A Letter to My Baby

Easton,

Before I had you, I was already a busy mom of three young children. I, like most overworked mommies, was getting pretty good at complaining about the everyday "annoyances" and frustrations that plague every young mother. Then I became pregnant. Your Dad and I were immediately thinking about the expansion of our family. Would our house be big enough? Would we be able to handle four small children? We began to get very excited at the prospect of expanding our family. And then, eleven weeks later I miscarried. It was one of the hardest things we had ever faced. Bad things didn't happen to us. We were still naive enough to believe that we were somehow exempt from experiencing the unthinkable. It was a long and grueling process but we leaned on each other until the hurt became more bearable.

A year and a half later, we were setting up for your brother Logan's 6th birthday party and I didn't feel very good. I went to the doctor for some medicine and was totally shocked when the doctor said, "We have some other results from the tests that we ran. You are pregnant." Although the initial response was that joy of being a mother, I immediately put up my defenses because I couldn't bear the thought of enduring that kind of pain again. It took a lot of convincing by the doctors, but I was finally able to give myself permission to hope. Your pregnancy was very different from the others, simply because now I had experienced the pain of loss. I did everything I could to ensure your safe arrival. I still believed that I could control such things. I was diagnosed as a gestational diabetic and that meant giving up my normal diet, but that seemed such a small price to pay, considering it would mean bringing you safely to my arms.

You were born on May 25, 2010, at 8:32 a.m. You weighed 7 pounds 14 oz., and you were 20 inches long. My smallest baby by far, but no less beautiful and no less perfect.  At first we thought you looked just like Daddy, but as you grow you resemble Mommy and Morgan.  We've had our ups and downs with illness.  You had several ear infections and some issues with possible asthma.  At the time we thought we were really dealing with something difficult.  We had our share of "sleepless" nights and moments of frustration.  But, we also love every minute we get to spend with you.

You are such a silly baby.  You can be content for long periods of time simply playing by yourself, but when you decided that you want Mommy your patience becomes quite thin.  You scrunch up your face and sort of whine when I pass until I pick you up.  You LOVE ice cream, and you become very angry when someone has it and doesn't share with you.  You love to watch Curious Buddies and Brainy Baby.  In fact, if we happen to get in your way, you will maneuver yourself around us until you can see it again.

You have taught me so much as a mother.  I always knew that I loved my children with a passion that I could never express, but now that love has been tested and I've seen a glimpse of just how far it goes.  During your hospital stay I have laughed and cried, smiled and screamed.  I have BEGGED and PLEADED with anyone who will listen, asking them to tell me how to take your place.  I want to crawl into that bed and take over your suffering just so that you can get up and play peek-a-boo with Daddy.  I want your brother and sisters to be annoyed when you crawl over and mess up their game.  I want you to get dirty and get into trouble.  I want you to learn.  I want you to find love.  I want you to LIVE.  I don't know why they won't let me trade places with you.  It's ok if I never get to leave this hospital as long as you live the life you deserve.

It's terrifying to love someone this much.  It hurts so badly sometimes that I can't breathe.  But then there are those moments when no one else is in the room, and I turn on some music and hold you against my chest.  I sing to you and you look up at me.  I swear in that moment that I can see my little boy.  You're in there somewhere, and I promise you that I will be here when you come back.  I will endure the heartache and the setbacks just so that I can see that tiniest step forward.   You have a strength that defies logic, and you are teaching me everyday.  I am your Mommy, and I will be here every step of the way.