Just Like Riding a Bike...Right?

Although yesterday was Friday the 13th, a full moon AND the weather was crap, it was a great day. Our newest little addition to the family was coming home. He spent 17 days in the NICU. Was that all it really was? Hmmm, seemed longer. 

After Ryan was born, I found that I was constantly doubting myself and my abilities to once again care for someone so tiny. It's been 5 years!! I was constantly told, "it's like riding a bike, it all comes back to you". But would it really? I spent that 17 days only getting to feed him twice a day. I got told when to check his temperature and change his diaper. Reporting on the contents of his diaper and changing his shirt. I had to work around wires and when I held him, he was still connected to those wires. 

I thought I knew what to expect, after all I had done this before. Sleep him on his back, no loose bedding, toys or stuffed animals in the crib. Always leave them secure in the carseat while the car is in motion, duh. Swaddle with his arms out. Wait...now it's arms out? What else was I forgetting, what else had they changed. 

Once our discharge was complete, we were on our way. No more of some one else's rules, no more monitors and no more wires. PANIC! Those wires were my security, they let me know that he was okay. As the nurse peeled the leads off, well, let's just say, I was on the verge of tears. But again, it was just like riding a bike, right?

Ryan's First Car Ride

In the hospital, I rarely heard him cry. He was always sleeping so soundly. Alright, maybe this wasn't so bad. Then we came home and I was on my own. ON. MY. OWN. I thought I knew what I was doing, until I changed his first diaper in the middle of the night. I had to heat the bottle while he was crying, get the cloth ready to clean him, vaseline on the gauze, change his clothes. He was squirmy, so so squirmy and it was pretty dark. I tried to keep Ryan calm and quiet. I kept telling him that it was our first night and we would get it, we'd understand each other. Then we woke the whole house up. Brandon started calling for me, my husband woke up to console him. Cause I, of course, can't be in 2 places at once. Another thought that never crossed my mind, what happens when they both need me at the exact same time?

I woke up this morning exhausted. If I slept 2 hours combined, well, I'm giving myself a lot of credit. I kept looking into his bassinet making sure he was okay. I was cleaning spit-up from his mouth and clothes. I felt just a little defeated. 

Then we went through another feeding this morning and it was better. It was just like the hospital...calm, peaceful, controlled. Then another feeding, less crying going through the changing process. And I felt better in control. 

Would I agree that it is just like riding a bike? Probably not. Let's face it, the last time I hopped on this bike, the ride was missing passengers and the bike was much younger. But I do think things come back to you. You get comfortable again being a mom and having more people to care for. Would I trade it, nope, but I have learned the cliche phrase to NEVER tell my friends having baby #2. Cause the second time isn't anything like the first. 

Throwback Thursday - May 1, 2014

Me, Mom and Dad 

This picture was either from the Fall of 1980 or the Spring of 1981. 

My Mom and my Dad are 2 of the most amazing people that I know. They taught me many lessons throughout my life. At the time I don't think they knew that they were even teaching me. I also didn't fully understand these lessons until I became a parent myself. 

My parents were married very young, just 19 and 22 years old. And no, it wasn't because of me, LOL. Just 3 years later, I was born and 3 years after that, my brother. They were in their late 20's and early 30's when they packed us up and moved us an hour away from family to our very own home. Back then, for some reason, an hour away seemed like an eternity. They did this to provide my brother and I with the life they felt we deserved. A home of our own, a yard to play in, our own bedrooms, a good school. 

I've been told there were nights my parents went without so we could eat. They both worked hard to give us everything we needed and as much of what we wanted as they could. We were their world and every step and every breath they took was for us. 

Now that I am a parent myself, I understand them more than I ever thought I would. I understand the long hours they put in beyond their jobs and long after we had gone to bed. I never understood how they seemed to get everything done. Now I do. 

I understand now the desire to give your children the very best of everything and the frustration that comes with not always being able to deliver. 

I understand the worry they felt when we got sick or hurt. And I'm sure one day I will pace the floor worried when my babies haven't come home yet. I will understand that their worry was projected as anger and that's why they yelled. 

I understand why I was given the freedoms to choose my own path, even when they thought it was wrong and I am grateful for all the times I fell and they were there to pick me back up again. I'm also thankful to have them there to celebrate with me when things went right. 

And now that I am married and have my own children, I think they understand me better too. They are finally able to see what all their hard work has done and the adults that those little babies have turned out to be. 

I will never be able to fully express how grateful I am for my parents and everything they have done for me, everything they have taught me and everything that they sacrificed the last 34 years of my life. All I can hope is that I have made them proud and I have lived up to all the hopes and dreams they had for me from the very first time they laid eyes on me.