Lincoln's Birthday Basket

The Lincoln Classic is fast approaching! If you haven’t signed up, you have until this weekend. So hurry up!

Attendees can participate in golf+dinner ($100), or dinner only ($30). Let me know if you want to sign up!

Along with dinner, there are also awesome raffle baskets. Last year John and I decided we wanted to choose “Lincoln’s Birthday Basket” as one of the raffle items. With Lincoln’s birthday coming up it was nice to have a reason to pick something he would have liked for his birthday and use it for a good cause. This year we did the same thing.

So what do we think 3-year-old Lincoln would like for his birthday? We recently moved in to a new house that needed some work and John has been working his butt off fixing it up. If Lincoln were getting ready to turn three he’d be watching dad hard at work, using lots of tools. And we think he’d love this fun tool bench:

We're so excited for someone to win it at the Lincoln Classic! It just arrived today and it looks awesome.

I'll be honest - I cried picking it out. I also cried at the store ordering it. Which turned out ok I guess because Toys R Us ended up donating half of the cost. Thank you, Toys R Us! And then I cried when it arrived today. This one wasn't easy or pretty. But absolutely worth it to be able to do something to remember our peanut Lincoln. We love you, Lincoln!

This blog

I’ve thought a lot about what to do with this blog. I’ve written a couple of entries over the past year because doing so is therapeutic for me. I didn’t share because I’ve talked to other loss moms and I know what inevitably happens. I’ve written about it before and it’s the reality of life after loss.

The entries are loss related. They talk about things like going through the holidays without Lincoln but with Harrison, grieving on the 2^nd anniversary of Lincoln’s death while still parenting and smiling for Harrison, and coming to terms with Harrison becoming “older” than Lincoln did on earth (that one was especially difficult for me).  About moving to a neighborhood where people never knew Lincoln and handling the question “Is Harrison your only child?” and about the reality of Lincoln being looked over and forgotten as one of our children in little ways people with the best intentions don’t even notice. And like I said, if I share these entries I know what inevitably happens. Enough time passes that someone says “It’s time to move on.”

Reading that statement, a lot of my friends and family would say “No, that’s ridiculous, no one would say that.” But the experience of the loss community tells me they would. Not maliciously. Maybe they just want me to feel “better”, or maybe seeing references to child loss scares them because it reminds them that it could happen to anyone. Maybe they see me and think I look and act fine so I’m just being dramatic. I can’t pretend to understand their motives. But I know it happens to almost every loss parent I’ve met. And it sucks. Some days you let it slide off your back, but sometimes it catches you on a bad day and it cuts straight to the bone. 

However, like I said, writing is therapeutic for me. So I’m going to get over myself and keep this blog open. If I feel the need to write additional entries I’m going to share them. Maybe I’ll help someone understand loss a little better, and maybe they’ll avoid saying something well-intended but hurtful to another loss parent. That would be nice.

Why the Lincoln Classic is important

I’ve been thinking a lot about where I am in my grief, especially as September rolls around. September is Lincoln’s month for me. Lincoln would be two this year. Lincoln should be two this year.

I’ve been thinking about where I am in my grief because, well, that’s just the kind of person I am I guess. I tend to evaluate myself, my feelings, whether I’m doing better or worse than I expected. I’ve decided the pain hasn’t gotten better. It’s changed, and I’ve become better equipped at dealing with it and coping, but it’s still there. Pain that’ll take your breath away and bring you to your knees. Sometimes it will quite literally knock you down.

Harrison helps. He brings happiness and smiles, which are much needed. But that pain is still there. I used to come home (or to the hospital when that was “home”) and scoop up Lincoln. I’d give him a hug and get such a sense of peace. It didn’t matter what kind of day I had, everything was fine because I was snuggling my baby. Now I come home and scoop up Harrison. I give him a hug and no matter what kind of day I had, I feel better because I’m snuggling my baby. But I don’t get that same sense of peace. I miss that sense of peace. Not everything is fine. Someone is, and always will be, missing.

It’s always there. Sometimes in the back of my mind, sometimes in the front. But always there. Someone is missing. I’ll never have all of my children here with me.

I don’t get to post new photos of Lincoln growing up. I didn’t get to buy him a “Big Brother” outfit. I don’t get to see him teaching Harrison how to run around and get into trouble.

What I can do is celebrate Lincoln by getting together with people who love him at the Lincoln Classic. For one day I get to hear his name all day long. I get to talk about him without making people uncomfortable. I get to show the world that my baby was here, and he is important. All of this while raising money for the wonderful folks at Cincinnati Children’s who tried their hardest to save Lincoln. And that’s important.

Almost done casting!

We are almost done with casting! Harrison had his tenotomy (tendon lengthening) exactly three weeks ago. The doctor made a tiny incision in each heel so she could make little snips in his Achilles tendons, allowing her to stretch his feet from a pointed position to a straighter position. Then we had to leave the casts on for three weeks so the tendons could heal. They heal 80% in 3-6 weeks. Which I think is amazing. Kids are amazing.

Now three weeks is up, and the casts come off in the morning! We cannot wait! Tomorrow Harrison will get fitted for his brace, which looks like two shoes connected by a bar. Google says it will look something like this:

He’ll wear the brace 23 hours a day for the next three months. If all goes well and his feet do what they’re supposed to then he’ll move to wearing it only while he’s sleeping. He’ll keep doing that until he’s 4 or 5 years old.

The staff at Children’s tell us the brace will cause us more trouble than the casts because Harrison will be able to get it off. Apparently he'll learn how it works and may get a kick (haha, literally) out of trying to kick it off. I’ll take the tradeoff. I’m ready to give this baby a bath whenever I want, and take him in the pool! And take him outside without feeling bad about how hot it is. Our summer rule for having Harrison outside has been to imagine ourselves wearing a big, fluffy pair of sweatpants. If that sounds awful to us then Harrison’s probably pretty uncomfortable in two big plaster casts with cotton underneath and it’s time to get him back into air conditioning. I don't love the heat so I can't say we'd spend a ton of time sweating it out anyway, but even I've had enough of the indoors.

So excited for tomorrow!!

Casting, week 5

I promised to update on Harrison and I haven’t done a very good job so far. Sorry! So here’s the update…Harrison is doing great! He’s doing an amazing job growing, he’s over 11 pounds now. Great sleeper. I don’t want to jinx things but…he’s been sleeping 7-9 hours straight each night for about a week now. I love sleep! Fingers crossed we get more nights like this!

We are currently in week 5 of club foot casting. Here’s how it works…Each week, a few hours before Harrison’s appointment, John and I remove Harrison’s casts. The recommended method of removal is soaking the casts in a mixture of water and vinegar. The doctors do not recommend attempting to cut the casts off, as the plaster they use is very hard. Harder than the typical casts you see on a kid who has broken their arm. My explanation of how we remove the casts is in no way a recommendation to try it at home. That said, we have had great success so far being able to cut the casts off. John uses garden shears, blunt side only touching baby skin, makes tiny little tears all the way up the cast, then pulls the casts apart so they come off. That way we can keep each cast and see the progress each week, which is really cool!

After cast removal Harrison gets a bath. He loves bath time! We got his first smile on May 26^th (happy birthday, Aunt Maria!) when he was in the bath, it was really awesome.

Then it’s off to the orthopedic appointment for the next set of casts. The most stressful part of the day is timing it so Harrison is eating while his casts are being taken off (to keep him still) and then making sure he’s hungry at the time of his appointment (again, to keep him calm while they put the new casts on). Since Harrison usually nurses I always worry about getting bottles timed for this part, but it really hasn’t been a problem or even very stressful.

The casting does cause a little bit of swelling and light bruising, but it doesn’t hurt Harrison to get the casts on. The doctor only turns his foot as far as he’ll let her. But he sure does get a lot of sympathy and adoring looks from strangers when they see the casts, which I’m sure he’s eating up.

The casting is working.  They’ll cast to over correct the angle of his feet at his ankle, so his feet will point out in the casts. The idea is that if they over correct, when the casts come off his feet will end up at the correct spot. The doctor still can’t say how many more casts he’ll need, but she said it’s looking good. I’m guessing 6 more weeks, based on no experience whatsoever.

Right now both of Harrison’s feet are still pointed, but once foot/ankle angle are where the doctors wants them to be she’ll snip his Achilles tendon to make his feet point forward. This is done in the doctor’s office, not even a surgical center, and just takes a Band-Aid at the incision. Which is crazy to me, but great! After that he’ll get one more set of casts and these casts will stay on for 3 weeks to allow the tendon to heal. Then he’ll move on to just the brace.

Oh, and Harrison is getting very good at kicking with his casts on. Which is great! In other news, watch out for the baby kicking casts around. Ouch!

Also, Harrison is so cute! Right now he’s on his play mat, cooing and smiling away. So I’m going to go stare at him. Here he is! Growing out of clothes I insist on putting him in anyway!

One year

It’s been a year since Lincoln passed away. A little over a year now that I’m finally posting this. I started this post and thought about it a lot in the past month, but couldn’t seem to get myself to finish it. Maybe I didn’t want to acknowledge it’s been a whole year since we lost Lincoln. I don’t understand how it’s possible.

This year on Lincoln’s angelversary we hung out as a family. We went to Lincoln’s spot at Spring Grove, had coffee and donuts and told Harrison about his big brother. We didn’t get to stay as long as we would have liked because Harrison isn’t really into doing anything for a long period of time, but I’ve talked to Lincoln a lot about how little brothers sometimes need extra attention so I think it’s ok.

I had a lot of flashbacks in the days leading up to Lincoln’s angelversary. Especially on that day. What I was doing one year ago at every hour. It’s funny how so many details of that day are so clear, when the following days are such a blur.

A lot of loss parents say they feel a shift in their grief after a year. Not necessarily that it gets better, but that it changes. I can see that. We’ve been through each anniversary and holiday once without Lincoln so we know what to expect. It’s not that the pain is less, it’s that we can better anticipate and prepare for the pain. So that’s….good, I guess? Another common thread among loss parents is that the dread of a holiday or anniversary is worse than the day itself, which I’ve found to be true. Maybe knowing what to expect will help a little bit with that.

I’ve also been warned that others’ feelings about my grief will change. People in the loss community talk a lot about this. People won’t understand why I’m not “moving on” or “getting over it”. I can see that as well because my feelings about my grief have changed. I sometimes find myself being less kind to myself, thinking I should be doing better. Then I remember my baby died. I almost never say it like that. I say Lincoln passed away, or that we lost him. To say that he’s dead feels so harsh. But that’s what happened. He died. He’s been dead for a year. And sometimes I have to say it like that to myself to remind myself of the magnitude of what happened. I’ll never “move on” or “get over it”, and that’s ok. It’s ok to have a bad day. It’s ok to have a bad week. All I can expect of myself is to do the best I can.

I understand there are some people who will find my grief to be too much and that’s ok, too. They won’t understand why we talk about Lincoln to Harrison. They’ll disagree with mine and John’s decision to always include Lincoln in our answer to the question “How many kids do you have?” even if it makes people uncomfortable. They won’t understand why the Lincoln Classic is so important to us. And I’m coming to terms with that.

The wonderful thing is that after a year there are still people in our lives who are there for us. Even if they don’t understand, they’re there. And that’s what I want to focus on this year. The people who love Lincoln and love us. Those people are wonderful.

So, that’s that. It’s been a year. We love you, Lincoln. We miss you every day. Come visit any time you want.

Harrison is here!

Harrison is here! Obviously, based on the number of photos I’ve been posting to Facebook.

Harrison Lincoln Spurrier arrived on April 8^th, 2015 at 8:16am via scheduled c-section. He was 7 pounds, 12.5 oz and 20 inches long. Perfect little baby!

The c-section was relatively uneventful. The only glitch was that Harrison had been head down for weeks so I guess no one bothered to check him before starting the procedure. He had moved to transverse (sideways) so delivery took a bit longer and mom and baby ended up a little bruised, but all was well in the end. I felt better as soon as I heard him cry, and while I was being stitched up John held him so we could both talk to him and give him kisses.

Then he gave us a couple of scares…little stinker...

On our first night in the hospital someone decided they should check Harrison’s blood sugar. It was low, but went up after he ate. Then they checked it again at his next feeding and it was low, but got even lower after he ate. They moved him up to the Special Care Nursery, which is not quite the NICU but gives more attention. Cue emotional breakdown for me. I still wasn't allowed out of bed, so I had to hand off my baby to be taken somewhere I couldn't get to and I was not happy about it. However, once he was in the Special Care Nursery all of his tests were just fine. The pediatrician said another baby had weird glucose levels that night as well, so his assumption is that the testing machine on our floor was off (even though that’s the first thing I asked the nurse and she insisted that wasn't possible). So Harrison was back in my room a few hours later and I was happy. Actually, he was released at about 2am, right after John fell asleep in Harrison’s room and I had taken a couple of Percocets in my room. So after all my tears when he was taken away, I ended up asking them to keep him a couple extra hours until John woke up. Sometimes moms and dads just need to sleep!

About a week later we went into the pediatrician’s office because Harrison was squeaking a lot while eating. There’s no other way to describe the noise, he just squeaks sometimes. The doctor said he has laryngomalacia, which means he has come floppy tissue above his vocal cords. No big deal, he should grow out of it. However, when John put Harrison in his car seat Harrison had what they call an ALTE (Apparent Life Threatening Event). He had some reflux, milk came out his nose, and he choked and turned blue. The pediatrician turned him on his tummy and gave him a few pats and Harrison was just fine, but the event bought us a one night stay at Children’s for monitoring. Lovely.

Harrison was absolutely fine all night, and has been fine since. But I will say spending the night at Children’s was awful. We were kind of ok at first, we were too worried about Harrison to think of much else. Then they brought me my parent badge. Same photo my badge for Lincoln had, same lanyard, same everything. Which turned into a pretty big grief trigger for me. Then we moved into the room we stayed in overnight and it was just surreal. The room looked like all the other rooms…just like Lincoln’s rooms. I hated every minute of it. I hated the resident who asked how old our first son was, even though I KNOW he had been told Lincoln passed away IN THAT VERY SAME HOSPITAL less than a year ago. I know this because the other resident in the room stopped him and told me they had just been told. I hated him even more when he asked if I remembered Lincoln’s birth date, as if Lincoln’s passing could have potentially made me forget the date my child was born. Idiot. I wish punching people was socially acceptable.

But we were home the next day, and that’s what matters. And I’ve gotten side tracked…back to Harrison…

Harrison has since seen the cardiologist for an echocardiogram as a precaution. The cardiologist told us to go away and not come back. Those were his actual instructions. Yay! We haven’t done liver or kidney blood work yet, we’re going to wait another week or so, but there is no reason to think there are any issues there. Again, just a precaution.

We’ve also seen orthopedics for Harrison’s club feet. That doctor wants him to put on a little more weight before casting starts, so we’re set with a first casting date of May 4^th. She expects the casting along with a tendon cutting at the end of the casting process will be enough to correct the club foot. The casting will turn his feet forward instead of in, and the tendon cutting will then allow his feet to point straight ahead instead of down. We’ll have a better idea of long the casting will take once we’re a few weeks in. I’ll update and explain more once the process starts.

So that’s where we’re at. We’re enjoying snuggles with this little guy. It is wonderful having him here, and my fear that I wouldn't love him enough is gone. He’s brought baby happiness back to the house. He’s also made me miss Lincoln even more. I didn't think that was possible. But Harrison has reminded me of all we are missing with Lincoln. I know some people might think “but at least you have another baby to love”. Yea…call me selfish, but I’d prefer to have both my babies. That’s something I know I’ll have to work through and come to terms with. For now I’m just trying to be kind to myself and acknowledge that this isn't an easy process. But I couldn't be happier with our decision to have Harrison, and I love him so much. I’m going to go smooch him now!