Dear Noah - The Hospital

Dear Noah,

I know you're going to be alright.

In all of my heart of hearts I KNOW it. Yet, I can't help but cry for you. I can't help it because I AM YOUR Mommy and that's what Mommies do.

I'm lying here, beyond exhausted, listening to you breathe and watching - like an OCD hawk - your monitor that flashes all your vitals (which are excellent). I watch them, because, well, again, that's what Mommies do.

Today I've learned so many things about you my son, and so many things about myself.

From you, I've learned that you don't need to be an adult to be brave or be positive. You have been the bravest, happiest soul, while you've been poked, prodded, touched, moved, and badgered by all the adults around you who've demanded you take this medicine, hold still for this throat swab, that thermometer, this blood work, that monitor. You've maintained a smile and a genuine sweetness through most of it that many your age and years older don't possess. Everyone you met today has fallen in love with you, with your joyous spirit even though you're unwell. They all marvel at your talkative nature, at your chatter about cars and Curious George. When dinner arrived tonight you said to the nurse, "I'm hungry." And she laughed and handed you your food and you said, "Kin-ooo" (your sweet version of "thank you").

From myself, I've learned that I am a Mommy. I know that may sound silly, since I've been one for nearly three years now, but maybe more accurately, I've learned what it IS to BE a Mommy. I've learned that you and your brother are my number one priority, that you matter most and that if I EVER lost either of you, I too would completely and utterly lost.

Again, I KNOW that you'll be alright, but the thought sped across my mind that you may not be and that nearly crippled me.

When the doctor came in, with concerned blue eyes, and a kind smile, saying, "Oh buddy, you're having trouble breathing, aren't you?" The magnitude of the situation struck me, nearly knocked me over and I struggled not to fall apart in front of you - since I was supposed to be the strong one FOR you.

And when you caught my tears, even with your own battle to fight, you looked at me with those stunning brown eyes and said, "You okay, Mommy? Mommy's okay? Mommy's happy?"

I smiled through my tears and hugged you and lied, "Yep, Mommy's okay. Mommy's happy."

And here it sit, at some ungodly hour, running on less than 8 hours of sleep in two days, watching, listening, being at the ready - for what, I don't know - but even in this hospital, I feel as if I can take better care of you, watch over you more closely than any of these trained professionals.

Sleep well my beautiful son, get well, knowing that I'm right here, and in some way, I always will be.

Love,

Mama

xoxo

Dear Sebastian - Week 14

Dear Sebastian,

You are a little more than 3.5 months old (14 weeks to be exact).

You are now the most smiley and chatty of boys - yay! You coo and "talk" and speak gibberish and have the MOST EXPRESSIVE (barely-there) eyebrows I have ever seen. Even when you're just smiling at me, you'll raise an eyebrow or raise them both - as if to say, oh yeah, I'm on to you woman - and it CRACKS me right up!

Things guaranteed to make you laugh include clapping your fisted hands together and singing or saying, "Yay, Sebastian!" And tickling you - you are already SUPER ticklish under your armpits!

You're already a little go-er. A squirmy little Mitts who somehow manages to move all over the place on your back. You raise your bum off the floor and shuffle yourself backwards and rock from one foot to the other so quickly I'm sure the momentum is going to roll you over one of these days.

We've started you on some food. For the last few weeks you've been GAWKING at Daddy or I while we're eating - you have this endless fascination for food so I thought, what the heck - yes it's early, but hey, I've done this before.

You weren't crazy about the homemade brown rice cereal mixed with formula, but man oh man you LOVED dem organic apples. You smiled and cooed and actually ate most of it, shoving your fists in there along with the food making a real good mess.

You sleeping skills are still crap. Yes, crap. I love you son, my dearest, but you are trying to kill me. Your napping through the day is amazing some days and pretty much non-existent others. Your nighttime sleeping is much the same - you actually slept for 9.5 hours once (ONLY ONCE), but just to keep things interesting you've decided, pfft, screw that, I'm going to get up whenever - every two hours, maybe three, four(?), five(?). Just to screw with me nothing with you is. ever. the. same.

You must sense that I CRAVE stability, predictability, routine (in most instances - especially when sleep is involved) so you've decided to teach me(?) that sleep and routine isn't all that important(?).

You are the most amazing sun-shiney boy who is getting more and more attention from his big brother, which warms my heart.

Noah LOVES to get smiles from you and thinks you're always talking just to him. Which, generally you are. You seem to already adore him, as he does you. Your eyes follow him wherever he's bounding off too. You've gotten used to his loud voice, his accidental boots to your head, his rough kisses and non-too-gentle rocking motions of your chair.

Looks like I've got to cut this letter short, you're up after just 45 minutes...dear God...

Love,

Mama

xoxox

Dear Noah - Independent You

Dear Noah,

You don't need me anymore.

You are a little more than two-and-a-half-years-old and you have already broken my heart. I wasn't expecting to be so disposable, so soon.

You are supremely independent; the phrase of the last few months is: "No Mommy, no, I do all. my. self."

Yes sweetheart, you do do most everything all yourself. You feed yourself, get yourself dressed, get up into your chair, go to the potty, clean your hands, face...the list is endless.

Not only do you not need me anymore, but there are times as if I feel as if you'd live a contented life if I wasn't around.

One night I asked your Daddy if boys REALLY do need their Moms. If Moms are REALLY that important since Daddies really seem to rule their world and Moms are just, well, the ones that demand hand-washing, manners, picking up after yourself, rules, rules, rules.

Your Daddy laughed at me, of course, and assured me that boys DO need their Moms - for what, I'm not exactly sure - other than to nurture (which you rarely want or need unless you're hurt), to be your soft place (you ALLOW me the privilege to hug you when you feel like it), and to be your womanly influence ("Mommy has gina.").

This Mommy is looking for where she fits in your world since playing cars (gag) and playing cars (OMG) and playing more cars (puh-lease!) is all you want to do these days - even though I encourage other activities like colouring (YES), Playdough (woot!) and arts and crafts (awesome!).

Although I marvel at your brilliance - you know your ABCs, can count to 15, have almost mastered the elusive potty and a HOST of other talents - I miss that toddler who called me his favourite, who wanted more from me than a cup of juice or to play (DREADED) cars.

And I want to say that all of this was to be expected, I fully expected and knew the day would come when you wouldn't want or need me very much anymore, but I didn't know it would make me so sad. I didn't know watching you grow from a newborn, to an infant, to a toddler, to now a boy would crush me so.

You are a wondrous little man, Noah. I am proud of the boy you're turning into - the kind boy who has a shy streak, but is also heart-warmingly outgoing and friendly to strangers saying, "Hello!"

Just do Mommy a favour, when you read this, when you're all big and grown, that you'll gimmie a few more hugs and kisses now and then...I'll probably miss them as much then as I do now.

Love,

Mama

xox

Dear Sebastian - Week 2

Dear Sebastian,

Eight weeks have past since you came into our lives and as the time goes by, you're reminding me on a daily basis that you are your own person - more accurately, nothing like your big brother.

Okay, not entirely true, you are similar in demeanor in some ways, but completely different in others.

When you were first born, you loved to be snuggled, loved to sleep on my chest - heck, anyone's chest - and while this is still true to some extent, you have very particular ways about how and where you will and will not sleep - and it cracks me up.

(Most times) you demand to be swaddled in your Woombie (God's greatest gift I'm certain), now whether there's another blanket wrapped around you or just draped over you, it doesn't really matter. But after the swaddle you also want to eat - even if you've just eaten, you'd like a little more (again, most times) - enough to fall asleep. Now WHERE you are put to sleep after that is all about your preference that day - most of the time it's in your own darkened room, but as of late (oddly enough) it's on the couch amongst the chaos and noise of our house.

I swear, once I think I've learned YOUR rules, you change them on me just for fun(?) for spite(?) to keep me on my toes(?)...you are SUCH a Midder...which is your nickname by the way - it started our as Mister-Mister in the hospital, that turned into Midder and can now be shortened to The Mitts or Mitts - don't ask me, it's just the way I roll.

You are the most serious of babies my dear Sebastian. I've heard of babies like you, the ones that eye everyone knowingly, as if they are far beyond our baby talk, as if they'd much rather we discuss the laws of the universe and politics than pester them with our sing-song voices - that is YOU. Your smiles are rare (but are becoming more and more frequent) and when you do grace us with one of those gummy grins - it usually has nothing to do with what we're doing or saying - you just smile when you feel like it. And can I say, since my baby experience is quite limited, I find your stingy delivery of smiles unsettling. I don't know when your happy, only to guess you must be if you're not crying. But then again, you've begun to chatter - you've begun to coo and gurgle and within those coos are half-smiles and amused eyes that keep me going and telling myself that I MUST be doing SOMETHING right.

Now that you've been here for two months, you and your brother are becoming more acquainted - he's no longer just tolerating you, he actually has begun to LOVE you.

When you're out of his sight, Noah often says, "Where's baby brother?" Or if you cry, he says, "Baby brother okay." And he's even started to call you by your name - lol - something we'd worry he'd NEVER do. You are his Baby Basa...he is protective of you, rocking your chair if you cry and so loving - kissing your fuzzy head goodnight.

He forgets to be gentle sometimes, but his intentions are kind. I hope the trend continues - it'll probably stall when you start crawling and "stealing" is precious cars.

Love,

Mama

xoxo

Dear Noah - New Big Brother

Dear Noah,

Well, well...I'm not sure where to begin, my wee boy. This has been quite the experience these last two weeks. And I wish I had more positive things to say, but damn child, you are not taking the adjustment period to your new brother very well. Now don't get me wrong, everyone says your behaviour is completely normal - typical in fact, but it is in no way pleasant for anyone.

I myself am at a loss of what to do. Your Dad on the other hand - bless him - has the patience of a Saint for your constant whining, tantrums, outright disobedience, and general unpleasant behaviour.

On more than one occasion I've had to remind myself that you are only 2, you don't have the vocabulary to tell us you're probably scared that your little brother is going to take your mommy and daddy away; that we'll love him more and you less...and that you might just be generally pissed that you have to share the spotlight with someone else. But above all, I have to remind myself not to take your lashing out as a personal attack on me, my parenting and the decision we made to bring a new person into our family.

Aside from this major bump in our and your world, you've been a very sweet and caring brother when you've wanted to be. I understand that as of now, your brother is pretty boring - he doesn't do much, or interact with you other than looking at you. But on your own, I've seen you go over and kiss him on the head or rub his fuzzy hair or even just look at him and it warms me to know that there's some sort of a relationship starting there; one that I hope in time will grow.

Even though by the time you'll read this, you'll likely be a man, and all this will be behind us, I still want you to know, what I've always told you over and over - that you're Mommy and Daddy's favourite Noah of all. No one will ever, in a million years replace you - we love you just the same as we did before your brother came along - maybe even MORE because now we have double the love to go around.

You were the first one, the one that MADE me a Mommy, taught me to love unconditionally and that's pretty darn special - just like you are to us.

Love you to the moon and back.

Love,

Mommy

xooxxo

Dear Sebastian - Week 1

Dear Sebastian,

Welcome to the world my sweet boy.

You're one, whole, giant, big week old.

It's been a whirlwind since you came along last Friday morning at 9:19 a.m. and there's so many things I want to tell you about these last seven days, but mostly, I wanted to tell you how blissfully different this has been for us all.

Unfortunately first-time motherhood was hard for me and was compounded by PPD, but after receiving therapy, it was smooth sailing for your brother and I, but I always felt as if I had missed out on and wasn't present for the first weeks of his life.

This time around, there was...nothing. Nothing but LOVE. An INSTANT, intense, warm, all-consuming LOVE for you that I didn't have right away the first time.

It was, it IS still strange. It's strange to love you as completely and simply as I do.

And the funny thing is, that love for you has expanded and flowed over onto your brother and your Daddy.

Although I knew that things were better, I knew that the therapy kicked PPD's derrière, I got to feel, see, hear just how awesome motherhood is "supposed to be" (for me).

It's as if I'm really, SEEING what I didn't and couldn't before and what a sight it is.

I have taken every opportunity I can to HOLD you and kiss your sweet face, hands, feet, neck. I RELISH in sleeping with you on my chest and you squeaks, squawks and kitten-like cries. I've made up a song for you - a silly ditty - that I sing often about how I love your "big blue eyes, and your pretty mouth..." and your early nicknames are Marvin (as in Starvin' Marvin) and Mr. Wiggles.

I'm enjoying every part of this journey, that hasn't been bogged down with fear, doubt or depression and I've actually cried on more than one occasion because I'm just so happy.

That's not to say it's been perfect, we are, after all we are integrating a new little person into our family and it's a lot of work!

I've worried how your brother, who's had 100% of Mommy and Daddy's attention would deal with someone else who needs attention too, but thus far he's done so well and loves you in his own two-and-a-half year old way.

So welcome to our noisy, laughter-filled, crazy home. You've made our family complete and given me the opportunity to really FEEL what motherhood can and should be, thank you.

Love,

Mama

xoxox

Dear Baby #2 - 37 Weeks

Dear Baby Mac,

I have so many things I want to say to you, but forgive me baby, it's like writing to an anonymous pen pal who's been living in my house, but our only form of communication over the last 37 weeks has been pokes, nudges and kicks.

I feel like I KNOW you, yet I don't. I've seen you, but haven't really SEEN you - other than those grainy, black and white images of your various body parts where I'm forced to use my imagination. I've heard you, you're tiny, strong heart, but, of course, I haven't really HEARD you. It's a lot of mind games and trickery, but for you - you probably know me better than I know you.

You know my voice, your Daddy's and brother's voice, my heartbeat - you probably sense how I'm feeling, what I'm thinking...strange really, if I think about it...

You're nearly cooked, nearly ready to make your grand entrance on February 28 (maybe?!) - but it could be any day, really. Up until then, it's your decision when you'd like to come out into the world - I've told you that more than once. My bags are packed baby, so you just say the word and you can blow my uterus and we'll welcome you with open (cuddly) arms.

And cuddle you I will - and thank GOODNESS I'm your Mommy, because that means I get dibs on you.

When people used to hold your brother for too long (in my opinion) I used to say, "Um, can I have my baby back?" Sharing you is something I don’t necessarily have to do...all the time anyway.

As I've said before, I suspect (unless someone else has other plans) that you'll be my last baby so I've done my best to enjoy this experience; and believe me, it hasn't been without its pains - literally and figuratively, but obviously, worth every second.

I know being the little brother will, at times, be challenging for you – as it is for any younger sibling. You’ll want to probably grow up faster, just so you can do things like your big brother. You’ll want to emulate him, copy everything he does, have what he has and he may, at times, not be too keen on that I’m afraid. But you too are your own little person and I hope that you can always love who you are.

And although this time around I'm prepared - there's less terror and more excitement - I know what to expect for the most part, I still am a little scared. I’m scared that I will treat the two of you differently in a negative way…that you or your brother will grow up saying, “You loved him MORE than ME! He was your FAVOURITE!”

Don't get me wrong, I WANT to treat you differently – because you are different people – but in ways that help you both grow at your own speed and on your own paths.

Using my womanly influences, I hope to raise you both to be strong, confident, level-headed men; who have a sensitive side (chicks dig that), can cook a GOOD meal (Kraft Dinner doesn’t count), do laundry and remember to be chivalrous.

And above all, I hope your Daddy and I raise two healthy, happy, happy, happy boys that know no matter what, our arms are the safest place on earth. Just like your GG used to say to me all the time, “There is NOTHING on earth that you could EVER do that could make me stop loving you.”

Yes, at times I may be disappointed, embarrassed or even angry, but our love is always, ALWAYS there for both of you – we will love you no matter what.

We’ll see you in a few weeks Sweetpea.

Love,

Mama

xoxoxo