Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Swimming in the deep

Im not athletic, we've determined that. Anyone that needs a pacemaker by 30 is last on your dodgeball dream team, I get it. I wouldn't pick me either. My bucket list includes alot of items most people dont have, it usually involves a lounge chair...... But when a last minute cruise popped up I jumped on it to swim with some sting rays. You read that right, I jump into the deep end in most areas of my life. Stamp "WIMP" on me if its athletic, or has to deal with urine, as in animals that can kill and/or pee on you. Here's my theory, five kids, ive hit the pee limit. Plus anytime a cute Jamaican guy says "Hey MON we dont de barb them, they learn to trust you in five minutes" my first vision is Steve Irwin......so lets just say it wasn't a quiet "swim", my swim mates didn't have a jovial or come to jesus swim, my apologies. I believe the term "speaking in tongues" could apply to my fear level.

Our fourth child Bryce was born at 24 weeks gestation, on the floor of a kitchen that likely had never been cleaned. He weighed 1pd 2 oz and he was born to parents that didn't get to/want to visit him in the NICU. This is a sad thought but working my way through the weeds of Child Protective Services I have been able to create a vault in my head where all of those facts live. To be opened when demanded to by a licensed professional and/or my child when they are ready. I imagine an image much like the movie "Inception" of a huge doll house that cracks half way to show a vault of paperwork, steel trapped.

"We have an extra seat" he said in June 2011, driving our SUV that held seven, "Yes we do lets hope the social skills training kicks in and we get a friend up in here for these coo coo birds". Six weeks later I was pregnant, the man needs to start pointing at water and saying "wine" and a BAM for effect. Fast forward 7 months and we are at Banner Desert NICU since I was 3 cm dilated at 30 weeks. The nurse was pleasant, calm, smelled clean, soft hands, everything you could want for a sick child. She looked educated, but not tired of her job, early 40's, mature enough, but not burnt out. She showed us the three night rooms where moms sleep while babies are in the NICU, a breast feeding area, and isolets, baby incubators, all except one were empty. We walked silently up and down the rows and I was in the front. I could feel the lump in my throat build as each isolet passed me, vacant. I heard soft steps of the nurse and my husband close behind. It was time to turn around as I had reached the end.... I swung around to my 38 year old husband biting his lip white. I whispered to the nurse "our baby lived here 8 months alone, we just, um, I guess we just weren't prepared, he wasnt ours yet so....."  Tears fell down my husbands face as he nodded that was what he had been thinking the whole time. I could tell in his face. "Oh my, I will get tissues" the nurse said as she ran to a cabinet stocked with boxes that went on for days, as I imagine a unit like this needs. God, Grace, Kleenex, and realism fully stocked. I thanked her for the kleenex and she said "Im a bit teary myself, we never get to see if those babies make it, and the parents just dont come, they leave them here, so this new baby is a blessing since you couldnt....." awkward silence.... "No we could actually, we just didnt see the point I guess, Im 31 weeks so anything you throw at me we will be fine, if I have to live here or otherwise, I guess we didnt need to see this place, or maybe we did......".

Bryce will be seven this February. We were happy he hit 45 pounds and a size 4 outfit last month. He memorizes patterns, loves music, shapes, math, science, quiet, and dark rooms. He doesnt really have proper emotion yet but I think in time he will. If he doesnt that is OK. Bryce had been on tubes his whole life to eat so when we got him at 23 months they told me he had a slim chance to learn how to eat. I had a slim chance of staying sain in a house with a child who couldnt eat, AKA could die on anything in his mouth. We drove two hours each way to therapy in Tucson, while I taught High School Econ, while I was opening a business. Kevin and I were the only two that could feed him. Thats OK, its scary stuff, but talk about pressure. Phones stopped ringing.

Five years later and notes home include "Bryce did very well on his actual work today, but he spit on his classmate for no reason". "Bryce understood the second grade concept of regrouping but called everyone Buttheads at lunch", "Bryce is very responsive when we use the computer or smart board, but he has been grabbing teachers' breasts this week".

People may say we have a Le ze Faire attitude in life, maybe we do. That one baby in that one isolete that day I said a prayer for, it went something like this "Jesus, Buddha, Bretheren, Allah and all my grandfathers and fathers watch over this sweet baby, may the right home get this child, namaste, peace be with you, amen and Walakem Salam". My daughter was partially raised by a lesbian couple more committed than Britney Spears was at 1am in Las vegas, our other by a single mom with kids from different men "gasp living in sin". Our licensing worker has had the same boyfriend for 15 years or so. I will say this once, a baby wrapped in the arms of a loving, able, educated adult....... Or left lit by a bulb, effectively alone for 8 months, well its no choice for me, sorry. Civil/Equal rights that can save a few hundred kids from homelessness, helplessness, and GET a married committed couple that shows true partnership, Im in. LIFE and its lessons are so much bigger than some award show.

We have one picture of Bryce in his isolete, my husband hates it.... "Thats not my hand" he says....... We jump in the deep end. We swim with the barbs in, but dammit if I don't go down yelling. I might be small but weak is a state of mind..... My kid eats anything he wants, never tell me never. On to personal space and large crowd control next.................

"We have an empty seat now" he said last night looking in the back of our SUV that seats 8.......... I swear to God that might make TWO empty seats if you keep talking my love....... Shhhhhhh