Mothers (We're Not Really Superheroes)

*Disclaimer* There are a LOT of pictures with this post. Because I have that many spectacular memories with my boys.

Moms. They're described so many ways. Superheroes. Queens. Leaders. Healers.

I know I'm none of those things. I'm just a mom.

Becoming a mother was 100% the best thing I have ever done with my life. I was a YOUNG mother at 21. I had so many unrealistic expectations at that time.

David was my world. For 6 months, I was in new mommy bliss. Exhausted mommy bliss. The boy never slept. The boy didn't want to eat. But he was so happy. And so loved. We were a team from the start because Michael worked so much and we were in another country without any family. 

And one day-we had a follow up with a different pediatrician than usual after a 10 day hospital stay for a severe case of pink eye. Seriously. Hospitalized for IV antibiotics at 5 months old with pink eye. Had no idea that my world was about to change. 

This doctor took one look at him. She said "Your baby isn't right. There's something wrong. He's not like others." Keep in mind that this doctor was German. She was very blunt, but not unkind. I was 21. Alone. And in denial. 

Guilt. That's what happened to me. I felt incredibly guilty. Did I do something wrong? Did I need to do something different?  

We came home when David was 14 months old to pursue better treatment and testing stateside for him. 

I was no longer in denial. Still so young. But smart enough to know that my baby was definitely not typical. We went through years and years of testing with no real answers. 

And again......guilt. Always feeling guilty that I wasn't doing enough for David. 

We made the decision to have Kyle. It was a HARD decision knowing that what David had was most likely genetic. But we took a leap of faith. And when I was 27, Kyle was born. 

It was a difficult birth for me. I ended up having an emergency C-section. And again I felt guilty. While I was in recovery, I knew Michael was with Kyle......and all I wanted to do was sleep. And again I felt guilty. One of the very first pictures that Michael took of Kyle was of his little toes. Seems innocent enough, right?? But we had ulterior motives. We didn't know until David was 2 months old that he had webbed toes (talk about more guilt). Which is a sign of a genetic condition. And while we certainly didn't know that Kyle didn't have what David had.......seeing his perfectly separated toes was a slight relief to us. 

Kyle was so different than David. He was super serious. Cried pretty much the first year of his life. He challenged me. And I was exhausted. And again. I felt guilty. What could I be doing differently to make this kid happy? Why COULDN'T I be Supermom and not be tired and have all the energy in the world to be the perfect mom for these 2 kids??? 

Kyle didn't really notice David at first when he became aware......I think he just grew up and David was a constant that didn't interact with him.......so he didn't interact back. Little did I know how much Kyle was really taking in.

As the boys grew, I always wanted to do more. Be better. Be more alert. Be more loving. Be happier. 

And the guilt was always there. No one wants to feel like they're failing. 

The years continued to fly by. People don't lie when they say that you blink and the time disappears. We created so many memories with the boys. They were (and still are) my world. 

Before I knew it they were both in school. David was sick a lot with respiratory stuff. He failed a swallow study. And I felt like I failed him. Six months later, he had his gtube placed at age 9. In hindsight, we should've done it immediately after the failed swallow study. But again. Guilt. Guilt that he needed it and guilt that we didn't do it sooner. 

When Kyle was in second grade, he was having so many issues focusing. Again. Denial on my part. We tried SO many different things to try to make him more aware and more focused. And they didn't work. He was diagnosed with ADD in the middle of that year. We finally went the route of medication for him. And the guilt of that. I was embarrassed that I couldn't seem to get it right. Even though the medication was by far the best thing we've done for him. 

These kids are my world. You cannot compare motherhood to anything else in life. They lived in me for months and months. I held them for as long as they would let me (David was able to be held much longer than Kyle!) The emotions of motherhood are indescribable. 

They're growing up so fast. David is an ADULT now. And as a person with a compromised immune system, we've seen some scary times. But nothing as scary as January of 2017. This is where I often feel my biggest failure during this mommy-ing journey fell. I usually read him so well. I normally KNOW when he's coming down with something. I feel like I must have missed something to almost have him die before my eyes. GUILT. 

And again. Guilt because Kyle saw this all happen. Kyle was crying. I had to send Kyle off worried and afraid with a friend so I could focus on David. Guilt that a few months later, Kyle was diagnosed with anxiety. Guilt that I have anxiety. 

I know none of that time was my fault. Believe me. I know in my head that it was a weird, freak thing that happened, And I am SO grateful that we pulled through that time in a positive light. I know how fragile life is now. 

Which leads me to this conclusion. 

Those boys are my greatest accomplishment. Guilt is something ALL mothers feel. I have no doubt that no matter what kind of circumstances moms and their kids are in, whether it be a failed math test, the near loss of a child, or something we've seen numerous times in the special needs world-the actual loss of a child. As a mom you are going to feel guilty. 

But the love that invades you, overcomes you.........it makes the guilt worth it. It makes the world complete. Momming is hard, but so rewarding. I will never regret having David and Kyle. Even on bad days. They are part of me and their dad. My world is so much better being a mom. 

And Happy Mother's Day to my mom. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be able to experience my own motherhood. It kind of all started with her. 

And to my sisters. Who are mothers of their own babies and angel babies. We are so lucky to have one another. 

And to all the moms. Don't let the guilt overshadow the happiness that our children have given us. We all have it. We will continue to have it. Sometimes it will consume you. But don't let it stay. Have faith. We are ALL wonderful moms. 

Not superheroes.

Not queens, leaders, or heroes.

Just amazing mothers. I think "mother" means so much more than any of those other titles. 

12 years

I don’t even know how to begin to write a blog post about someone I love so fiercely, but drives me to the brink of insanity.

Because I do love him fiercely. I almost chose not to have a second child. I was scared. I was anxious. I was a little bit crazy. But I’m so glad I made the decision. Because without Kyle, my life would be so empty. He shows me what life is about. The ups, the downs, the calm, the crazy. He does them all for me. 

We might be way too much alike and that’s why he drives me insane. He pushes my buttons daily. He sighs at me. He rolls his eyes at me. He only hears what he wants to. He’s a slob. He’s unorganized. But we’re working on all of that. And sometimes it’s better. And sometimes he’s a hot mess. But it’s all typical. And I didn’t know what that was like until he came along. 

When Michael is at work, it’s him & I that form a team for David. It’s me changing the diaper. It’s him running to get me the wipes or a plastic bag. It’s me feeding David & him getting the water I forgot in the kitchen. It’s me carrying David to the van. It’s him opening the door & getting the diaper bag. 

Kyle branched out this year to do track for the first year. He was one of the smallest kids out there. He worked hard & learned a lot. He was exhausted. But happy. He wasn’t the best. But improved. And I missed him a lot when he wasn’t home. I realized how much he really DOES help me when he’s with me. But spreading those wings now is what part of growing up is about. And I hope we continue to show him how to do that. 

Our life is messy, lovely, gross, and funny. It’s also weird, but normal. It’s a lot to take in. But Kyle has embraced it & doesn’t know anything different. Nor do I think he wishes for anything different. We’re just who we are. And he knows that’s who we are. 

Happy 12th Birthday Kyle. I’m very lucky to have you & so happy that you drive me so crazy. 

Love you lots. 

This Kid

Let's talk about this kid. 

 I know his birthday is next month and you'll get my typical birthday post for him. He'll be 12 though. So he's not into the super sappy, lovey-dovey kind of posts anymore. Haha. And I'll respect that. I'll come up with something to write for him that won't embarrass him.


But for real. How could I have done the last 4 weeks without him? David got really sick on March 9th. He has now missed a total of 3 full weeks of school. I know one of those weeks was his spring break. But if I'm honest with myself, he wouldn't have made it back then anyway. He even stayed home today.

Last week was Kyle's spring break as well.

And I felt guilty. We NORMALLY take a day trip over spring break with the boys. We were unable to this year because of all the sickness (I've been under the weather as well). But when David is sick-the world moves around him. At least within these walls. We sleep when he sleeps. We're awake when he's awake. We take temps and we suction and we medicate, and we snuggle. All on his terms.
And Kyle takes a backseat.

That makes me feel HORRIBLE. I'm talking about feeling lower than low. When you have to essentially "favor" one of your kids over another one-it breaks my heart.

Kyle rarely makes me feel like a horrible mom. He didn't complain once that we had the lowest key spring break that we've ever had in the history of spring breaks. He let me nap when David was napping. He didn't bother me to get him meals, to ask for snacks, etc. He took care of the dogs and kept to himself in his room. Basically because I asked him to. To avoid the world of germs that he was the only one spared from.

He came running when called if I needed a bag for a dirty diaper, help finding the thermometer, running for washcloths, towels, and water bottles. He worried from a distance. I know he did. But he held it together. Which is new. He usually falls apart with me. He may not be growing much. But he's certainly growing up. 

Sometimes I worry for him. Socially, he can be quite awkward. He has a small circle of close friends and a wide circle of decent friends/acquaintances. And he likes to keep it that way. He entertains himself with video games, Youtube, and reading. When the weather is nice, he loves to be outside. 

He rarely asks for much. He started track this year. And we've talked to him multiple times about us not being able to attend a lot of his meets because of David. He has been so wonderful about that. I know he completely understands. But I hate for him to be disappointed if we're not there. Even though I know he doesn't expect it. 

The other day I found him outside jumping on the trampoline. He took a nerf sword out and was just having a grand old time. He was laughing and bouncing without a care in the world. As I watched him, I felt a weight in my heart. A guilt. I wish I could have given him another sibling to play with. If we didn't have a child with disabilities, I know I would have had more children. 

But we do. And I don't. 

And that's quite ok. Knowing now what we didn't know almost 12 years ago (25% chance of having another child with You-Hoover-Fong), I know I wouldn't have spun the roulette wheel again. I wouldn't have chanced it. So God really knew what he was doing in the whole search for a diagnosis for David. Because of the long wait, I got me a Kyle. And I don't think I could ask for a more precious gift. 

*I feel as if I should just say that while Kyle is wonderful......he's still a preteen boy with lots of attitude and sometimes disrespect. LOL. Pretty much like every other preteen child. Which is actually a blessing. I could have a child much unlike the norm. And I'm super grateful for the opportunity and lack of sanity sometimes, to be raising a normal child.*

David Webb (18)

February 20, 2000

You made your debut in this world. In another country. To 2 very young parents. I had no idea what I was in for as a mother. But you showed me right away. My heart hurt because I loved you so much.

I loved you through all the struggles. I loved you through all the smiles. I loved you through the sleepless nights. I don't know how NOT to love you.

The last few birthdays have been tough for me. Sixteen was hard because it's such a noted birthday for most kids. And we didn't have those same experiences with you. Seventeen was harder because we almost lost you just a month prior to that day.

This year has been heart-wrenchingly difficult for me. And I know why. At eighteen, you become an adult. At eighteen, you graduate. At eighteen, you register to vote. And while all those things are very hard to not see you grasp (well-legally-you'll still be an adult), that's not what's so hard for me.

Eighteen puts you closer to age twenty. "A couple of decades". That damn time stamp that we were given as a possibility when you were three. And when you were ten. And when you were fifteen. And that's what's so hard. I know that it was the opinion of a couple of doctors who watched you fall ill easily and know what kinds of struggles you face. I know that it could be much much longer before we ever have to say goodbye.

But I never want to say goodbye.

I have literally been facing the fact that you might not be with me forever since I was twenty-four years old. I thought we'd just freeze time and not have to worry about it. Time didn't freeze. The years kept going. And so did you. You keep proving that you are a fighter of epic proportions. You want to live. You want to continue to show the world your heart. Your soul. Your smile. Your love. I want to continue to be able to share that with so many people who love you. And they do. We are so lucky to have so many people outside our family consider you to be a soul-changer for them. I have had so many people approach me to tell me this. I only wish you understood what you do for people.

You won't. You just won't. I wish you would.

I was never sure what I wanted to be when I "grew up". But now I know. I was meant to be a mother. Your mother. Kyle's mother. It is one of the few things I do well. And I love that "job" of mine. You changed me. You continue to change me. But one thing will never change. You are my child. You will always be my child on earth and in heaven.

No one likes an expiration date on life. No one should have to worry about that. But I will never give up on you. I will worry about you & continue to care for you as long as you are with me. One day God will need you back. It might be at age twenty. It could very well be at the age of fifty. The one for sure thing I know is that our hearts will always be connected. Our lives will always be entwined. Our love will never die. You are mine, and I am yours.

Happy Eighteenth Birthday, David Webb.

I love you.

Christmas

When I was growing up, Christmas was always a much anticipated time for my sister's and I. We tried to stay up late to catch Santa filling our stockings, woke up early to see what had been brought, we ALWAYS went to Christmas Eve service at our church (where we were always given an orange and some Wrigley's gum before we left). And we spent time with each other and our extended family.

Traditions change. Being married, you try to incorporate both spouse's traditions and in doing so, you create new traditions.

I love Christmas. I love the meaning behind it, the magic behind it, and the love behind it. It was a joy to watch Kyle wake up Christmas morning to see what Santa brought, see where the damn elf was hiding (thanks for buying that Mom......), and see his excitement for everything involved. David has never appreciated Christmas morning, known what Christmas was about, or cared to be involved in a long and exhausting day visiting with family. But we drag that silly teenager along with us for the ride anyway.

This year, Kyle knows. He knows who really brings the presents, who really moves the elf, and who doesn't come down a chimney. It's our first year of new traditions here. I'm a little sad. But in actuality, my life is a little easier because of that. Just simpler.

I would have been glad to leave the elf on the shelf this year. But Kyle insisted he wanted to move it. It's December 5th. The elf returned shortly after Thanksgiving and he has already forgotten to move it numerous times (maybe it'll make him appreciate how hard it was for us to remember). He's going to help me fill Michael & David's stockings this year to take to Grandma & Grandpa's Christmas morning. He helped me wrap a few gifts.

Looking back at all of these pictures........I see change.  We've moved the location of the tree several times. The kids have GROWN. A lot. We've lost dogs. Most of the big gifts in these pictures are no longer in our home. They've been outgrown and donated or trashed.

I also see consistency. I see gifts the kids need/want under the tree. I see excitement (yet sometimes sleepy) on Kyle's face. I see love.

And while the traditions have slightly changed, the people haven't. I see the same families in the pictures. I see the growth of adding new babies and new pups to our lives. I see cousins who love each other and use Christmas as a time to grow closer to each other.

As the years go on, we will see more change. More growth and probably more loss. But the love will remain the same.

I know that my kids haven't always had a "perfect" Christmas. I've forgotten gifts in the closet, bought things they already own, spent time in a hospital for the holidays with David, yelled at them for stupid stuff because by Christmas morning, every mother's patience has been lost and they just want their kids to LISTEN, wanted to nap instead of opening gifts, and many other seemingly unforgivable things.

But they've always had Christmas. Not perfect. But memorable. And loving. And magical. And enchanting. Some kiddos don't have those things. But mine do. And I feel so lucky.

This year will be more of the same. Imperfect, but perfect. Because we have each other. And we're making memories.


And yes. Right now we are the house on the street with half of our Christmas lights out. We're debating just letting it stay that way or just taking them down. Either way......it'll make a memory.