ZZZPC CBOXTEMPE - Aysen's Alias

It took me a day to realize the funny letters found on the band around Aysen's ankle represented his name.  I learned trauma patients are established in such a hurry they don't care if they really get anything right.  Aysen might be the prime example.  His name, birthdate and gender were all incorrect.  I can say this was the worst of our experience at Primary Children's so I will not complain.  We were treated great by all the doctors, nurses and personnel.  Andy and I may just drop the kids off with their Aunt Mary Dawn and go on a date to the hospital cafeteria, the food was delicious and the price was even better.

On the way to the hospital on Friday night, Andy made a request.  He said, "You've got to figure out how to be a little more nice to me when bad things happen and not close me off."  My response, "I hope I always treat you this way.  That we don't have any more of these kind of experiences for me to learn a different behavior."

This probably isn't one of my top qualities.  When something bad happens I become numb.  I don't feel.  I don't want to talk to anyone and especially not Andy.  I'm not sure why it works this way but I will admit this is the case.  After Aysen was dropped, I called Andy and told him, "Something has to give."  He politely responded, "O.K.  What?"  I then, ever so curtly, said, "I don't want to talk about it now" and hung up the phone.  A few minutes later Andy called back and I instructed the children not to answer.  I did NOT want to talk to him.  It really isn't good that he gets the blunt of me.  He is still and always will be the better person and he seems to love me faults and all.

My previous posts on the experience seem to just tell the facts.  If I leave out all of the emotion I can get through.  On Thursday I was feeling pressure.  Pressure that I don't accomplish enough.  The day flies by and I've not done much more than hold Aysen.  This experience has taught me a thing or two.  For starters, isn't holding Aysen the much more?  Or taking a minute to play Kyler's famous "Car Red Rover" (maybe only really famous at our home).  What about asking my girls how they liked school for the day, to ask and really listen.  To play a game with them or to help them with a chore?

My home is never clean, it usually isn't a disaster either.  It seems to reside in a state of uncluttered filth.  We grew up with a poem which my mom had stitched, framed and had hanging on the wall.  I loved the poem and memorized it.  I might have to place it on my wall:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

For babies grow up we've learned to our sorrow

So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep

Aysen won't be small forever.  He will grow.  Kyler will grow and no longer want to play dinosaurs with me, he will be at Burraston's fishing with a friend.  Keanna won't always want me to come to her classroom and volunteer, in a few years it will mortify her.  And soon, Taylei will be so good at the piano or sewing I will be asking her to teach me.

I have to learn to enjoy the moments.  I can try to be on time but if I'm late it isn't worth getting upset.  What will the frustration solve?  Spending a day at the softball field when the weeds are growing at home lets my girls know they are worth my time.  Then there is Andy, how many times do I not take an extra minute to kiss him goodbye?  Or why don't I sneak him a note so he can know I'm thinking of him?  Family is most important but do my actions prove I know that?

Today after they made it home from church I was napping with Aysen.  When I finally made it awake we gathered to the front room.  Andy was once again teaching me.  He was taking the time to let our children know they are worth his time.
Believe it or not, no one ended up crying for too long from this wrestling match.  I also can't wait for the day when Kyler and Aysen are tough enough their dad can't handle them all at once.  I'm sure it will happen, in another 13 to 15 years.

Today we had sisters who chose to dress alike.  Even though they were wearing the same shirt they still had their own style.
Then we have Kyler and Aysen.  I KNOW beyond any doubt they were best friends in heaven.  Kyler has never once shown an ounce of jealousy towards Aysen.  Life at our house changed a little and he had a hard time but none of his feelings were directed towards his little brother.  He still tells me, "I can't believe I have a brother."  Every once in a while, Kyler will sanitize and ask to hold his brother.  Not for long, but long enough.  Such love.
And now, I'm ending the night with Aysen in his bassinet.  He is sleeping comfortably.  He doesn't have one cord attached to him.  His heel hasn't been pricked for a blood sample.  He is able to wear pajamas and no one will wake him to check his vitals.  
He is still our miracle baby.  I just hope I can live in such a way that I teach him and my other children what they need to know.  To be happy, to serve others, to look at the bright side of a situation, to reach for the stars with all of their goals and that they are loved by not only me but also their Father in Heaven and brother Jesus Christ.  Our lives are blessed beyond measure . . .