Simply Happy Birthday - my letter to Jack

My sweet little buddy:

Two days ago, we celebrated your first birthday.

In a traditional sense, it was not really much of a celebration! Life had you spend the day @ the school (although I did go cross-down the day before to make sure you little guys had your share of tiny chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting from Whole Foods...), and just as I was leaving the office to find the rest of you, my family, and celebrate, my car broke down in the parking lot and all of you had to spend your evening rescuing me. We attempted to atone for the non-celebration by letting you feed yourself some chocolate cake, which you happily did - and we hand-washed you afterwards.

However, I'm not disappointed in any turn of events on your birthday (somehow I also know that neither are you! Not yet anyway...). Simply for the fact that the main part of the day, the celebration singing high in my soul, drenching tears from my eyes all day was that YOU were with us - that this you, this tiny ball of life, were so happy and so blissfully ignorant of the reason for my high emotions.

I have relived your birthday, a year ago, almost to the minute, when away from you, in the middle of usual and mundane. The un-happening of the induction by the late morning from the night before; the decision to proceed with C-section; the whirlwind that followed and the miracle of hearing you @ 2:14 in the afternoon. I relived, also, all the days that were to come after your birth. The sharp, clean, sterile smell of Le Bonheur NICU; the undying shrill of multiple monitors, in your room and countless others; the quiet voice of Dr. Knott-Craig the day before the surgery; the endless wait during your open-heart and small frequent updates from the OR; the first sight of you after your surgery in CVICU, your little mouth open in your anesthesia sleep and unending lines and monitors; the soft waterfall 'whoosh' of your oxygen generator in the NICU... memories so present and fresh, and yet so far removed.

Through your Adventures of Jack, I have learned the painful vulnerability that will probably never leave. The ability to look at my children and fear. The heartbreak of thousands of parents faced with scenarios far worse than ours. The usual glamour and glitz of pregnancy and cute baby circuit shattered by the crossing of the threshold of a Children's Hospital.

Don't get me wrong, Jack-o. I look at you, I feel your small but vigorous strength, and I know you are an undeniable survivor.

Vin Diesel

Jack started going to our daycare on 7/25/11. Despite my almost disabling fear, he was not immediately struck with any number of various kiddo viruses, and my prayer is that it continues this way!

He does well in school (he's definitely having less trouble taking naps in school than did Maya when she first started - whether that's attributed to his more laid-back personality, or some changes in the Nursery II room since Maya was there, hard to tell). In a recent development, however, Allan has informed me that Jack has earned himself a nickname from his teachers. Of all things... Vin Diesel? Apparently our teachers believe Jack bears an uncanny resemblance to The Fast and The Furious hero.

This has prompted me to investigate Vin Diesel's official Facebook page (and seventeen hundren profile photos generously included there), after which I had to come to the conclusion that indeed, my little man's bold profile does indeed resemble Vin.

I hold out hope, however, that with appearance of *any* hair (any time now...) Jack will emerge as a star all his own...

Jack makes two (in the bath)...

Jack's stellar sitting skills allowed recently for a sizeable step in reducing evening routine time - there are now two 'rubber duckies' in the batch each night. :) In my world, saving roughly twenty minutes on a daily basis counts for major brownie points.

I'll have those brownies now, thanks.