everywhere, and he was definitely concerned. The best part of this story is about Eli's nurse. To give you a little background info, my husband works hard for a living. By that I mean, his hands are stained with dirt and rough with calluses. His pants look like he has been rolling in the mud, even after they have been washed multiple times. That being said, after scrubbing up at the sink by the entrance to the NICU, he was clean but maybe, just maybe, Eli's very first nurse (Heidi) thought Dustin was too dirty and reminded him to wash up nice and good before even thinking about "touching your baby". After surveying the situation, a son and his father seeing their miniature posterity for the first time, they made their way back to my room and were told I would be back shortly. From what I hear, I was a mess when I returned to the room. I had been on large doses of magnesium, and now a ton of painkillers, add that on top of recovering from the anesthesia from surgery...I was a hot mess! I had to stay on the mag for another 24 hours which would make it hard to go see our baby. 

After a good nights rest in the hospital room (yeah right!) I felt up to making a trip to the NICU. I tried to get out of bed as soon as the magnesium was stopped, but almost passed out. The nurses decided they could wheel the bed down to see Eli. Although it is a huge blur in my brain, I will never forget the trip. We started down the hallway through a few sets of heavy closed doors and turned around what seemed like 50 corners. We made our way through the doors to the NICU and Dustin signed me in. We stopped at the big metal sink so Dustin could scrub up and make sure he was extra clean. I still have no idea how that hospital bed fit down the hallway to Eli's room. I didn't know much about where he was staying, I'm not gonna lie, it was far from fancy and not what I had expected. The bed crashed through the doorway to room 3. There was barely room to fit the head of the bed next to Eli's incubator. I don't really remember my first glimpse of him. He looked like a real baby surprising me with all his hair. He didn't move much and neither did I. I just stared at him, not believing he was ours. I was groggy and pretty out of it so we went back to my room, the bed banging empty incubators and oxygen cans along the way. I don't think I saw him again until either late that night or the next day. I do remember I needed to take a shower. I needed to get up and was beginning to grasp the motivation to do so. Later that night I decided it was time to get up and walk. After gaining my balance and putting on my fancy hospital socks, I did laps around the maternity ward. I think my nurse wanted me to stop but I kept saying I needed to do one more and I needed to take a shower!

Throughout the weekend We made multiple visits to see Elijah. Saturday morning, May 7th, we went to our first morning "rounds". Rounds are a meeting in which the Neonatologist, the Nurse Practitioners, the Residents, the Attendees, and Eli's nurse for the day, all meet to come up with a game plan for each baby in the NICU for the day. Problems with the baby, how to help, what tests to do, and so on. The news for Eli wasn't the best. He had started to turn a dusky grayish blue, he was swelling up and retaining fluid, his heart was enlarged, they needed to check for a brain bleed, and his kidneys and intestines weren't working. Maneesh (the Neonatologist) was so great at explaining this all to us and we left rounds hopeful, but worried. Eli was sick, and they were running tests to find out why. Maneesh told us that so far all the tests they had done came back showing nothing. There was no reason for Eli to be so sick. He hypothesized that Eli had taken such a huge hit on his health right before he was born and that was what he was trying to recover from. In the meanwhile, they kept doing tests incase they missed anything.

On Sunday, I was discharged from the hospital. After going back and forth in my brain about what to do when we got discharged, I decided it was right for me to be home with my family. I couldn't drive, I didn't have a room at the hospital, and our girls needed me. I needed to go home and organize my brain, our new life, and heal before we could plan how to conquer the next 10 weeks with a sick baby in a hospital 2 hours away from our house. So, on Sunday night, we left our 4 day old 996 gram sick baby in the hospital and drove 100 miles away from him. 

About the Day Eli Came to Our Family

This is a long one, but a very special part of our lives that has to be shared :) Even when Eli is 18, we will be sharing his story!

At 23 weeks into my pregnancy with Eli, I started to have high blood pressure.  It was around 140/90. Dr. Garde had me start Labetalol (medicine for HBP) once a day. I had also experienced this with Rylin but it didn’t begin until 34 weeks. We made it safely to 37 weeks. She was only 4 pounds 9 ounces but healthy as could be and I had a complete normal pregnancy with Kendall.

At 27 weeks my high blood pressure was still around 140/90 on the medicine. Dr. Garde   quadrupled my amount of Labetalol and told me to take it easy and spend as much time as possible laying on my left side. Baby boy was a little small but doing fine.  

At 29 weeks Dr. Garde added one more dose of medicine and put me on complete bed rest. I believe my BP was averaging around 160/100 or so. My amniotic fluid was now a little low and baby was measuring a little too small. Luckily, we have a ton of family around to help, and they all jumped right in and took over and a lot of friends started bringing meals. 

On May 3, (day 5 of bed rest) my friend Kara came to keep me company. Funny thing is that my blood pressure was consistently staying around 120/80! I noticed after she left that evening that baby boy hadn’t been moving a ton. I decided it was probably just because I had too much time to sit and pay attention since I was laying down holding still all day. I remember talking to a few people on the phone and mentioning that he hadn’t moved a lot, but also acknowledging that my “mothers intuition” would kick in if there was a real problem. So I tried to relax. 

*blessing/miracle: this is also the same day we (after 2 months) FINALLY got approved to put the kids and my pregnancy on a state health care plan. 

On May 4th, I spent the whole day waiting for baby to move, and he did. He rolled a few times, and nudged me a few times. Nothing as strong as usual, no sharp jabs or kicks to the pelvic bone or ribs. As the evening went on I began to get more worried. My sister in law Amanda made us dinner and hung out for a while. I think my niece (then 6 months) knew something was wrong because she was pretty upset the whole evening which is unusual for her. I tried to sleep, but failed because I was getting really nervous. I had been continuously pushing on my stomach all day trying to get a response from him, only feeling those little nudges. 

On May 5th, I fell asleep around 1 am. I woke up an hour or 2 later to check for movement again, after basically pushing him around in my stomach I felt him do a little roll. I dozed off. Woke again at about 5 am. Got up for a while and then laid in the recliner. This woke Rylin up and she seemed nervous too. I still had not felt a strong movement from baby. I was beginning to get really worried. I texted my doc and told her what was going on. She told us to come in right away to labor and delivery to see what was up. My intuition had kicked in, although I hoped I was over reacting. Grandma Soptich came to sit with the girls until Uncle J could come after work at 7am. Once we got to the hospital -30min drive- I was hooked up to the monitors and baby’s heart rate was pretty good (moment of relief), but he still wasn’t moving a lot. My doctor had the nurses start IV fluids. As we look back, this is when Dustin says he knew something was up, I was started on IV fluids and hadn’t even seen the Doctor yet. My BP was super high at this point. After a while of waiting, the ultrasound tech came in to check for a few things. The first thing they looked for were the black pockets (amniotic fluid) around the baby so they can measure them. The tech was looking everywhere and couldn’t find a black pocket big enough to measure. That is when I knew there was a problem, a big problem. I looked at Dustin and I lost it, before the tech could say anything I knew we had a huge problem. No fluid around our sweet boy. In Dustin’s terms “he was saran wrapped in there” and he really was. After not seeing what they wanted on the ultrasound, Dr Garde came in and said “you earned yourself a helicopter ride to Seattle”. There was no fluid and my BP was super high. She told us that she wasn’t sure how long I would stay pregnant down there. That our baby would probably be delivered in -max- 2 days. Enough time to allow for steroid shots for his lungs. Dustin left to go home to get some things. While he was gone, the helicopter decided it was too windy to fly and I had to go by ambulance. At that point, I had had one steroid shot and they had started magnesium in my IV. After begging Dr. Garde to come with me, I soon was on my way to Seattle, alone, with Dustin hopefully not too far behind. 

*blessing/miracle: the ability to text our OB at 5 am, making it possible to avoid the debacle of trying to contact whoever was on call which would have cost us a few more hours. Do you know how much we LOVE Dr. Garde?

It was a long 2 hour ambulance ride. It felt like we were going 30mph. I texted a few friends to let them know what was going on. I received texts from family saying they had already prayed for us. I still get choked up when I remember the feeling of comfort knowing that I had parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends dropping everything they were doing to get on their knees to pray for us as soon as they heard the news. It is an indescribable feeling. When we were about 20 minutes from the hospital I, of course, was looking out the back of the ambulance and had noticed we passed a dumped over milk truck, and the traffic was beginning to pile up behind it. I knew Dustin and his dad would get stuck behind it. We barely missed the backup as it was. 

*blessing/miracle: not getting trapped in the traffic. 

When we arrived at UWMC, it took maybe 10ish minutes until I was in my room. A few minutes after this, two nurses were helping get baby on the monitor. My heart rate was in the 80s. One nurse got worried and said that the baby’s was in the 80s as well. Exactly the same as mine. The other nurse said that it was my heart rate and we hadn’t found the baby’s yet. In comes doctor #1 and we found baby on the ultrasound, his heart rate peaked at 130 then dropped again. This was when the nurse put oxygen on me and I knew it was bad and getting worse. Then came a few more people. The anesthesiologist and his entourage came and started asking me a ton of questions. More people came in. Most importantly, the chief resident Dr.Josh came to the head of the bed. He was the first person to make eye contact with me out of the 20ish people who were in there. He explained that baby wasn’t doing well and asked if anyone was coming to be with me. I told him yes but they were stuck in traffic. I also told him that it didn’t matter, I knew the only solution was to get baby out, so lets get it done. I knew he agreed. I had been in this situation before, not as severe, with the same solution. He decided to get me in the OR to monitor me and the baby to see if there was time to wait. After getting to the OR there was a lot of commotion. I was introduced to someone from the NICU and a few more doctors that would be there to help the baby. That is when I realized the journey we were about to make. Dr. Josh and the first doctor kept glancing between each other and the monitors, it didn’t look good. So he made the executive decision to deliver the baby, right away. As I was laying on a cold table, half naked, shaking uncontrollably, with everyone else running around and looking at the monitors, I watched and listened to the conversation between the anesthesiologist and the doctors, trying to hear, trying not to rip the oxygen mask off my face because I couldn’t breath. Epidural? No, it would take too long. Spinal? No, blood pressure too high. I prayed in my mind they would just knock me out all the way and get it over with. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be awake when they got baby boy out of me, I wasn’t sure I could handle seeing him with out my husband by my side. Dr. Josh must have read my mind because he said there wasn’t enough time. Before I knew it, I was being prepped for my cesarean section and counting backward from 10. I was so tired and I remember thinking “don’t close your eyes, because they will think you are passed out when you really aren’t and then start to cut!”. 

The next thing I remember was was hearing my name. I was dreaming. In my dream I remember seeing Ry and her best girl cousin, Brin, walking away from me holding hands. It was sweet. Then I remembered everything and: Ouch! My stomach! The rest is a blur. I semi-remember being rolled into my room. I know that Dustin was there. He was talking to Dr. Josh and said something about his mission and I just remember the two of them laughing because were are all Mormon. 

*blessing/miracle: out of the millions of doctors at the Hospital, I know Dr. Josh was meant to be the one with us. He helped us in so many ways. At some point, I will share more about HIS experience that day.

There were many blessings and miracles that happened to us during the week Eli was born. The few that I listed are just the ones that stand out the most. 

Things That Are Meant To Be

The first time I was pregnant, I developed a pattern. It started when I miscarried that pregnancy. Next, we had a perfectly beautiful baby girl. About one and a half years later, I miscarried again, followed by another healthy beautiful baby girl about a year later. Two years after we had her, I was expecting again.

I was pregnant and was curious if my pattern would continue. If it did, I would lose the pregnancy a few weeks after the positive test. I found out I was pregnant just after Halloween. By Thanksgiving I was smack dab in the middle of the woes of morning (all day) sickness. Towards the 2nd week of December, I was sure all my symptoms were fading. The first ultrasound wasn't scheduled until a few weeks later. I decided I couldn't wait that long, so I called my doctor. In my experience, no symptoms meant no healthy baby growing.

At the ultrasound later that day, everything looked fine. No reason to worry. Eventually I began to feel sick again, another reassurance.

When Eli was born a few months later, he started to get really sick within his first few days of life. He started to turn a grayish dusky blue color and retain fluid. All the nurses, doctors and nurse practitioners were stumped. Finally, when Eli was about a week old, Maneesh (neonatologist) and his team had one last test. It was for me. I needed to be tested for a sickness I could have been carrying called Toxoplasmosis, the kitty litter disease. It is the reason they suggest pregnant women don't clean litter boxes while pregnant. It usually causes miscarriage. Luckily my blood came back negative for this, and a few days later Eli turned a corner and started to do better.

It was after having my blood drawn that I realized how my pattern had been broken. It would have been crazy if I had carried Toxoplasmosis, because in my history it would have meant Eli was supposed to miscarry. We never found out why we had such a sick preemie little mini-boy those first 10 days, but I do know I am thankful the pattern was broken and we have him here with us.

About Our Ten Month Old

 About a year ago, we found out I was carrying a healthy baby boy, about 20 weeks along, but that was last February. Now February is new. It has brought us a 10 month old and it has surprised us.

(Eli at 3 weeks)

Our Ten Month Old claps. He stands in his exersaucer and claps his soft skinned puffy little hands together and smiles his gummy smile ear to ear. Our Ten Month Old thinks we are funny. He squeaks, he growls, he screams, he cries, he laughs. He is happy.

Our Ten Month Old is a baby who wants to eat big boy solid food, but his gag reflex won't let him. While his 10 month old brain tells him to bite a cracker, his 7 1/2 month old gummy mouth won't let him chew. This is something that makes him frustrated. Our Ten Month Old is a boy who wants to be in the middle of all the action and he believes he should be able to, he is a determined little boy who tries so hard to scoot and to move. His brain tells him he can, but his arms and legs won't carry him. Our baby has a 10 month old brain in a 13 pound body.

Our Ten Month Old makes us laugh. He makes smoochy noises, which then makes us all freak out with excitement at a new trick by the baby boy. Our Ten Month Old sits up like a big boy to play with his toys. He drinks from a sippy cup and likes to try feeding himself with a spoon.

Our Tenth Month Old is a healthy boy. A boy who has made it almost through his first winter with no surprise sicknesses. He surprises us every day. He may be different than other babies his age, but he is ours and we love Our Ten Month Old.

(Eli at 10 months)

(*3 weeks after this was written we have been surprised again! Eli eats graham crackers, and vanilla wafers like a champ. He also is learning to scoot and rolling everywhere. He got his first tooth and the second isn't far behind. Just this morning, he decided he knows how to make consonant sounds - dada, blabla, baba, and has been shouting them all day!)

Dear Kennel

I know this letter to you is a little late. I have wanted to start one since your birthday, but I just don't know how to put your crazy personality into words. Over the last month I have been thinking daily about what to tell you. So, now that I know what I want to say, here it goes.

You just turned three and three is a magical age around here. I have noticed that things change with a 3 year old. You have become a tester of the rules. At dinner time, you like to not eat your meal. The usual encouragement for us is to tell you that if you don't at least try to eat, you will go to bed. Well, when we say this to you, you tell us that you are ready for bed. When it is raining outside and you want to play out there, I tell you to put a coat on because you will be cold and wet, you tell me you want to be cold and wet...that you like it. When I make you a sandwich you tell me that you are done and "full" after only a few bites. You L-O-V-E your purple pillow. You would lay on it all day sucking your "fumb" if I let you. You love to wear fancy shoes and hate wearing sweaters or jackets.

I want you to know that I LOVE you! You came out as our most snuggly baby, and have remained that way. You have just a little bit of fluff around your bones and it just makes you so squishy. You sneak out of your room after bedtime and ask to snuggle me about every 10 minutes.  I want you to know that you have amazing olive toned skin and always look a little suntanned. I want you to know that you have a lighter spot on your wrist from a blister that you gave yourself (from sucking on it in my tummy) before I had you. I want you to know that when you smile, you scrunch up your whole face. I want you to know that you have little "bucks" from sucking your thumb and you love to show them to everyone! All we have to do is say "show us your bucks" and you smile your hugest buckiest smile we have ever seen. I want you to know that your huge brown eyes stare into my soul. You have the longest darkest eye lashes that surround your brown eyes and one puppy dog look is all it takes to make me smitten. I want you to know that I have been smitten since the day you were born.

I want you to know that you are funny. I want you to know that you are capable of making everyone laugh. The other day we had the missionaries over for dinner. You were prancing around being goofy, not really saying anything and they just kept laughing at you, not even knowing why. They just said you are funny. I want you to know that we all knew you were funny from the beginning. Something about the way you looked at me made me laugh. I want you to know that I remember telling your Grandmas how funny you were and you could barely even smile.

I want you to know that you are a vital part to our family. I want you to know that you look up to your big sister. You love to play with her, and she loves to play with you. I want you to know that you two are seldom apart from each other. You will stay in your room and play dolls for 3 hours straight on some days. I want you to know that she needs you. You make her happy. I want you to know that there are many times when she is just relaxing and you walk into the room and instantly she lights up. You do something goofy, then she will look at me and chuckle. She knows that you make her happy. I want you to know that Your baby brother needs you. He needs to know that when you came to see him in the hospital, you just stared at him and did nothing but calmly wonder and worry about him. I want you to know that you said prayers for him. I want you to know that you are going to help him find funny things as he gets older. You are going to show him how to be naughty!

I want you to know that you will brighten peoples days for the rest of your life. I want you to always remember you are capable of doing so.

Love you,
Mom