Welcome to Elijahland

Peace and Light

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Wed, 15 May 2013 08:41:11 PDT

One year ago, we welcomed a sweet baby boy into our hearts and arms.

We named him Oliver Luke.

Oliver, meaning olive tree (a symbol of peace) and Luke, meaning light. He has certainly lived up to his name, bringing so much peace and light into our lives.

Oliver's birth healed me in many ways. I remember his first cry and how relieved I was to hear his sweet song of health (and how I cried too at the sound of it). For a long time after Elijah was born I could barely say the word "birth" without crying and being fraught with anxiety. Oliver has allowed me to celebrate birth again, a priceless gift.

The past year has flown by as they tend to when you have a baby in your arms and then on your hip and then walking through your house. It's been a gift to be able to observe typical development, to watch things just happen without my constant positioning and therapy and intervention. These boys of ours remind us that it's a miracle any of us make it to adulthood able to eat, walk, talk, or breathe. Every life, regardless of ability, is a miracle from God and we feel so blessed by the gifts God has given us.

Little brother Oliver is a goofy, sweet, affectionate, independent guy. He's been walking for about a month now and adores his big brother. He really is a light in our lives, full of silliness and a sense of humor.

A year ago I could hardly imagine what it would be like to have another child. Today, I cannot fathom a world without Oliver in it.

Happy first birthday, Oliver. Mom, Dad, and Elijah love you so much.

Yes (No)

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Mon, 13 May 2013 21:05:44 PDT

Communicating with Elijah is hard. That is probably an understatement.

A five and half year old who has no words is a child who gets frustrated a lot. And that's why Elijah's newest development is so ridiculously exciting. It opens up a whole new world of communication for all of us.

Elijah is starting to nod his head to tell us yes. And every once in a while he is shaking his head to tell us no.

It's pretty cool to be able to ask Elijah questions, stuff like...

"Did you have fun at school?" Elijah nods.

"Are you all done with supper?" Elijah nods.

"Do you want to go home?" Elijah nods.

"Do you want to listen to a different CD?" Elijah nods.

It's not perfect. There are times we'll ask Eli questions and he'll do nothing at all. And there are times when I think he means no - even when he nods yes. Sometimes we have to phrase the questions in a very specific manner, otherwise he seems confused. And at this point we can only ask him questions that we think the answer will be yes, as his no is emerging slowly and doesn't happen often.

I have had a few glimpses into what it would be like to have a yes/no conversation with Elijah and wanted to share them...

One time I was trying to take pictures of the boys (the pictures in this post). Oliver wiggled his way out of the chair, so I continued to take Elijah's picture. In an attempt to get Eli to smile, I asked him if he wanted me to sing the train song. He very appropriately shook his head no.

"Elijah, do you want me to take more pictures of you?" He nodded. Yes, he wanted more pictures, something I was more than happy to oblige.

And then yesterday, we had a little get-together for Oliver's first birthday (he'll be one this week!). That night after supper after all the guests were gone, Elijah came over to me at the dinner table and climbed in my lap. He was acting like he wanted to eat more (that kid is perpetually hungry). I asked him if he wanted a chip. He shook his head no. That one surprised me because he loves the crunch of a chip and I've never known him to turn one down.

So we asked a follow-up question: "Do you want a cupcake?" He nodded. Of course! He wanted the cupcake we had promised him earlier in the day.

We've got a ways to go before we'll be able to ask Elijah any yes/no question and expect an accurate (what he actually means) response. But, for now, it's pretty incredible to be able to get him to answer yes for many questions on a daily basis. And I'm happy about the no's that are few and far between.

I'm looking forward to the yes/no conversations we will have in the future and the things we will learn about him in the process. Am I excited? Oh, YES!

Enough

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 07 May 2013 08:26:03 PDT

In an attempt to organize my house, I've been rummaging through drawers I haven't looked in for awhile. I suppose the fact that Oliver digs through everything and tries to eat anything he can get his hands on is forcing me to try to organize our life more (and move almost everything we own out of reach).

The other day, I pulled out some letters I'd written long ago when Elijah was probably two-years-old. The letters were carefully drawn on 8 1/2 by 11 inch card stock, the lines straight and curved and drawn in black permanent marker. Upper case on one side and lowercase on the other, I'd placed all 26 letters into sheet protecters.

When I saw the letters sitting forgotten in the drawer, I cried.

I remembered writing them out and then subsequently trying to teach Elijah the alphabet. I'd sit down with toddler Elijah, excited to teach him and he wouldn't look. He'd stay with me for mere seconds and then struggle to get away to go do something else.

You tried to teach him his letters and failed, the letters said to me.

The weight of that failure suffocates me in that moment, the forgotten letters taunting me. "Have I done enough?" I will ask myself. The word will repeat often in my head. Enough. Enough. Enough. Have I done enough? Am I doing enough?

I will think of all the times I could've worked on Elijah's self-feeding, but didn't. The times I sat silent instead of talking to him. The times I could have shoved carefully written letters in his face. The times I could have done more.

The older Elijah gets the more I realize that is simply impossible to have done enough. Nothing will be enough. Nothing we do will make his brain injury disappear, as hard as we try to help him overcome his challenges. I'm not superwoman. I'm not God. I can't heal a hurt brain.

For the past almost three years, Elijah has done approximately 25-30 hours of ABA therapy a week. He has school. He also does extra occupational and speech therapy. We just started music therapy. We're looking into doing hippotherapy with him (the therapeutic use of horses). It's a full-time schedule. It is more than enough.

And then I wonder if we are doing enough of the right thing. Perhaps we should be doing something else. Enough. Too much? Enough. We can only do so much; it's never enough.

And so, as the years pass, the more I realize that we need to live our lives. It's okay that I let ABA therapists do the bulk of therapy. I'm very involved in his therapy and what it looks like of course, but it's okay to just be mom sometimes. It's okay.

We love Elijah fiercely. We work with him when we can. We keep him busy learning in therapy. We rough house and throw him on the couch. We run outside. We kiss and hug (when he'll let us). We feed him and continue to encourage him to feed himself. We dance. We try our best. We accept Elijah for who he is. And it is enough. It is.

One Bite at a Time

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 20:10:59 PST

Oh, the coordination involved in feeding oneself!

Most of us don't think about all of the movements involved in getting food from the table to our tummies (sometimes I wish I gave it more thought, but that's a story for another day!). We move our hands, our arms, our tongue, our lips. It truly is a full body experience. It's difficult for Elijah to move his arms, to use his hands and to control his mouth and tongue; it is difficult for Elijah to eat.

We've had an amazing occupational therapist coming to our house to help Elijah with his oral motor and fine motor skills during lunch once a week for about the past year. He has improved so much in that time.

On Wednesday Elijah fed most of his lunch to himself in occupational therapy and we were beyond proud. His OT and I sat there with mouths dropped open and eyes beaming. He was doing it.

The problem is, Elijah often won't do things for me that he will do for therapists. It's understandable because I'm his mom. Would you want to do something incredibly hard in order to eat if you were super hungry? Yeah, me neither. Especially when you know that the people who love you most won't let you starve.

Tonight, I offered Elijah his fork and he so politely handed it back to me (that's a change too, in the past it would have been tossed to the floor). I decided to make a deal with our boy.

"Elijah, mommy will feed you two bites and then you need to at least try to take a bite on your own," I told him. I talked about how grown up he is getting.

And so I fed him. And so Elijah also fed himself.

This is a big deal. Not only because he fed himself, but because he clearly understood me. I've been noticing this a lot more lately. He grumbled at me at first, continued to give me back the fork and whined that I was making him try when for so long now we've just fed him. In the past, me trying to get Elijah to feed himself would often escalate into full blown fury. I had to be careful how I approached self-feeding or mealtimes would be miserable (and they often are anyway for other issues). A little whining is a step in the right direction.

I'm well aware that we have a long way to go until he's completely independent in the feeding department and that there will be days when he completely needs our help. Some foods he simply can't do on his own and that's okay. Even a few bites is a big deal, especially since he did it for me and not someone else. A BIG DEAL. He's doing it and we'll keep pushing.

Getting the fork to his mouth

Great lip closure on his fork!

Lips closed and chewing

I may have shed a few happy tears tonight during supper. I am so not going on his dates with him.

Oh, and little brother is learning to eat too!

Two Sleds: Firsts in the Snow

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 12:20:41 PST

Winter was my favorite season as a kid. It's not really my favorite season anymore (driving and bundling up kids and dealing with car-seats, need I say more?), but there is something so magical about the first big snow of the season - and something amazing about watching our kids experiencing it.

Elijah wasn't up for posing for a picture

We got over a foot of snow on the 9th of December and we were so excited to take the boys out into our backyard winter wonderland.

Elijah remembered the fun times he's had in previous winters and was excited go sledding down our hill.

For Oliver, this was his first experience with snow and cold. He had a serious look on his face the entire time we were outside; when I would ask him about the snow he would give me a big smile. I think he apprehensively approved.

They were having fun, really!

A happy first for Eli this year, too. He got to the bottom of the hill sledding with dad and signed "more" for more sledding. We're so proud that he is communicating with us more and that he's using his skills in various locales.

Oh, that face!

When we were done playing outside, our cheeks and noses were quite red and cold.

Two sleds

Our hearts were warm and full; two boys playing in the snow this year, both experiencing firsts of their own.

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Want to read about previous winters?

Last year (2011/2012): Leaping in the Snow

2010/2011: Snow Day 2010

2009/2010: Snow Day 2009

2007-2009: Memories of Cold Weather Days

Beautiful Chaos

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 20:15:23 PST

When I think of our life with our two boys, two words often repeat in my head: beautiful chaos.

Handsome firstborn

There are the moments where I still cry over what happened to our sweet Elijah; his difficulties evermore present now that I watch what typical development looks like on a daily basis. It's a constant guessing game as to what Elijah is trying to tell us and I grieve for him again and again (especially when he cries inexplicably). Is he hurt? Does he want something? Or even: Did he break a bone that I don't know about? How would I handle all that he does? How could I survive without being able to share my thoughts and feelings (as I am doing right now on this blog)? The laundry piles up on the couch, the dishes lay in the sink, the little guy gets new teeth and army crawls across the floor. Chaos.

Cute second-born

And then there's the times when Elijah throws his body on my shoulder for an armless hug and we embrace for a long time. Or the four of us roll around on the floor as a family and laugh and play. Or we sing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" after Elijah asks with the sign I taught him (even though I've had enough of the song for five lifetimes). Or I place our wind-up train on the floor and Elijah runs and laughs his head off as Oliver watches his brother and laughs too (all while I try to teach Elijah the sign for "train"). Or we sit at the dinner table and Elijah doesn't cry and Oliver is just learning to eat and we're therefore all eating together. Beautiful.

This is our life. It's a sometimes difficult one, fraught with grief and constant motion. Chaos.

It's a charmed one, filled with a gal and her three guys. Oh, sweet blessings. Always a boy to snuggle, as busy as they are. Beautiful.

Beautiful Chaos, indeed.

---

I know it's been awhile again and I thought I should let those who still read this blog know that we're still alive.

I Would Change It

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 07:41:20 PDT

I've heard the question posed at times: Would you change/take away your child's diagnosis if you could?

People fit into two camps on this one, of course. Yes (take it away!) or no (I wouldn't want to change my child and the path we're on).

Me? I'm in the resounding yes category. That doesn't mean I don't love and accept my child for exactly who he is, but if I could change things I definitely would. And it doesn't mean I don't understand why someone might answer the question with a no; I'm well aware that we would be different people without cerebral palsy in our lives. That's both a good thing (we have more compassion) and a bad thing (we struggle daily).

A couple of mornings ago, Elijah woke up early (before six). Andy let Eli out of his room and we let the little guy run around upstairs for a bit as we tried to convince ourselves that it was indeed morning. About ten minutes had passed when Andy got out of bed and that's when Andy noticed something on Elijah's face. Oh, Eli must have gotten into some of Lisa's make-up, Andy thought and he wiped off Elijah's face.
Except it wasn't make-up, it was a raw wound. Somehow Elijah had injured himself in that span of time and we had no idea how or where.

But how? How? How? How? How?

The question has been repeating over and over in my head for the past two days. I examined our room, trying to enact any possible scenario that could've caused his injury. We hadn't heard him fall, he hadn't made a peep or cried. The last two days I struggled with guilt (how is it that our child hurt himself and we didn't know it?!) and grief (our child is unable to tell us what happened).

Every time I looked at Eli I was reminded...he's hurt and he can't tell us how by talking or pointing. His wound looked almost like a burn. What if we're missing something? I kept wondering. What if it happens again?

And it did happen again. This morning Andy heard Elijah wake up and he went to let Elijah out of his room.

"Lisa," Andy said, waking me. "Come here. Look what happened."

Standing next to his dad in the hallway was Elijah, his face covered in blood, his eyes still squinting from sleeping.

"What in the world?" I said and glanced towards Elijah's room. There was blood all over the carpet next to his door. We had thought Elijah's wound looked like a carpet burn, but I couldn't have imagined that he had been harming himself like this.

The first day, before he re-opened it this morning

We think he got up in the middle of the night, made his way to the door to leave, but being tired laid down on floor next to the door and put himself back to sleep by rocking and rubbing his face on the carpet. He hadn't hurt himself in those ten minutes the other morning, but rather in the night. We couldn't have known, couldn't have protected him from this unknown danger.

I'm glad we have an answer finally as to what caused Elijah's injury. It's not what I had expected, although, I can't say either of us are really surprised. Being able to appreciate pain is such a blessing; Eli had no idea that he was even hurting himself.

So, would I change Elijah's diagnosis if I could? You betcha. I would sign up for healing today. Today, Lord?

In the Rocking Chair: A Tale of Two Brothers

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Thu, 27 Sep 2012 19:50:27 PDT

Playing together

Sitting in the rocking swivel recliner where I spend so much of my time nursing Oliver, Elijah often comes over and looks at us.

Sometimes he walks away, having been told many times already that "mommy is feeding Oliver right now, I'll be able to help you soon."

Sometimes Elijah wants to watch TV, the same first minute of Yo Gabba Gabba over and over and over again.

Sometimes he wants me play basketball with him; surely I can multitask.

Sometimes I will be rocking Oliver and shushing him to sleep. Elijah will come over and smile at us, his body blocking my ability to rock. A few times he's even crawled into the chair with us and I rock and hold both boys while I think about how ridiculously blessed we are, all the while trying to protect Oliver from his brother's long legs.

And for the past month or so, little Oliver will watch his big brother with great interest. Weeks ago, sitting in my lap, with my hand under his chin, little Oliver smiled at his brother for one of the very first times.

My eyes filled with tears.

I cried because it was so very sweet.

I cried for Elijah because he was unable to notice his little brother's smile.

And I cried for Oliver because his big brother was unable to respond.

And this is the truth I knew long before Oliver was ever in my belly: parenting our two children is going to be bittersweet. Thankfully, the sweetness overrides the bitter so much so that we usually can't even taste the bitter.

Since that emotional moment in the rocking chair a month ago, Oliver and Elijah have shared many smiles. I'll place Oliver right in front of his brother's face and they smile at each other. It's pretty spectacular and the cutest thing ever. They love each other.

......

...And then Elijah employs his "no thank you" gesture, which is a push away, and tells us that he's done with his brother being in his face and pushes his brother away.

Oh, brother. This is going to be an interesting ride indeed.

Remembering (Grief and Joy)

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 11 Sep 2012 20:11:37 PDT

September 11, 2001. Andy and I had been dating for less than a year. Both of us were attending the same college and that semester I didn't have any classes on Tuesday mornings. The night before the attacks, Andy and I had stayed up late having an in-depth conversation about bible prophecy. When planes were used as weapons eleven years ago, I was sleeping.

"Do you remember what we were talking about last night?," Andy asked after waking me with his call. He was at work. "A plane just hit the pentagon. Go turn on the TV."

Still waking up from my slumber, I floated downstairs and turned on the television. I'm sure we stayed on the phone for awhile, but I don't remember. I sat in shock as I watched the Twin Towers collapse before my eyes. They played the footage over and over and I watched it over and over, glued and unable to leave. What does it mean? I wondered. I called family members just so that I could hear their voices.
---
It's hard to believe that it's been eleven years since that day. I think about how much has changed since then. I'm married; we have two sons. Our country is different. The same, but scarred.

In some ways, I'm like that. Scarred, but still me.

September 11, 2011. One year ago today, Andy, Elijah and I went swimming at a local lake. It was unseasonably warm. I kept thinking about how it was the tenth anniversary of 9/11 and how we were still living our lives. Maybe it seems cheesy, but I thought about how we were swimming in honor of those who couldn't; we were living our lives to the fullest.

That evening, I took a pregnancy test and we found out we were expecting a little baby, our Oliver Luke. We were so excited and for awhile it was our big, wonderful secret. Immeasurable joy.

September 11, 2012. Today was Elijah's first day back at school. This is his third year of preschool and he was ready to go back. Our boy is growing up.

And this is life: full of grief and love and joy. We remember and we keep on moving, putting one foot in front of the other, always looking up for direction and comfort and thankfulness.

This Day

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 04 Sep 2012 20:39:54 PDT

Five years ago today we took Elijah home from the NICU. It was one of the best days ever.

Yes, I share this photo every year

As I sat on our chocolate brown couch clutching our three week old baby, I thought (hoped) our journey had ended. I didn't quite realize that our journey had just begun. Our world would soon be immersed in therapies and we would begin to collect diagnoses, one of which is cerebral palsy (CP).

Today, the anniversary of Elijah's NICU homecoming, is World Cerebral Palsy Day. Seems fitting, doesn't it?

I thought I'd share two things for you to peruse in honor of this day:

This post (by Ellen of Love that Max) in which she describes what CP isn't and also what it is.

This excellent video by an online support group friend, Rachel (her adorable son Cohen reminds me so much of Elijah!):

Five years ago we got our son. We also got CP. But CP certainly didn't get him.

Reluctant Celebrity

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 19:40:23 PDT

Incognito family at the State Fair

Last Fall we went to Texas. At the airport, I saw a lady standing about ten feet from us in the security line. She caught my attention because she seemed a little out of place. Dressed in black from head to toe, she was also wearing her sunglasses inside. Who does that? I thought.

I glanced at her and went back to tending to Elijah, who was jumping up and down. He would have run through the airport if I let go of his hand. The little girl in line ahead of us, pulling her rolling backpack just like her mommy's, was staring at Elijah as I tried to manage our boy and my bag.

Just then my mom leaned over and said, "Hey, that's Diane Sawyer." I glanced back at the woman in black and realized that it was indeed the news anchor.

As I grabbed my shoes to place them back on my feet, the TSA agents were chatting with each other.

"Oh, she tries to be all inconspicuous, but we know who she is," one said.

"Diane Sawyer, right?" I said with a sly smile, even though they weren't talking to me.

"See!" one of the TSA agents responded. "She noticed her. Oh, some celebrities come through and want everyone to notice them, but she tries to be subtle. We still know who she is, though."

"I wouldn't want to be a celebrity," I told them as we gathered our things from the security checkpoint and we all pondered the lives of the famous.

Back home after our trip, Andy, Elijah and I went to the grocery store to replenish our refrigerator after being gone for two weeks.

As we perused some things and Elijah jumped up and down while holding my hand, I could sense an older gentleman standing nearby staring at our son. Just when I was about to say something (because he was kind of freaking me out) the man said, "I have a grandson with problems." His voice and face were full of melancholy. I honestly didn't know what to say. Obviously, Elijah must have reminded him of his grandson and brought up sad feelings, but I wasn't so fond of how he handled approaching us - by staring and standing super close (and generally creeping me out). I think I said, "Oh," smiled at him and we all went on our way. He didn't offer up any more conversation and neither did we.

Sometimes I think I know how it feels to be famous; it feels like there are eyes on us wherever we go. Often they are happy eyes, as I hold our son's hand and he bounces down the sidewalk like Tigger with a huge smile on his face. Most people smile back. That's when I don't mind that people notice us.

When we're met with blank stares or pity or just general disgust, I kind of hate standing out from the crowd (oh, I notice). I understand wanting to be inconspicuous, to just blend in with everyone else, to be able to go to a grocery store (or an airport) and to be able to melt into the background.

I think our little family gets, at least to a tiny degree, what it's like to be famous. Sometimes it'd be nice to throw on some black clothes and some sunglasses and go incognito. I get it, Diane Sawyer. Sometimes, you just don't want all of those eyes on you.

They Fit

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Wed, 22 Aug 2012 13:37:52 PDT

His chubby little body fits so perfectly on mine, his head tucked under my chin, his arms splayed around me. Snuggling. His head pops up and falls back down again, furiously, as he tries to get comfortable on my shoulder. He rubs his face back and forth, back and forth on my shirt. His breathing is fast and then slow and he squeaks in his sleep. I rub my face on his fuzzy brown hair and wonder why my hair can't be that soft, my skin as perfect. We just fit, my Oliver and me.

Elijah tackles me in the living room. We're enjoying being able to rough house again now that I'm no longer pregnant and not recovering from surgery. His body is stiff and large and I pick him up and roll with him on the floor. I cover him in kisses and he giggles and tries to get away. And then, he throws his body on mine, his arms dangling at his sides, and I exaggeratedly fall to the ground. "You got me," I say and we roll and laugh as his legs extend long and straight. We just fit, my Elijah and me.

Our boys. Our worries for them, holding them, parenting them - it's all been so different. And, yet, it's been so much the same. We love them both so, so much. They fit in our arms and our family so perfectly.

Five

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 14 Aug 2012 08:16:05 PDT

Our firstborn is five years old today.

Half a decade; it seems like a long time.

Time goes by so fast and our boy is growing up.

When I reflect on the past five years, I see how far Elijah has come. I see how far we've all come as a family.

Birthdays for Elijah will probably always be bittersweet for me. The day of his birth was also the day of his injury. It was the day that our son's life was forever altered. My memories of that day are painful to say the least.

Perhaps knowing what a birth is supposed to feel like now doesn't make it easier. So, so much was stolen from Elijah (and us).

But, Elijah's birthday is just one day in a span of days. And while there is definitely sadness about that day, it's also one of the best days ever. It's the day we got Elijah (I was going to say it was the day we met Elijah, but I didn't get to meet my son on his day of birth. I thought as the years past, I wouldn't think of these things as much, but the bitterness is still there. I am not yet able to just remember the good things (perhaps when Eli is ten)).

It's not about me, though. Today is about Elijah. It's about the fact that he's here with us, alive and thriving. It's about today, not about five years ago. He's pretty awesome and we know it. Truly, that is all that really matters.

Happy Birthday to our sweet five-year old! You have brought us so much joy, Elijah. You made us parents and have taken us on a wild ride. We are so, so blessed to call you our son - you with your love of music (especially the Beatles!), your climbing antics, your love of appliances, your affection for your little brother (you especially love it when he cries), your love of eating (even if it is hard for you), and your amazing smile. You, our little boy, are one incredible little dude. We never forget what a miracle you are and how God has enriched us and blessed us by giving us you. You amaze us every single day and we love you more than words can say.

*Pictures are from Elijah's birthday party this past Sunday*

Lovely Day

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Fri, 06 Jul 2012 20:06:40 PDT

We enjoyed a lovely low-key Independence Day.

The first pic of just me and my boys

I made the boys dress in red white and blue. Because I can, that's why.

Had to include this one for Oliver's expression (...melt)

We let Elijah hold his little brother. Or, more accurately, I held Oliver next to Elijah.

Elijah was very interested in his little brother.

Oliver, on the other hand, just seemed worried about the whole deal.

We took the boys out for lunch and went shopping. And then Eli went swimming. It was a HOT day.

Elijah's favorite guy was by his side too.

Before bed, Eli and daddy lit some sparklers while I watched from inside while Oliver filled his belly.

Yes, it was a lovely Independence Day. What a blessing! I hope all you Elijah-fans had a lovely day as well.

I Can Do This

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Wed, 13 Jun 2012 16:22:48 PDT

As I stood at the sink, the smell of lime and sea salt dish detergent filled my nostrils. "I can do this thing," I thought. Elijah, standing beside me, was doing his best to help with the dishes. This basically meant he tried at every possible opportunity to get his hands in the sink and send water splashing to the ceiling in a fountain of gargantuan proportions.

Here we stood for awhile, a mother and son. I can do this.

Three pans left to wash and the sweet sound of a little one's cries filled the air. Oliver had awoken from his slumber in his pack n' play in the adjacent room.

I let the water out of the sink lest Elijah washed the dishes without me, causing my cottage cheese ceiling to crumble. "Oh, Oliver is upset," I said to Elijah and I left my spot at the sink to comfort my youngest son while my eldest followed close behind. "Should we change his diaper?" I asked Elijah as I grabbed a diaper and wipes. Elijah stood at the edge of the pack n' play with a sly smirk on his face watching his little brother. I can do this, I thought again.

Oliver was now clean and happy so I crouched down to Elijah's level and held little Oliver next to his big brother's face. Elijah leaned over and gave his baby brother a big sloppy kiss. My heart swelled so that it no longer fit in my chest and I thought, I'm doing this.

It was noon and the three of us headed to the kitchen. I gave Elijah two choices for lunch. Holding each item in front of Elijah while juggling a baby, I asked, "Do you want chicken nuggets or a turkey sandwich?" Elijah looked at both boxes, smiled and slapped the chicken nuggets box. "Chicken nuggets?" I said, "Of course, chicken nuggets, what else would it be?"

While prepping Eli's lunch, Oliver started to fuss and tried to latch onto my face. I had two hungry boys on my hands. How in the world am I going to do this?

I helped Elijah get into his chair with my one free hand and made sure we had all of our necessary lunch items ready on the table. "You're the big brother, Elijah. Oliver is hungry too, so I need you to be patient and wait while I take care of your little brother," I said. Elijah, who is not known for his patience, sat in his chair and waited with a smile on his face, occasionally peering at the baby in my arms. I started nursing Oliver and then feeding Elijah with my free hand. "Nuggets, cherries, or coconut milk?" I asked, giving Elijah the choices that help him feel like he is in control of his own destiny, therefore reducing his temper tantrums. "Milk? Okay," I said and I tip the cup so that milk pours into his mouth, my pinky finger giving his chin support. This isn't easy, but I really am doing this.

Parenting two kids, one with special needs? I've got this. I think...

Edited to add: This was one of the first times I was left alone with the boys. I've been fortunate in that I've had a lot of help this first month, but now Andy is back at work.

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I'm linking to Just Write, where we're encouraged to...just write.

We Missed This

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 05 Jun 2012 20:19:01 PDT

Little chunk already weighs over 11 lbs.

As we've been enjoying getting to know our second-born, one thought keeps running through my mind:

We missed this.

Oliver is three weeks old today. 21 days. A blink in time and a lifetime, it seems.

When Elijah was this exact age, we were finally able to take him home from the hospital. These first weeks of Oliver's life have been filled with thoughts on what we were doing with Elijah at the very same age...

At three days old we hadn't held Elijah yet. We missed this snuggle time.
Elijah was still on a ventilator at seven days. We missed the sound of sweet baby breaths.
It took two weeks for Eli's voice to fill our ears. We missed these cries.
Elijah wasn't home with us yet. We missed this time together.

I didn't truly know what we had missed until now... we've gotten to experience what it's like to have a newborn at home within days, I now know what it's like to see our child at birth, to hold and nurse our baby as soon as possible, and to have a positive birth experience. These are things we missed with Elijah. And, yes, I grieve for him all over again.

More than grief, though, is an overriding joy. I have looked at our newborn mesmerized by his sweetness and cried tears of joy. We are so blessed. Blessed to have Oliver home with us. Blessed that Elijah is alive and well. What has often been the case since Elijah's difficult birth is this - we don't, we can't - take things for granted. I've appreciated these experiences with Oliver so much more than I would have had we not gone through Elijah's first weeks. That in of itself is a blessing. There is pain in the memories as I grieve our first-born's lost weeks, but more than anything there is a joy in the here and now.

Often times joy and grief are so intertwined that you can't see one without the other.

As our hearts heal, we appreciate that we are not missing this life we have now. It's a life filled with lots of kisses for two boys that we love intensely and deeply. Looking back at what we've lost just makes us more determined to not miss a second of this amazing life.

Not missing a single moment

Adjusting...

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Fri, 25 May 2012 15:42:57 PDT

Have you wondered how Elijah is adjusting to sharing his parents with a little brother?

For the most part, his reaction has been to ignore his brother entirely. I mean, what exactly can a baby do for him?

I was so pleased, though, that when we returned from the hospital Elijah immediately acknowledged his brother (shown in these photos). Elijah was in the middle of his snack when I brought Oliver over to see his big brother. Elijah put his forehead on Oliver, which is a sign of affection on Elijah's part.

I can tell Elijah loves his little brother in his own way. And while he hasn't shown much interest in his little brother since that moment, he will sometimes come over to observe his little brother's screaming diaper changes with great interest.

I'm looking forward to watching their relationship evolve in the years to come.

The Big 3-0

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Mon, 21 May 2012 19:25:24 PDT

Happy 30th Birthday to the daddy here in Elijahland.

He got a really awesome gift this year.

He is an amazing dad to our two boys.

We are so blessed.

A Family of Four

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Wed, 16 May 2012 20:11:15 PDT

The night before

Yesterday, May 15th, our family of three became a family of four.

Oliver Luke Wagner was born at 7:58 am, weighing in at 9 pounds and 2 ounces. He was 21.5 inches long.

Moments after birth; he's a big guy!

The delivery was beautiful and peaceful.

Meeting our second born

Elijah met his brother yesterday (he's in the capable care of his Uncle Andy and Aunt Karen in our absence). Elijah looked at Oliver a few times, but didn't seem to know what to think about his new brother. I'm interested to see how he'll react in the weeks to come as we all fall into new routines at home.

First family photo

My recovery is coming along great so far and I can say that this birth experience was about a million times better than the last time. I feel so at peace and happy. This is what a birth is supposed to feel like.

Oliver Luke; We're madly in love

Thank you all for your prayers and well-wishes. We're on cloud nine and feel so blessed to be a family of four. We have two incredible little boys that we get to call our own.

Yes, I'm Still Pregnant (and Other Updates)

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Mon, 14 May 2012 20:50:29 PDT

I'm Still Pregnant...for now
This pregnancy has gone by so very fast. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that this time around there is a little man named Elijah to keep me busy. And, I guess it's good news for me that I feel like this pregnancy has just flown by. I haven't had the time to sit around and ponder my state too much, which is a good thing since our last birth was not a pleasant experience (to say the least).

Today, I am 39 weeks pregnant. Tomorrow, on Tuesday, May 15th, I'll be giving birth to our second son via c-section. It's a little strange for me to know the date and time I'll be giving birth; it's so different from last time when we were waiting and wondering and waiting some more. I'm doing my best to focus on the meeting of our son and not so much on the fact that I'll be having surgery. All that really matters to me is that soon I'll be holding our son in my arms. I'm looking forward to laying my eyes on him and hearing him cry. These are not things I take for granted as I hate to wait for these things last time.

Elijah's Hand
In other news, Elijah's hand seems to be healing well. His middle finger is looking great. It's his ring finger, which had the biggest burn, which is taking longer to heal. He did end up having a 3rd degree burn on part of that finger, so we still need to keep his finger wrapped to avoid an infection. The 3rd degree part of Elijah's burn is in-between his joints which is a good thing in terms of mobility. We'll have to keep on eye on it to make sure it doesn't get too stiff as it heals and we'll have to keep it moist with lotion to try to minimize scarring.

But, despite a third degree burn, his finger seems to be healing really well.

So, that's what's been happening around here. We're waiting...for Elijah's hand to heal and for our next member of our family to join us. The good news is that the wait for both is not long at all.

I would certainly appreciate thoughts and prayers that all will go well tomorrow, that our newest little and I would have protection and that we'll both be super healthy. When you've had a terrible birth experience like we have had, it's hard not to remember the last time. Perhaps you could pray for some peace for me too. I've been having a lot of memories of Elijah's birth lately and that's not an easy thing to remember. Thanks!

Stay tuned for news of sweet baby boy's arrival!

No, Seriously, Never a Dull Moment

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 21:20:00 PDT

I've been lax about updating lately, I know. And, there's about a million other things I'd like to be updating you all about, but today I must let you know of our latest escapade with Elijah.

Pout unrelated to this particular story

On Wednesday morning, I got a call from Elijah's school letting me know he'd burnt his hand on a steam pipe they didn't realize was exposed. They said I needed to pick him up and that he probably needed to be seen by a doctor.

So I took him to the doctor immediately. Upon examining the wounds - which were on the back of the fingers on his right hand - the doctor said she thought it was a third degree burn. Then she told me it would probably leave a scar and that since it covered a joint, it was possible he would lose some mobility in his hand and the scarring could make his fingers tight and difficult to bend. I had been thinking the burn wasn't too serious up to this point, but when I heard the words "3rd degree" and "loss of mobility" my heart sunk.

When I got home, I broke down. How could there be yet another thing working against our sweet little man? The use of his hands is already difficult for Elijah and here I was being told that he could lose more mobility. Not to mention, it's his right hand -which just so happens to the hand that he uses the most.

The doctor did give me the number and address for the Burn Unit if we wanted to take a more aggressive approach, which could mean skin grafting or surgery. She left that decision up to me. Andy and I thought it would be best to get a second opinion and see if there was anything else we could do to prevent any long-term effects - from those who deal with burns all the time.

So today, Thursday, we went to the Burn Unit. And, thankfully, they had better news for us. They think Elijah's burn looks more like a second degree burn, that it won't affect his mobility, and that it probably won't scar (at least not too bad). They can't tell for sure because the blisters are still intact (we can't tell the depth of the burn until the blisters break, so there is still a chance that the burn is more serious), but it sounds like this hopefully won't be affecting Elijah long-term.

In the meantime, we need to keep Elijah's fingers clean and then be diligent about wrapping it once the blisters are broken to prevent infection. We'll see what the next couple of weeks bring, but we're hopeful that this will all be a distant memory soon.

First Day Ouchie Blisters

So, all in all, it's been an eventful couple of days. We're confident that everything is going to work out fine, but we'd be grateful if you'd send a prayer in little guy's direction. Elijah sure has been through a lot in his little life, but I don't know anyone with a better attitude and demeanor than our little man. He's been such a trooper and we're so, so proud.

The Case of the Missing Shoe

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 19:51:42 PDT

The other morning, Elijah and I were about to head out the door to go to school. As I walked to where we keep our shoes, I noticed that only one of my shoes was where I'd left them.

"Elijah, where is my shoe?," I asked a little amused and also a bit frustrated. We really needed to get going and I didn't have time for a shoe hunt.

Little man acted like he had no idea what I was talking about at all. I started walking around the house, looking in his usual hiding places. Recently, he's taken to throwing things over the safety gates in our house, but my shoe was no where to be found. I was confused.

Elijah doesn't really intentionally hide things at this point, it's more a matter of him picking things up and placing them elsewhere. So, where in the world could it be?

I slid on some pink flip-flops and started to get Elijah's shoes on his feet. We didn't have time for a shoe hunt. It was time to go.

Then it dawned on me...

The washing machine!

The day before I'd been teaching Elijah how to put laundry in the washing machine. It's not the first time I'd shown him how, but it was the first time he'd actually gotten some clothes in on his own. He loves to help me around the house so, so much.

Sure enough, the case of the missing shoe was solved.

A shoe in my washing machine totally made my day and gave me quite the laugh. We have a clever boy indeed.

Leaping in the Snow

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 21:28:47 PST

We finally got some snow here in Minnesota.

Sure, we've had a few inches here and there, but this has been a weird Winter for us. We've had very little precipitation and warm temps have caused our snow to melt quickly. It seemed like Winter never arrived.

Now, I'm not complaining, but I have missed the snow. So when we got dumped with snow last night and today, I was pretty thrilled. And when school, ABA, and occupational therapy were all cancelled I was pretty excited for a Snow Day!

It didn't take much convincing for Elijah to take a nap with me in the late morning. It's pretty nice to be able to snuggle with both of my boys, one in my arms and the other kicking in my belly.

We decided to wait until Andy got off from work to head outside. Elijah doesn't last too long in the cold and I wanted to share the Wintery-goodness with all of my boys.

I've been waiting all season for fun in the snow. Snow Day 2012 delivered.

Pretty awesome leap-day if you ask me.

Our Lobby Friend

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Thu, 23 Feb 2012 08:57:43 PST

Seriously, there really is never a dull moment around here.

Yesterday, Elijah had the staples from his head removed and then ABA therapy in the afternoon. Near the end of his therapy, his therapist brought Elijah to me and asked me to take his temperature. I did and it was over 100. Bummer. Therapy was obviously cancelled from that point and cancelled for today.

Last evening, Andy and I decided to take Elijah to Urgent Care. When he'd had his staples removed, they said to watch for a fever, a sign of infection. Elijah's nose has been stuffy for almost two weeks and we figured it wouldn't hurt to get him seen as soon as possible.

We took him in and found out he has an ear infection, his first in his four and a half years. Interestingly, he didn't have a fever at the clinic, which makes me wonder if our thermometer is inaccurate. Today, we're having a sick day together, wearing elastic pants and generally behaving as we usually do (a cold doesn't slow this kid down). Oh, and his head wound isn't infected and is looking great, by the way.

While we were waiting to be seen at Urgent Care, a guy in the lobby started to chat with us. He reminded me of my dad, if only for one reason - they both like to find strangers and carry on a conversation (hi dad!).

The guy told us that he drove truck for a living, how he'd driven all night, that he'd gotten only two hours of sleep, that his apartment wouldn't allow him to have a dish so he had cable which was "so stupid", that he'd gotten an extra hundred bucks to unload his trailer earlier that day.

I told him I hoped he'd get some sleep that night.

"Oh, yeah, I will. There's only one show I want to stay up for tonight," he said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"One Tree Hill," he replied.

He told us how he'd gotten hooked when he was living with someone who watched it.

Then he mentioned that the only other show he was hooked on was WWE wrestling.

Last night, I was flipping channels and saw that One Tree Hill was airing. I laughed. Imagining this rough and tumble WWE-fan truck driver sitting on his couch watching a show that is marketed towards the young and female struck me as so, so funny.

There's something admirable about a person who isn't ashamed to admit that they like something that might be embarrassing. Everyone needs a harmless guilty pleasure.

Good for you, lobby friend. I hope you enjoyed your show and slept well last night.

Impromptu Nap

elijahland@gmail.com (Lisa) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 09:04:11 PST

I was trying to eat a quick lunch before needing to head out for an Elijah doctor appointment. I'd eaten about half of my sandwich when I realized that Elijah was being much too quiet. I can usually keep an ear (if not always an eye) on him by listening to him play with his noisy toys. The house had become silent, which usually means trouble. Right?

I walked into the next room to find little man sleeping peacefully in the sunlight, something I remember doing as a kid. This is not the typical behavior from our active little guy. I stood and watched him for a moment, soaking in his cuteness and savoring the moment.

Love is an understatement.