It was a Merry Christmas Morning!

This is how Caleb spent basically ALL of last Christmas:

But with a little bit of this:
And a little bit of this: (getting gifted in his sleep)

But let me tell you, Christmas 2010 was SO MUCH BETTER!

Caleb met Santa:
He explored Grandma and Grandpa's impressive tree:
And our not-as-impressive-but-equally-magical-and-special tree:
Played with Dada:
Played with Bullseye:
And his mini soccer ball:
Met his little cousin, Seth, and had a little chat with him:


Played with Grandpa's IPad:


Wouldn't let go of his mini soccer ball, not even to inspect his AWESOME new John Deere blanket:


Played with his moving ball:


Played with a new favorite:


Discovered something new and exciting while exploring at Grandma and Grandpa's:



I was very impressed that Caleb enjoyed his presents more than the wrapping paper and boxes. In all, it was a wonderful, busy (what day isn't) day. Probably the best Christmas ever.

Three Years (and one day) Ago

In three years, Nate and I have:

• lived in four places
  
• owned four vehicles (five including our horse trailer)
  
• graduated college
  
• had a combination of seven jobs (not including parenthood)
• had seven pets (three fish, one crab, one dog, and two horses)
• uncovered our true weaknesses, revealed our real strengths, and discovered our incredible ability to love
• made countless mistakes
• made a lot of tough decisions
• come out on top

And we look forward to many more years of money earned, money spent, cars, homes, pets, jobs, decisions, mistakes, children, and love beyond measure.
I love you, my Dear, and I look forward to spending the rest of forever with you!

Sharing

My boy is so sweet. He thinks about his momma and his doggy before he thinks about himself. (And he thinks it's funny when he feeds me. I love it.)

I think I can...I think I can...I think I can...I think I can....

Today Caleb took only 9 ounces from the bottle. That is clearly not enough (see here). It's not even close to enough. I tried giving him a few ounces of soy formula yesterday and a bit more today. Hopefully that's the problem, and once we get rid of the soy he'll be back to taking his usual 12-16 ounces a day. But that's still not enough.

I held him swaddled in my arms struggling for a good 45 minutes (not out of the ordinary), trying to get him to eat. (The trick is giving him something soft to hold. He can't resist sucking his thumb every time he touches something soft, and I can usually swap out his thumb for the bottle.) But he cried the whole time. With no tears. He's dehydrated.

So, since he absolutely refuses to take a sippy cup, I gave him juice in a bottle. I know, it's wrong. But I'd rather have his teeth rot out than have him die of dehydration. Even though neither of those will happen. But still, he only took about an ounce of the juice.

I made an appointment last week with the pediatric GI specialist to get to the bottom of this, but the soonest we could get in is February tenth. I don't know if I can make it until then. At least he eats a ton of solids (2.5 stage two jars of baby food, and 1/2 a cup of oatmeal).

And although he's basically stopped eating finger foods other than graham crackers and saltines, he was happy eating his cheerios today:
P.S.--I am now recording everything he eats and how every feeding goes. I need evidence so the GI specialist has something to go off of, especially since he has baffled everyone else.

Diving...of sorts.

You've heard of "Dumpster Diving." Ever heard of "Laundry Basket Diving?" It's like Dumpster Diving, only cleaner, and baby-style!

1) Laundry baskets make somewhat effective barriers.
2) Hangers make very fun (and potentially dangerous) toys.
3) My son never stops entertaining me.

Ummm...

I think a beaver sleeps in my son's bed.

PS--He is now very good at pulling himself up on his knees. The above took place the very night that he learned this new trick. We have since lowered his crib mattress.

The world needs more people like this.

I met an amazing couple while Caleb was in the NICU. I don't know their last name. I doubt I'll ever see them again. But I think about them a lot. They are some of the most amazing people I've ever met.

The mom's name is Camille, and the baby's name was Chloe. Camille was Chloe's biological aunt. Chloe's birth mom (Camille's sister-in-law) realized when she got pregnant that she wasn't ready to be a mom, and Camille and her husband had been trying for nine years to have a baby, so the birth mom offered for them to adopt Chloe. Of course, they were ecstatic.

Then, at the 20-week ultrasound, they found that Chloe's legs weren't developing. She would never be able to walk. Camille and her husband talked about whether or not they still wanted to adopt her. Obviously, it's hard to walk straight into a trial like that. But they were angels and recognized that she was already their baby, and that the inability to walk didn't change anything. They already loved her, and there was no going back.

Then she was born three weeks early, but her lungs were very, very underdeveloped. She was admitted to the NICU. After a few days it was very apparent that there was more wrong with Chloe's little body than just her underdeveloped lungs and her undeveloped legs. She was retaining fluid--swelling up terribly, and not urinating.

It was the same rare, undiagnosed problem as Chloe's other biological aunt who only lived for a few hours after birth.

Camille and her husband were told that Chloe's chance of living was looking dim.

They just wanted the adoption to be finalized. They wanted to look at their daughter and know that she was theirs, that they were parents, as they always wanted to be. They hoped and prayed that she would hold on until she was one week old, when the adoption was set to be finalized in court. Since her condition was so unstable, they didn't dare make the 45-minute drive home at night. They slept on the floor of the Parent's Lounge every night. They ate in the cafeteria. I don't know where they showered.

After another day or two they learned that Chloe was deaf and blind. They were told that she would likely never be able to breathe on her own.

They could have walked away at that point. Chloe's birth mom was considering not signing the adoption papers anyway. But that would have broken their hearts. They loved that baby. They wanted her and needed her.

It was a rough week for Camille and her family. There were lots of ups and downs; some days it looked almost as if Chloe was going to be alright. That made their decision even harder.

The day of the adoption came, and Chloe was made theirs. Their dream came true, and they had a daughter. I saw them that day, and I'm sure I can safely say that it was the best day of their lives.

But the next day, I think it was, they did the hardest thing that anyone could ever do. They had to let their baby girl die. I didn't see them that day, and honestly, I'm glad. I don't think I could have handled it. I imagine that they had their family with them, and Camille sat in a rocking chair and held her baby for the first time, soaking in all of the love, the looks, the memories, the good...and then she let her die peacefully.

They were left alone, just the two of them, as they were when they had started their journey to parenthood. Only, they were left with hefty medical bills. They were left with more pain in their hearts than most people could fathom. But they were left with the knowledge that they were parents--that they had a daughter named Chloe who was more loved than most children in the world. That although she only lived for a week, she would be theirs forever, and no one could take away the title of "Mom" and "Dad."

They are true heroes. They knew what they were getting into by the time the adoption was finalized. Every good parent sacrifices for their children, but Camille and her husband put everything on the line. They will always have an ache in their hearts, but they will always have part of Chloe in their hearts, too, that will make the ache worthwhile.

Camille, if you ever read this, I hope you know that I admire you more than most. I hope to be as loving and giving of a mom as you. I will never forget you or Chloe. I will always remember you as a hero.