Saturday, May 23, 2009

#5 Turns 5

Five years ago I was having my last baby. Odd, since I thought that I had done that two years earlier with Camden (who I haven't still haven't done a birthday post for yet - sorry buddy. It's coming soon, I promise).

After having four kids in 5 years, we were done. DONE. SOOOOOO done. On top of all the little bodies to keep track of, Brendan was becoming a handful....to put it mildly. He had always been a challenge, but I was just beginning to realize how all consuming this challenge of autism was going to be. And how, unlike I had secretly hoped for, it wasn't getting any easier as he got older. Forget trying to be a "good" mother; I was trying to survive. Please God, let me get through this day. Just this day. If I can just make it until bedtime without losing my mind, I'll never ask for another thing as long as I live.

Camden was 18 months old when I talked to the doctor about getting my tubes tied. And called the insurance to make sure it would be covered. And talked to Roger to see when he could take off a few days from work. He would be going out of town for a few weeks, so it would have to wait until after he got back.

(Too much information alert- Just skip ahead to the photos.)

One night. On my period. With protection.

Roger came back 2 1/2 weeks later and had a dream.

"I think you're pregnant."

"Impossible - you've been gone. Unless, of course, it's not yours...."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." (as serious as I can be when talking about the IMPOSSIBLE.)

My next period would be starting again any day. Probably tomorrow. Yep, definitely tomorrow because I'm sure that I can feel the cramps. But tomorrow came and went. Nothing. So I just waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A few days later I opened up the fridge and was bombarded with the smell of mustard and raw meat and carrots and watermelon cherry gogurt and the spaghetti that I should've thrown out days ago.....and I knew. I went and got a test and prayed as hard as you can pray while driving home from Walmart that I was wrong. That the dream was wrong. Because having another baby was the WRONG thing for our family.

I spent the rest of the day locked in my room crying. The crying lasted for weeks. Who are we kidding? The whole pregnancy to be exact, followed by an way too emotional post partum. A year of crying is good for you, right?

What were we doing? What happened to free agency? How in the world would we manage with five kids under the age of 7? Why couldn't the Lord send this baby to a family that had been praying desperately for a child? A family that could give this baby the love and attention it would need? Because I couldn't do it - I had nothing left to give.

That next week in church an older couple sat behind us and the woman leaned forward and whispered sweetly, "You've sure got your hands full," as I played my usual game of keeping the kiddos quiet, fully clothed and within the confines of the pew. I died inside. "You have no idea."

The 20 week ultrasound discovered that I had placenta previa, which I was foolish enough to research on the internet. Tons of information, message boards, forums....many of which told the stories of people who had the same condition and ended up losing the baby. I felt a tremendous weight in my chest and the tears started again. I was being punished: I didn't want this baby and now the Lord was going to take him away. And in my heart I knew it would be all because of me. I just knew that it would happen and then I would have to face my husband who would say: "Well your prayers were answered. You didn't want a baby, so the Lord took it back." Up until this point, he had remained calm. Excited even. Always telling me that it everything would be fine. That I could change a diaper with my eyes closed and nurse a baby without ever waking up. "What's one more boy? We can do this! I know you, and you're going to take one look at that baby and fall in love..."

And he was right.

Months later we had our Hayden Bradley. My first c-section, which was indeed a blessing since he decided to take the title of my biggest baby at 9 pounds, 6 ozs. I was thrilled that I didn't have to push that big ol' Thanksgiving turkey out the other way and even more excited that since everything was "out in the open" already, it was even easier to take care of the problem get things tied up once and for all, if you know what I'm sayin'. We took him home and the past 9 months fizzled away. My baby. This sweet little spirit that was somehow deemed strong enough to be able to make it through the tough life that he had ahead of him.

All that time worrying about him, when in reality I should have been worrying about me. Our sweet little spirit turned out to be Mr. Trouble with a capital T. Strong willed, sneaky, and a fighter. Qualities neccessary to survive, but not so enjoyable when you need to get in and out of Target in under an hour. Five years later and not much has changed, as anyone who's spent anytime in Primary on Sundays will quickly confirm. He's still up to stuff like this, but he wouldn't be our Haydo Potato any other way.

C'mon - who can resist a boy with sparkles?

Or his leftovers.

To watch him grow, check out last years slide show.

13 comments:

  1. He looks SO happy in those pics -- I bet he really felt super loved that day. You are one amazing mamma!!

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  2. What a darling family you have! Congratulations on the 5th birthday.

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  3. Boys are nuts, but so fun! I'm sure he's a blessing to your family. He's such a cute kid.

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  4. I had to go back and watch the slideshow from last year. He's such a cute boy!

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  5. Amazing how fast 5 Years go by, isn't it. e looks so happy. Now I understand why his creative side comes out.

    Love,

    Mom

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  6. who says immaculate conception only happenned once? I also had placentia previa with Sheldon. Started bleeding in Salt Lake City in the middle of the night in a hotel room. Alone. 7 months. 911 and a week long stay in a hospital in SLC. Had a mediation hearing the next day in Fresno with ex. More court stuff to flollow. Was put on struck bed rest. It felt like a punishment. Was God going to take away one son to retain another. What son was it going to be? Evrrything bombed with the custody stuff. Hard to fight in a bed 275 miles away. But we survived. Both senarios. No one was sacrificed. I still have 2 wonderful boys. My conclusion. Learn to give up control and acknowledge and trust the person who has it all. I'm sure you have realized this. Through Camden. And Brendan. From them all.
    You have me crying... Only cause I was laughing so hard... Yeah... From laughing.

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  7. what a great story! love it! that is exactly how gracie came along too. well, not all the dramatics but the whole getting pregnant on the period thing and not knowing and then being stressed when i found out since we had NO INSURANCE! i guess they were meant to be. tell the bday boy we hope he has a happy one!

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  8. He's a contender for cutest 5 year old I've ever seen. His birthday joy/exhilaration/smugness is perfectly captured in those pics. Cutie pie.

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  9. Didn't I take that picture of Simon?

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  10. Aww, he's so cute in all the pictures. Looks like he had a happy birthday. I know glitter always makes my birthdays happy.

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  11. OMGoodness!! How did you get pregnant under those conditions!!! Roger is the man!!!

    What a SWEET story...

    I love the kitchen. Painting and decorating soothe the soul!

    You are the bomb woman.

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  12. Now I see it! I can't believe that I missed that the first time around. It looks like he sooo enjoyed his birthday! I'm glad.

    Love,

    MOM

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