Alex on the day he was born. A wee bit camera shy!
Dear Alex,
You turned one whole year old this month! And to celebrate, you get a trip to the Emergency Room. We were hoping to hold of on this sort of adventure until you were older and falling out of trees and such. But you, being the “go-your-own-way” sort of person you are, had to do this sooner. Please don’t think I am making fun of this. After I hung up the phone with your Daddy, I cried. Partly due to guilt: I had toyed with the idea of taking you there myself two days ago, but decided I was being overly alarmist, plus we had seen your doctor. And then I yelled at you last night because the hours of screaming (by you) had worn me down in a not so good way. And then I cried too. I wasn’t going to hurt you, or me; I was just exhausted as were you. Good thing Daddy loves us both.
Alexander about 2 weeks old
I should have listened to my inner voice and just gone to the ER. I am sure this is a mantra your Daddy and I will have for the rest of your life. Go with your gut. This is my first piece of advice to you. Sometimes your brain spends too much time thinking about things, analyzing, replaying, positing ‘what-ifs’, when really, your brain needs to shut the heck up and your gut needs to take over.
Unfortunately, whether it was intended or not, my take away message as a child was, you don’t go to doctors (or, heaven forbid a hospital) unless there is lots of blood (and then it depends on how much is “lots”) AND an appendage is lying on the floor and cannot be replaced via the use of staples or duct tape. We are sorry. It’s not our fault. Personally, my own recollections of visiting doctors as a child are vague. I remember falling off the monkey bars and having to go to the hospital for stitches. After that, I’m not really sure I ever saw a doctor again, except for the orthodontist. Your father on the other hand spent a great deal of time falling off of and out of things and in the emergency room having appendages placed in casts. Your Grandma Mimi once joked that had she taken your father to the ER as many times as she did then, now, she is certain Social Services would have paid her a visit.
Digression Alert!: I took myself to an eye doctor when I was a freshman in college. I realized something was wrong while sitting in Psychology 101. It was an enormous auditorium type classroom, there were probably 400 (not kidding. Really) or so of us freshman in the class. I sat in the back because it was sooooo booooooring. Dr. Barry. He was the professor. He was a wizened little man, about a million years old and probably dead (he also probably never went to a doctor but should have. This would have been the conversation his doctor would have had with him,: “Well Dr. Barry, based on my exam, you are clinically dead. Perhaps you should retire now”). Dr. Barry would read to us aloud, from the text book. I sat in the back of the class so I could nap (it was, after all, an 8 am class). The entire class would have sat in the back if there were enough seats. At some point in the semester tho’ it occurred to me, I couldn’t see the blackboard when occasionally, Dr. Barry would stir to life, turn around and write something, possibly useful, on the blackboard. My freshman addled mind finally determined that I needed to see an eye doctor, who said, “gee. I hope you didn’t drive here”. Anyway…
I love my bucket! not so much all the fleece you have surrounded me in. Heck! Its NORTHERN VA!! I never gets like, cold here.
Guts. This is the real problem. And, again, it seems like I am making fun, but really I am not. You went to the ER due to some pretty severe constipation. Through the tears, there really is humor here. Years from now we will laugh about this. Right now, I will reach for another Kleenex and beat myself up for being the worst mother in the whole wide world.
My birthday letter to you has turned to poop in more ways that one.
Your arrival and existence merely brings home the point that, as adults, we really have no idea what we are doing. Security is just an illusion. We go through our days thinking if we look both ways, if we use our turn signal, if we take our vitamins, if we go to the doctor, everything will be okay. Well things go wrong, and decisions get made and well, perhaps they were not the best thought out decisions.
As you are reading this you are probably thinking, geez mommy, get to the point (actually Alex you are probably trying to chew on the monitor and are getting a kick out of pounding on the key board) So the point is, we love you Alexander! Your first year has brought many smiles, much joy, and new adventures to our lives. We are so glad you joined us. Now, eat your veggies, your fruit and take your laxative in your juice and let’s bring in year number #2 (HA! #2! HA! Get it?!?! Get it?!?!) without the extra excitement of a trip to the hospital! I was thinking more along the lines of a party, with cake!
Happy Birthday Alexander Salamander!
