mia | four months

She's sleeping on my chest as I type this on my phone. I'm hoping her milky smell and baby breaths will inspire me to write words that are as amazing as she is. I've been having trouble with words lately, they just aren't there, but since I don't have a baby book for her, I owe this to her.

She rolled over last week, tummy to back. Just once, and there hasn't been a repeat, but she smiled so big when she did it. She smiles big all the time. So big that her cheeks push her eyes shut and all you see are toothless gums. She wakes each morning, and from most naps, just full of smiles. Her laugh is soft and sweet, and she's a big talker. Happy or sad, she'll "tell" you all about it.

She clearly isn't a newborn anymore, officially looking like a baby, and quickly on her way to sitting up. I forgot how quickly they outgrow that sleepy newborn stage. She watches big sister play all the time and I imagine she is thinking, "Wow, I wish I could do that." Soon, baby girl, soon you will.

And those blue eyes. I am so in love with them. I see so much love in them when she looks at me. A baby's love is honest and simple and forgiving. I'm sure, at times, I am not deserving of her devotion.

She really is an amazing little thing. Those who meet her, who don't know about her birth, have no idea she has ever been anything but a healthy, perfect little girl. Except for a few faint scars, there is nothing to indicate otherwise. I hope it doesn't sound like I'm needlessly dwelling on the past by repeatedly bringing up her birth defect, but when I let my mind wander back to the first few weeks of her life, my heart still stings a little. I can talk about medical details with anyone interested and willing to listen without batting an eye, but the emotional side of our experience is a different story. I save that part for when I'm alone. That's how I know my dwelling isn't "needless." I haven't gone back to read any of those August posts yet because it still hurts, yes, even with a healthy baby peacefully in my arms.

On the upside, as each month passes, my fears of her becoming sick again fade a little more. I have no problems looking forward to the milestones she will be reaching, to her first birthday, to her going to school someday, and to growing up. She is a special little baby and I can't help but think that this whole experience happened to make us better people, to make better parents of Ryan and myself, and to help us make a difference in this world, even if that difference is very small.

You are very special baby girl. I will make sure you know that and you never forget it.
Happy four month birthday, sweet Mia.
Love, Your Mama

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In the US alone, 1600 babies are born with congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH) each year. Only 50% of these babies survive. We are blessed to be of the surviving half, but because my baby lived, I know there is another family whose baby is gone. Very little is known about this defect. It is as common as spina bifida and cystic fibrosis, yet its cause is unknown. It isn't uncommon to go undiagnosed, as it was in Mia's case. In fact, only 75% of babies are diagnosed in utero. If we had known of Mia's birth defect beforehand, she would have been born at UC Davis where the medical attention she needed would have been immediately available. It is because of these saddening facts that CHERUBS, the official charitable organization for CDH, is circulating a petition to increase federal funding of CDH research.

If you have a few minutes, please sign this petition. More detailed information about what this petition is asking for is available at the link below. I know that in comparison to other things, like cancer, that CDH affects relatively few families and it may not seem so important. But to those 1600 families a year whose babies are born with this terrible defect, families like ours, the infrequency of its occurrence does not diminish its importance.

To sign the petition, click here.

I thank you, Mia thanks you, cherubs everywhere thank you,

because babies shouldn't have to fight so hard just to breathe.

thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is over and was wonderfully loud, loving, and filling. I have so much to be grateful for this year, not the least of which is a healthy baby, make that two healthy babies. I'll refrain from writing a long list of the things I'm thankful for. Instead, I'll just say that I have much more to be grateful for than I have to complain about or be sad over, and isn't that all that anyone really needs?

My mom outdid herself once again, and while Thursday's dinner was absolutely perfect, my mouth is still watering over the amazing sandwich of leftovers I consumed on Friday:  reheated layers of stuffing, turkey, and gravy, a little cranberry sauce smeared in a super soft French roll...mmmmmmmmmm.

  

My goal of a big family picture was an epic failure. My camera and I were not meshing, so I opted for just enjoying the company of my family and taking mental pictures of the fun.  I will remember beautiful food, laughing faces, toys e v e r y w h e r e, and blazing fires.

As I am currently surrounded by two snoozing babies and one napping adult, I think it is safe to say we are all completely worn out. Thanksgiving has somehow morphed itself into a five day extravaganza, which is pretty special in my opinion. One night of togetherness just isn't enough for us. I'm ready for a little bit of quiet, but I wouldn't want our holiday to go any other way. And I'm already looking forward to next year when we will inaugurate our new kitchen with a house full of family, noise, and food.

early morning blogging

It is 5:45 am. Mia and I have been up for an hour. I haven't blogged this early in a long time...or ever. I can't remember if I've ever blogged in the wee morning hours. It isn't likely. Few things will pull me out of bed so early and actually keep me up.

Poop. This morning, poop made me stay up. Specifically, poop that did not stay in its intended diaper, but instead almost missed the diaper completely and shot right up the baby's back. Why this must happen is beyond me. Interestingly enough, I was up late last night because of poop, too - from the other kiddo and it was a completely different situation. But since it isn't even six yet, and I haven't eaten anything, I think I'll stop talking about poop now. Although, really, it does play such a large role in my life these days.

It's a big week. Thanksgiving is only days away and out of town family will be headed this way tonight. Tomorrow is pie baking day. I will take pictures while my mom dirties, then cleans, then dirties her kitchen again as she preps everything for Thursday's dinner. It will be a fantastic holiday as always because I have the best family. Really, I do.

My goal, aside from eating too much food and talking too loudly (which are both easy to achieve), is to get a family picture. Because last year, it didn't happen. I'm not talking just a little family picture of Ryan, the girls, and I. No, a big picture with the whole family. Got that, family? If you're reading this, be prepared. Because if there isn't a picture, then how can we prove it ever really happened?

~ christmas 2010 ~

Check out what I found. A family picture from Christmas last year. I didn't think we took one. Turns out, the best place to look for pictures of yourself is on other people's computers. Sounds logical enough, but sometimes I forget the obvious.  (All pictures from my mama, The Girasole Lady, who happens to have a blog also...you should go visit her...she is special).

~ january 2011 ~

I found some other gems from the year, too, which I'm sharing now because I haven't even picked up my camera this week. As the year nears an end, I think it's natural to reflect back on the past eleven (soon to be twelve) months, and oh my goodness, a lot has happened. I can't believe how much Laci has grown in the last year, and all the other things that have happened this year...well, it makes 2011 feel like the longest year ever. Longer than summer vacation when you're nine. That's pretty long.

~ may 2011 - Kristina's bachelorette champagne brunch ~

~ june 2011 - my girls and I ~

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And now, it is 8:30, and I'm just getting around to finishing this post, because that is what kids do for you...they interrupt you they make you feel needed.  At least that's the way I'm looking at it this morning through my glass-is-half-full, rose-colored, coffee-fueled goggles.

~ august 2011 - mia's homecoming and sisters first meeting ~

flashback | my sister's wedding

All photos courtesy of Avalon Photography

Six months ago today, my sister, Kristina, married her love, Myles. It was a gorgeous event. She was gorgeous, the flowers were gorgeous, the weather, location, ceremony, cake, and reception were all gorgeous. I'm not exaggerating, just check out the pictures.  Despite a sick, and therefore very uncooperative flower girl, it was a perfect day.

When I first heard of their engagement, I was not just thrilled for my sister's happiness, I was also excited about being part of her special day and helping her along the sometimes bumpy road of wedding planning. I so enjoyed being present when she found her perfect dress, picked the perfect flowers, and addressed each invitation.

As matron of honor, I was to give a toast at the reception. I was honored, and did my best, but am certain I fell short of my potential.

Procrastination and I are great friends, we gather together often. So, although I had planned to pre-write my speech, I kept putting it off until a few days before the wedding. I wanted to write a speech that celebrated the newly married couple, but more than that, I wanted a speech that showed everyone what a special person Kristina is and how much I love her and love that she is my sister. I had a great start to the speech, but kept getting stuck in the middle and then would get interrupted before I could work through the clutter in my brain. No matter how many times I tried, I could not get past that hurdle.

The night before the wedding, Laci woke with a blazing fever. Between caring for a sick baby, helping Kristina get ready, and getting ready myself, the speech was permanently shifted to the back recesses of my brain. I pep talked myself into believing I could just wing the end of the speech. I have given countless presentations before, some ad-libbed, and this would all be fine, I assured myself.

That is, until the microphone was placed on the table in front of me. I plastered a smile on my face. I panicked on the inside. The champagne was poured and I would be giving the first toast. I took a deep breath and stood up, hoping that by some miracle the end of my speech would just form on my lips. It didn't.

I successfully introduced myself, but stumbled through my first sentence and struggled to compose myself. I think I managed to pull it all together in the end, despite my nerves, I remember a chuckled from the audience when I made a little joke, and I remembered to raise my glass to make it an official toast. And though I doubt anyone can remember the actual words I said, I know I could have done better for my sister.

So, with that probably too long backstory, I would like to share the toast I should have given six months ago, the toast Kristina deserves to hear, and, hopefully, the toast she will remember.

I was only seventeen months old when Kristina was born, so I do not remember what life was like before having a sister. I cannot imagine what life would be like without her in it. I have memories of games we've played together, fights we've had, experiences we've shared, and all of them made better because we shared them together. As cliche as it may sound, she is truly one of my best friends. She is always helpful when I need her and she is always ready to party when it's time to party.

A lifetime of experiences together will allow you to really know a person. I know that Kristina is a hard worker, loves horses and dogs, prefers to drive backroads instead of the freeway, and would prefer a leftover steak for breakfast instead of waffles. I know that Kristina is a strong woman with a tough exterior, but that a passionate heart exists within. She might hate to admit it, but she is a sensitive soul. At times, she has a quick temper, but she is even quicker to forgive. And with that fiery temper comes a fiery heart, a heart that is genuine and strong. When Kristina loves something, she loves deeply and truly, with her entire heart. I cannot think of a greater quality to bring to a marriage.

I am sure that by now, Myles, you have come to know and appreciate this quality in Kristina, and you know how lucky you are to be granted the gift of her heart. I am so happy for the two of you to be able to express your love to each other through today's ceremony. I wish the very best for both of you as you begin your life together and throughout the years to come. And at those times when things aren't so great, remember this day and the feelings of love that have been so clearly expressed. When all else fails, just love each other. I raise my glass in toast, to the bride and groom and to your future together. Love you both.

saturday morning thoughts

It has recently come to my attention that I might be losing my mind. Not in a loony bin straight jacket kind of way, but definitely in a lose your sunglasses on the top of your head or can't find the phone I'm holding in my hand kind of way.

I made coffee this morning. Just like always. Filled the coffee maker with water, put in the filter, scooped in some coffee grounds, closed it up, pushed the brew button. I walked away. A few minutes later...coffee is everywhere, but not in the coffee pot. Because I didn't put the pot back to catch the coffee. I salvaged a cupful. I am making another pot right now. I have confirmed the coffee pot is properly positioned beneath the dispenser. I am thinking I need an extra cup this morning.

It has also come to my attention that I am clearly no longer a passenger on the fashion train, that is, if I was ever a passenger to begin with. I'll admit that I've never been a very trendy or fashionable girl, jeans and a shirt seem to work fine in most situations I find myself in. Add a pair of heels and I'm set for a night out. But lately...well, I'm not really sure what has happened. I have reduced my "fashion" choices to what is comfortable and what is clean. I have sacrificed color matching, figure flattering, and pretty, for colors that hide spit up and whatever is on top of the laundry pile because it will save me from having to put my clothes away. And also, a brown pair of shoes that I wear with everything even though, clearly, they do not actually go with everything. The saddest part of this realization is that I'm pretty sure I fell off the fashion train years ago and I'm only just now noticing because it has taken another turn and is now running me over. Again, this is only if I was ever on the train to begin with, and by looking at my high school pictures, it might be safe to say that I was never a passenger in the first place. Then again, "fashion" in the nineties wasn't kind to anyone.

My two sweet girls are undoubtedly the cause of my demise. I don't think they do it intentionally, but I definitely remembered how to make coffee before they kept me up for several nights in a row. They have recently worked out a system where one wakes up just as I'm getting the other one to sleep. My only saving grace is that the heater in our trailer is really loud and creates the perfect white noise to put Mia back to sleep. I am positive the heater is the sole reason she usually sleeps so well, and it might be the only thing I will miss about living in the trailer. Well, that, and the fact that I don't have much housekeeping to do.

But these girls, I tell you, they are so entertaining. All you ever hear is "terrible two's," but Laci is just so much fun to watch. Sure she has her meltdowns, doesn't like to be told "no," and can think of every excuse in the book to not go to bed, but to see her change so much everyday is pretty awesome. She can count to ten, knows her colors, and she picks up new words all the time, reminding me that I really have to watch what I say. She plays pretend and loves to dance, although her "moves" are random and uncoordinated. She must get that from her dad.

And Mia just loves to watch her big sister. I am sure she will be heartbroken someday when big sister won't let her play, but that is just part of the sister dynamics. She hasn't been herself the past couple of days - lots of drooling, nursing constantly, not sleeping her usual eight hours - but she's still smiley and happy as long as I'm holding her. I'm sure it will pass, whatever it is.

Most of the time I still hear "Mia down" or "Daddy hold Mia" from my big girl, but I get glimpses now and of what it will be like when they can play together. Good thing Mia was securely strapped in for swing time.

So, I suppose it doesn't really matter that I'm dressed like a hobo, and not in a chic kind of way, or that I can't remember...well...anything. Because who really has time for things like hair and clothes when there is important coloring to do, and 15 diapers a day, and nights of crying baby tag teams? Maybe I'll be fashionable when I'm sixty. I'll be the cool, classy grandma and my grandchildren will call me G-ma or Grand-mummy and we'll drink tea with fancy clothes. And now, I think I've proven the point that I'm losing it, so I'll just stop now.

Enjoy your weekend!