Sophia says...

Night time routine varies around here. Rick is usually the one telling Sophia bedtime stories and tucking her in. Last night, Sophia decided she wanted some mommy time after all that. So she creeps into the bedroom and asks me to come cuddle with her. Gladly. So she gets into her bed and I lay down beside her and start to brush her hair out of her face. She says, "Mommy, don't touch my hair, don't rub my back, don't put your arm around me. Don't breathe on me! Just lay there and be still." Ha, sounds a little bit like what I say when she crawls into our bed at 2am!

Ava is 9 months old

Ava is 9 months (6 months adjusted) old today. It's the three month incremental milestones that really get to me; so much changes from 3 months to 6 months and then to 9 months. In Ava's case, it's like we added another quarter to our year for a total of five 3 month increments. Are you following my logic here? While most others ask if she's "catching up" yet, I feel like she's just a normal 6 month old doing what a normal 6 month old should do.

Ava's new thing is rolling over from back to front, front to back...making her way over to an interesting item. This item is typically off limits to her, usually some small bead or choking hazard Sophia has left on the floor. Funny how Sophia is just at that age where all her interests are the tiniest of toys. The exact opposite of what I really want her to play with while Ava has discovered she can be mobile. Ava's seemingly got Rubber Man arms too. Her reach is unbelievable. She can knock her cereal out of her bowl or out of her spoon on the way to her mouth, when I swore it was out of harms way. Oh, she's eating lots of variety now! Prunes were the first on the list once rice cereal was established. I learned the hard way the other day that there is too much of a good thing with prunes. We had her first major blowout of epic proportions.

We have her 9 month wellness appointment at the end of the week, followed by her first development assessment at the hospital on August 1. I'm a bit nervous for this assessment, even though I feel like she's doing what she should be doing. This is the first of a number of studies she will go through to determine if there was any neurological damage due to her premature birth. The home nurse still does her monthly visits, and while she feels like Ava is doing well--and even exceeding expectations--something about taking her to the clinic makes my stomach feel jittery when thinking about it.

But today I celebrate. I celebrate the strong, solid, beautiful little girl Ava is today. And I also grieve. Julia is so heavily weighing on my heart, but each day seems to get a bit easier with gaining perspective.

The lost blankie

See that blankie Sophia is cuddling? That is her very favorite blankie. It's her "good" blankie, the one she turns to when she's fallen, having a meltdown, sad, told "no" about something, sleeps with for naps and night time. She will come into our room in the middle of the night if she wakes up and can't find her blankie, to have us find it for her so she can go back to sleep. It's been with her since she was born. We go nowhere without it. As of last Sunday, while at a friend's for dinner, she lost the blankie at their house. She was devastated. It was nowhere to be found. In a panic state, I tore through the house in search of it. I miss that blankie, too. We have a backup blankie but it just doesn't do the job. Now almost 1 week later, I have mixed feelings about its return if it ever does show up. We've made it past the hardest part of withdrawals. The first night, I slept with Sophia, who fell asleep sobbing for her blankie. The second night she told me she loves me, but she loves her blankie too. Each night has gotten better. If that blankie is found, do I dare reunite them?

Change of scenery

My eyes were hurting from my last blog design so I thought I'd simplify a little. I think it's a stage right now, because lots of simplification is going on in the kid's room.

NICU reunion

We had Ava's NICU reunion last week. The hospital hosts a party every year for the graduates of the NICU since it's inception. That's 20 some years of graduates, which amounted to about 450 people attending this year. Needless to say it was a little overwhelming for Ava and I, for different reasons--overstimulating for Ava, emotional for me. Sophia had a blast; it was a Curious George theme, and that girl loves Curious George. The Man in the Yellow Hat was actually a woman, which was pretty curious (and pretty confusing to Sophia who pays attention to detail).

I was already emotional going into this whole event. It was the first time we had been back to the hospital since Ava was sent home. I wasn't sure what to expect, and I really wasn't sure why we were going. Closure? To show Ava off to the nurses and doctors for a pat on the back of some sort, maybe validation? To tell the "Barbara Walters" of the NICU Social Worker that I did in fact break down after all and I wasn't the cold hearted bitch that she thought I was? Maybe all of the above. What I realized is that while everyone was joyful and hugging and talking about how well their kids were, I was fighting back tears, feeling completely disconnected, with this really silly smile on my face to try to make it seem like I was alright. And maybe this exact behavior is how I got myself into the emotional mess I was feeling then and there.

I talked to a couple that were in the NICU with their twins while Ava was in there. The mother said she was also a little emotional that morning, so happy that they were at a great place after the scary NICU experience. I couldn't take my eyes of the twins. And this is probably why I felt disconnected. There were a ton of twins in the NICU during our stay. I had a lot of resentment for that. And really, I have so many mixed emotions about the entire stay in the NICU that I just can't go there. So basically just scratching the surface here, I wonder how my experience would have been different had I allowed myself to FEEL during that time. I did go up to the social worker and tell her that I had a bit of an emotional breakdown a few months ago and I'm forever changed. And she was the one who made the "glad you aren't a cold hearted bitch" statement which wasn't exactly an appropriate response in my opinion.

The reality of it all is that I can't go back to that time and ask for a do-over. Would I really want to anyway? And for who would I be doing this? And who is to say that my handling of things wasn't right at the time? Wasn't it right for me, for Sophia, for Ava, for Rick and my family as a whole? Who would it have benefited breaking down and falling apart? Possibly the social worker, but why do I care so much about other people and what they think? My only conclusion and takeaway from this is that usually a family is dealing with the reality of a sick baby in the NICU. I was dealing with a sick baby and the death of a baby.


I'm not trying to say that my pain was greater or that I should have any more right than these other families, it's just that I can't truly relate to these families that were there. So my experience really was sort of a lonely one. The one woman I was hoping would be there wasn't. She had a similar experience of losing her twin while the other was forced into the world. I think about how she is doing, but I don't know if I would have actively pursued a friendship out of our bond. It seems too painful now. I was just disappointed that she wasn't there to ask if she's feeling similar things. Maybe it's for the best. So next year? One of the nurses told me that most people come the first year and then drop off until their kids are old enough to want to participate. And I think that will probably be us, if Ava shows interest down the road.

Salmon

We've been eating a lot of salmon over here. It's fairly versatile, available fresh at Costco, and healthy. Rick likes it broiled with a honey mustard glaze or soy ginger glaze. I'm not a creature of cooking habit, rarely making the same thing twice. So I decided to mix it up a bit a few weeks ago. I made a potato hash with caramelized onions. On top of this I set a seared salmon fillet. On top of this sauteed spinach, finished with a white wine yogurt Dijon sauce. I literally licked the plate. Not sure if it was because a) just needed a change of pace, or b) I was starving that day, or c) it was really that good. I'm going with c) it was really that good, for this post. I was actually so confident that it was going to be good, I took a picture of it. Now here's the kicker--I didn't write down any of the steps or ingredients. This usually means that it won't turn out as good next time. Bummer. But I will try to re-create my masterpiece moment again, and I promise to write it down and post it for anyone who might enjoy the combo. I know I peeled the potatoes before cutting into small pieces and then crisping it up in olive oil. I know I used Old Bay seasoning for the salmon fillet. I know I deglazed the pan I seared the salmon in with some white wine, and then added some Dijon to thicken, followed by the last minute idea to make it creamier by adding plain Greek yogurt. That's as much as you get right now. To be continued.

The little Firecrackers

Some highlights of our 4th of July. We took Sophia to the Marin County fair. Ava came along for the ride. Poor girl was sweltering in her stroller, despite all efforts to keep her cool. Rick took Sophia on her first roller coaster, and not only was she not scared, she threw her arms up in the air while going down the hill.

My baby CAN read

Those infomercials crack me up about how your baby can read. First of all, why would I want my 6 month old to read? I have little control as it is; can you imagine how much more difficult life would be if they could read that young? No thanks, not for me. I'd like to keep my kids in the dark as long as possible. I have a feeling that won't last as long as I hope. Sophia can memorize really well. See for yourself.