And Then There Were Five
On 4/23/14 at 4:23 PM Walter Andrew joined our tribe, and we are quite delighted to have him. The night we learned I was pregnant - literally minutes before we learned - Joe prayed to God letting go of his dream for another biological child. One of life's funny little moments. We learned at our six week ultrasound that there had been an identical twin who hadn't developed. I remember feeling equally grateful and sad. One of the screening tests came back with a high probability that Walter had Down Syndrome, but after ten tense, sad days a more accurate test ruled it highly improbable. Pregnancy after miscarriage was really difficult. Even after he was born it took me a day or two to feel like he was ours to take home. But I'm so glad he's here and that we've gotten to hold him and squish him and pet him. I'm not sure if it's the losses in between or maturing as a mother and a person, but I have more reserves for the sleepless nights and growing pains than I had with my first two babies.
The little guy is pretty precious. I know that all loving parents think their babies are precious, and I'm sure that they really, truly believe that - but Walter is the most precious baby in the world. His cheeks are so kissable, and he's quick to smile and laugh. He longs to be in the mix of whatever we are doing. When he's well rested he can take on the world. He loves water and dives for it anywhere he sees it. He's eight months old now - babbling, cruising, and even practicing standing unsupported! My favorite is to watch Coco and Art with him. They all adore each other and make me feel like I'm living in a 50's sitcom. In our conversations leading up to Walt's entry into this world we talked about how there would be tough times and how we needed to remind one another that it wouldn't always be that way. And Coco often does remind me at crucial moments! But it seems like those hard times are few and far between.
Coco is six, and I delight in her! Daily she makes me laugh and surprises me with her maturity and her desire to do what is good and right. Last year around this time she had just finished working through Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, which we ironically found stressful and challenging. Part of her personality is that she has this nearly paralyzing desire to never fail, which means she can be astonishingly reluctant to try new things. So we finished the curriculum, and I continued to work with her here and there. But I can distinctly remember the first time she voluntarily read something on her own. We were in the grocery store parking lot when she pointed up and said, "Mom, that says 'liquor'." I said, "If you can read the word liquor, then you can read pretty much anything you like." She began reading everything we owned, and a few months ago when she asked for something creepy we gave her Harry Potter. Her brain has just run off with the joy of reading, and I love it! But don't ask her what 8+5 is. She'll growl at you and tell you it's not math lesson time.
Art is four, and he's a little imp. I remember how independent he was as an infant. Once when he was about eight months old, I set him down on a beach to see what he would do. He began rapidly crawling away and never looked back. After thirty feet I ran to catch him, and he hasn't changed much in that regard. He often wakes up and begins his morning without us. We'll discover him sitting at the table, drinking a cup of water and watching the cat eat the food he gave her. The flip side is that he's quick to help himself to candy without asking or to try to clean up a gigantic mess without consulting us. He's had the benefit of listening to Coco's lessons, and now he's working through TYCR. He boldly jumps in and isn't afraid to make mistakes reading. He quietly points out words that he knows in our daily life too. I think he'll love reading (how can he not in our family?), but I think his strongest gift appears to be body awareness. He's pretty good with his hands and his feet, and like his father he loves any activity that involves a ball.
I still remember the ones we lost. I wonder what it would be like to have had twins. Children born near the due dates of my miscarriages are living reminders of how old those babies would be if they had lived. But by the grace of God, I'm in a better space now than I was the last two years. Looking back I wonder if I was a little depressed. It felt like there was a moment after Walt was born when a flip switched somewhere. What had previously been completely unmanageable was now possible even though I had a newborn. I hope I never have another miscarriage (I hope that no one ever does), but if I do I hope that I can be more in touch with what's going on and seek help if I need it. I'm thankful for the love and support I found through God, through this randomly amazing Facebook miscarriage group and through my husband and local friends. By God's grace I never doubted his faithfulness or felt far from his presence. There were moments when all I could hold on to were God's promises.
Here is what I am commanding you to do. Be strong and brave. Do not be afraid. Do not lose hope. I am the Lord your God. I will be with you everywhere you go.” (Joshua 1:9)
The little guy is pretty precious. I know that all loving parents think their babies are precious, and I'm sure that they really, truly believe that - but Walter is the most precious baby in the world. His cheeks are so kissable, and he's quick to smile and laugh. He longs to be in the mix of whatever we are doing. When he's well rested he can take on the world. He loves water and dives for it anywhere he sees it. He's eight months old now - babbling, cruising, and even practicing standing unsupported! My favorite is to watch Coco and Art with him. They all adore each other and make me feel like I'm living in a 50's sitcom. In our conversations leading up to Walt's entry into this world we talked about how there would be tough times and how we needed to remind one another that it wouldn't always be that way. And Coco often does remind me at crucial moments! But it seems like those hard times are few and far between.
Coco is six, and I delight in her! Daily she makes me laugh and surprises me with her maturity and her desire to do what is good and right. Last year around this time she had just finished working through Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, which we ironically found stressful and challenging. Part of her personality is that she has this nearly paralyzing desire to never fail, which means she can be astonishingly reluctant to try new things. So we finished the curriculum, and I continued to work with her here and there. But I can distinctly remember the first time she voluntarily read something on her own. We were in the grocery store parking lot when she pointed up and said, "Mom, that says 'liquor'." I said, "If you can read the word liquor, then you can read pretty much anything you like." She began reading everything we owned, and a few months ago when she asked for something creepy we gave her Harry Potter. Her brain has just run off with the joy of reading, and I love it! But don't ask her what 8+5 is. She'll growl at you and tell you it's not math lesson time.
Art is four, and he's a little imp. I remember how independent he was as an infant. Once when he was about eight months old, I set him down on a beach to see what he would do. He began rapidly crawling away and never looked back. After thirty feet I ran to catch him, and he hasn't changed much in that regard. He often wakes up and begins his morning without us. We'll discover him sitting at the table, drinking a cup of water and watching the cat eat the food he gave her. The flip side is that he's quick to help himself to candy without asking or to try to clean up a gigantic mess without consulting us. He's had the benefit of listening to Coco's lessons, and now he's working through TYCR. He boldly jumps in and isn't afraid to make mistakes reading. He quietly points out words that he knows in our daily life too. I think he'll love reading (how can he not in our family?), but I think his strongest gift appears to be body awareness. He's pretty good with his hands and his feet, and like his father he loves any activity that involves a ball.
I still remember the ones we lost. I wonder what it would be like to have had twins. Children born near the due dates of my miscarriages are living reminders of how old those babies would be if they had lived. But by the grace of God, I'm in a better space now than I was the last two years. Looking back I wonder if I was a little depressed. It felt like there was a moment after Walt was born when a flip switched somewhere. What had previously been completely unmanageable was now possible even though I had a newborn. I hope I never have another miscarriage (I hope that no one ever does), but if I do I hope that I can be more in touch with what's going on and seek help if I need it. I'm thankful for the love and support I found through God, through this randomly amazing Facebook miscarriage group and through my husband and local friends. By God's grace I never doubted his faithfulness or felt far from his presence. There were moments when all I could hold on to were God's promises.
Here is what I am commanding you to do. Be strong and brave. Do not be afraid. Do not lose hope. I am the Lord your God. I will be with you everywhere you go.” (Joshua 1:9)