I haven't written in forever. In fact, I haven't even opened my laptop in two months. I'm disappointed in myself by that. I had every intention of writing about our journey, but, alas, it hasn't happened. The blog isn't the only piece of writing that has been ignored either. That pesky dissertation is hovering above my head. However, today is the day I refocus on both.
I am a mom. Four words I never thought I would be able to say for a fact. I am Oliver's mom and I'm pretty sure he knows this. He recognizes my voice and will turn to face. He giggles and smiles whenever I talk to him, play with him, all of that stuff. I love him more than life itself and never could imagine the love I could have for him before he arrived. We are bonded together forever and it is amazing.
Our life has changed completely and for the better. Our little one had a rough start to begin. He was admitted to the NICU the day he was born for hypoglycemia. A few days later, he started to run a fever. Blood tests showed he had E. coli meningitis and would need 21 days of intense antibiotics. All in all, we spent 27 days in the NICU. TWENTY-SEVEN. While that was hard enough, we were in New York, away from all of our friends and family. Looking back on it, it's crazy to think how we managed mentally. Our days were consumed with waking up in a hotel, going to the hospital, and holding Oliver until late at night. One would think I would have written more then, but I found just holding him and staring at him was better than anything in this world. When the NICU attending physician told us he had meningitis and how serious it could have been if it wasn't caught early, he ended the conversation by telling us to treat him like a healthy newborn because he was essentially just that: healthy and perfect.
The nurses were amazing. Not only did they catch the fever incredibly early and potentially saved his life, they took care of Andy and me. They were our moms when we couldn't have our own. One nurse in particular, Donna, was such an amazing support to us. She was there when we cried tears of sadness because Oliver was having a rough day. She was there when we cried tears of joy because of incredibly generous donations from the hospital and from my Fort family. One day, she brought a bottle of wine, beach chairs, a beach umbrella, and a beach blanket and told us we needed a break. As hard as it was, we did need it and took her up on the offer. On her day off, she came to the hospital for discharge. She took the last monitors off of him so I could hold him for THE first time without anything attached to him. I can't even describe that feeling. Tears are welling up in my eyes now because that moment took my breath away. We still talk to Donna every few weeks just to talk about Oliver and how everything is going. After the Royals won and were headed to the World Series, she called to congratulate us. She said she had been watching each Royals game because she knew we were such big fans (especially since we went to a Yankees game to see our boys in blue). Stony Brook University Hospital was fantastic. We can never repay them for the care they gave Ollie and us.
Here's a video of Oliver's stay:
We were discharged on September 8th. We knew the paperwork for us to leave the state would be filed the next day and knew approval could take 5 to 10 business days. The adoption lawyer said New York was very quick and they were. We had approval on the 10th and needed approval from Missouri. During our whole stay, we talked to Oliver's birthmom a lot. She would text and came up a few times. Her dad stopped by, too. Knowing we were so close to going home, she came to the hotel on September 11th with her mom and her daughter. She held Oliver, took pictures and loved him as much as possible. I can't write enough about Oliver's birthmom without crying. She put on a brave face the entire time, always wearing a smile. I knew this was the hardest thing she had ever done and I knew this was a final goodbye. I hugged her one last time and told her, "Thank you for making me a mom." I think we both cried then...first time I saw her cry.
When we were done, we went back to our room and both of our phones had several voicemails and texts. We had approval to leave the state. It was almost perfect timing. The phone calls saying we could go home came when we were saying goodbye to our birthmom. Perfect. I lost it at that moment. We could finally come home after 5 weeks of living in nine hotels, driving through nine states, and having son. The morning could come soon enough.
On September 12th, we started our drive home with our son as early as we possibly could. When we got to the Bronx, we received a text message saying Andy's Aunt Debbie passed away. Getting home could not have more important.
Once home, we finally were able to introduce Oliver to our family and friends. I have been accustomed to being home with the little guy. I do absolutely anything for his giggles and for his laughs even though he stops when I try to video it.
Oliver is perfect by every sense of that word. He is my son, and I could not be any luckier than I am now.
