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August 14, 2002
My son Jarod Stanley was born on March 28, 2001 at 1:37 PM in the same hospital where I delivered Jaida. Steve and I had not been able to come up with a middle name. We decided right after Jarod was born that we wanted to remember Steve’s brother Stanley (who passed away at age 14), so we agreed it was perfect. I was shocked that he was so small. He was 6 lbs, 15 ounces and 20" long. Everybody always says your next baby will be bigger than your first. I figured the stress of Steve's accident (he was seriously burned during my first trimester), our subsequent financial troubles and the severe, extended morning sickness had sabotaged my appetite and my baby's growth. We went home and began a successful breastfeeding relationship that lasted 11 months. I figured a lot of mommy’s milk would fatten him up in no time.
In the beginning I wondered why Jarod seemed so much different from Jaida. He slept four-hour stretches at night by two weeks old and he rarely fussed. He definitely had his father's personality. Nothing seemed to upset him. With Jarod, I always felt as if I was waiting on the other shoe to drop. Then, when he was about one month old I noticed something strange. I would go into his room to get him after a nap and there would be a pool of spit-up under his face. Sometimes, he would scoot all over the bed and end up facing the other direction or scrunched into a corner. It seemed like he was running away from something. I mentioned it to our pediatrician but she was not concerned. I asked about the fact that he seemed to gain weight slowly. At his two-week weight check, he had only gained 6 ounces above his birth weight. At one month, he was still less than 10 pounds. I was puzzled since he nursed often throughout the day. I thought he should have been a little porker.
While I was trying to enjoy my new baby, my first baby was driving me nuts. She acted as if Jarod was an unwelcome visitor. In the hospital, she would not look in his direction. I could not turn my back on her for a second. She threw things into his bassinet and pulled his arms too hard. I tried to talk to her about how to be careful with our new baby but she didn’t understand. I felt a three-year-old should have been mature enough to grasp the concept. Instead, she took every opportunity, (like when I was nursing Jarod) to get into trouble. I had to start locking all three of us in my bedroom to keep my eye on her if I had to nurse. Her speech was still minimal and she acted like a toddler instead of a preschooler. There were frequent tantrums and crying fits. I was also upset by the way she repeated everything we said verbatim like a tape recorder.
Since the kids were born in the same month, we took Jarod for his one month checkup and Jaida for her three year checkup at the same time. I was not prepared for traveling somewhere alone with two children so soon. Steve had to come home from work and drive us. He was the only one that could control Jaida anyway. When the doctor came in we went through the regular checkup questions. Dr. W asked how many words Jaida had. We described the way she repeated things. I know she was looking at the notes the nurse had put in the chart since she we had already answered these questions. Why was she asking this again? She kept rephrasing the question as if we hadn’t understood what she meant. Finally, she told me to call a local university and take her for a free speech evaluation. She scratched her head and told me it was probably Jaida’s personality to be very quiet. I am assuming she said that because she had never heard Jaida utter a peep in the whole three years we had been coming to her practice.
Jarod had been nursing this whole time and now it was his turn. She looked him over and didn’t say much. I was waiting on her to comment on the way he breathed. He always seemed to be snorting, snuffling or rattling. She acted as if she didn’t notice. Again, I figured she was not worried if she didn’t bring it up. By this time, he had eczema all over his face and most of his body. Not to mentions his scalp. I don't think "cradle cap" is an accurate decription. To my great relief, Dr. W prescribed a 2.5% hydrocortisone cream. Almost as soon as it had begun, our appointment was over. Steve and I discussed Dr. W’s blasé attitude on the way home. We decided we would watch Jarod closely and bring it up again if it was still a problem at his two month checkup.
Before I knew it, my maternity leave was nearly over. I was more at ease this time and my mom was going to watch Jarod for us. (We all lived together by this time.) Judging from Jaida’s recent behavior I decided with some guilt to put her in daycare. My mom definitely could not handle her and the baby. Dr. W had recommended daycare or a mom’s day out program to help her speech develop. (Why do people always say that will help a child learn to talk, or list lack of peer play as a reason for a child’s delay in any area? That really drives me nuts! Anyway, I digress.) I searched for a place that would take a non-verbal, un-potty-trained three year old. A center near our house was the first one that even had an opening in her age group. I took her to visit one day. She seemed to like being around the other children. I talked with the assistant director and I felt like it was a good choice. Well, they say hindsight is 20/20 and that was correct in every way in this case. I learned all I needed to know about what to look for from this place.
I told them she was a picky eater, they said fine. I asked what I should bring. They said a change of clothes and a “lovey” for nap time if she had one. We had a dry run on a Tuesday and all seemed well. I felt we were off to a good start. Things at home had not gone so well. My mom was having trouble getting Jarod to take a bottle. We had practiced some but apparently not enough. It’s a good thing I went back part time at first. He was always ecstatic to have me home every afternoon. We had a reunion nursing session every day that first two weeks and soon, he took his bottle with no trouble. I was feeling good about being able to handle work and two children so well. Chalk it up to the nursing euphoria. I would soon be handed my first challenge.
One Friday night after I put the kids to bed I took a shower and tried to relax. All of a sudden I heard what sounded like intense crying. I tried to hear by sticking my head out of the curtain. Was I imagining things? When I turned off the water I was greeted by the sound of Jaida balling at the top of her lungs. I quickly dried off and opened the door. She was sitting on our bed tugging at her left ear. Oh God, I thought, not an ear infection. This would be the second in her short life but the first of many to follow. Steve and I discussed what we should do. I thought it was probably unnecessary to page our pediatrician at 10:30 on a Friday night. We asked my mom to listen out for Jarod (who stayed sound asleep thru all the wailing) and we headed to the ER at the hospital where our kids were born. It was closest, smallest and not part of the city’s rotation so we knew the wait would be short. The doctor was Hispanic with a thick accent I had trouble understanding. Steve (who understood him perfectly) was surprised because usually I have to interpret for him when we encounter somebody from another country. We laughed about my mommy brain while we waited for a nurse to bring us a dose of antibiotic and a prescription.
Jaida seemed better the next morning so she went to my in-laws’ house for the day. Steve and I went out to lunch at the brand new TGI Friday’s because it was my 27th birthday. I threw caution to the wind and had the Jack Daniels ribs and some shrimp with plenty of that fabulous sauce. I ate with exquisite pleasure and prayed I wouldn’t upset Jarod’s stomach too badly. He seemed to be sensitive to certain foods and his skin inflammation made me think it was all related. I had to stop eating dairy altogether. We went by to check on Jaida and give her another dose of the antibiotic we had just gotten filled. My in-laws had chosen to spend the day at the land they were planning to build a new house on. I was not happy about Jaida being outside all day long with two adults that had no sense of what it’s like to be a child but it was not worth arguing about. I had long since learned not to critique their parenting skills unless it was a life threatening situation. (Like the time they didn’t give her the toddler formula I had sent during the whole EIGHT hours she was at their house. LONG story for another day) Besides, she seemed fine and I wanted to enjoy the rest of my birthday and I needed to get home and nurse Jarod.
In the entries to come, I’ll do a month by month summary until we get to the present. I really don’t think I can tell our story accurately if I skip too many important details. I hope you bear with me and continue reading!
Kim, Jaida & Jarod
----------Talk To Me----------------------
Are your relatives in denial about your child's condition or delays? How did you handle it?
Has your "special kid" accepted a new sibling with delight or dread?
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