Connor Dale Weatherington

If there is such a thing as a perfect day for a funeral, today was it. Blue skies. A warm breeze. Flowers were blooming and the leaves were rustling in the trees. Maybe the recent death in the family has made me take more notice in my surroundings, or perhaps the death has made me more aware of the whole God/nature connection. Regardless...it was a beautiful day, this very sad day we said goodbye to Baby Connor.

The anticipation of this funeral had me very upset since I've never had to deal with the death of someone so young. I knew I'd cry, so I grabbed a handful of tissues as we walked into the funeral home. As Patrick and I stood in line we watched a video that was playing pictures of Connor. I watched the first few - his mom holding him in her arms, his perfect little hands folded over each other, him laying on his tummy - and I had to look away. I was trying to hold it together at least until we got to pay our respects to Patrick's cousin and her husband. They were holding up surprisingly well, considering all they had been through (especially since she had just been released from the hospital the day before). We hugged and I told her how sorry I was (the biggest understatement ever) and that  I loved her. And like any good mom, her eyes moved to her son and she smiled. There he was. Baby Connor. With his sweet face and pudgy cheeks. He was wearing a hat and there was a beautiful blanket folded up by his feet. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't stop the tears. I heard a sob, but it wasn't me. I looked over and saw that it was Patrick.  He turned and left. I followed him and when I got outside I cried harder than I have in a very long time. That little boy. That baby. His parents should be cuddling him and watching him sleep right now.  They should be getting to know his cries and his strange little noises. They should be smelling his skin. They should be in awe of him. They shouldn't have had to bury him.

On the way home from the funeral I started to cry again. I was remembering that huge decision of what outfit I was going to bring home Griffin from the hospital in - the "homecoming outfit." All the books and all the women in my expecting club were talking about it. He was a summer baby, so it wasn't like I was going to put him in anything more than a onesie and some light pants, but I still felt the pressure. One night while Patrick was at baseball with Duncan (and I was feeling too pregnant and warm to sit through a 2 hour ballgame), I finished washing and drying all of Griffin's baby clothes. I sat on the couch, surrounded by an enormous pile of clothes, burp cloths, sheets, and towels and tried to figure out what he should wear home from the hospital. I was getting high off the smell of Dreft, but I finally settled on the blue and white striped onesie with the puppies on it, along with some pants and a light blue hat. In my mind this was a significant decision. We'd be taking pictures of him before we left the hospital and when we got home. As I looked in that tiny casket this morning I realized that Connor's parents had to make the worst decision of their lives - what to bury their baby boy in.

I spent the day alone today with Griffin. We've been known to butt heads at times. He is strong-willed. I am stubborn. He is a force to be reckoned with. I am exhausted. But today was different. We giggled and laughed and played. I hugged him over and over and over. I told him how much I love him and I didn't care one bit when he flipped himself over when I was changing his diaper. I just flipped him back and smiled.

I wish I had a profound way to end this post, but I don't. Griffin is upstairs sleeping right now. I am grateful for every minute we've had with him, and I will be grateful for every minute from now on.

The lucky one

Patrick's cousin was due with her baby on May 21st. As of the 24th, she had not gone into labor and was scheduled to be induced this morning. Just before lunch today I received a call from my mother-in-law. Abby had a septic infection and her baby boy died and she is in critical condition. I was shocked. Sad. Scared. Confused. How could this happen? I still don't know any other information.

My first reaction, once the initial shock wore off, was an intense need to drive to day care, scoop up Griffin and cover every inch of him in kisses. His fat little feet. His pouty lips. I wanted to breathe in the warmth of his neck and hear him giggle. I wanted to watch his face light up. I wanted him to know how grateful I am that he is my baby boy. How lucky I am.

I thought back to 9 months ago. The colic times. Those 4 long months of crying and screaming. The back arching. The red face. The hardening of his tummy as he cried. I thought back on how horrible I thought that was. How I thought it would never end. But I would do it all over again. I would relive every single one of those days, every one of those minutes because I know it would be a hell of a lot easier than what Abby will face in the coming days, weeks, and months. The tears that I cried, the ones out of frustration and fear and lack of control and yes, even moments of regret, cannot compare to those she will shed for the loss of her precious boy. Baby Connor.  The loss of someone who she will never get to see smile. Or hear cry. Or watch sleep. She will never feel his breath on her neck as she rocks him to sleep in the middle of the night. She will never hear him babble or get to comfort him when he is sad or hurt. She will, however, have to go home without her baby, and close the door to his nursery - a constant reminder that there was supposed to be one more person in their house. How do you ever recover from that?

I have never felt as lucky as I do right now.

Life with a 10-month old

[caption id="attachment_768" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Standing and giggling on the couch with daddy"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_769" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Showing off all his new tricks"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_770" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="It's never too early to give him chores"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_771" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Chillin' in his chair (OK, so this only lasted about 6 seconds)"][/caption]

I'm sorry, but...

This is the most beautiful boy. Ever.

Uninspired

I've been terribly uninspired lately. I've just been trying to get through the day-to-day stuff - work, bills, cleaning. And then there's the other stuff that crops up. Griffin's cold that turned into bronchitis. His baptism that's coming up on Sunday (which means more cleaning, more money spent on food, and many, many trips to the store to find an appropriate outfit for him to wear).

I really thought things would calm down after the golf event at work was over and I was able to take some vacation time once again (this time last year I was saving up all of my time for maternity leave), but right now it feels just as hectic and I'm really disappointed. I was imagining taking walks with Griffin and going to the park. Instead, I come home from work and I'm exhausted and he's still in that phase where he needs a bit of a late afternoon nap or he turns into a bit of a monster (a cute one, but a monster nonetheless). Balancing a baby's needs with the schedule of a 12-year old is quite challenging and I struggle with it all the time - naps and baths vs Little League and science fairs. Sometimes it's too much.

So I'm overwhelmed and therefore uninspired to write much.

In just a few minutes

I need to go to bed. I really, really need to go to bed. I have no idea what happened to this day. Last night at 7:30 PM I knew I was going to wake up with a migraine. And I did. I was irritable and really sleepy (way more than usual for both of those).

I ended up working from home today and I thought I had all kinds of time and before I knew it, the day was over. Well, technically, the day still isn't over, but I'm not being technical.

So this is how my evening went:

Pick up Griffin from day care
Tiptoe through the house while he takes a much needed nap
Try to finish writing a grant while he takes a much needed nap
Wish I was taking a much needed nap instead of writing a grant
Cringe when I hear Griffin wake up from much needed, but short-lived nap
Feed Griffin
Play with Griffin
Wrestle Griffin (aka Diaper Change)
Stress out for a moment when he starts to gag on a Goldfish cracker
Take Griffin to Duncan's baseball game
Realize we show up at the wrong diamond
Drive to the correct diamond and watch some of the game
Leave when Griffin gets fussy
Feed Griffin
Watch him crawl across the ceramic tile and lean against the front door
Hug him when he bangs his head into the front door and cries
Hand Griffin to Patrick when he walks in the door
Finish making dinner
Eat dinner by myself while watching the repeat of the Cubs game
Finish writing grant
Realize that I am not prepared for 7:30 AM marketing meeting
Find notes for marketing meeting
Skim notes and decide to fake it

In other news, I took some pictures of Griffin in his new monogrammed chair from Nana and Baba, but the batteries in my camera died and the cord to upload the pictures onto my computer is in my car and I'm all sorts of lazy right now and am not about to walk the 15 feet to the garage to get it. Lady busy, maybe later. There's an off chance that my sister will read this and understand that last sentence...

My backup husband will be in Rock Island in July and I can't wait...