I Have a Seven-Year-Old!

My oldest son turns seven today!

Since this picture was taken, he's lost his two front teeth!

He's gone from a tiny 6lb, 4oz baby (4 weeks early!) to a tall young man who excels in school and loves playing Xbox (as well as classic Nintendo) with his dad. He is sweet, caring, and says he loves God. (Future priest? Let's hope so!)

Happy birthday, William Joseph!

Little Ingrate

William requested carrot cake for his birthday cake. So, I found a recipe on Pinterest and baked one for him - from scratch. (The frosting was out of a can, though - I had some I wanted to use up.) His response?

"I like Golden Corral's carrot cake better."

I brought the rest of the cake to work on Wednesday. At least my coworkers enjoyed it. (Collin and I thought it was pretty good, too.) Next year I will just go the easy route and buy a cake, since he doesn't seem to appreciate my efforts to make one.

He did like The Avengers candles I put on it, at least.

Also, as an addendum to my last post, it turns out that the HD version of Frozen is available now, so Violet will get it for her birthday after all! Yay! And after Wednesday, birthday season will be over until October, when we will celebrate Peter's first birthday. Whew.

Happy Birthday, William!

Dear William, 

I can't believe it's been six years since your birth. I remember holding you in my arms several hours after you were born. It was the middle of the night, the lights were off, and your dad was snoozing on the couch in the hospital room. I couldn't sleep; I was still on a post-birth adrenaline high, and so enchanted with my new son.

I had secretly wanted a boy throughout my pregnancy but had convinced myself I was having a girl so I wouldn't be disappointed. When your dad announced, "It's a boy!" I couldn't believe that I was lucky enough to have a gorgeous daughter and now a beautiful son. You were our rainbow baby, conceived six months after we lost your brother or sister, Noel, to miscarriage. Your birth helped me heal.
 

You remain our smallest baby and our earliest baby. You were so tiny, all 6lbs 4oz of you, and once I realized my labor was "real" I was so scared you'd have to stay in the NICU since I was only 36 weeks along. But when the pediatrician came in to see you, he said, "He thinks he's full-term!" You were a champ at feeding and regulating your own temperature, so you got to come home with us two days later.

Today, you're a spunky six-year-old who loves Star Wars, Angry Birds, superheroes, T-ball, hunting, and going to school. 

You can read, work math problems, and you love playing games on the iPad (which you can work better than some adults!). You have a great sense of humor and keep us in stitches with your jokes and stories.

You're sweet and kind, and you have a compliment for everyone you meet. You're an awesome big brother to your younger siblings, and a great brother to your older sister, too. I'm so blessed to be your mom!

Vent of the Day

William had a well-child doctor's visit about two weeks ago and got up-to-date on his vaccinations.

Collin requested a copy of William's vaccination record so we could include it with his kindergarten paperwork. The lady at the office said she'd mail it to us.

Fast forward to yesterday, and we still hadn't received it. I called this morning and left a message with the doctor's assistant, asking when it had been mailed. I received a return call earlier this afternoon. The lady I spoke to said, "I hadn't actually mailed it yet, because I wasn't aware it was a priority, but it's in the mail now!"

I simply thanked her and hung up, but more because I was too shocked to say what I was really thinking. Which was, honestly, something along these lines: 

Getting my son's medical record is certainly a priority to me, regardless of the reason I need it! What on earth made her think this wasn't a priority, and why was that her decision to make? Exactly when was she planning to send it out -- a month? Two months? Half a year? When would it become a "priority"?

I'm pretty sure Collin mentioned, when he requested the record, that we needed it for William's kindergarten paperwork. Perhaps my son getting registered for kindergarten isn't a priority to her, but it certainly is to me.

I'm just... argh.

If I decided on my own that a customer's need for information was low priority, without actually consulting the customer, I'd probably get reprimanded or fired. Who does this?

At least ask my husband, "Is it okay if I send this out in a few weeks? We're pretty swamped right now." Because then he could have replied, "Could I just take a copy with me? We really want to get our son's kindergarten paperwork in as soon as possible."

And no, I don't know why they have to mail a copy instead of just getting one at the appointment.

Today at Mass

William: "Are we going up to the chameleon?"

Me: "...what are you talking about?"

William: "The chameleon. Is it happening today?"

Me: "Do you mean COMMUNION?"

William: "Yeah!"

St. Francis, patron of chameleons, pray for us...

For Sale, Cheap -- Or Maybe Not

The kids were watching The Small One today, and the following conversation ensued:

William: "Why does Small One have to be sold?"

Me: "Because he can't work enough to pay for his food anymore."

William: "Why can't he work?"

Me: "He's getting too old."

William: "Why is he getting old?"

Me: "All living things eventually get old except for Dick Clark."

William: "I'm not old."

Me: "No, right now you're a little boy, but someday you'll get old like Mommy."

*long pause*

William, with a slight hitch in his voice: "And then you'll have to sell me?"

(After working hard to smother laughter, I assured him that we weren't going to sell him, ever. Violet, maybe, but not him.)

Our son: future deacon?

A few nights ago, as we were getting the kids ready for bed, William picked up a rather large, hardbound book of fairy tales and held it high in front of him. "Look, I'm being Jesus!" he said, pacing back and forth.

It took a minute, but we realized he was mimicking the deacon at Mass, when he goes to read the Gospel. After we stopped laughing, we explained that the deacon was not Jesus, but rather he was proclaiming the WORD of Jesus.

Then we beamed in pride. God willing, we have a future deacon -- or priest -- in our midst!

A conversation with my son

[We're in the bathroom, because one of the cardinal laws of motherhood is that if you don't lock the door fast enough you'll have company while you pee. William is sitting on the edge of the tub.]

William: "Mommy, look, I'm Humpty Dumpty! I'm sitting on a wall!"

Me: "Oh my! Are you going to have a great fall?"

William: "No."

Me: "Well, that's good. I don't think the king has any horses or men around here."

William: [looks thoughtful] "Well, if I do fall, I'll get Woody and Buzz Lightyear to fix me!"

Me: "I guess that would work."

My birth stories

My oldest, Elanor, minutes after birth

I've posted all six of my birth stories to my blog, and I'm consolidating all the links into one post for easier reference.

All six kids were born in a hospital, and all were natural births (vaginal and unmedicated). The last four (Violet, Gabriel, Peter, and Laura) were doula-assisted. Elanor, Violet, and Gabriel were caught by obstetricians, William and Laura were caught by CNMs (certified nurse-midwives), and Peter was caught by a nurse because the CNM didn't make it in time.

The birth of Elanor Mary

The birth of William Joseph

The birth of Violet Elizabeth

The birth of Gabriel Keith

The birth of Peter David

The birth of Laura Rose

No 7 Quick Takes today

Too busy! Having a great time so far.

But I wanted to share the before and after pictures from William's first haircut. He was mistaken for a girl yet again last night, so we finally bit the bullet and took him in for his first haircut today.

Before:



After:

William says "Grandpa"!

I shot this on Saturday and sent it to William's grandpas on Father's Day. :)

Nothing yet

I didn't get William's ultrasound results today. Hopefully tomorrow.

Man, what a day. I just feel like I've been run over by a truck. Commuting 45 miles (one way) every day is getting old, but there's really no end in sight. I guess I should be thankful I have a job at all.

The Woes of William

William had another episode of vomiting today. It seems to happen every few weeks -- I get a call from daycare saying, "Uh oh, William threw up, better come and get him." I get there, he's happily playing, I take him home and he's absolutely fine the rest of the day.

We took him to the doctor the last time it happened, and the doctor's opinion was that it was teething-related (he was getting a molar). I took him again today, and this time the doctor didn't think it was teething, given that he didn't seem to be in any discomfort. He checked his ears -- all clear.

Then he felt his tummy and opined that there may be some sort of partial blockage between where the stomach and the intestine connect (I can't remember the medical terminology, but it's something definitely fixable with minimally invasive surgery), and so he referred him for a stomach ultrasound to check. We were able to get in for the ultrasound today and will hopefully get the results tomorrow.

If the results are negative, I'm not sure what the heck is going on. The daycare thinks dairy allergy (because he threw up after drinking a cup of milk) but I and the doctor aren't sure. He drank milk all weekend with no problems.

But this really has to stop. I only have 3 hours of PTO left. My husband has only 3 hours of PTO left. We're going on vacation in July (have non-refundable plane tickets) and I'll probably have to take most of the days unpaid because I keep having to leave work when William vomits at daycare. My husband, luckily, gets to differentiate sick time from vacation time so he won't have that problem, but he does get docked points if he takes more than a certain number of sick days in a given quarter, and he's getting close to the "danger zone."

I absolutely love our current daycare, and I'd probably cry if we had to leave it, but I'm seriously thinking of switching to a home daycare that won't freak out whenever he's throwing up. (Our eventual goal is for me to be a SAHM, but we're nowhere near financially able to do that yet.)

William's birth story - February 25, 2008

William Joseph
born 2/25/2008 (36w3d), 10:42pm CST
6lbs, 4.5oz, 19"

William, about an hour or two after his birth

Saturday, February 23:

After feeling trickles of what I thought was urine most of the night, I woke up around 8am and headed for the bathroom. When I sat down on the toilet seat, I looked down at my underwear and realized, to my horror, that they were soaked in bright red blood, as were my pajama pants (I later found blood on one of the king-size pillows I had between my legs, too.)

We went into Urgent Care right away, and I was sent up to the Birthing Center for observation. I was monitored the whole morning, and my midwife came in to do a speculum exam and to check for dilation. I was 1cm dilated, not effaced at all, and baby was very high up. My midwife's diagnosis was burst blood vessels around the cervix (Collin and I had had intercourse the day before, so she thought that might have been a cause.) Baby's movements and heart rate looked great on the monitor. I was having sporadic contractions, but they were painless. We were sent home about 1pm; I was put on pelvic rest for the next few weeks and told to take it easy.

Sunday, February 24:

Sometime that afternoon, I think around 3pmish, I noticed that my BH contractions (which I'd been having for a week or so) seemed to be coming in fairly regular intervals. On the way home from Mass, around 6pm, I told Collin about them and we starting timing them. They were coming about 10 min. apart. We called the birthing center, and they suggested drinking a lot of water and taking a bath to see if they'd stopped. They didn't, and we called again; this time they said to come in only if they became 5 minutes apart or less. Around 3am the contractions (which stayed about 10 min apart) petered out and I was able to get some sleep.

Monday, February 25:

Monday morning, when I woke up, I noticed some bloody/mucousy discharge, and my contractions started up again too. I called the Birthing Center to see if my midwife would want me to come in and get checked, but she said that I should just plan on coming to my next appointment (which was scheduled for the next day, at 10:30am) and she'd check me then (unless the contractions got five minutes apart or less, in which case I was supposed to go in). I timed the contractions throughout my workday; at times they would be 10 minutes apart; sometimes they'd be five minutes apart and then go back to ten minutes. By 5pm, when I got off of work, they were coming pretty consistently at 7-8 minutes apart.

As soon as I got home, the contractions became markedly more uncomfortable, to the point where I was having to stop what I was doing and breathe through them. I was still hesitant to go into the birthing center, though, because I was terrified I'd be sent home. I tried taking a hot bath and drinking as much water as possible just in case it was false labor. I was caring for Elanor, though, which made it tough. Around 8pm, I finally called the Birthing Center and let them know that my contractions were coming about five minutes apart and had been for an hour or so. They told me to come in, so I called Collin at work and let him know it was time. He came home and got Elanor ready to go while I threw a bag of stuff together (I didn't have anything prepared). We dropped Elanor off at my FIL's on our way to the hospital, and we arrived at the Birthing Center at about 9:30pm.

By this time my contractions were VERY uncomfortable. I was put in a triage room to get checked. I was nearly sobbing because I was so scared I'd be sent home, but the nurse announced that I was 6-7cm and 100% effaced! At that point I started crying because I didn't know if I could get through labor without pain relief. Yup, you guessed it: transition.

Once we got to our birthing room, I asked the nurse to fill the tub and asked Collin to call my mom, who lived about 20 miles away. I hadn't called her before because I didn't want her to have to make the drive if it was a false alarm.

While waiting for the tub to fill, I got the shakes – another sign of transition. I got in the tub (which felt HEAVENLY) and breathed through three or four contractions. Suddenly, I felt the urge to push, and Collin helped me out of the tub (to my dismay; I didn't want to get out!) and over to the bed.

The midwife, Christa, arrived at this juncture, and I met her for the first time. (There are three CNMs at the birthing center, and she was the only midwife I hadn't yet met. I was disappointed that my midwife wasn't on call that night, but Christa was fantastic.) She checked me and announced that I was fully dilated; in fact, she could feel my amniotic fluid bag bulging out of the birth canal. She asked Collin and I if we wanted her to break it, and we consented.

Once she did so, the contractions were MUCH more painful; however, I could feel the baby descending into the birth canal. My mother arrived just as I started pushing. She held one leg and Collin held the other, with the midwife (as well as Collin) reminding me to breathe deeply and not to panic (because I was seriously freaking out at how fast things were going).

Ten minutes later, at 10:42pm, William Joseph was born! We hadn't found out the baby's gender beforehand, so I started asking, “What is it? What is it?” Collin didn't say anything at first because he couldn't see – the umbilical cord was in the way. Finally the nurse moved it and he said, “It's a boy!” My mom said my eyes nearly bugged out of my head (I'd thought I was having a girl.)

I couldn't believe it'd barely been an hour since we arrived at the Birthing Center. My mom was thankful she'd gotten there in time and hadn't missed his birth! I had a tiny tear that didn't require stitches, thanks in part to my midwife using lydocaine (sp?) gel and gently coaxing the baby out as I pushed.

There was also a true knot in his umbilical cord, so we're thankful that it never posed a problem – in fact, it may be a good thing that he came early; the knot could have caused problems as he grew bigger.

William weighed in at 6 lbs, 4.9 oz., 20.5 inches long. He was nursing like a champ ten minutes after birth! We have no clue why he decided to come early, or if the bleeding I had on Saturday was in any way related.

The story behind William's name: he is named after Collin's maternal grandfather, who is also William (but goes by Bill or Billy). Collin's middle name is William as well. Joseph was a last-minute decision on our part -- we'd originally picked out William James, but then my brother gave his second son, born about nine months before William, the middle name of James. It wouldn't have been a big deal to have two cousins with the same middle name, but I had started thinking seriously about Joseph as a way to honor both St. Joseph as well as Pope Benedict XVI (who was born Joseph Ratzinger). A few minutes after William was born, I asked my mother if we should use James or Joseph as his middle name, and she promptly replied, "Joseph, after you." So he became William Joseph.

Mommy, Daddy, and William