Christmas Traditions

This is the first year that our children are old enough to understand the concept of Santa, gift giving/receiving, and everything else that comes along with Christmas. Our children have spent the past few weeks extremely excited, and each Christmas tradition that we introduce to them is welcomed with awe and undivided attention. Leaving milk, cookies and carrots out for Santa and his reindeer is a tradition that both my husband and I remember from when we were little and it's something we have decided to carry on with our children. Creating new traditions for our family at this time of year is so exciting, especially since Christmas has always been my favorite time of year with endless possibilities: baking, crafts, visiting Santa, stories, family gatherings, gift giving...the list goes on and on.

 

My husband and I come from two very different backgrounds, though Christmas was a very big deal for both of our families (and still is). I never really thought about having to compromise when it came to carrying out Christmas traditions until after my first child was born. Some of the things that my husband did as a child during Christmas differ or contradict traditions that I am used to doing with my family, and vice versa. We managed to figure the major ones out pretty easily, and honestly the not so major ones have all been accepted with open arms. For example, as we were placing presents under the tree on Christmas Eve, my husband informed me that his Mom used to put the little presents in the tree. Cool! We filled the tree with all of the cards and small, light weight gifts that we received. It's fun and a great way to feel connected to our families to combine traditions that our parents created decades ago.

Sometimes, a select few of our extended family try to impose 'new' traditions that they have created on our family. I still don't really know how I feel about this, but so far we have welcomed every idea and suggestion with open arms, and our children seem indifferent. They don't know where the traditions are coming from, and the entire Christmas season is so overflowing with magic that it's nice to explore different ideas from different people. It's also nice that when behind closed doors, if something someone else thinks is a good idea for our family seems like too much work on a daily basis or just plain over-the-top for my style, I don't have to impose it on us. No one has to know!

So far, our new favorite family tradition is opening a present on Christmas Eve: new pj's for all! Merry Christmas!

That Day

I'll never forget the moment that I found out I would soon become a mother of two babies under the age of two. The day, I don't remember, but the moment. I still see it in flashes: Two solid lines on the stick when there only should have been one; my husband's supportive smile and loving arms; the tears, for my seven month old daughter and what this would mean for her; the tears, for what this meant for me and my family and this unborn bean inside of my womb. I wasn't ready. It was a complete, unexpected shock.

Seven months earlier, I was on bed rest. I was still 3 weeks away from my due date with my first pregnancy, I had high blood pressure and my baby wasn't measuring as large as she should be. I had severe preeclampsia. The next day, my doctor called me at 10am and told me I would be induced at the hospital at noon, admitted immediately because of my extremely high blood pressure and amounts of protein in my urine. It was scary but exciting: I hadn't done my research and didn't understand the potential complications. I just wanted to meet my daughter and I wouldn't let myself believe that anything would or could go wrong. By 10pm that night, I was having painful contractions, but I was only 3cm dilated and was told that I wouldn't be anywhere near delivery until well into the next day. I tried to sleep, but it was far off. Two hours later, I felt something SNAP inside of my stomach. It felt like an elastic band of pain, and when it snapped I had never felt pain like that. I screamed for a nurse and she quickly found that I was ready to push. It all happened so fast. Shortly later, my 5lb 5oz tiny daughter was born. She was ready: although she was fighting for air and had to be whisked away, after a few minutes of help she was beautiful and perfect. My body, however, wasn't so ready.

The next day, everything appeared to be going smoothly. My daughter, Grace, was latching well and we had bonded over night. It was time for her first bath. Her daddy and I stood by and watched attentively, and then suddenly there was a pool of blood below me on the floor. It took me a minute to register that it was coming from me. I walked back to my room and quietly went to the bathroom, when I felt a waterfall of blood pour from my legs. I was hemorrhaging. At that point, everything happened SO fast. I remember nurses everywhere, they were so calm and made me feel like everything happening was completely normal and no reason to worry. I remember my husband lifting his feet on to a chair as blood splashed to the floor like a river does after a winter breakup. I remember feeling so weak, and the nurses saying that they couldn't wait for a doctor's approval to give me meds because I was running out of time. I remember being terrified.

Seven months later, and here I was. I was alive. The meds that the nurses gave me worked. I stayed in the hospital longer than most new moms, and my once 5lb 5oz baby girl was thriving. I hadn't thought about having another baby because here I was, a first time mom, with a seven month old. I hadn't even begun to process the fear I had felt in the hospital that February morning, because I was too busy enjoying my new daughter. But there it was, in the form of two lines on a pregnancy test: the reality that I would have to face those fears again in less than nine months time.

Now, 2 years later, I have an amazing toddler who literally thinks she is a princess. She teaches us about patience, she makes us laugh hysterically, and she is smarter than most 1st graders. More importantly, she loves her little brother like he was sent here for her. All of my worries that she would have trouble adjusting were for naught. All of my worries that I would have trouble adjusting were also for naught. My second pregnancy went off without a hitch, as did delivery. My son was born a healthy 8lbs 5oz, a happy and funny ball of love from day one. And we were all meant to be together. My husband and my children: my family. They have taught me that everything happens for a reason, the good and the bad and the scary.

You know, you might be a mommy if...you learn the hard lessons of life from two toddlers.