A Photographic Essay On CICU Mothering

We find ourselves at the midpoint between Mother's Day and Lincoln's second birthday.

What was it like to be a mother to a child largely confined to intensive care in the hospital? I'm not sure how to describe it. The things that brought me hope would be found terrifying by another parent. I learned a new normal.

My parenting philosophy has long been in line with the AP crowd. Lincoln was brought forth with gentleness and great care- how it tore me to pieces to be unable to cradle him in my arms! But I adapted. We discovered that Lincoln was soothed by fingers running through his hair, which was good since all who came in contact with him did exactly that.

Mothering in the CICU was completely different, and yet it was still the same underneath it all.

Columbus Zoo

A few weeks ago my mom had an appointment scheduled and was unable to watch the boys on a particular Thursday. Jason and I were both able to take the day off from work, so we decided to take the boys on a field trip to the Columbus Zoo.

To prepare for our trip we read a handful of books: We Like to Nurse; Does A Kangaroo Have A Mother, Too?; Animal Strike At The Zoo. It's True!; and Zoo Babies.

I printed out a zoo passport {links to an easily printable passport} which Logan really enjoyed looking at. He had a lot of fun with the zoo map and made sure that we picked one up as soon as we entered the gates. It was consulted many times during our visit!

How does Mama Roo not loose her mind?

The polar bears were in a playful mood.

Jason's favorite.

Babies!

Leo had a fun time riding along in the Boba.

Tiger naptime.

This dude was neat. He left front flipper is a nub- he lost it as a baby turtle. He  kept swimming by all of the kids and "waving."

Lion naptime too.

Shape of A Mother

A few years ago someone shared a link to The Shape of A Mother. This site is dedicated to the post-baby body that many mothers find themselves in a love/hate relationship with. Women post their pictures and their stories, both of which are equally revealing. My friend Kelly opened up about her own post-baby body on her blog after the birth of her second daughter. 

I've thought awhile about how women delight in taking pictures of the so-called "baby bump," but once the baby arrives the bump- which is arguably more of a blob once freshly emptied in my experience- gets no love. It's hidden. Why are we ashamed of our bodies? I'm not suggesting that mothers begin posting pictures of the new shape of their bodies en masse on their Facebook pages, although, what if they did? 

I could go on and write yet another post about how the mainstream media has brainwashed us to believe that  there is one definition of beautiful; that this ideal is impossible for 99% of the human population to achieve. 

Instead, I'm going to share my own photographic journey in celebrating the post-partum body. I've talked before about my struggle with body image. My pregnancy with Leonidas stretched my body and emotions further than I thought possible. While I have been open about the grieving process and finding hope and joy again, I haven't followed suit with my body's physical healing. So. Here goes.

Millions of weeks pregnant.

Soon after birth. Within the first two weeks, I believe.

3 weeks PP.

Somewhere around 4-6 weeks PP.

8 weeks PP.

8 weeks PP.

10 weeks PP.

12 weeks PP.

{About this time I dropped off with taking pictures of my post-partum progress...}

8 months PP.

{That is a change of over 60 pounds, for the record.}

Uncomfortable

It is happening now. I had wondered at what point it would begin.

We are nearing the two-year mark. We have another baby now. We've settled into a new normal.

I've seen the expression wash over the faces as I mention Lincoln. I note the apprehension as it rises in their eyes as they wonder how I managed to fit him into the conversation- and how they can escape it.

To others, there is nothing more to say; he was born, he lived a sad while, and then he died.

I cannot compare my experience of mothering Lincoln to that of his brothers, and yet I do. I force him in whenever possible.

It upsets some people, I guess.

Sometimes I don't feel like talking about any of it. But if I don't, I fear I will continue to move farther and farther away from him.

I usually find a way to bring up Lincoln's story because it is unbearable to think of him not being numbered among my children. I tell strangers.

Last week though, I told someone that Logan and Leonidas are my only children. I didn't so much say it as I agreed with the woman's assumption. I felt like a liar and as she continued prattling, I began a conversation with God instead. Was I wrong to say nothing?

When I Cannot Sleep

I dislike it when I cannot sleep.

While everyone else is awake, I am useful. Busying myself with the care and keeping of my children and house, my mind is not given much opportunity to wander.

The darkness falls and it is quiet.

The post-bedtime hours are when many other mothers relish some time to themselves; to work, sew, read.

I am alone with my thoughts.

Was he ever even here at all? If not for the pictures or his little urn, I cannot be sure. He looks heavenly. I stumble around as though in a dream world. The surroundings are vaguely familiar, but I am lost yet.

I avoid the room he was born in and make excuses to enter it in turn. I long to feel his presence. I know it will cut deeply when I do and I am afraid to reach back into that place.

His birth hurts.

I would give birth to ten more sons just to know that I could return to that place. It would still frighten me. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced and my other births were unlike it.

I was vulnerable. How can I allow that again?

I was free. No one controlled us. It was him, me, and The Father as truly one. Jason and Kaiajade bore witness to it.

I still feel like I failed to protect the most precious gift I have ever been given.

Our Debt Snowball

As I mentioned previously, we are hard at work snowballing our debt again. We did this in 2010 and were gaining momentum when I found out I was pregnant with Lincoln. We then focused instead on setting money aside for his homebirth and to cover bills while I took time off from work. Since his heart defect was not caught in utero, we weren't prepared financially for his lengthy hospital stay.

{Here's where I interject to once more express our gratitude for those family, friends, and strangers who held fundraisers for us. The money raised covered our mortgage for two months and alleviated the amount we had to spend on gas to drive to the hospital everyday.}

The last few years have been chock-full of ups and downs. The financial strain came to a head last year. We grew sick of living paycheck-to-paycheck and feeling as though we have been working for nothing.

Jason and I are no strangers to setting up payment plans for medical bills and we had plenty more of those even before Leo's birth! {Level II ultrasounds and fetal ECHOs aren't cheap. And our insurance has a high deductible- yay! Or not..} What we have not been so good at is saving for unexpected expenses. You know, like a new set of tires when your third child is less than a week old or an alternator that suddenly goes out.

I checked out Dave Ramsey's baby steps and announced to Jason what our plan of action ought to be with our income tax return. We set up our emergency fund and paid off some bills right away. I would need to look back at our budget for the past few months to have an exact total, but I know offhand that we have already paid down over $2,000 in debt and are making slow and steady progress on what's left. Setbacks like my needing new glasses and the aforementioned alternator, which happened in the same week, have slowed our momentum. We are on our way though!

Chilo Lock and Nature Preserve

Jason and I are snowballing our debt (a la Dave Ramsey) again this year. {More on this later.} We had planned to return to Gettysburg for the 150th anniversary in the summer, but it simply is not in the budget right now. Instead, we have been seeking out more local adventures we can take.

Today we visited the Chilo Lock. The first time I had ever visited was last summer when Jessi did my maternity pictures and Jason has not been back since he was a kid. It was a breezy day that required jackets, but it was sunny and nice. We were pretty much the only ones there too!

Logan got to watch a barge float down the river and saw a train rolling down the tracks over on the Kentucky side. We spent over an hour hiking around the nature preserve. Along the way we identified birds, animal tracks, and habitats. Jason picked up a wide piece of bark that had fallen to the ground at the base of a tree and we checked out all of the little critters skittering about beneath it.

The Log was not keen on sitting on the tree.

"I'm Gandalf!"

How high is the water, mama?

I've been working at being more creative with my cooking at home, so this evening we are trying  Slow Cooker Tacos Al Pastor (pineapple chile pork). Logan has been talking about apple pie all day. I baked a pie when we got home this afternoon and used a shortening-free pie crust recipe for the first time. Pie is kinda my thing, you know, and I'm eager to find out how this crust compares to my usual recipe. Update: The pie crust was a win, the pork a fail.

Holding Pattern

It feels like our family is just holding steady and settled into a routine. It isn't bad, though I am itching to make more changes now that the initial shock of grief has waned and we are not in the midst of a pregnancy and the requisite birth planning. This bears mentioning as we have not been in a state other than these, save for brief periods, in four years.

Four years!

Reading over old entries and FB posts reveals the same old theme; finding myself aggravated with things I see online, vowing to cut my time spent online, only to continue with the same old habits. How frustrating!

This evening I was honest with myself and admitted that I've lost JoEllen along the way. Why do I waste so much time online? I have no hobbies anymore! Years ago I taught myself to knit, but I haven't done anything worth mentioning in that area in so very long. When I find time to read the topics are usually work-related- birth and breastfeeding. The rest is mostly religion and theology.

Jason talks about new movies coming out and I remain indifferent. I don't even know what I like anymore. It's been a long time since I have sat through a movie. Another aspect bothering me is how crummy my attitude is. Apathy is kind of a jerk, friends. It makes me appear snobby- a behavior that doesn't lend itself to building relationships.

I'm trying to figure out what else I'm into beyond moms and babies, I guess.

Spring!

The never-ending winter has finally given way to warmer weather. Mild temperatures in January tricked my daffodils into popping up, so sadly they have not bloomed as others' have. A bummer for me as they are my favorite flower.

Ah, the joy of preschool holiday parties.

I'll help you out: It's supposed to be  a pirate ensemble.

"Yeah, well I learned to ride my bike in the graveyard!"- Teenaged, more-metal-than-you Logan.

As is drooling, apparently.

"Look Ma- No hands!"

Easter dress. Back down  to a size 8, but  I  don't think  it looks flattering.

I really wanted an eyelet dress. The denim jacket was required because strapless dresses don't work so well on me!

No Mistakes

I believe that all things come full circle.

I have been spending stolen moments of free time over the past week on cleaning up the blog. I've been deleting certain posts and reverting others to drafts. There are old posts from this blog's early days that were simply childish or even pointless. It has been interesting to read back over my thoughts from just 5 years ago. I was angry for a long time. I was lost.

A subtle shift could be observed about the time that I lost Bee, but I noticeably matured once I became pregnant with Lincoln. Yes, even before we knew about his heart and walked that road. His spirit was peace and I can reflect on how I really started to understand what it meant to trust Jesus in all things. I had thought previously that I had a firm grip on this, but I did not. While the pain of Lincoln's HLHS and eventual death were not caused by God as punishment to us, He did redeem the experience and made it beautiful. And I grew up, just a bit more.

I will always be thankful for that.

This evening I finally caught up to the posts I wrote during my pregnancy with Lincoln (where I also believe my editing will become largely unneeded). One such post is entitled "Twinkle, Twinkle." I used the phrase to reference Lincoln's heartbeat as seen on a first-trimester ultrasound.

Oh, "Twinkle, Twinkle."

I cried.

Jesus was there on that day. He knitted Lincoln's heart and knew of his HLHS. He knew even then that particular little song would become permanently etched on our own hearts in relation to Lincoln's. That we would play that song as we prepared to leave our second born at the hospital in the evenings, including the evening we left his earthly body for the very last time as he went back to Jesus.

image source: pinterest