Holy guacamole, Rowan is 18 months old. Pretty much all words I have to say about that are just cliche parenting lines about “my baby” and “time flies” and whatnot.
I recently entered a mini-essay contest for Tribe Magazine. I’ve published with them before and had a good experience. My essay wasn’t chosen — I like to think because it was a bit of a stretch for the topic. Anyhow, I was just reading a blog post about the NICU and its lack of windows, and it reminded me of my essay. I figured I’d share it now. Might as well dig out of the election-centric posts slowly but surely (Though there will be more. Oh will there ever be more).
If you are anything like me, you have likely read about a kazillion birth stories since the moment you found out you were pregnant for the first time. I have read everything from accidental unassisted homebirths to hospital horror stories. From beautiful water births to straightforward c-sections. I don’t know that I have ready many details about preterm c-sections.
Halloween is over, which evidently means it’s past time to start talking about Christmas. It’s also still November, which is Prematurity Awareness Month. I decided to combine the two.
Rowan had his 15 month appointment today. It was a little spur of the moment, because I called to set up the appointment and they said there was an opening this afternoon.
I’m scared to jinx it, but Rowan is SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT. It’s like a switch flipped on the whole sleep thing. I just wanted to get to the point where he would sleep until at least midnight, or only wake up once or twice. But instead he’s sleeping most nights from 8:00 – 6:00 or more, Zach actually had to wake him up the other day.
It’s been awhile since I’ve written anything really personal about Rowan and the whole preemie experience. Sure, I’ve had things published in other outlets about it, but when was the last time I really took a minute to take stock of the last year+?