Dear Ruby,
Yesterday you turned 4 months old. Can I tell you how you have turned mama's life upside down? Since I first found out you were growing in my belly, I have been consumed with love for you. That alone takes up the majority of my thoughts and emotions throughout the day. There isn't one thing I don't love about you. Your messy diapers, snotty nose, and car alarm-like wail when you are hungry and just too tired to be patient any longer grasp their tiny little fingers around my heart and I can barely breathe. Even better are your smiles when I rock and feed you in the middle of the night, the way you talk and coo in your crib in the morning as I get ready for work. I imagine you are saying "Good morning, Mama! Good morning, sunlight! Good morning, birdies! Good morning, fingers! Good morning, toes!" You are just so happy and delighted to be alive - the feeling is contagious.
I love the way your hair refuses to be tamed. Granted, some days it looks as I often feel: worn out. But most days your hair stands brightly on end as though you are so thrilled and surprised that even your hair has to shout for joy. I love your beautiful eyes that seem tell the secrets of your heart to me. They haven't yet decided on a color; some days blue, others brown, but often hazel... it doesn't matter to me if they are yellow; they communicate to me how you feel and what you think when your mouth doesn't know yet how. I feel so connected to you through your eyes and in them I can see your future - one filled with laughter and joy and love... so much love. Your heavy, squishy cheeks begged to be kissed and I do that as often as you will allow. Everyone says your mouth and chin are a replica of mine and I am so grateful for that. That somewhere in you, people can see a glimpse of me, and know that you are mine. Your arms and legs, which at one time were so thin and spindly our family had to laugh because never before had there been a Vettleson with thin legs, now filling out and the only word to describe them is pleasantly plump. Your beautiful olive skin is perfection. You haven't had a diaper rash or a touch of baby acne yet.
You, lovely little person, have such a good-natured, patient attitude. You are cautious with your smiles, like you know what a rare and beautiful gem it is and you don't want to show it to just anybody, but when you do, it's a megawatt smile that quickly travels up your face and causes fireworks to explode in your eyes. You are rarely mad and if I take too long warming a bottle, well, that's the way it goes and you understand. You have only been sick once, and before it happened, you being sick was something I dreaded. But your good nature and willingness to please had you smiling through the snot and playing despite the cough. If it happens that you are scared or upset, a quick snuggle to my chest with your head tucked under my chin calms you quickly. These are the moments I live for; the moments where you have complete faith in me and I can comfort you. I treasure these moments because I know one day a snuggle to my chest and a soft whisper won't soothe you and a kiss to your forehead won't take your problems away. But for now, it is enough.
Ruby, there are so many things I wish for you. I wish you to have a strong faith in God because He is the only way. I will do everything I can to help you grow and love God and find comfort in Him. I wish you to know peace and love and kindness - and the wisdom to practice each. I see a future for you as bright as the sun and I pray to God to give me the grace and wisdom to help you reach your dreams. I could go on, but many of the hopes and dreams I have for you may not be the ones you have for yourself, so for now, they will be between God and me.
I hope you know how proud and happy you have made me. My dreams have come true because I have you.
Love,
Mama
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Blessings
Since Miss Ruby was born, there have been so many little moments in time that have made me stop in my tracks, tears pouring down my face, and I have to bow my head and pray a prayer of thanks to God for all that he has blessed me with. I was never like that before. Dealing with depression for years, I always was grasping at straws, trying to find something positive, something to give thanks for. I don't even have to search for it now. It seems like, with the birth of Ruby, the veil has been swept away and I am able to see clearly all the lovely things and people in my life. There are too many hurts and angers in my past... I don't want to focus on them anymore. I feel like I have learned my lessons and I need to stop beating myself up for my mistakes. I want to focus on my blessings and even on bad days, find something to say "thank you" for. So, that's what I want to write about from this point forward.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
A birth story: welcome to the world Ruby
Since my little jelly bean decided to arrive early, I have received many questions as to what happened, how and why she was born so early. She arrived at 33 weeks exactly and although she was early, she was a healthy baby girl. My little Ruby...
Here goes...
Ms. Ruby was born on Monday, January 16, 2012, at 9:52 p.m., which happened to Martin Luther King Jr. day and I was on holiday from work. That morning I had run to Target to pick up a few baby things and some groceries to stock up for Ruby's birth; however, after picking out baby items, I was weary and didn't have the energy to pick up the groceries, so I made the trip quick and headed back home. Once home I began washing baby clothes and organizing. Only the day before had my parents come to town to deliver a crib and dresser and help me to set up, arrange, and prepare. So, I was gingerly folding baby clothes and placing them in the new, beautiful dresser my parents had refurbished for me, when at about 4:00 p.m. my water broke. I made a few frantic phone calls to my doctor, doula, and of course, Mom. Everyone told me to go to the hospital to get checked out. The doctor's office told me that they really doubted it was my water that broke, but just to be safe it was best to get examined.
So, I went up to the hospital at about 5:30. By that time, a dull back ache was beginning. At the hospital, they put me in a gown and hooked me up to monitors right away. The contractions monitor showed mild "irritation" but no real contractions. My mom arrived at the hospital shortly before 6:00. My doctor, clearly irritated, came around 6:30, where he examined me and some fluid under a microscope and declared that I had a bladder infection and it was time for me to go home. By this time, the dull back ache had become a pretty hefty ache, but the doctor and nurse said that bladder infections could cause back aches. The doctor left, the monitors were taken off, and I was told to get dressed and go home. During this, the ache became so painful and intense I was throwing up. The nurse looked at me sympathetically and my mother pleaded with her that something was seriously wrong, but yet again, I was told to dress and go home. I said, even if this is a bladder infection, could I have tylenol. The nurse denied me Tylenol! She said I could get some at the pharmacy when I picked up the prescription for my bladder infection. Mom and I, baffled and terrified, slowly left the hospital at 8:30 p.m. I was doubled over in pain, couldn't focus, and barely could walk.
In denial and terror, my mother drove me to the pharmacy where she went inside to get the prescription. At this time I started to feel contractions. I believe I was having contractions the entire time but the labor in my back was so intense I couldn't feel the contractions in my tummy. But, waiting in the car, WHOA, did I feel them then! Finally, much to my relief, Mom came back to the car and quickly drove me home. I don't remember walking from the car to my apartment and the tunnel vision from that point on was so narrow that it seems like a dream. I labored in bed, on the couch, on the floor, finally on the toilet. The relief of sitting on the toilet brought on the urge to bear down. Mom frantically dialed 911 and the ambulance arrived at about 9:35 p.m... only 1 hour after we left the hospital...
The baby's head crowned in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the paramedics pleading with me to not push was like asking the world to stop turning. I could only describe my body taking over like uncontrollable convulsions. I remember paramedics, doctors, and a slug of nurses running my gurney down the hallways of the hospital and arriving in a delivery room where a different doctor told me that it was finally ok for me to push. One and a half pushes and my precious baby, Ruby, was delivered at a grand total of 4 pounds 12 ounces and 18 inches long. The screaming and crying that baby did would cause anyone to believe she was an outraged full-term baby! One very kind nurse held Ruby up for me to catch a quick look before they rushed her to the NICU where they hooked her up to breathing tubes, feeding tubes, IVs, and monitors.
I held my baby girl for the first time 12 hours later. She smiled for the first time 12 hours later. I named her 12 hours later. She was baptized 15 hours later. But I fell in love the very first second.
Here goes...
Ms. Ruby was born on Monday, January 16, 2012, at 9:52 p.m., which happened to Martin Luther King Jr. day and I was on holiday from work. That morning I had run to Target to pick up a few baby things and some groceries to stock up for Ruby's birth; however, after picking out baby items, I was weary and didn't have the energy to pick up the groceries, so I made the trip quick and headed back home. Once home I began washing baby clothes and organizing. Only the day before had my parents come to town to deliver a crib and dresser and help me to set up, arrange, and prepare. So, I was gingerly folding baby clothes and placing them in the new, beautiful dresser my parents had refurbished for me, when at about 4:00 p.m. my water broke. I made a few frantic phone calls to my doctor, doula, and of course, Mom. Everyone told me to go to the hospital to get checked out. The doctor's office told me that they really doubted it was my water that broke, but just to be safe it was best to get examined.
So, I went up to the hospital at about 5:30. By that time, a dull back ache was beginning. At the hospital, they put me in a gown and hooked me up to monitors right away. The contractions monitor showed mild "irritation" but no real contractions. My mom arrived at the hospital shortly before 6:00. My doctor, clearly irritated, came around 6:30, where he examined me and some fluid under a microscope and declared that I had a bladder infection and it was time for me to go home. By this time, the dull back ache had become a pretty hefty ache, but the doctor and nurse said that bladder infections could cause back aches. The doctor left, the monitors were taken off, and I was told to get dressed and go home. During this, the ache became so painful and intense I was throwing up. The nurse looked at me sympathetically and my mother pleaded with her that something was seriously wrong, but yet again, I was told to dress and go home. I said, even if this is a bladder infection, could I have tylenol. The nurse denied me Tylenol! She said I could get some at the pharmacy when I picked up the prescription for my bladder infection. Mom and I, baffled and terrified, slowly left the hospital at 8:30 p.m. I was doubled over in pain, couldn't focus, and barely could walk.
In denial and terror, my mother drove me to the pharmacy where she went inside to get the prescription. At this time I started to feel contractions. I believe I was having contractions the entire time but the labor in my back was so intense I couldn't feel the contractions in my tummy. But, waiting in the car, WHOA, did I feel them then! Finally, much to my relief, Mom came back to the car and quickly drove me home. I don't remember walking from the car to my apartment and the tunnel vision from that point on was so narrow that it seems like a dream. I labored in bed, on the couch, on the floor, finally on the toilet. The relief of sitting on the toilet brought on the urge to bear down. Mom frantically dialed 911 and the ambulance arrived at about 9:35 p.m... only 1 hour after we left the hospital...
The baby's head crowned in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the paramedics pleading with me to not push was like asking the world to stop turning. I could only describe my body taking over like uncontrollable convulsions. I remember paramedics, doctors, and a slug of nurses running my gurney down the hallways of the hospital and arriving in a delivery room where a different doctor told me that it was finally ok for me to push. One and a half pushes and my precious baby, Ruby, was delivered at a grand total of 4 pounds 12 ounces and 18 inches long. The screaming and crying that baby did would cause anyone to believe she was an outraged full-term baby! One very kind nurse held Ruby up for me to catch a quick look before they rushed her to the NICU where they hooked her up to breathing tubes, feeding tubes, IVs, and monitors.
I held my baby girl for the first time 12 hours later. She smiled for the first time 12 hours later. I named her 12 hours later. She was baptized 15 hours later. But I fell in love the very first second.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Cloud 9
I'm expecting a baby girl March 5. Exactly 2 months from today. I can barely contain my excitement!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Conundrum
This has been the summer of change. I haven't posted in a while because my life has exploded before my very eyes and although there is so much to say, I can't find the words. It has been a summer of learning... learning acceptance, love, forgiveness, patience, and most importantly, trust. Trust in God (something I have never, ever been good at).
I feel like I have sat the summer in contemplative meditation. I think it is time to start taking action. I need to develop a plan and work it through by baby steps.
I feel like I have sat the summer in contemplative meditation. I think it is time to start taking action. I need to develop a plan and work it through by baby steps.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Independence weekend
This past weekend was Independence Day weekend. The weather was spectacular. Maybe it felt especially amazing after our non-existent summer thus far. I find it hard to conjure up the words to describe a beautiful summer day in Minnesota, but here I will try to describe how I experience the magic of this amazing season.
The summer light is so bright even squinting is not enough; the blue sky appears to be a seamless sheet so delicately draped over the emerald plushness of the land. The sky so blue, and nearly... yes, nearly clairvoyant, it clears all clouds from my heart and reminds me of nothing except my blessings. And the trees! The trees! They rustle and whisper and coyly hide the twittering birds among their leaves. All the soft movements they make remind me of a slow waltz. Petunias and begonias smile their brilliant pink and red blossoms as their leaves slowly curl to escape the heat. The hardy long grass of the fields sway with the breeze, and yet, even they seem to wilt a bit under the oppressive heat.
The animals retreat to any reprieve of the blinding light they may find. In the shade of an old maple tree, the horse hangs her head, bored, as her long tail swishes at the flies. The dog lays flat on his side beneath the porch with his head splayed back. He lifts his head and pants; his tongue in sync with his inflating... deflating belly.
Looking up to the crystalline sky through tittering oak leaves, a little reservoir in my chest springs a leak of joy; it spurts and sputters until it has broken through and becomes a flood into my veins.
The summer light is so bright even squinting is not enough; the blue sky appears to be a seamless sheet so delicately draped over the emerald plushness of the land. The sky so blue, and nearly... yes, nearly clairvoyant, it clears all clouds from my heart and reminds me of nothing except my blessings. And the trees! The trees! They rustle and whisper and coyly hide the twittering birds among their leaves. All the soft movements they make remind me of a slow waltz. Petunias and begonias smile their brilliant pink and red blossoms as their leaves slowly curl to escape the heat. The hardy long grass of the fields sway with the breeze, and yet, even they seem to wilt a bit under the oppressive heat.
The animals retreat to any reprieve of the blinding light they may find. In the shade of an old maple tree, the horse hangs her head, bored, as her long tail swishes at the flies. The dog lays flat on his side beneath the porch with his head splayed back. He lifts his head and pants; his tongue in sync with his inflating... deflating belly.
Looking up to the crystalline sky through tittering oak leaves, a little reservoir in my chest springs a leak of joy; it spurts and sputters until it has broken through and becomes a flood into my veins.
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