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My Baby, My Genes

Featuredby motheringmillieLeave a Comment on My Baby, My Genes
My Baby, My Genes

I’ve found that given time, life does not disappoint in writing material.

I hate this post. I hate writing this post.

Wells was born with an interesting hairline on the back of his head. At twelve months, we took him to get his first haircut and the hairdresser said, “He won’t grow hair there.”

At 18 months old, Wells lost his eyebrows. How does one lose their eyebrows? We chalked it up to KP (Keratosis Pilaris) a skin condition that Wells has and I also have, which can block hair follicles.

Wells wasn’t saying words like the pediatrician’s developmental survey suggested. We brought this up to the doctor and she said, let’s give it six months and see what happens.

Wells’ speech did not improve. He was frustrated when trying to communicate and I contacted a state funded program and got him into speech therapy. Problem solved, right?

We saw the pediatrician six more times within a two month period because of Wells’ eyes. He lost all of his eyelashes. He had a “gunk” that no drops or ointment was alleviating. We were worried about his vision.

The pediatrician told me that she was suspicious that Wells’ medical issues could be linked to a genetic disorder or an auto-immune disease. What? Chris and I didn’t have any genetic markers. We don’t have any auto-immune diseases in our family. I was scared and defensive. She explained that he had many issues; his hair, his skin, his eyes, his developmental delay. Every issue could be a stand-alone problem or it could be tied to something more. She promised she would look into it but in the meantime, she recommended an ophthalmologist to take a look at his eyes.

The ophthalmologist was quick to tell us that Wells’ tear ducts must be blocked in his nasal passageway. His tears were backing up and creating excess mucus in his eyes. She could do a surgical procedure to put in temporary tubes to help his tears drain correctly. We asked her if this issue was linked to any other disorder that she knew of and she said, “Not at all. It’ll be fixed in six months time.” We mentioned Wells’ severe eye sensitivity which she thought was being caused by his many eye treatments. She referred us to an ENT before we scheduled the procedure because of his constant nasal drip.

The ENT saw inflamed nasal passageways. He was confident that Wells’ adenoids needed to be removed. As a last ditch effort to stop the drainage, the ENT prescribed Wells a ten day, antibiotic steroid however, when that didn’t work, we scheduled the adenoidectomy. The ENT also referred Wells to an audiologist after I informed him of Wells’ speech delay. Wells passed the hearing test.

Wells did not want to wear the hospital gown for surgery. The best advice I was given was from my best friend, Lindsey who told me to ask for anxiety medicine for Wells before he went into surgery. Once that was in his system, he was loopy and fine with going back to the surgical room. (I was a crying mess.)

The ENT was able to perform the adenoidectomy while Wells was under the anesthesia from his eye tube surgery. The doctor relayed to us that Wells’ adenoids were enlarged and had pockets of puss; we were glad they were removed. The eye doctor informed us that the eye tubes were inserted perfectly and she was able to fully examine his eyes. She explained to us that Wells had blocked oil glands on his eye lids and because of this, his eyes were not making the correct balance of moisture (water, oil, and mucus). She prescribed a steroidal ointment to try to get the inflammation down on his eyelids so that the oil glands could open.

It was difficult for Wells when he came off the anesthesia. He ripped his IV out and blood got everywhere. He cried for a long time. Once he started drinking, the nurses said we could take him home. I got him a whale balloon from the gift shop that came off it’s string in the parking garage. Chris got on top of the Jeep to rescue it. Wells was happy to eat as much non-dairy ice-cream as he wanted. He had a lot of dried blood on his face the next morning and his breath smelled terrible for a week because of the scabbing.

Six weeks later we went back to the ophthalmologist for a follow up appointment. The ophthalmologist was not thrilled with the results and either were we. Wells’ eyes were still over producing mucus and tears. His eyes were still incredibly sensitive to light. We made an appointment to remove the eye tubes and she referred us to a cornea specialist for further examination.

Our ENT visit was much of the same – disappointing. He still saw significant inflammation in Wells’ nasal passages. He recommended that we see an allergist to rule out environmental allergies for the cause of his inflammation and continued nasal drip.

Our next appointment was with the dermatologist, an appointment that was scheduled six months prior. (Hindsight 20/20 I wish this would’ve been the first appointment we went to.) We spoke to the doctor about Wells’ hair loss. We were very concerned with the condition of his skin. We told her about his recent ENT and eye appointments, as well as his speech delay. The dermatologist was hesitant to say anything definitively but she believed it to be Alopecia Areata, an autoimmune disease that targets inflammation of the hair follicles. She went to get another dermatologist for a second opinion and I cried thinking about the struggles Wells would have to endure.

The next dermatologist was not sold on an Alopecia Areata diagnosis because it would be unusual for the hair loss to start with the eyebrows and eyelashes. She asked us more questions about Wells and his different medical issues when she noticed Wells squinting while looking at my phone screen. She asked, “One final question, does Wells have light sensitivity?” Wells has had severe light sensitivity his entire life. When he is in the sun he must wear a hat and sunglasses or his eyes will roll to the back of his head. His eyes water uncontrollably in bright light. The night before our appointment, Wells complained to us that the TV was too bright. When we told her this information she said, “I have only seen this once, a long time ago during residency, but I think Wells might have a genetic disorder called IFAP.”

The dermatologist was positive that Wells’ issues were being caused by an autoimmune disease or a genetic disorder but she couldn’t be sure which without a blood test. Genetic testing is incredibly expensive so she put in an order through our insurance which took a couple of weeks to get approved. In the meantime, she wanted us to use topical cream for Alopecia just in case that would’ve worked, we would know that the inflammation was caused by the autoimmune disease and we wouldn’t have needed to go through the genetic testing. Not only were these topical meds expensive, I didn’t want to put Wells on any steroids that weren’t absolutely going to solve his problem. Once the order for the blood draw cleared through the insurance, the dermatologist put in an order for the lab to draw blood and check his DNA for two specific compromised genes associated with IFAP syndrome.

Wells’ blood was sent out to a lab in California. The test concluded that his LRP1 gene and MBTPS2 gene were compromised. We were contacted by the dermatologist almost immediately after receiving these results and she confirmed that Wells has the genetic condition, IFAP. IFAP stands for Ichthyosis Follicularis, Alopecia, and Photophobia. IF – his skin, A – his hair loss, and P – his eye sensitivity. This syndrome is a rare X-linked genetic disorder reported in only 40 patients, ever. Don’t Google pictures. My poor baby.

Known to occur in people with IFAP syndrome is corneal abnormalities including a defective tear film and recurrent atopic keratoconjunctival inflammations (exactly what was happening with Wells’ eyes). Did we need to do the tear duct surgery? No. That was never going to fix Wells’ eye issues however, at the time, we were unaware of this genetic disorder. We have since informed the ophthalmologist, who had never heard of IFAP syndrome, of Wells’ diagnosis and she is now researching other cases to better help Wells.

The steroidal cream that Wells was prescribed after his ocular surgery was too strong to be used long term; it could cause too much pressure in the eyes which could lead to glaucoma. We now have to administer an eye drop four times a day and it is not fun, Wells fights us every time. We found out that the drops burn and blur his vision (I contacted the cornea specialist about how it was a terrible experience every time we’d administer his eye drops and she informed us that they are not pleasant but entirely necessary.) It’s been incredibly difficult. He is scheduled to get the eye tubes removed next month as well as a more thorough eye exam by the cornea specialist, all while under anesthesia.

It was time to see the allergist. The ENT wanted to rule out food and environmental allergies for the cause of his nasal drip and inflammation. We explained to the allergist that Wells had been recently diagnosed with IFAP syndrome and that eye and nasal lacrimation are common symptoms of this rare disorder. The doctor called for a full allergy panel, which was administered into Wells’ back. He sat on my lap, facing me, while the nurse pressed the spokes into his skin. He cried and it upset Millie, who came to this appointment. The nurse came back with popsicles for both of them and they were instantly calmed. After ten minutes, the test was complete and Wells showed no signs of allergies. The allergist concluded that any drainage Wells was experiencing was not food or environment related. We were able to rule out allergies and add these drippy symptoms to the list of IFAP complications in Wells’ case.

To better understand IFAP syndrome and what it means for Wells and our family, we saw a geneticist and a genetic counselor. The geneticist was extremely transparent about how fortunate we were to have a doctor (his dermatologist) recognize this syndrome and to “cherry-pick” which chromosomes to test in Wells’ DNA. He told us that there are only 9 recorded cases to have the same mutation as Wells. This syndrome goes undiagnosed because people with these issues do not connect their problems to one diagnosis, and even if they do, they do not know where to begin (the expense of funding a wild-goose-chase of genetic lab work is astronomical). The geneticist believed IFAP to be congenital, meaning the severity of which Wells was born with, will be what he has; for example, he won’t develop mental retardation (a symptom some experience with IFAP). We will see the geneticist yearly to update him on Wells’ developments to hopefully help others learn about this syndrome. He also gave us his card if our new baby is a boy. This way, he can order genetic labs right away.

It was the genetic counselor who explained to us how Wells acquired IFAP syndrome. Males have an X and a Y chromosome, I gave Wells one of my X chromosomes and Chris gave Wells his Y (I couldn’t give Wells a Y chromosome because I don’t have one, I have two X chromosomes because I’m a female). One of my X chromosomes is normal and the other X chromosome is compromised. Because I have one good X, my symptoms of IFAP are lessened therefore, I’m a carrier of the syndrome. Unfortunately, the X that I passed onto Wells was my compromised X chromosome. He doesn’t have another X to combat the compromised X, so his symptoms of IFAP are full force. My father has all of Wells’ same symptoms. His mother, my paternal grandmother, is a carrier. Her father had these same symptoms. The genetic counselor said this is a males syndrome; they give it to their daughters who become carriers, and those daughters give the syndrome to their sons.

Millie could be a carrier for IFAP syndrome. I could have given her my compromised X but so far, she doesn’t have any IFAP symptoms. She can chose to be genetically tested before she decides to reproduce. If she is a carrier and has a boy, he would have a 50% chance of having IFAP syndrome.

When baby number three is born (we do not know gender) and if the baby is a boy, blood will be drawn while we are in the hospital to be sent to the lab to test for IFAP. At this point, I am hoping that this new baby is a girl OR a boy with my non-compromised X chromosome.

Severe cases of IFAP have noted kidney abnormalities. To make sure Wells’ kidneys developed correctly we took him to get an ultrasound. He was such a brave boy when he was laying on the table. I put my head next to his and we sang Mickey songs together. The tech ran the ultrasound on his belly and his back. She complimented Wells on how well he did and me on my singing. We received the results within the next hour. Wells’ kidneys were sonographically normal and in the normal range for renal dimension. This was a great relief.

In some cases of IFAP, mental retardation is present. With Wells’ CAS (childhood apraxia of speech) diagnosis, we were referred to a neurologist to make sure Wells’ brain was appropriately developed. When we arrived, the nurse gave Wells a sheet of emoji stickers that he stuck to the patient table in a circle and pretended to play duck-duck-goose with them – it was adorable. The neurologist was unfamiliar with IFAP and wanted to test Wells to get a baseline of his development. She asked him questions like, “touch the door, after touching the floor”. She had him stand on one leg. She asked him to point to certain colors, what his best friend’s name was (he said Mia), and to sing his favorite song (the PJ Mask theme song). She was aware of his apraxia and noted that she observed this in his speech however, everything else she tested him on was either developmentally appropriate or advanced for his age. We were thrilled.

The neurologist explained to us that 28-30% of children with IFAP develop seizures. She told us what to look out for if Wells starts to seize and that sometimes seizures don’t look like they do in the movies; he could stare off and not come out of it, one limb could rhythmically move, etc. We have a plan moving forward if he develops this part of the syndrome and until then, Wells does not need to see neurology on a regular basis.

Most recently, we went back to the ENT for the final follow up for Wells’ adenoidectomy. Unfortunately, Wells continues to have a nasal drip. After being tested by the allergist at the ENT’s request, we found that Wells has no allergies alas, his nasal drip is not caused by allergies. The doctor checked to make sure Wells hadn’t put anything up his nose (he did not). He checked his ears and throat (both of which looked great). It was determined that Wells’ drainage is IFAP related but to what extent, the ENT wasn’t sure. While he discusses the possibilities of why this is happening with the geneticist, he put Wells on a steroidal nasal spray to reduce his inflammation. The ENT believes this will be a chronic issue for Wells.

Through the Ohio Department of Health we are in the process of applying for CMH which stands for Children with Medical Handicaps. This health care program will help to offset the costs of Wells’ medical needs.

This diagnosis is beyond scary. All I want to do is help my baby and take this away for him. Unbeknownst to me, I was the one to give this to him. There is a perpetual feeling of guilt that I have to suppress as I need to focus on what Wells’ going through and his needs. I will forever be his advocate as we navigate this syndrome, together.

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Wells’ Speech Part 2

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Wells’ Speech Part 2

Wells’ speech therapist’s contract was not being renewed by the Help Me Grow organization that Wells receives services. We were devastated to hear this because Wells had gotten comfortable with her. At our last session, she gave me a packet of information about a motor speech disability called, Apraxia. After working with Wells for six months, it was her professional opinion that I look into this with his next speech therapist. Huh? – I thought he was just a little behind…

Before meeting with his new therapist, I Googled Childhood Apraxia of Speech. I learned that it’s an uncommon disorder where Wells would have difficulty making accurate motor movements when speaking. In CAS, the brain struggles to develop plans for speech movement. With this disorder, the speech muscles aren’t weak, they just don’t perform normally because the brain has difficulty directing the movements. CAS is treated with speech therapy and the Help Me Grow program set Wells up with a speech therapist who has advanced training and expertise in Apraxia.

Jody, his new speech therapist, met with us to give Wells an evaluation. She heard the dropping of consonants, the inconsistency of speech patterns, and saw his frustration when we couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. She was quick to inform us that while CAS couldn’t be diagnosed until age four, Wells most certainly has a motor speech delay – something he won’t just grow out of. Therapy is the only treatment for CAS and we go two/three times a week.

When we repeat words how Wells pronounces them, back to him for example, “ickey” for Mickey, he tells us we’re saying it wrong. He knows how words are supposed to sound, he just can’t make his mouth do it. It’s heartbreaking to see him struggle. To speak correctly, Wells’ brain has to learn how to make plans that tell his speech muscles how to move his lips, jaw and tongue in ways that result in accurate sounds with normal speed and rhythm. He can make the “m” sound however, he cannot connect it so it sounds like “mmm” space “icky”.

In six months, Wells has mastered isolated consonant sounds “h”, “m”, “s”, “p”, “b”, “f”, “w”, and “sh” at the beginning of words. We are practicing those sounds with syllable combinations ie. “fa” and “moo”. Kinesthetic movements help Wells remember how to correctly manipulate his mouth. Right now, we are working on the word, “open”. He does not naturally put the “p” sound in the middle of the word. We practice by making a big, “o” with our arms and then move our hand under our chin like we’re blowing a kiss. When the words are broken down, Wells has more success.

Wells will no longer receive paid services through the Help Me Grow organization when he turns three. At three years old, children can receive disability services through their public school system (pre-k). We have decided to not enroll Wells in the pre-k program through our district. The school only offers a half-day service, four days out of the week and that does not work with our work schedules. To make sure Wells is supported with his speech needs, we will continue to see Jody and charge our health insurance for the visits.

Speech therapy at two years old : Wells often falls asleep in the car before we get to speech therapy. He runs down the hallway like Sonic, and counts the stairs when we leave. When he wears snow or rain boots, they often get in his way during floor activities so they usually get thrown off. Wells will randomly get into a yoga pose. If an animal is brought up, like a frog or bunny, he’ll act it out. It’s fun and I’m always proud of him.

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Weekend Getaway

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Weekend Getaway

Chris had a week off of work before he started his new job at Boeing and to spend some quality, family time together, I planned us a two-day mini getaway. Through Groupon, I booked a night at Great Wolf Lodge for $119 (I was amazed at what was included for that price. That’s how much a regular hotel room would cost and this one had an indoor water park!). I packed up the food, buckled the kids into the Jeep, and when I checked our reservation to GPS the address to the hotel, I realized I booked the wrong one. (Insert face palm here.)

We were supposed to be headed south for one hour however, I booked our reservation at the Great Wolf Lodge two hours north of us! I quickly called Great Wolf’s customer service and they were extremely accommodating. Within ten minutes we had everything figured out; I cancelled my incorrect reservation and made a new reservation at the correct lodge. Thankfully, this resort had rooms available and because of COVID, they were not charging cancelation fees.

Walking into the lobby at Great Wolf was like entering a log cabin mansion. There were carved tree statues and signs, taxidermied animals, log stumps for chairs, etc. Ropes led the way to check-in and because it was a weekday after 4pm, I walked right up to the counter. We were given wristbands that doubled as our our room keys and a schedule of all the children’s activities at the lodge. I met Chris back in the parking lot and we lugged the kids and our overnight bags up to our room. The room was decorated like a hunting lodge; antlers as light fixtures and moose prints on the carpet. The room itself was incredibly spacious. It had a sitting area, a table and chairs, a mini fridge, and a microwave. The kids were so excited to be someplace new. Millie picked out her bed, our room had two queens, and we got our bathing suits on for a night in the water park!

It was 6pm when we walked the kids down the hall in their hooded towels, looking like baby Jedi, to go to the water park. The children we passed were melting down, “I don’t want to leave the pool!” Chris and I nodded at the parents for emotional support. Every family there looked like us; frazzled, tending to children’s needs, and over weight (No judgement – I felt comfortable letting my stretch marks show!). We felt like we found our people. Many families were leaving the water park when we were just arriving. We were grateful to be getting there at a less populated time.

As we walked into to the water park, we were confronted with humidity and the smell of chlorine, both of which we welcomed compared to the frigid, weather outside. The sound of rushing water and children shouting made it hard to hear Wells saying, “wow” as he was taking in his surroundings; I could read his lips and paired with the astonished facial expression, it felt like a mom win. We started in water that was knee deep and it was the perfect temperature. Millie saw the slides and fearlessly slid down them with Wells and Me at the bottom to catch her from going under. Reluctantly, Wells went down the slide but after he realized it was fun, we couldn’t tear him away.

It was nice to be able to let the kids play in water without coating them in sunscreen. Wells loved the water squirting out from the fountains in the floor. He would put his foot overtop of the holes and blast himself and others with the water pressure. Millie didn’t want to go down any of the big slides and we didn’t push her to. Both kids liked the warmth of the “hot springs” which we called, the hot tub for babies. Wells laughed each time he felt the warm water (Maw said that meant he was probably peeing). Hindsight, I have read some disgusting facts about hot tubs and there were way too many strangers sharing that water.

I was so anxious watching Millie and Wells play on the water structures. The bigger kids, water buckets spilling over, slippery stair steps – it was enough to give me a heart attack but both kids loved the adventure and independence. There were basketball hoops and balls and we enjoyed passing the basketball through the water to each other. Millie and Wells were not fond of the waves in the wave pool but that didn’t surprise me because both my kids have a tendency to get motion sick, like me. I remember feeling motion sick as a child treading water in the wave pool at Wyandotte Lake, I’m aging myself; it’s Zoombeezi Bay now.

After two hours of playing, their lips were turning a light purple hue and their toes and fingers were shriveled. We went back to the room, changed into dry clothes, and went down the the arcade to play some games. Chris loaded money onto an arcade card and the kids went wild. Millie and Wells got to play a game together where they sat in a firetruck and used squirt guns as hoses to put out fires. They also got to ride on little motorcycles and race. The tickets they compiled were enough to get some smarties, a package of car stickers, and a mermaid pen (it was the last mermaid pen in the bunch and Millie was very excited about it).

As we walked upstairs to head back to our room, we heard music coming from the lobby. We stopped in and joined a nighttime dance party! It was so funny, Wells walked straight into a group of kids and started dancing without a care. When the dancing was over, Wells decided he was going to get on the stage. I chased him down and in the meantime, some boys with bubble wands were putting their bubbles over Mills head. She was showing some annoyance with getting soapy and Wells saw this and decided he didn’t like what was happening. He grabbed Millie’s hand and walked her away from the boys after giving them a serious, baby babbling talking-to.

Before we went back to our room, we let the kids get rock candy at the candy store. Of course Wells chose blue and Millie, pink. The store looked like Willy Wonka’s factory. We walked back to our room and ate a late night snack before bed; potato chips and Oreos. The bed felt sandy from all the crumbs that landed on the blankets. Mill chose to sleep with her dad and Wells slept with me. He dream-fed basically all night so my sleep sucked and morning came early. Bananas, grapes, and vegan sausage sandwiches were for breakfast.

Checkout was at 11am. Chris packed up our things; our singular suitcase full of the clothes we no longer needed. He packed a tote bag with our water park needs and clothes to change into after. (This was the only part of the trip that I did not enjoy because of the hustle and bustle of trying to check out in time. Not to mention, changing ourselves and the kids at the water park was chaotic.) If we do this again, we will not go to the water park on the day we leave.

The kids were just as excited to be at the water park the second time as they were the first. We met a nice family in the hot springs that reminded me of the Newport Aquarium only thirty minutes away from the resort. While the kids ate lunch on beach chairs, I bought tickets for Wells to see some sharks. Changing the kids from their wet bathing suits into dry clothes in the damp, resort bathroom was not fun. Also, because it was going to be freezing outside, we were changing into sweaters in the heat of the humid park and that felt gross. Walking out into the thirty degree weather actually felt refreshing.

Both kids fell asleep in the car on the way to the aquarium. Finding parking in a new place is always stressful for Chris and me but once we did, we woke up the kids, and made our way across the Levee. We found the aquarium and I was irritated before we walked through the doors; the listed operating hours differed from the automated machine I listened to before I bought our tickets. We had less time to explore the aquarium than I expected and when I spoke to the ticket office about the discrepancy, they admitted that they had not updated their automated service and the manager refunded us half our money back for the inconvenience. I was impressed by the customer service and was ready to have a good time with Millie and Wells at the aquarium.

The fish in this aquarium were unlike any we’d ever seen; different species of seahorses, prehistoric-air-breathing fish, stingray sharks, etc. The most breathtaking moment happened when a giant sea turtle made eye contact with Wells and started swimming to him. We were the only ones in that exhibit and it was magical. We were lucky to catch this moment on video. Months later, Wells still watches the sea turtle video with amazement.

One of the exhibits had a coloring station where you would color a fish, scan it into a machine, and your colored fish would show up, swimming on a digital aquarium screen. It was really cool! I colored a fish with eighth notes but the technology mirrored the image and the note heads were backward (that still bugs me a month later). A little girl at the penguin exhibit asked Millie her name, and Mill proudly stated her full name and her age. She held up the correct number of fingers and then she asked the girl her name. The little girl introduced herself as Ry-Ry. Wells put his hand on his chest and very clearly said, “Wells”. I looked over at Chris and started to tear up. Not only did he understand to introduce himself in that social setting, but he did it with such clarity and confidence. My whole heart welled with pride.

Both babes slept the two hour car ride home. I was exhausted from the trip but managed to prepare and eat dinner, bathe the kids, unpack the over night bag, and crawl into bed by ten. It was difficult waking up for work the next morning but the trip happening mid-week made the weekend come quick. Millie was so excited to call the grandparents and tell them all about her experience. She wants them all to be with us the next time we go to Great Wolf Lodge. A quick vacation with lasting memories.

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We Forget

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We Forget

I don’t know why our brains can’t remember the details of the good stuff. Actually, I do. I learned about it at a professional development meeting on trauma and stress. I hate staying late at work and being late to Millie, Wells, and Mawmaw. Alas, I did pick up one thing from the seemingly useless meeting; our brains remember the traumatic memories to best protect us and because our brain doesn’t need to protect us from the good stuff, it doesn’t retain it. What a load of crap.

Tonight’s good stuff is laying on the couch, way too late, on the Eve of a snow day. Wells is next to me, dream feeding, peacefully. His foot isn’t any bigger than my hand. His little body is so soft and squishable. I feel his legs and arms lay over mine. I listen to him breathe. I hold his hand and rub his back all while thinking about his future, who he will become, and how I fit in it. I pray over him and kiss him and tell him I love him.

As much as I want it to be, this blog post will never be the real thing. When I read this again, it’ll be because I’m missing my babies. I’m sad for future me. I’m sad because I know that I will want this time back. But for now, I sign off to live in the moment I have, no matter how fleeting it is, to hold my baby while he sleeps because my children are the greatest blessings of my entire life.

lifestyle

Fall Fun 21

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Fall Fun 21

Before I can start writing about winter (it’s December 27th) here is a blog about our Fall.

Millie started ballet classes through Ballet Met. She is a “Mini Mover”, a class for 3 and 4 year olds. Maw, Mill, and I went to Opening Night, a store that sells dance attire, to try on and purchase her dance uniform; a pink cap sleeved leotard, a pink skirt, white socks, and white ballet shoes. (We got a sequin dance bag and a pink scrunchie, too.) While a sales woman was helping Millie try on ballet slippers, Mill was talking her ear off about the catfish in our backyard. The owner heard Mill talking and peaked out the dressing rooms, “I just had to hear who was saying that!” I was mortified. She must have thought we were such hillbillies. We found out that her feet are two different sizes; a half size difference. Millie leapt around the room when she had on her full uniform on and she was glowing.

1 day a week Millie attends dance class. There are 6 students total, all girls. Her teachers name is Miss. Sarah and they have a pianist that plays their rehearsal music. I asked Millie what the piano players name was and very matter of factly she told me, “Issac”. Come to find out his name is not Issac at all. It’s Gabe. The students are encouraged to wear masks during class. I thought this would be an issue for Millie but she never fusses about it and keeps it on. A month into classes, I asked Miss. Sarah how Mill was doing to which she responded, “Mia has a lot of great ideas.” This told me that Millie is probably trying to teach the class herself. She likes having “Mommy and Millie” time together after class when we get doughnuts or run errands. This ballet season has been really special.

We walked over to the high school to attend a Friday night football game. This was Wells’ first football game. Members of the OSU marching band who were GC alumni performed at half time. The kids enjoyed the music and clapped when appropriate. Wells wanted to sit independently between Chris and me, instead of on our laps. Once the game started, Wells wanted to be up and moving. He made a loop; down the stairs, under the bleachers, up the stairs, through the bleachers. He did this probably five times and when he’d hit a straight away, he would run. We bought a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and snacked on the way home.

Maw took a walk with the kids one fall afternoon and Millie took note of the many houses that were decorated – ours wasn’t one of them. That weekend I took both kids to a farmers market where I pulled them around in a wagon and they got to pick out their favorite pumpkins. Wells loved the mini pumpkins and Millie loved them all. We also got a delicious bag of apples and two bundles of corn for the columns on our front porch. The stalks barely fit in the Jeep; they were probably 7ft long! The kids laughed on the way home as they played with the corn above their heads. They helped decorate the porch and Wells cried when he realized we were leaving the pumpkins outside.

We went took our annual trip to Zassys Vendor Markets and brought Lindsey along with us. The kids tried kettle corn for the first time and they ate it up! Millie flossed to the live music. I bought way too many plants including Millie’s first plant, a pink algaonema that we put on her book shelf. She named the plant, Leafy and sang it Happy Birthday. We came home with way too many kids in the car after picking up Lindsey’s boys.

We took our family Christmas pictures at the end of October. My cousins boyfriend is a great photographer and doesn’t mind coming to us to take pictures. Millie wore a green dress that paired well with mine. The ribbon belt that came with my dress looked perfect around her waist. Wells looked so handsome in his sweater, jeans, and boots. Wells was beyond his nap time so we didn’t get a lot of smiles out of him however, we were able to get a couple shots for the Christmas card. We quickly changed into our Halloween attire and took pictures on the front porch dressed as Wendy, Captain Hook, Tinkerbell, and a lost boy (skunk). We like to get into our costumes and take pictures before Halloween because the night of trick-or-treat is always so busy and the lighting is always terrible. Maw and I tweaked Mills costume and I bought Wells’ from an Etsy shop. Millie was so excited to blow “pixie dust” out of her hands and Wells was excited to throw his slingshot around. Thankfully, the pictures turned out super cute and Christmas cards have been mailed out.

On a rainy night in October, we decided to brave the Circleville Pumpkin Show. Neither Chris or his brother, Uncle Nick (who now lives in Ohio) had ever been to the pumpkin show in Circleville. We parked where we could find a spot, a few blocks away from the festivities, then Chris pushed the double stroller down the city sidewalk as I admired the architectural elements of the quaint houses. Wells wanted to walk around on his own so Chris and I stayed close to him as he explored freely. His smile was contagious; he was so happy to be out on his own. At the end of the night we watched a parade with floats, terrible sounding bands, and tons of beauty pageant queens. A man running for Congress asked Millie her name from his float, she told him and he waved back and used her name; she was on cloud nine.

This was the first year our family has participated in going door to door for Trick or Treat. Millie helped pass out candy her first Halloween. The weather was awful for her second. Her third Trick or Treat was canceled due to COVID. This Halloween, Uncle Nick came over and passed out candy so that we could take the kids to a couple houses. Beggars night in Ohio is the absolute worst, so of course it was raining. Millie dressed as Tinker bell carried her candy bag and an umbrella. Wells, happy to be walking independently, was a drenched skunk by the end of the night. Millie was very polite to the neighbors passing out candy and Wells was mostly interested in their dogs. Most of the candy in their bags was chocolate so we swapped the candy bars out with vegan candies.

Then Millie turned four. (I seriously don’t know how time has moved so quickly. She was wiping her mouth with a napkin the other day and I was like, “How does she know to do that?” I took the day off of work so we could spend her birthday together. We kicked off the day by icing some of the cookies for her birthday party. Then, we went to see a movie and it was the first time Millie had ever been to the movie theater! We had slim pickings on the movie choices but we decided on The Addams Family 2; we watched the first Addams Family the week before so she was excited to see the sequel. We ordered popcorn, pretzel bites, and fries – most of the food was gone before the movie even started. The movie was showing in theater number four, which of course was super special for the newly 4 year old. We had the theater all to ourselves, I guess no one else wanted to see The Addams Family 2 at one o’clock on a weekday. After the opening credits, Millie asked if she could sit on my lap. I reclined the seat back and we snuggled during the entire movie. What more could a mama ask for? It was the best.

The movie ended and per Millie’s request, we got doughnuts at Krispy Kreme. She picked out her favorites from behind the glass and even got a birthday cake doughnut. I let her eat a mini doughnut in the car and after she finished it, she fell fast asleep in her car seat. She had an awesome birthday and couldn’t wait for her cat themed birthday party with her friends and family.

Millie and I watched the musical, Cats together and were both equal parts mesmerized and creeped out. When I asked Mill what party theme she wanted, she was adamant she wanted a Gabby’s Dollhouse party, a children’s Netflix series about cats. Gabby products were difficult to find with Christmas right around the corner so the party was a more generic, “cat” theme. Kitties on the table, cats on the cake, felines in the flowers, and kittens on the plates! I ordered some decor off of Etsy and had the kids decorate kitty faces onto cookies. Millie got so many presents including a ballerina sleeping bag, a backpack full of craft supplies, new clothes, new crocs, and leg warmers.

We saw two spectacular light shows; Conservatory Aglow at the Franklin Park Conservatory and Wildlights at the Columbus Zoo. The conservatory had animal topiaries wrapped in lights and both kids were amazed to see their favorite animals, the elephants (Wells) and giraffes (Millie). They both enjoyed the rainbow arch, walking through a candy land house, and playing on the ropes in the children’s garden. We knew it was time to leave when we caught Millie laying down on the sidewalk by the wooden xylophone. We grabbed free cookies and a craft at the exit. The cookies were eaten on the car ride home and the ornament craft was created that night but destroyed by morning.

We went to the zoo lights with Uncle Nick, his new girlfriend Megan, and our engaged friends Dru and Katey. Both children fell asleep on the way to the zoo. We barely made it through the front gate before Uncle Nick bought them both flashy, light up wands. Santa was there but because of COVID, the kids couldn’t sit on his lap (I’m not sure the kids would’ve wanted to anyway). Millie was not a fan of the elf that introduced her to Santa. They continued to ask her if she was from the North Pole and she did not like that at all. When Santa asked her what she wanted for Christmas she very definitively said, “A Gabbys Dollhouse” to which Santa replied, “That’s a very popular present this year”. Wells signed, “thank you” to Santa and then blew him a kiss. It was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen and Santa said he’d be giving Wells a very special gift under the tree.

On Thanksgiving, we ate biscuits and gravy while watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Chris accidentally turned off the tv during the Rockettes routine! Millie was excited to see the balloons. We went over to my aunts house and saw my dads side of the family. Then, we went over to my grandmas house and saw my moms side of the family. Facebook marketplace helped us find a Gabbys Dollhouse (triple the retail price) and Chris picked that up while we watched football. After a full day of traveling, we enjoyed a vegan Thanksgiving meal the next day.

Baby, toddler

Summer 2021

by motheringmillieLeave a Comment on Summer 2021
Summer 2021

I write with Wells sleeping next to me. I listen to him breathe and I thank God for my beautiful, healthy children. I don’t want to forget the memories we made this summer; when Millie’s thirty, asking me questions about her childhood, I pray I’ll remember but if my memory fails, there’s always this blog.

We would sleep in every morning, all three of us. Wells was still breastfeeding so he’d sleep next to me and I’d kiss his little hands. His feet would curl up and rest on my stomach. That boy would sleep all day if I laid next to him. Millie would wake up to the sounds of her daddy getting ready for work, come into our room still half asleep, and crawl into our bed for another hour or two. Millie insists on putting her own toothpaste on her toothbrush and she received a fantastic dental report at her first dentist appointment this summer.

Both kids enjoyed playing on Mawmaw’s back patio this summer. Millie loved redecorating the fairy garden and Wells loved to destroy it. Maw had a faux pond made of blue stones that Wells would put in his mouth, sometimes three at a time. Maw would fill up a plastic, clear tote with water and they would splash and play; Wells’ head being in the 100th percentile made him a bit top heavy so his head would go under the water anytime he would bend over the edge. Maw bought guest passes for her neighborhood’s pool and we able to enjoy that this summer. The first time we went, Wells stuck his index finger out to a wasp who was trying to escape the water and it repeatedly stung him. It swelled up pretty bad but maw got him some children’s Benadryl and it was fine. Millie made some new friends and even braved the water slide by the end of the summer.

The trampoline park was a good time for the kids. We went once with Lindsey and her boys and once with Papa. Wells couldn’t really bounce on the trampolines but he enjoyed running around. He didn’t like keeping his socks on. One older lady saw him and said, “He looks like a football player!” Both kids liked throwing the balls. Millie met a worker there named Isla that she referred to as her “big sister”. Isla was sweet with Mill and played with her on the trampolines.

We went to the zoo many times this summer. Twice with Lindsey, Logan, and Ben. Once with Mawmaw, and once with Papa. Giraffes are Millie’s favorite animal and Wells loves the elephants (he can buzz his lips together to make a trumpet sound). When we went to see the elephants, I held Wells in front of Hank, the male elephant. Wells held out his elephant stuffy like he was giving it to Hank, it was so sweet. Millie did an excellent job being brave and riding the camel this summer. Both babes rode on the carousel; Mill wasn’t a fan of the up and down motion of the horse and poor Wells was terrified when we started moving (he was shaking, wasn’t breathing, his eyes were wide, and he was turning red). I held him until he was ready to get back on the horse and by the end of the ride, he didn’t want to get off!

Zoombeezie Bay was an unforgettable outing. This adventure with Lindsey was planned “day of” and it was doomed from the start. Dublin, Ohio had a 15% chance of rain but we figured we’d chance it and maybe less people would be there. I had one swim diaper. Lindsey forgot her stroller. We went straight to the kids splash area; my kids loved the slides but Lindsey’s boys were not into it. Wells amazed me with how brave he was getting wet and maneuvering around the other children. We enjoyed the water for maybe an hour before the sky opened and it down poured. While we waited for the storm to pass we watched the stingrays in their new exhibit. Millie did not want to touch the stingrays. The rain continued despite the iPhone forecast so we saw some more indoor animals (we called it the ghetto zoo because this enclosure had crows and cats lol). As we were heading towards the exit, there was a seal show about to begin. The kids really enjoyed the seals. Wells chose to sit by himself on the stairs and he clapped along appropriately which was cute. We got drenched on the way back to our cars – I used napkins from my glove compartment to wipe myself off. Millie loves to say, “We’re going to Zoombeezi Bay!” when playing make believe so maybe for the children, it wasn’t so bad after all.

Going to the Franklin Park Conservatory was always a good time. We went many times; Maw, Lindsey, Logan, and Ben, Katey, and we had a “girls only” play date with Brooke (a friend of mine from work) and Mya her four year old daughter. The kids loved to explore the children’s garden. They climbed on rope webs, played in the water, made music with sticks, watered the flowers, played in the mud house, had puppet shows – Mill used the owl puppet and told a joke, “Who turned the owl upside down?” She held the puppet upside down and the answer was the owl! It was so cute seeing her come up with a joke like that on the spot. Wells fed the Coy fish his puff snacks. They both loved seeing the banana plant and climbing to the top of the tree house. They enjoyed watching the toy train with Charlie Brown characters on it.

We moved into a new house this summer. This is the third house that Millie has lived in, in her three years of life. Maw watched the kids while we moved the majority of our things into the new home. Millie slept in bed with us the first two nights we were in the house. When we did our final walk through of our previous house, Millie was with us and had to go potty. “Mommy, I don’t remember where the potty is in this house!” Both babes adjusted to the new home just fine.

We went to the Outer Banks with Chris’ family for a week vacation. Instead of driving straight there, we broke up the drive and stayed a night with my mom in Virginia. From there, it was a four hour drive to the beach that we caravanned down with Chris’ family. We made a stop at a farmers market along the way and picked up some corn on the cob and blueberries for the children. The man sitting on the porch cut up a peach with his pocket knife and gave us slices to try with the dirt still on it. Both children traveled well, between downloaded episodes of Pete the Cat and the Chipmunks movie, they slept, and ate snacks to pass the time.

We stayed in a beach house with his parents, his grandparents, his aunt, his uncle and his family. Our room was on the first floor and together we shared a king sized bed. Wells was particularly fond of the bed because he could reach the light switch. He thought he was cool stuff, “eee” every time he flipped them. Wells also would wave at the pelican and lizard statues every time we’d use the staircase. Wells wanted to be included in everything; corn hole, bocce ball. He was overwhelmed by the beach initially but once he experienced the waves and the sand over the course of the week, he warmed up to it. Millie was still hesitant to swim on her own but she loved jumping into the pool to her daddy. She got to bury Michael’s girlfriend in the sand, make a sand castle with her daddy, and fly a kite on the beach with her grandpa.

Thankfully, I didn’t watch any shark documentaries before we went. Apparently, the sharks are attacking much closer to the NC shore and Chris took Mill out into the ocean many times to his waist level. (Definitely won’t be doing that next summer.) Since the beach, Wells has been particularly fond of sharks; he wants to watch them on tv and makes growling sounds when he sees one. He got a Baby Shark Outer Banks shirt and every time he wears it, Millie sings the song, “Do do do do”. On a rainy day, we took the kids to the aquarium in Manteo and they had a blast. Wells would wave at the fish and Millie loved the interactive touch screens. Grandpa bought Wells a baby shark sing along book from the gift shop – which continues to annoy us months later.

Our last summer hoorah was a trip to PA on Labor Day weekend. We went to an amusement park called, Idlewild that has Daniel Tigers Neighborhood attractions. Millie wore her Daniel tiger shirt and brought along her character stuffies. We got there just in time for a performance so we found seats in the shade and waited for Daniels appearance. Like the wind leaving a balloon, gone was Mill’s excitement upon seeing, “big head Daniel”. She hid behind my back peering over my shoulder for the remainder of the show. Wells chose to sit by himself, just like he did at the seal show, and watched curiously. At the end of the show, we all took a picture with Daniel and seriously, he must have been 6 foot 5 in that costume. When you watch Daniel on TV he’s supposed to be like 5 years old. What five year old could start for the Chicago Bulls?

We rode on an interactive trolley ride and both kids liked that. The characters along the trail were made out of cardboard and Mill did not let that detail slide. We found Daniels house (also made out of cardboard) and Millie was afraid to knock on the door, but not Wells. Wells particularly loved the children’s only trolley ride. He sat across from Millie and through the windows, we could see them holding hands. Wells’ arm rested on the window sill and Chris and I laughed at how grown he looked. We stayed the night in a hotel and ate breakfast in bed the next morning.

Things I’ll miss most from this summer:

– taking walks with the kids and my dad

– watching the new season of Bluey, listening to both kids sing the intro

– Wells’ love for corn on the cob

– knowing when I went to sleep that the next day I’d get to spend it with my children all over again

moving

Would the Owner of the White Car Please GTFOH

Featuredby motheringmillieLeave a Comment on Would the Owner of the White Car Please GTFOH
Would the Owner of the White Car Please GTFOH

As we settled into our new home we noticed a car that seemed to never move, parked outside our house. My friends assumed we bought a used car; it was always there, on the curb. One morning as I was watering the plants, our neighbor introduced herself to me, “I am 72 years old and we will never leave this home.” … our initial interaction was odd but I chalked that up to her age. The next morning as I was watering my hydrangeas I asked my neighbor if she knew who’s car was parked in front of my house, “Yeah, it’s mine”. After that, the car moved for about a week but then it was back for good.

I was chasing Mill up the sidewalk when I ran into a neighbor who was all too eager to gossip about everyone in our cul-de-sac. She told me that her neighbor was socially awkward (like he might keep women in his basement – her words not mine) and that the boys who ride their bikes around are autistic. Between her assumptions and fabrications she did spew some interesting information about my next door neighbor, “If the white car is out front, that means her son is living with them again”.

The interactions with those neighbors were minimal. We’d wave to the old man as he mowed his grass. I would talk to the woman about the weather as we watered our flowers. As the weather got colder and snow covered the streets, I would shovel their sidewalk along with mine. Millie and I made them a plate of cookies for Christmas; an assortment of cookies with a card that she signed. We bundled up and walked over to their house but left the cookies on the porch because nobody answered. (We assumed it was because of COVID.)

March rolled around and the kids were desperate to get outside. On a particularly nice evening, after dinner, we took a family walk. Chris pushed the stroller and we let Millie run around in the grass by the pond. As we were headed home, we ran into a friend of mine, a sales representative for instruments and repair. We knew that he lived in our neighborhood but had never seen him out before. As we were chatting, Mill and Wells were playing with his dog. During our conversation about home values and mulch fundraisers, he mentioned that he thought we lived in close proximity of a child sex offender; he thought the man lived on our street and that he might in fact be our next door neighbor. The conversation moved onto back patios and football then oddly enough, his neighbors lawn mower caught fire right in front of us. Even an explosion wasn’t enough to get my mind off of the potential threat to my family.

I sat on the couch, pulled out my phone, and frantically began searching the internet. Our county has a website that allows you to search for sex offenders near you. I typed in our home address and my fear was confirmed. We had five offenders within a two mile radius of us, with the closest being the house next door. The mugshot associated with the address was not of the owner of the home, but their son. The site listed his name, age, employer and his work address, crimes committed, vehicle description and license plate number. This confirmed that the white car in front of my home was his, a man convected of pandering a juvenile male.

My anxiety heightened as the night went on. “The children played outside in their bathing suits this summer! I literally walked Millie over to their porch to deliver Christmas cookies!” Chris and I knew that we had to have more answers before we started to assume the worst. The following day, Chris walked over to speak with the neighbors. I could see him from the window above my kitchen sink. The old couple sat with Chris on the porch for what felt like an eternity. When he came back home, the news was not comforting.

Our neighbors were incredibly forthcoming with information. They assumed we knew about their son, the sexual predator. Chris explained to them that we were unaware and that we were concerned for the well-being of our children. They commended Chris for wanting to protect his family and told him that he was the first person in the neighborhood to approach them with questions. They told Chris about their 46 year old son who had his doctorate in French studies. What started as one glass of scotch a night became two, three, four, etc. He began downloading child pornography – they claim he didn’t realize that the children in these videos were being abused. According to his parents, he went to court, lost everything, and was living with them because he was suicidal. He struggles with the guilt of knowing what he had participated in. He was assigned a probation officer and a physiatrist that he spoke with daily. He chose to do his grocery shopping during the school day while kids were at school, he limited his time spent outside, his internet rights were taken away – but in the six months his probation would end.

I feared the worst. Could my children ever play outside without me worrying? What if he hacks into our WiFi and illegally downloads filthy things and the police thinks it’s us?! I couldn’t wrap my mind around him watching the 15+ children on my street. Why wouldn’t his parents move him away from the temptation? I called the non-emergency police line and spoke with a deputy about my options. His words verbatim, “We protect those bastards and because he registers as an offender, he continues to have the same rights as everyone else.” I was advised to not say anything in the form of signs or fliers because I could be sued for defamation of character. The officers advice to us was to move away. He said, “Don’t play Russian roulette with your children.”

Watering my plants was no longer enjoyable. I was on high alert whenever I was outside. I was uncomfortable getting my mail, playing in the yard with the kids, and eating dinners on the patio. I knew it was time to get serious about moving. We contacted our realtor, who swears she had no idea about the proximity of the sex offender, and she put a for sale sign in our front yard. That sign was a visual representation of taking control of a dangerous situation. The market was insane but we sold our beautiful home (that we only lived in for eleven months) and we were able to move out of that neighborhood and into one with two schools within a mile (so no sex offenders can live there).

I remember the first interaction I had with that neighbor, telling me that she’d never leave – what a bizarre thing to say to someone you just met. Now I realize why she said it. She thought we knew about her son. She thought I was curious if the sex offender on the street would be moving any time soon. As I walked into the post office for a change of address form, I noticed a sign hanging on the lobby cork board with fines and penalties for sending illegal mail; $50k for reusing postage. $10K for sending child pornography. My eyes have been opened in a whole new, terrifying way.

Baby

Pandemic Parenting

by motheringmillieLeave a Comment on Pandemic Parenting
Pandemic Parenting

On March 3rd 2020, I delivered Wells with my husband, grandmother, father, and photographer in the room. If I would have had him on his due date, just two weeks later, I would have had to birth him alone. While we packed up our bags from our hospital stay, breaking news declared a mask mandate in Chicago and we feared Ohio would be next. We asked my nurse for masks; “I’m sorry, we are down to our last two boxes on this floor.” Chris immediately regret discarding his mask from labor and delivery.

My mom planned to stay with us for six weeks; helping with Millie and the housework while I focused on healing and bonding with Wells. Chris didn’t get any paternity leave so my moms help was a Godsend. A week after we came home from the hospital, the government shut down the state boarders around New York; my mom couldn’t stay with us indefinitely if Ohio chose to follow suit. Selfishly, I wanted my mom to stay and help but alas, my mom went back to Virginia.

Planning for this pregnancy, we knew that I would not get paid for the entirety of my maternity leave. My sick days accrue; if I work a month without taking a sick day, I earn a day of sick time. I had proudly saved twenty sick days which meant I would get two pay checks during my six-week maternity leave. After my sister passed in September of 2019, I used three weeks of my sick time, grieving her loss. On top of being pregnant and losing my sister, I was definitely stressed about the amount of unpaid leave I would have to take. Fortunately, I was able to borrow a weeks worth of sick time from myself so we would receive at least one paycheck during my six-week, maternity leave.

I had one sick day left to use when I got a phone call from a friend and fellow teacher that we were going to start teaching, virtually. Could I also work virtually (make money) while still on maternity leave? I was able to convince my OB that I could, “return” to work as long as work meant teaching from my couch. I fed Wells, Millie watched Mickey Mouse Club House, and I was posting music assignments at the same damn time. The pandemic allowed me to stay home for 21 weeks without a single, unpaid day.

As if new mothers aren’t paranoid enough, add a global pandemic to the mix. Thankfully, Chris’ company assigned his department to work from home so we weren’t getting germs from his job. Groceries were bought through delivery services and bags were sanitized at the door. Once Wells gained back his birth weight and was no longer jaundiced, we didn’t take him to another pediatric appointment until he was six months old. I should have gone to my six week OB appointment – I didn’t. I had a terrible, terrible pain in my right nipple from a latch issue – I didn’t receive outside help. My cousin unexpectedly passed away and we didn’t attend her funeral. I wasn’t comfortable breaking our “bubble”, so we stayed in.

Chris working from home turned out to be a blessing. He was able to hold Wells during his lunch hour and help change diapers between meetings. Wells definitely got more time with daddy due to the pandemic. I had planned on spending quality time watching Cubs baseball during my maternity leave, but the season was postponed and there was no baseball to be watched. We used this time at home to potty train Millie. She didn’t like feeling poop in her diaper so she would take the diaper off and the poo would get everywhere – it was time. We stripped her naked, packed away the diapers, gave her tons to drink throughout the day and constantly encouraged her to sit on the potty. We rewarded her, even if she sat on the toilet just to toot. We bought her cute undies with Frozen characters on them. We experienced more victories than accidents, but there were many accidents, especially when we would play outside. Within the month, she was completely potty trained.

The week before Wells was born, our realtor called wanting to show us a house that checked every box on our “wish list”. We dropped Millie off at my dads and I waddled through the open house. It was in a neighborhood with better schools, gave us a thousand more square feet, and had a fenced in backyard. Also, homes in our neighborhood were selling quickly at above asking price. The market was right, the house was perfect, but I was doubting how the timeline would work for us. The same day Wells was born, our offer on the house was accepted.

The worst part of selling our home during the pandemic was having to leave the house during showings; there was no where to go because everything was closed so we would load both kids in the Jeep and drive around, praying that no one entering our home was COVID positive. I would sit my postpartum butt between the two car seats and read to the kids while we ordered French fries through the Burger King drive through. The house inspectors and appraisers were weeks behind because of the shutdown. The contractors that installed our new floors had to break for two weeks because they had been in close contact with COVID-19.

All of our activity memberships expired; COSI, Franklin Park Conservatory, the Zoo. Zumbini went virtual and we tried classes through Zoom but Millie lost interest. She was getting stir crazy staying home; heck, I was too, so we would do at least one activity together everyday. It was nice to spend some one-on-one time with her because well, Wells. She loved when I would ask her to wash the dishes in the sink or when I’d let her scrub her toys. We made multi-colored foam in her water table. I taped shapes on the floor for her to organize her blocks. She loved to finger paint. We colored eggs for Easter. We became quite the bakers; she loved watching the baking competition shows and trying new recipes. We jumped in puddles on rainy afternoons and watched for, “sworms”. We would adventure in our yard where she found some fallen pine cones which she called, “coconuts”. If we were blessed with good weather, Chris would take Millie to the park across the street on his lunch break; until yellow caution tape was wrapped around the slides and the playground was off limits to promote social distancing.

The holidays were different, to say the least. We celebrated Palm Sunday by fanning around artificial leaf decorations left over from Millie’s second birthday and blowing bubbles in the back yard. Thankfully, I bought Easter gifts early because most stores were shut down. Church was virtual and we watched Easter service from my phone. Maw surprised us by decorating our tree in the front yard with eggs shaped like rabbits and ducks. She didn’t come in because she knew she’d want to hold the kids and she just couldn’t. (She had been in and out of the hospital after our cousin’s liver transplant and it just wasn’t safe to be around each other.) There was no Fourth of July parade and although we heard fireworks all through the night, we could not see any.

In November, Millie turned three and our governor had given clear instructions that no more than 10 people were allowed to gather together. Realizing I couldn’t throw Mill the birthday that I wanted for her, made me empathetic towards those who had to cancel their events due to the pandemic; weddings, trips, graduation parties, etc. It broke my heart to tell family members and friends that they could not come over to celebrate with us. So on Millie’s third birthday, my parents and the in-laws came over to celebrate and we FaceTimed others while she blew out her candles.

One very ordinary evening in December, Chris had a sore throat. Neither of us thought anything of it until he had chills throughout the night. He called our family doctor who then scheduled him to be tested for COVID. By the time of his test, he felt like he had been hit by a truck; even sitting was painful. Chris received a positive covid test and two days later, Wells and I had symptoms; body aches, fatigue, and a fever to follow. Wells slept the worst he ever had in his life. I could tell by his cry that he was in pain. Following suite, within the next two days, my grandmother who watches the kids during the week was symptomatic. Her and I both lost our taste and smell. Covid had infested our family.

Five days after Chris tested positive, Mill still had no signs of the virus. We were so impressed with her immune system! We must not have knocked on wood quick enough because without warning, my energetic fire ball was melting into the couch. Millie was lethargic and had a fever of 100.3. We called the pediatrician and she told us to give her children’s Tylenol and monitor her symptoms. We put her in the bath tub and encouraged fluids. Once the medicine was in her system, she was back to her normal self. You could tell when the medicine would start to wear off – she’d slow down, get rosy cheeks, and her eyes would gloss over. She took her medicine while I sang, “Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.” Sweet girl didn’t fight it at all. Her symptoms lasted 48 hours.

The virus did not keep us from:

  • Worshipping the Lord
  • Celebrating birthdays
  • Going to VA
  • Playing in the snow (Millie makes the best snow angels)
  • Moving my grandma into a new condo
  • Making Christmas cookies and giving them to our neighbors
  • Sending Valentine’s cards
  • Going to the zoo
  • Dedicating Wells

Not everyone had our same comfort level for socialization during the pandemic. We were not fearful of a virus with a 98% survival rate, we had faith in our immune systems, and we agreed with Pastor Doyle when he spoke about togetherness. Unfortunately, many family members missed out on important birthdays, holidays, and other once in a lifetime events because of their own anxieties about safety. The thought process was, “I want to be around for the holidays that they’ll remember.” but no one can guarantee tomorrow. [Millie (3) and Wells (1) just because you might not remember this year, doesn’t make your experiences any less valuable. I’m blogging so that if one day you don’t remember, my words may be enough.]

“If you’re a pandemic baby and you’ve been in quarantine your whole life, you get overstimulated by everything ’cause all the strangers that you see have masks on, and you’ve never really had a playdate in your life.”

I worry about how much this year has affected our children. One year out of my thirty is nothing, but one year to my three year old? That’s a third of her life. Wells? His entire life. Children aren’t as resilient as we like to think, you know? Why do so many adults find themselves in therapy – childhood trauma. We have absolutely no idea the ramifications of living this closed off, pandemic life. Millie was supposed to start dance this year and Wells doesn’t know what it’s like to be around other children. I’m heartbroken and concerned for our children, this generation now labeled as, “Gen C”.

Crazy things about COVID:

  • This started during an election year.
  • People hoarded toilet paper and sold it for obscene amounts of money on the internet.
  • Your Great, Great Uncle Bobby, who is bedridden in a nursing home (suffers from strokes) survived the virus!
  • There were directional arrows on the floors of stores and MawMaw became the aisle police. Although, she told me if I needed to go down an aisle with an arrow facing the opposite direction, to just walk backwards and act like I “forgot” something.
  • Millie was told she had to wear a mask upon entering the Disney store.
  • People were also concerned about murder hornets (I’m still not positive about the murders – were they murdering bees? People?)
  • The sports stadiums were empty (they broadcasted with fake audience cheers, it was bizarre) but some stadiums offered fans to buy cardboard cutouts of themselves to place in the seats. Gam got Millie a cutout for the Shoe so she was “at” the Buckeye games.

I thought I’d finish this blog post months ago (I began writing in August of 2020) but the pandemic trudged on. Ohio is now in a state of “purple” meaning we are worse off when we were in the “red” during our initial shutdown (the colors are arbitrary). Children are back in school full time, sporting events are being held with spectators, vaccines are being administered through drive-thrus – I don’t know what’s next for parenting in the pandemic but I’m glad this blog can be updated because I’m sure it’s not over.

Baby

Millie Met Wells

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Millie Met Wells

My father being in the delivery room was not in my birth plan. He bought a “little brother” onesie from the hospital gift shop and to his surprise, I was mid-push in active labor when he came to show me. He watched as Wells entered the world and was placed upon my chest. My dad went out into the waiting room where his wife, my step-mom, was watching Millie. She asked my dad how I liked the onesie and was completely surprised when he told her that baby Wells was born! He explained that the baby had been delivered while he was “delivering” the outfit. Together, my dad and step-mom brought Millie to the delivery room to meet her baby brother.

Millie stood nervously at the entrance of the room until her daddy welcomed her over to my bedside. She ran with great two-year-old-gusto into his arms. He kissed her on the head as he lifted her up to see the new baby. Millie saw Wells sleeping in my arms. “Oh, baby Wells!” After the many months of telling Mille that she was going to have a baby brother, she finally was able to meet him. Chris and I were given matching hospital bracelets that linked us to baby Wells and the nurse gave Millie a bracelet that said, big sister. It was purple and adorable but Mill didn’t like it around her wrist and had the nurse cut it off. Sitting on the bed, she sang him, “Happy Birthday”.

The nurse took Wells to get his measurements and Millie followed; she wanted to be where her little brother was. Millie demanded her daddy, “pick me up” so she could have a better view of Wells. She informed the nurse that she was the big sister and made a comment about her stethoscope (a word she picked up from watching Doc McStuffins). The nurse was very impressed with her vocabulary and let her wear the stethoscope around her neck. To my surprise, Wells weighed over eight pounds! I was in disbelief because my ultrasound the week prior, the tech said he was weighing in at less than seven. After having Millie, a 4.8lb baby, Wells was giant! As Wells started to fuss, Millie got upset. She was already protective of her little brother.

Millie was to come back to the hospital the next day to take “fresh 48” photos (pictures taken within the first 48 hours after birth). I found out that Millie had gotten sick after eating breakfast. She had never thrown up before. I blame the puking on her grandparents because I guarantee they gave her way too much sugar. The hospital pediatrician said it was okay that she come up as long as she wasn’t running a fever. (The world was very different a week before the lockdown.) Millie bulldozed into the room and no one would have ever guessed that she got sick earlier in the day. She had on an outfit that matched her brother’s.

We laid Wells on some pillows next to Millie in the hospital bed. She was so curious; she kept trying to pull his hair up to see how long it was. “I hold him, daddy?” She rested her cheek on his head and it about melted my heart.

Baby

Welcoming Wells

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Welcoming Wells

At 33 weeks pregnant with Millie, my OB instructed me to go to labor and delivery. I felt miserable; pounding headaches, swelling to point of discomfort, dizziness and fatigue. I left the OBs office completely unable to accept the reality of induction. Instead of rushing to the hospital, I had my husband take me to Arby’s. As I pumped ketchup onto my tray, a lady grabbing napkins said to me, “If you have a girl and see blood in her diaper, don’t be alarmed, it’s her hormones.” What? Suddenly, I had lost my appetite for ketchup.

33 weeks came and went during my second pregnancy yet, everyday the thought of preeclampsia was a very real concern. I checked my blood pressure with an at-home monitor, I constantly analyzed the size of my ankles, and I actually iced and elevated my feet at night. 34 weeks into my pregnancy, we lost my step-father due to a massive heart attack, just four months after unexpectedly, losing my sister. I was fearful that the grief and stress would throw me into labor but thankfully, the baby stayed put.

37 weeks of pregnancy is considered full term; something I never was able to experience with Millie. I still feel a tinge of guilt for not being able to carry her longer. I was ecstatic to have made it to term with this pregnancy and also surprised I didn’t feel entirely miserable. Don’t get me wrong, the pelvic pressure was painful and sleeping comfortably was a challenge, but life wasn’t completely intolerable; nothing like what 33 weeks pregnant with preeclampsia felt like. My OB said we made it to term because of the daily dose of baby aspirin but I like to think that he was comfortable in my sisters arms, in heaven.

At 37 weeks and 6 days, I started having contractions seven minutes apart. Laying in bed, I would check my phone with each pain; 3:07, 3:14, 3:21. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, I was being woken up by my alarm. As I was getting ready for work, my husband urged me to stay home and call the doctor. Wanting to save my sick time, I went in to teach. During my planning period, I called my OB to tell him I had contractions through the night. He responded, “get to labor and delivery”. I drove home, snuggled with Mill on the couch, and waited for my baby daddy to come home. My husband packed the car, we kissed Millie goodbye, and this time, we didn’t stop for a cherry turnover.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were sent into triage where a nurse took my temperature, blood pressure, checked my lungs and pulse, and she gave me a sani-wipe and cup to collect my urine. As I sat down on the toilet, I opened the wipe and simultaneously, it jumped out of my hands! The wet wipe flew through the air, nearly six feet, before hitting the tile floor! Reactively, I screamed and then I couldn’t stop laughing! My husband and the nurse thought I was crazy but it kept the atmosphere light; labor terrified me after my experience with Mill.

My vitals were normal except my blood pressure, 118 over 96. The nurse explained that the reading was a mistake; the bottom number “didn’t match” the top number. She checked it again; 135 over 95. She seemed concerned that the readings were slightly elevated so she was going to consult the resident doctor on duty. Of course I was stressing thinking that the pre-e had returned but there were no traces of protein in my urine, so that kept me sane. Waiting for my blood pressure to go down, I ate a bag of mini pretzels, watched an episode of Friends (ironically, it was the episode where Rachel and Ross are at the gynecologist), texted my parents, and peed again. The nurse returned, checked my BP, and it was even higher than before! Over and over again, the cuff would squeeze my arm, release the pressure, and I would dauntingly peek at the numbers on the monitor; my blood pressure remained high. The resident doctor, who looked younger than me, asked about my birth plan. I explained to her that if the preeclampsia had returned, I wanted a c-section, which had been discussed numerous times with my OB. She began explaining to me why she would not give me a c-section, even if the pre-e had returned. I stopped her and said, “I know that I am able to elect for a cesarean birth.” I was no longer interested in speaking to this resident. My blood pressure reading was highest after that conversation.

My OB was in the hospital giving a tour to a newly hired doctor in the practice, so he stopped by my room to discuss my, “options”. He told me that he was admitting me for gestational hypertension. He explained that my history with pre-e made him too concerned to send me home with an elevated blood pressure. The doctor informed us that there were risks to induction, especially premature lung development, particularly in boys. A day before Millie was born, a steroid shot was administered into my leg to better develop her lungs. Unfortunately, there is no evidence shows the steroid being effective after 34 weeks of pregnancy, so the shot was not an option this time around. There is a fine line between gestational hypertension and pre-eclampsia and my doctor thought the induction outweighed the risks, given my history. Gestational hypertension is a form of high blood pressure and it occurs in about 6 percent of all pregnancies. Delivery heals the mother from the hypertension.

I was being induced for a vaginal birth, with a c-section as plan B if my blood pressure continued to rise. The doctor promised me that this delivery would be different than my first and that I was being closely monitored. I signed some papers, shoved my underwear into my purse, and tightly held my husbands hand as we left triage. I was full term. This baby spent weeks longer in utero compared to Millie. I’ve done this before; affirmations I told myself walking to labor and delivery.

We started the induction at 4pm with a twelve hour dose of cervadil; a vaginal insert that ripens the cervix. Like a tampon, the medicine is attached to a string. Unlike a tampon, it is placed super far up the vaginal canal (I swear, the nurse was elbow deep). The first four hours on the cervadil were a breeze – mild cramping. My grandma brought Millie to see us before her bedtime. This was the first night that I wasn’t sleeping under the same roof as her. It broke my heart when she didn’t want anything to do with me. She was scared of the machines and my IV.

I was uncomfortable during the next four hours as the contractions grew stronger and closer together. Around 3am, I wanted the epidural but I was only 3cm dilated. The resident OB wanted to wait on ordering the epidural until I dilated further so he offered to give me pain meds through my IV to take off the edge. I urged both him, and the nurse to consult with my doctor because we had discussed this exact situation after my traumatic experience with Millie. I had dilated so quickly with her that I was unable to get the epidural and I did not want that to happen again. Thankfully, they consulted my doctor who approved the epidural.

I gave birth to Millie without an epidural and I was not about to do that again. Although, I was scared that the epidural would hurt, that I would move during insertion and become paralyzed, that it wouldn’t take, or that the baby’s heart rate would drop, I was terrified of another natural labor. I was overwhelmed with the pain from the contractions so I pulled up a video of Millie on my phone, to focus my energy on her pure joy. As I watched, tears rolled down my cheeks; partially due to the pain I was experiencing but also because of my love for her. I was assured that the anesthesiologist was the best they had. He was an older man who talked me through everything he was doing. My husband was asked to wear a mask and a hair cap while the procedure took place. He held my hands as I sat up straight, at the edge of the bed. The medicine felt like a bead of cold water rushing down my spine. I do not remember any pain during insertion. Slowly, my legs started feeling heavy and I knew the epidural had worked.

Pitocin was administered and for the next two hours, 4:30-6:30am, I experienced some mild cramping. The epidural provided great relief to the clinching pain of the earlier contractions. My grandma had joined us in the birthing room. Her presence was calming as she rubbed my legs. My birth photographer, Sarah Shambaugh, arrived and began taking pictures of the process. Around 6:30, it felt like I needed to poop; nothing hurt, I just felt a sense of urgency. I remembered feeling that way before Millie was born and I knew it was time to push. The nurse examined me and sure enough, I was fully effaced and 9.5cm dilated. The nurse called my doctor, who was twelve minutes away. Longest twelve minutes of my life.

I was instructed not to push until my OB arrived. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks in response to the discomfort I was enduring. I told my husband that I didn’t care to wait for my doctor any longer, as long as someone would catch my baby, I needed to start pushing. My bed was raised, nurses helped lift my legs into the stirrups, and a resident doctor began dressing to do the job. In that same moment, my doctor entered the room and prepared for the delivery. I breathed a sigh of relief while grimacing through a contraction.

Pushing was difficult because I couldn’t exactly feel what I was supposed to be doing due to the epidural. I was anxious to push and didn’t like the wait time between contractions. I forced all of my energy down and with every push, the baby moved further through the canal. My doctor was so supportive; using words of encouragement and massaging the tissue so I wouldn’t tear. My father snuck into the room and held up a “little brother” onesie as a means of encouragement. The thought was endearing but I also didn’t want my dad to see my vagina. My husband helped lift my head up towards my chest and my grandma pulled my legs back while I pushed. I could not understand why this labor was taking so long – comparatively to my three push labor with Millie. My OB used his hands to turn the baby’s head in a more opportune position. Impatient, I decided that I didn’t want to wait for the next contraction to start pushing again and that is when the baby progressed enough that my doctor could see the hair on his head. My husband looked – gross. My doctor predicted that the next push would do it; I would meet my son.

Clinched teeth, chin to chest, toes curled; all of the tension released when Wells was born. It is absolutely amazing how exhaustion and pain evaporate away the moment of birth. A wiggly, slime-covered, baby boy was placed on my chest and my entire being began taking him in; he was heavy, he was pink, he had hair, and he was crying. My husband cut the umbilical cord as nurses suctioned fluid from his mouth. We stayed skin-on-skin while my family met him. When it was time to feed him, he latched quickly and correctly, which made nursing simple. While he was on my breast, I felt the bottom of his little feet; so soft.

My sweet, perfect boy. Life may be unpredictable, but my love for you will forever be constant. Welcome to the world, Wells.