We’ve been struggling with Emmett’s lymph nodes since Christmas. The swelling goes up and down, he’s been on antibiotics, had blood tests and seen three different doctors. At yesterday’s well-child check-up we finally hit a wall. They’re still swollen and you can feel the little lumps all the way to his shoulder. Our regular pediatrician is out (her oldest daughter is on her second or third round of chemo for nephritic cancer), but the doctor we saw yesterday said she wasn’t comfortable with the swelling all the way down his chain of lymph nodes. We’ve come to the big “B”. Biopsy.

I know it could be a myriad of things causing his swelling, but the elephant in the room is cancer. It makes want to throw up just to think about it. They’re going to cut open a little flap in Emmett’s neck and slice off a sample of his lymph node. Shit.

The biggest immediate hurdle I have to get past is that we won’t even get to our first appointment with the Hematologist until sometime after May 1st. Not only does it take forever to get an appointment, but we’re in the middle of changing insurance policies with Andy’s new job. It’s only been a day, but still I’m having a rough time not letting that terrible thought in the back of my mind cloud everything.

My beautiful, healthy little boy might be sick and we don’t even know. I’m certain this is one of the moments in life that will either kill you or make you stronger. Knowing myself, I know it will make me stronger, I just have to find the path.

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Two years ago today, my husband and I were running around like crazy people trying to get everything ready for the birth of our second son. I was absolutely huge, Andy was under tons of stress at work, and amongst all that we were learning how to deal with our first son (19 months old at the time) on the fly. Because Oliver’s delivery was so quick, our Obstetrician decided that our best plan for Emmett was to head to the hospital on his due date for induction of labor. This way there wouldn’t be any babies delivered in the backseat of the car during the 30 minute trip to Greenville.

We were as set as we were going to be and were supposed to check-in to Labor and Delivery at 6 a.m. Ollie had been packed up and taken over to my mom’s the night before, the crib had been reassembled and set up in our room, the bottles were sterilized and the infant carrier had taken its place in the backseat. All that was left to do was get up at a truly inhuman hour, not eat or drink anything, make the drive over and have our next baby boy.

All the paperwork had been filed by our OB, so after a very short sit in the waiting room, I was called back. I was shown to our “birthing suite” and the nurses helped me with all the undignified details of getting into a gown and getting hooked up to all the monitors. As the nurse stepped out to check on my orders, some of the other nurses commented to her how well the labor inducing drugs were working. Funny little detail because I didn’t even have an IV yet. Emmett was coming today, no matter what. For the record, I had NO idea.

Fast forward to late afternoon. My contractions were in full force, they had placed my epidural and we were just passing time until it was time to push. Andy and I had been noticing that Emmett’s little vital signs were decreasing with my contractions (decells) and were a little concerned, but not too much. A little before 5 p.m., it was time to push. Woo-hoo! I was so tired of being pregnant at that point, a little pain and some labor were the least of my worries.

As we began to push, Emmett’s heart rate began to dip even lower during contractions. As the midwife called for a doctor and neo-natal intensive care nurses, my world became a blur. Our midwife told me not to wait for contractions, just to push. Emmett’s head was pressing against his umbilical cord and we just needed to get him out as fast as we could. I was an absolute wreck, physically and emotionally, but some hard work was something I could definitely do.

Emmett was born less than 20 minutes later. He was blue and we still don’t know if he was breathing. Unlike Ollie’s joyous birth, there was no little bundle placed on my chest this time. Emmett was rushed over to a waiting team on the other side of the room and placed on a warmer. They were breathing for my little boy. Our world stopped. Through the delivery of the placenta and all the other after-birth procedures, I was oblivious. All I could do was watch a group of people in scrubs do things to my son that I had been trained to do, but couldn’t for my son. Hell, I couldn’t feel anything below my belly. I held my husband’s hand and we just cried.

About ten minutes later, they finally brought me my bundle. He was still a little blue and his hands and feet were so very cold, but he was alive and well, and therefore he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Despite his traumatic entrance into the world, Emmett was an easy baby. He’s always been such a happy kid. He’s growing so fast! I know how lucky we are that there were no ill effects from his birth. The folks at Pitt County Memorial Hospital were on the ball, and had oxygen to him so quickly that there’s nothing left from that experience, except our memories.

Today Emmett is trying to learn how to use the potty like his big brother, speaking in three to five word sentences and eating us out of house and home.

Happy second birthday, big man! We couldn’t imagine our world without you.

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It would seem that naps are leaving my household for good. Poo. They provided a brief afternoon respite for a couple of years. I guess Emmett’s upcoming second birthday means he’s growing up in more than just age.

Oliver left behind naps at about 18 months, and I was too pregnant to fight him over it. It got to the point where I was spending 45 minutes to put him down, only to have him wake up 30 minutes later. It just wasn’t worth it. Emmett, on the other hand is usually a joy to put to down for a nap. When he was tiny, all you had to do was lay him down and sing him a song. As he’s grown, all he required was his blanket, a quick rock and a short story. Well, that process has slowly lengthened the past few weeks and I think I’ve reached the point where it’s just more trouble than it’s worth.

We’re very lucky in that both boys go to bed early. We’re fighting the longer days and Daylight Savings Time, but they’re still usually on their way to bed by 6:30 or 7. Without naps, we have to fight to keep Emmett up until then. Today is the first day I’ve managed to get him to nap in over a week. We’ll see how that works out this evening. I’ll wake him up at just under an hour, because otherwise he’s been known to sleep for 3 hours and then be up until midnight.

I’ve always let the boys kind of guide their own sleep patterns, so this should be an interesting experiment.

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Other than the sheer joy of getting to meet my nieces for the first time, I think that’s the biggest thing that sticks out in my mind. I know there are exceptions to every rule….but it’s so very different having two little girls in the house, as opposed to my normal two ring boy circus. I had to do all the good Aunt things like brush hair and buy them a couple dresses, but those are just the physical differences. Girls are calmer by nature. Yes, they got all riled up with Ollie and Emmett, but left to their own devices, they would sit and play with a toy, not pick it up and throw it or try to take it apart. I don’t think its fair to say that its all parenting, either. Kids just have natural tendencies. The difference in just my two boys is astounding…..but compare that to the two girls and it’s night and day.

Anyway, here are my nieces all bundled up at the park. Of course, we had the coldest week of the year while they were here.

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I had to get up early this morning to head to New Bern and make a little bit of extra money. That means Mommy gets most of Sunday to herself. Its nice to have a few quiet moments to reflect on how much I love my boys and my husband and actually get a chance to miss them. We’ve got a great little family and my husband and I work so well together as parents. We took the time last night to go out and get some dinner away from home. It gave a chance to discuss some recent behavior problems with Oliver and figure out the solution. The bottom line is, it’s going to be a rough road ahead, but Ollie will be a better kid for it.

I think we went wrong when Emmett was born. We wanted so badly for Ollie to feel special, too, and not feel slighted by his new baby brother, that we over compensated. We gave in to a few things we shouldn’t have and it’s just snowballed. I’ve always sworn that I wouldn’t have the kid that pitched the huge fit in public, and yet I find myself face to face with that kid. We remove him from the situation when he starts that kind of behavior, but the problem is that it shouldn’t happen in the first place. It’s going to be long week or so, but we’re going to have to teach Ollie that he isn’t in control, Mom and Dad are. This means no TV, no choices at meal times and a few other things that Andy and I decided were leading to the way Ollie has been acting. We’re going to have to tighten up and not allow for negotiating or second chances for a while. Its going to be the roughest on me, I think, because I hate to see him unhappy. Oh well, I have to put that aside and teach him to deal with time out every time he argues or pretends not to hear me.

We’ll get through it and hopefully, in the end, I won’t have to be the “hard Mommy” for too long…..but he has to learn to listen and he has to develop an attention span before it’s too late and his behavior patterns are set. He’s still so young, there’s no need for the fits to become permanent behaviors. He’s got such a sweet side to him and can be such a good boy when he wants to be. We’ve just got to work to get him to want to be that boy more often.

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