My Dearest Nickelson Ryan,
We are breathlessly close to the finish line with these monthly updates. I have to admit that I’m feeling some “update fatigue” here at the eleventh hour (see what I did there?), but let’s finish strong, okay Little Man?
Our family attended the annual homeschool convention in Round Rock last week. I remember that when I attended that same convention two years ago, it seemed like there were babies everywhere I turned, and I was suddenly struck with the HUGEST baby fever. Kali and Sully were just shy of their fourth birthday, on the cusp of weaning, and I was realizing that their baby years were fully behind us. For the first time, I started to wonder what it would be like to bring another baby into our family. I was almost certain it would be impossible for me to conceive naturally, and I knew we didn’t want to relive the anguish of fertility treatments, so I tucked those baby dreams away. Little did I know that God was working in my heart, preparing me for the surprise we would receive just a few short months later—that you were on the way.
Last year at the convention I was eight months pregnant, and every workshop and trip through the exhibit hall was agony; the only thing greater than my discomfort were my fears that so much activity might send me into early labor. This year I was MUCH more comfortable but also much more distracted, having you as our little tagalong in every session. I tried (often futilely) to take notes while you chased toys beneath our seats. When you grew restless and fussy, we plied you with Baby Mum-Mums, bounced or nursed you to sleep, or entertained you with games of peek-a-boo. The conference was not the “mini parent vacation” that it has been in past years. But being there with you—the baby who felt like an impossible dream two short years ago—was nothing short of surreal, and worth every minute of distraction.
I believe that you have officially entered your puppy era: you have mastered army crawling (which Sully calls “arm crawling”), and seeing you spin around on your belly and chase after toys is like watching a puppy play fetch and chase his tail. You have just figured out how to get from tummy to knees so that you can move into sitting position on your own. You rock back and forth on your hands and knees, so I’m sure you will be “real crawling” any day now; for now, you are thrilled to be able to get around, moving from lying to sitting and back to lying again, crossing rooms and getting into everything. The crawling months (mobile but not yet walking) have historically been my most challenging parenting stage, and this time is no exception: you are constantly exploring, finding new drawers to open and toys to taste-test and surfaces to pull up on (you’re just starting to pull to standing) and it’s not easy to constantly monitor you. You’re not a big fan of your playpen or any other confined surface, so keeping you safe is a full-time job.
Thank goodness for your siblings who are great at both entertaining you and keeping you out of harm’s way. They aren’t allowed to stand and carry you, so when you stray too far from where you’re supposed to be, they load you onto a blanket and pull you to a safer spot—this has become a favorite pastime for you all! It’s so fun that you all actually play together now, whether that’s digging through toys in the play kitchen in the twins’ room, chasing each other down the hall, looking at your books, or racing cars on your Fisher Price carwash. The kids come up with creative ways to keep you from their Legos (they’ve become experts at building pillow barricades), and they are far more patient than me when you’re on the verge of a meltdown and in need of constant entertainment to keep those tantrums at bay.
Even though you are into everything, and that can be really hard, I do enjoy how playful you’ve become. You love playing peek-a-boo and being swung around by Daddy, wrestling with your siblings, riding in a swing, and any other activity that involves movement. You are extremely observant and curious, always trying to figure out new toys and watching how the world works. You can be fussy and temperamental and still like to be worn and held by Mama a lot of the time, but you also have extremely happy moments where you’re laughing and smiling. You can be so funny and it’s even funnier because you KNOW you’re being a ham: you pat your body or bob your head and slyly smile, knowing you have our attention. Clapping is one of your favorite things: any time you hear someone clap or say “yay” you immediately smile and begin clapping too, even if you are on the verge of falling asleep (there have been times I thought you were asleep until I see your hands coming together, eyes still closed).
You’re communicating quite a bit more, whether that’s waving or signing “more” for food (we are still working on the sign for “all done”). You babble a lot with various sounds (the motorboat is my favorite), and you attempt to copy a lot of the words we say. You smile and say “mum mum, mum mum!” every time we get out a Baby Mum Mum (you still love them), and you say “mama” when you’re sad and want me to hold you (I’m still waiting for you to say “mama” when you are not in distress). You can also say “uh-oh” when you’ve dropped something, though you usually only get out the “uh” part and wait for us to fill in with the “oh”; this, of course, is the cutest thing I have ever seen. . . besides the million other cute things you do each day. My goodness, you are a cutiepie.
We have had a lot of fun with water this month. It’s been warm enough to take you to the pool and you really like floating around in your baby raft; I shouldn’t have been surprised, since you are also a big fan of bathtime, especially now that we bathe you in the regular tub where you can splash around and play. We also spent two days at the Kalahari waterparks and you had a great time! The swing over the water was truly your happy place, but you were also great in the lazy river and splashing on the baby slides. You looked hilarious in the life jacket that was bigger than you are!
You gave us a couple of big scares this month. The first took place a few weeks ago when you were crawling in the pantry while I cooked dinner. I heard you coughing and went to pick you up; you were clammy and drooly and then you projectile vomited all over me. I assumed you had some sort of tummy bug, but when I went to change you into something that wasn’t covered in throw-up, your mouth began foaming and you spit out a Mento mint that you must have found on the pantry floor. Only then did I realize you weren’t actually sick and that the vomiting was your body’s way of keeping you from choking; I was just so relieved that you were okay!
The second scare happened in the middle of the night just last week: you were sleeping in bed between Daddy and me (or at least you had been between Daddy and me) when we awoke to you screaming from the floor: you had crawled over Daddy and launched yourself out of bed. Daddy and I were terrified, and I cried while he made sure you were okay; thankfully you were fine, but we were all pretty shaken up. After that we knew we couldn’t keep you in our bed—which was a problem, since you won’t sleep without me beyond the couple of hours you sleep in your swing at the start of each night. I spent the rest of that night on the floor with you (something I am too old to do). The next night we were in a hotel room at Kalahari, so once again the two of us slept on the (very hard) floor. As soon as we got home from our trip, Daddy disassembled our bed frame. Our mattress is now flat on the floor, and while I HATE the aesthetics, it’s the only solution that will keep you safe and get us all the sleep that we need. When I’m feeling grouchy about my not-so-pretty bed situation, I remind myself that you will be sleeping on your own one day and I will be glad we made every effort to cosleep (safely) for as long as we could.
Beyond the everyday scares, we have an ongoing concern regarding your size (second percentile for weight and far less than first percentile for height, which is the part that has us worried). We have been seeing an endocrinologist to help us to determine why you are so small and whether or not this is a problem requiring intervention. We still haven’t found the cause of your short stature, so we will be doing more tests and have been referred to more specialists. It’s hard not to let my mind jump to worst case scenarios. There have been a lot of tears and a lot of prayers, and right now we are trusting God’s plan for you and praying that He provides answers and a clear path forward.
There has actually been a whole lot of trusting God going on as we’ve started to loosen the apron strings. I still hold or wear you for much of every day (even at home), but I’ve started dropping you off at childwatch at the Y and in the childcare room at church. You even stayed with Grandma and Grandpa (along with your siblings) for a few hours earlier this month so Daddy and I could go on a date. It’s hard to see you cry when we initially say goodbye, but you always settle down immediately, and I know this time with other kids and other adults is important for all of us. I’m glad that you are always happy to see me when I return, and appreciate our bond even more when you’re returned to my arms.
These letters never completely capture all I feel or want to say to you each month; there aren’t enough words in the dictionary to convey the depth of my love for you, or the wonder I feel each time you gaze up at me with those inquisitive eyes, or the gratitude I feel over getting to be your mom. These eleven months with you have been unexpected and hard and also amazing. And it’s just the beginning!
With all my love, always and forever,
Your Mama
DEVELOPMENTAL MILESTONES: waving, getting to sitting position from tummy, first teeth, rocking on hands and knees (but still just army crawling), pulling to standing more frequently
OTHER BIG MILESTONES: first time being dropped off at church, first time being watched by Grandma and Grandpa, first time at the pool, first time at a water park
LIKES/FAVORITES: oranges, grapes, applesauce, Baby Mum Mums, the twins’ play kitchen, crawling/exploring, clapping, peek-a-boo, water (the bath tub or pool), being outside, milkies
DISLIKES: savory purées (beans or meat), diaper changes, waiting to eat once you’re in your high chair, Arlo’s barking
WORDS: “uh-oh” (but usually just the “uh” part), mum-mum (when you see baby mum-mums), Mama
TOOTH COUNT: Two! Both front bottom teeth are just peeking out; thankfully, you have been surprisingly unbothered by your teeth coming in, but they are VERY sharp when you bite me nursing.
EYE COLOR: light brown
HAIR STATUS: filling in nicely, curly and very light brown/almost blond
LENGTH: 25.4 inches (<1st percentile)
WEIGHT: 16 pounds 10 ounces (2nd percentile)
CLOTHING SIZE: 6 months
DIAPER SIZE: Honest Size 2
KALI’S MESSAGE TO YOU: “Dear Nico, I love you and I kind of get sometimes scared without you, well not really, I just love you so much and like to be with you and you look so cute in the mornings.”
CHARLIE’S MESSAGE TO YOU: “Dear Nico, thanks for being such a cute and fun little brother to play with. I love playing with you and I hope you love it too. Love, Biggest Brother. P.S. Can you please stop trying to grab the Legos in the playroom?”
SULLY’S MESSAGE TO YOU: “Dear Nico, you are the BEST BABY EVER and I love playing with you all the time and sometimes I get scared without you and you look so cute when you’re asleep and I love you so, so much. Thank you for being the best baby ever. Love, Sully.”
MISCELLANEOUS QUIRK: Regardless of what time I put you to sleep in your swing at night—whether you’ve been in there for 45 minutes or four hours—you wake up at 11:30 to nurse and move into our bed; your internal clock is impeccable.
MEMORIES I DON’T WANT TO FORGET: Seeing you wave to me from the baby swing at Kalahari; the way your face lights up and you begin clapping every time we say “yay”; chasing you around the floor during workshops at the homeschool convention; watching you army crawl to me when I pick you up from childcare at the Y; your siblings pulling you around the house on a blanket; the crazy positions you find to nurse while we lie in bed.
