Happy Birthday, Tristan!
Today my little man turns into a teenager. I’m SO not sure I’m ready for this. Just yesterday, I was walking the floor with a screaming ball of warmth in my arms. He didn’t have the best start, but he’s such a handsome, smart, awesome kid. I’m not sure if you remember reading Gwenny’s story, but now it’s time for Tristan’s story. While both my babies are miracles, his story has a much rockier start. (Warning: I WILL say an f-word or two and it WILL be graphic)
When we decided to try to get pregnant with Tristan, I went off the pill in July of ’98. When October came, my period didn’t. I went to the dr. Nope. Not pregnant. Just your body adjusting to being off the pill. November…No period. No baby. Dr said “don’t worry”. Still adjusting. December. No period. BACK to the dr raising hell. He did a pelvic exam and felt “something”, so he set me up an appointment for an ultrasound. I was going to the dr in Cumberland, MD at the time. His office was just down from the hospital. Dec. 16, 2008 I went for that appointment at the hospital. We took my mother-in-law with us and had dropped her off at Hill’s to shop. They did the ultrasound and told me to wait while they contacted the dr. When the tech came back in, she said the doctor wanted me to stop by on the way back down. OK. I did. He said “We are scheduling you for emergency surgery right away. There is a mass between your womb and rectum and it has to be removed.” I said “My mother in law is shopping at Hill’s. Can I go get her first?” Nope. No way. NOW. So we went straight back to the hospital. They prepped me for surgery while Richie (who knows NOTHING about Cumberland) had to find his way back to get his mother AND call my parents to let them know I was going into EMERGENCY surgery. (No cell phone then!)
When I woke up, my dad was standing over me crying. My dad doesn’t cry. My mom, my sister, Richie and Ruby were all there. I had a tumor the size of a grapefruit (A GRAPEFRUIT, dammit). They had to send it for testing. I had “a touch of endometriosis”, but they didn’t feel it was anything to worry about. (HA). They had to remove my left tube (everything was growing together and disgusting) and take “a wedge” from my right ovary. If I were to ever get pregnant, it would be hard and may require help.
Fast forward to two weeks later. I was SICK. Couldn’t keep anything down. NOTHING. And it hurt. They had cut me side to side (like a c-section). Throwing up was pulling on the stitches terribly. YUCK. Called the doc. It’s probably just the meds. Come in, we’ll check you out. (Couldn’t figure out HOW it could be the meds when it was TWO weeks later, but hey. I’m not the doc) Went in, they gave me anti-nausea pills to go with the pain meds. Yay. More pills. Went home, another week went by…Still sick. Another call to the doc. “Do you think you could be pregnant?” Um, no. I just had surgery and it hadn’t been 6 weeks. Couldn’t have sex. Duh. YOUR rules. Not mine. Stupid doctors. Well, come in anyway she said. We’ll do some blood tests. Guess what? I was pregnant. Best guess at a conception date? December 8. Um…”So that means I was pregnant when I had surgery?” “Well, um, ah, well, not necessarily, Mrs. Kesner.” I went OFF. They had done blood work before my surgery, right? Yes, Mrs. Kesner. Why the FUCK had they not caught it??? I had ALL the sleepy stuff, all the pain stuff…Could it hurt the baby? We just don’t know right now, Mrs. Kesner…I found another doctor right away.
He was fine. Somehow, someway, I gave birth to a healthy 8 lb 1 oz baby boy on Sept 3, 1999 at 3:17 am. I had a “slight fever”, so they wouldn’t let me keep him in my room with me-though they had just let me breastfeed him. At about 8 the next morning, I woke up and called the nursery for my baby. Asked why they hadn’t brought him sooner. “Doesn’t he have to eat?” “We fed him, Mrs. Kesner”. Um. That is CLEARLY NOT the instructions. He was supposed to be solely breastfed. They said he had screamed all night. No idea why. So they brought him to me…with a binky. I was SO mad. He was NOT supposed to have a binky. I hated them. No matter. So did he.
We couldn’t get the latching down. I blame the hospital. All the child did was want to eat and cry. No sleeping for this kid. WAY too overrated or some shit. We spent his first 3 months back and forth to the pediatrician just trying to figure out his deal. He screamed, ate, screamed, and ate. My mom and dad moved in with us. I don’t know what I’d have done without them those first months.
Finally, I found a formula called “Alimentum”. “For Colicky babies” it said. I told the pediatrician we had started him on it and it was helping. “Who told you to put him on that”, he asked. “ME.”, I said. “No fucking one else would help me.” So that finally took care of the tummy aches, but he still didn’t like to sleep.
Sigh. But he was such a smart kid. Still is. He was walking by the time he was 7 months old. Amazing child. Had trouble with his “f” sounds. They all came out as “sh”. So a “fish” was a “shish”. And boy did he love “shish” and tractors. He started kindergarten and invited his teacher home with him to watch Star Wars because she didn’t know who Jango Fett was when they did an exercise with naming things that started with “J”. By the 3rd grade, it was obvious he was far ahead of most of his peers. Thankfully, after years of begging, they had him tested and sure enough he is gifted. He’s been in the “gifted program” at school ever since and loves it.
He is now in 7th grade and just recently got to spend some time at a NASA camp in Morgantown. He has also just recently started his very own blog. It’s called Tristan’s Reviews. I hope you’ll stop by & see some of his posts.
I’m so very proud of my baby boy. I want to celebrate with all of you. Enter below for your chance to win a $10 Paypal Cash prize and a $20 Origami Owl credit!
Happy Birthday, Tristan. We love you & are so very proud of you!
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