The first born child of Hale Yeah

My first son Owen was born on 10/12/07 at 3:42pm.  It took me 35 minutes to push that booger out and I will NEVER forget when the doctor laid him on my stomach and he looked right at me with the most incredible blue eyes that still grace his face today.  All my life from the time I started collecting my first baby doll I knew I wanted to be a mom.  It was something God placed inside my heart, a yearning that I knew without a doubt would come true some day.  It took us over a year to get pregnant with Owen and the moment I found out, the moment that stick came back with a plus sign I was hooked and in love.  I had a pretty normal pregnancy, gained 75 lbs (I'm serious, I had my own gravitational pull), yelled at my husband for eating the leftover pizza that I went looking for at midnight, had gas pains, bloating, heartburn, etc.  I was SO HAPPY!  Then that beautiful day when we got to take him home from the hospital of course everything was just as wonderful.  He slept through the night, never cried and I resembled that lady on the pampers commercial with the flawless complexion and perfect hair....sigh....NOT!

O to the M to the G the kid was HIGH MAINTENANCE!  He woke up ALL the time during the night and not just as a newborn.  He broke out to everything even Dove soap and there were times when he would cry for so long that I would just cry right along with him.  My husband would come home from work and not know which one to console first, him or me.  And the ear infections that first year, one right after another... I thought I was going to loose it when I went 24 hours without more than an hour of sleep holding him because that was the only way he'd stop crying from the pain.  When he started daycare it was a nightmare because he would wail as soon as I gave him to the teacher which would of course make me feel like a horrible mother and I'd start to cry as soon as I drove away from the place.  That first year of his life was the absolute hardest, yet the absolute best...and now it's gone.  I wish I could go back to that younger version of myself and tell her it was all going to be ok.  That she'd get to sleep again...in about another year. ;o)  I'd tell her to cherish those moments I wished would go away, like when he would wake up wanting a bottle or clinging to me when I dropped him off at daycare.  I'd hug her when the postpartum depression hit and tell her to pray more.

I owe my first baby a lot.  He was not an easy baby and you know what he's not easy now.  He's a holy terror in the morning until he's had his chocolate milk and if you don't give him a least 30 minutes to wake up before you get him dressed you better call the Pope because you're gonna need a exorcism.  He eats way too many sweets and is louder than a bull in a china shop.  But he's got a heart of gold and can make me laugh so hard sometimes I cry.  He loves intensely and without boundaries.  He is an awesome big brother and has a love for Jesus Christ that is deeply rooted.  

Without my Owen, without my first child I would not have made this journey this past year with his baby brother as well as I have.  Owen taught me that there are things we ourselves have to go without in order to let them prosper, like sleep and our sanity.  He made me stronger when I wanted to break down and simply cry from the insurmountable pain of not knowing if Gage was going to make it those first six weeks of his life.  I had to put away the anxiety meds that I so badly wanted to take to put me to sleep because I had to take him to school or to the park.  He brushed away my tears when he thought I was crying from my shoe lace breaking when in reality I had just received a phone call from the NIC unit that Gage had to be intubated that night.  You see to him all he had to do was pray and that was that.  No more worries. Gage would be fine.  Owen has a strength in him that he pushes on to me even when I don't want to be strong because he expects nothing less from me.  He made me the mother who was able to pick herself back up and carry on.  Just like his name sake, I OWE God for him.  He is my strength.  So many times siblings of special needs kids get lost in the process of caring for the one in need, not on purpose and certainly not because they love that kid less, but because of the amount of time those doctor visits, and overnight hospital stays take away from the parent's time at home.  I'm thankful that I was blessed with a family on both my side and my husband's who support and care for Owen when we are not able to.  Because of them he is never starved for love or attention and I thank God for them.  

Well I'm done writing my novel...it was certainly therapeutic and now I'm going to crash and dream about unicorns.

God bless all.