My Charlie

Dear Mister Charlie,

When you came out and the doctor pronounced you a boy, your Dad and I looked at each other kind of like "we know!"  I had that feeling the whole time, but then I thought it was because I just wanted a boy.  The last few weeks, I even prayed that if you were to come out and be a girl that I wouldn't be disappointed.  And that worked because I really did get just as excited at the thought of a girl.  But there you were... my little man.

You got off to a rough start at life.  You came out blue and for the first five minutes, all I could do was hold your dad's hand and pray the word "Please."  Over and over and over.  And then I waited too long to try to feed you (though many people assured me it wasn't my fault) and your blood sugar got low and we started a cycle of it being too low for you to want to eat and having to give you a bottle and your body temperature dropping.  And that landed you in the NICU.  After they regulated your blood sugar within 24 hours, they said your sodium levels were low and it was concerning that you hadn't lost weight.  Your dad was logical about this... you were on an IV so you were being overhydrated which meant your sodium would be low and you wouldn't lose as much weight as a normal baby losing water weight!  But still we stayed there in the NICU for four days.  Four very, very long days and even longer nights.  While you were there you had at least 20 heel pricks, an IV in each of your hands plus an extra hole from a botched attempt, a Hepatitis B shot, a circumcision and your "tongue tie" clipped.  And through it all, you were amazing.  The doctors all commented on your sweet spirit and mellow personality.  You were truly a trooper.

And then you came home.  To your home that had been prepared just for you (okay, the wet bar isn't for you...) and the people who were here to take care of you.  Your B (BeckyLozier's brand new name!) made more meals than she'd had to make in the last year, did more laundry than she's had to do in the last ten years and generally made sure your mother was alive so that she could keep you alive.  I have never been more thankful for my mom.  When she left, she told me that I was ready.  She said, "we've been preparing your house and preparing you for this for months.  And you're ready."  I never felt less ready for anything in my life.

Speaking of not being ready for something... I was NOT prepared for the crying.  Oh the crying that took place from the minute you finally returned to me after many hours after you were born, hungry but with blood sugar so low that you wouldn't eat and I didn't know how to feed you (it's a long story that makes me angry just thinking about it) to the first night I left you to go to dinner with my family to the night B left to the first night I didn't sleep with you in your room just three nights ago... I didn't know that the tiniest things would trigger tears.  Many, many tears.  And there have been tears of joy, too.  I look at you and think "You're mine!  All mine!" and it overwhelms me to the point of tears.

I already know some things about you...
- You are "the tornado" (as we called you in the NICU)... you are perfectly happy until you are not.  And then you start yelling at high speeds until the issue is resolved.
- You don't mind getting your nails filed when you are napping on my lap.
- Right as you are closing your eyes and drifting to sleep, you often bust out with a huge grin.  I wonder what you are grinning about.
- If you have a full tummy, you don't mind getting a bath.
- You love your Mama Roo.
- Everyone says that you have a very strong neck.  I don't know what's normal, but I do know that your Pop (my dad's new name) calls you his overachiever, so I can only assume that you must excel in this category... among others!
- You're awesome.

And here you are...

I love you so much.  You are napping right now across the room, just six feet away... and it's possible that I actually miss you!  Is that lame or just a new fact of life?  I'm okay with it.  I will snuggle with you again soon.

Love,
Mom