Thursday, August 29, 2013

Update: Preschool

Zach started preschool today. He's amazing and funny and smart. He has an expressive language delay that qualified him for public preschool. Just when I start to worry about it, he does things on his own. He learns new words or a word he once pronounced funky becomes clear. For example, Lightening McQueen used to be "AhBaba", which we figured out were place markers for the syllables of "Lightening". "Yaya" was Evan. Now both of these are crystal-clear. I remind myself daily that the fact that he is here, that he is healthy and thriving is a miracle. We'll get the language part down in due time. His old speech therapist from early intervention went out on a limb to guess that this issue he has will be resolved by the time he starts kindergarten. Other than this, he is very bright.

Growth-wise, he is in the 98th percentile for height and the 96th for weight. This is no longer adjusted for prematurity,as he is beyond his third birthday. He's a big boy, but proportionate. Of course when a 33-weeker comes out at over 7 lbs, we knew this would be the case.

I love him so much. I have gotten to a point where I am at peace with the whole pregnancy, where it no longer matters how he came into the world, only that he did. That he is here and well. It has taken years.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Onward


Zach now.

He'll be three in 4 months. He receives speech once a week for an expressive language delay. Not bad. He outgrows it a little more each day. But his speech therapist was talking about him starting preschool in the fall.

I swear, my heart caught in my throat. He's my baby. How can that be? And then I thought of this little blog. Remember my intention to have it turned into a book? I never did that. Maybe this will be the year I finally do it.

I don't know what else to say here. I could try to sum up how it feels to be Zachy's mom. How much he means to me. There are no words. He and his brother are everything. Still. Long after the dream of medical school was surrendered, long after I decided to move up and get a business degree. And then when I said that wasn't enough and I wanted an MBA, and now here I am about 11 months from finishing that. And if I were in the same position again, I would do it all again. Every contraction. Every needle. Every tear. Because  he is here. You would have to hear his laugh, see his smile in person to understand.

I love that I kept this blog. I love that I can rewind and see this. I thought, at first, that it would be more primal, more raw. That seeing the blog, reading it, would bring pain. Instead, somewhere along the road, has morphed into something we survived. This is the story of Zach and I. Just like there is a story of Evan and I. This is just as much his story as it is mine.