True Love Waits.

 I wanna tell y'all a secret. It's not really a secret but it is very important. LOVE. YOUR. SPOUSE. Easy right? Seems like it should be. But do you?

I firmly believe that Kevin Dreaden is who I was put on this earth to find. My invisible string. My one true love. My only exception. My guy. And I also firmly believe he's crazy to have stayed. Let me explain. 

We've been together for 12 years. Married for 10. I have been so miserable with myself for these last 10 years that I never let him in. I pushed him away for so, so long. And he stayed. I've always had anxiety. My anxiety isn't a nervous, picky anxiety. It's mean and angry. It lashes out and hurts people I love the most. Hurt people hurt people. Misery loves company is a true statement. That's a hard realization to come to-realizing you're kind of an asshole. It was shocking and made perfect sense all at the same time.

I've done the "outside" work. Now, I'm working tirelessly on the inside. Figuring out why I'm anxious and why I was so unhappy. It's a myriad of things really. Things that aren't important. But it's working. I had a breakthrough a few months ago that I'm finally ready to share. It was late. Kids were asleep and he and I were just chatting and it all hit me at once. The tears, the epiphany, the extreme feelings of regret, and the most intense feeling of love I've ever felt. HE STAYED. I'm absolutely losing it. Snotty crying and incomprehensible. I ask him. "Why did you stay? I was so mean and horrible to you." He looked me dead in my eyes and said everything I've ever needed to hear. Something that I've needed for such a long time. And it was short, concise and to the point. And if you know Kevin, that's gonna be a little funny to you because he's always long winded and thorough. He said, "because I love you and I knew you'd get here."

He could've threw up a peace sign and bounced. I gave him every opportunity. I was so sad and so mean. So undeserving. But, that's when we need to be loved, and loved properly, the most. He saw what could be.

He's everything everyone deserves. What we are all searching for. All the descriptions of love in books and movies. He is all of that. It's more apparent every day that he and I were supposed to find each other. It was always meant to be him and me. It's this. Right now, that's what it's all about. This is what they're talking about when they speak about being "happy." 

I still have much work to do, but, I have all the support I could ever need in Kevin. I've had kind of a crisis of faith in the last couple years, but, I know there is a good Lord above us because of the grace I have been granted when I most certainly didn't deserve it. I really lost the weight when I figured out how to lose the weight of everyone else's expectations. And that, friends, is the real miracle. 

HE STAYED. So I will prove to him that he made the right decision for the rest of my days here. Love you all so much!

The Real MVP.

It's fall break. The weather is getting cooler. Post season baseball. The wildest college football season I've ever seen. The best time of year. Halloween is around the corner which means Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year are a blink in time away. 

We've had a great fall break. Time with Grammy and Nik Nik and several days at the beach! We were riding down the road last night after dinner and this conversation ensued. 

Noah: "MAMA! Need *what sounded like "turtles"*

Me: "You need turtles?"

Noah: *what sounded like something about a tree*

Me: "Buddy, I have no idea what you're saying..."

Kate: very matter of fact, "Mama, he said he needs his toiletries..."

Noah: very excited, "yes...toiletries!"

Me: to Kate, "you're the real MVP!" 

What would I do without this girl? I know alot of my updates are about how Noah is doing and what is happening with him. But, this girl deserves her own update. She's navigating big feelings and overcoming her anxieties. She is EXACTLY like me. Flips at the smallest inconvenience and loves with all she has. I have said this for as long as I can remember that I don't deserve her but I have to tell you. She's exactly what I NEED. She is kind, she is nurturing and most of all she is pure love. She always makes sure to tell everyone something nice. Just a little something to make somebody else feel good. She's everything we all need.

I've also been navigating some big feelings in recent months. I've recently begun therapy to get a handle on some inner feelings and have made some big realizations about myself. And sometimes I have a little break through and cry a bit. I know everyone has their feelings about whether or not parents should cry or show big emotions in front of their kids. But, I want her to know that it's ok to feel your feelings. After all, she is mine. And I've always been an emotional creature. And personally, I think it's important and will be better for her in the long run to tackle these feelings and emotions as a kid instead of a thirty-something adult. She needs good, strong coping mechanisms now. But let me tell you about this girl. She ALWAYS wipes my tears. It's never "why are you crying?" And it's always, "Mama, are you alright?" Her tender heart is my favorite thing about her. And there's something about being a child's favorite girl. She's healed parts of me I didn't even know were broken. And the best part of all of this is she doesn't even realize it. She doesn't realize how wonderful and special she is. A true gem in this world. I know there's a God because I seem Him in her every, single day and that my friends is what I'm most thankful for. 

Home Run Heroes

Today was the best day. Noah has been talking about playing baseball for YEARS. At least once a day asking for his own bat and his own helmet. Well, today his dream came true. There's a butcher in Spring Hill called Light Hill Meats. And my dad frequents there. They had some hats on display. Of course my dad inquired about them and they told him it was to support a special needs baseball league for special needs people of all ages called Home Run Heroes. It was like fate. He got me some contact information and I emailed the owner and commissioner of the league and within two days, Noah was on a team. 

We arrived in Thompsons Station. I was a little anxious about it. I never know how a new situation will play out. Will Noah's squeals and wandering be disruptive? Will his garbled speech make people uncomfortable? Will he laugh inappropriately? None of it mattered. Just a bunch of special needs families cheering on each other. We met Mr. Ben who’s the coach of the team Noah is on-The Reds. I introduced Noah to Mr. Ben and Noah gave a high five and looked in this man's eyes that he met for all of five seconds and said, "I love Mr. Ben." I wish y'all could've seen it. Ben smiled at Noah and all that anxiety that I was feeling just faded in an instant. Noah knows people. I don't know how or why but he does. He sees things that we can't.

It smelled like grass and new uniforms. Not too sunny, a bit of wind, perfect weather for baseball. Noah's smile was the brightest I've ever seen. And under my sunglasses, joy leaked from my eyes and streamed down my face. Finally. My boy could play baseball like he'd always wanted. No one snapped their heads in disgust at his squeal. Everyone waved back when he shouted, "HEY!" Everyone was kind and patient and let those kids play. They celebrated every hit and everyone got to run around the bases. They got unlimited pitches and unlimited civility. They didn't keep score but for one hour those kids were baseball MVPs. 

Each child was paired with a "buddy;" a player from a high school baseball team, so for one hour the family members could cheer and be fans. Something we all have longed to be. Those boys were precious. They talked to them like people and cheered for them just like a family member would. It was just as good for those boys as the kids. The patience they exuded was amazing to see. I hope they carry it with them for a while and are kind to people because of that experience. Noah was put on first base during defense. And his buddy talked to him the whole time. He was tall with blonde hair and kind eyes. I didn't even catch his name. But, I know his mama is proud of him. He showed my boy compassion and kindness. I wish I had introduced myself and told him thank you. I'm crying as I'm even typing this. So where ever you are, "buddy", I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Noah laughed and ran and played with JOY, giggling with every ball he threw to the pitcher. I played ball in a million games. In the rain. In the sunlight. And I think a time or two while it flurried snow. But, this was my FAVORITE game I've ever watched. Something I took for granted so many times, was priceless today. Just a boy who loves baseball. You know they say you should never meet your hero because you'll be disappointed. Well my hero plays on the Light Hill Meats Reds and wears number eleven. 

If you're reading this and want to come to a game, he'll play in two more games. May 5 and May 26. Games are at 1PM in Thompsons Station. We'd love to see you there. Reach out to me and I'll get you the address. 

The Hardest Part

Hello friends. Welcome back. For those of you that are new here, I'll recap. I am Nikki. Wife, Autism Mom, Neuro-typical Mom, Nurse, Braves Fanatic, Dawg4Life, and mostly I'm just doing the best I can. Lots have changed since we were last together. I FINALLY went back to school and got that RN that I've been dreaming of for almost 15 years. Got a new job which I love. The best coworkers anyone could ask for with similar backgrounds and I truly feel that I finally belong somewhere. Now to the good stuff....

If you are unaware, I am an Autism mom. My sweet, angel baby Noah is thirteen and is on the Autism Spectrum. Diagnosed just shy of his third birthday so we are over ten years in. People often say to me, "I don't know how you do it." It's simple really. What other choice do I have? He is a bright spot on a cloudy day. Full of love and giggles and cheese bread. My gentle giant. My big bear hug when I've had a long day. My lover of Taylor Swift. My purpose. He truly saved my life. And gave me something I could never repay. Parents are supposed to be teaching their kids all these life lessons. He's taught me more than I could ever teach him. He's taught me about true acceptance. He's taught me about unconditional love. He's taught me to revel in the victories, no matter how small. 

In the last few months, I've come to get to know a precious adult with Autism. He's kind and gives great hugs and smiles so big when he sees me. I know people on the spectrum can come on strong. That's their way sometimes. But, I swear to you, it's kinda like looking into the future. A tiny glimpse as to what Noah's future holds. Their similarities are astounding. I look forward to the days I know I'll get to see him. I really think I was supposed to get to know this man and God really takes care of us in that way. In His timing.

For me, the hardest part of all this is the unknown. When you have children, your brain paints a picture. It's truly beautiful. They start school, play sports or act in plays or play in the band, learn to drive, go to the prom, go to college, get married, and have their own children. You're picturing it, aren't you? Is it beautiful? I know it is. I pictured it, too. And on August 5, 2013, my painting turned to gray. And that's ok! It's so hard, but it's ok. Noah is growing and thriving and I am truly grateful for everyone we've met on our journey that had a hand in his growth. But I mourned all those things. And that's the best advice I can give to newly diagnosed families. You have to mourn. If you don't, you cannot be the best for your children. I'm absolutely not saying that Noah will never go to the prom or move out but he'll never drive a car because he has no sense of danger. I'll drive him around happily until I am no longer able. But, the unknown is so anxiety inducing. No amount of preparation makes it better.

I worry everyday what will happen to Noah when I die. It's just something that comes along with this. And something I don't think is talked about enough. I'm basically raising his caregiver. And then I feel more guilt and anxiety because that's a lot to ask of someone. But Kate is resilient and I know in my heart she'd move mountains for her brother and to be honest that helps me sleep at night. Their relationship is beautiful to watch. It's so pure and precious.

I often pretend to be busy and just listen in on them. She's always quizzing him. "Noah, yes or no, do you want to watch a movie?" Even talking in a way to give him the words to say. She is truly wiser than seven years old. They sit at the kitchen table watching videos and she's asking him, "Noah, can you say monkey." And he says "monkey." We call her the "Speech Therapist." She taught him to talk. It wasn't me. It was Kate. She exceeds my expectations of what siblings can be for each other daily. And that's what I'm most thankful for. 

My sweet Noah I hope you always shout out "HEY!" and wave to people. I hope you always walk into a room asking about a pizza tomorrow. I hope you always lay in the bed with me and Kate and watch Disney movies alternating who gets to choose. I hope you yell, "I love....." in reference to whoever we are talking about. I hope you keep getting more independent. I hope you always want to FaceTime. I hope you always shout what song you want to hear when we all get in the car. I hope you always sit your chair close to the entrance of the ball field so you can greet everyone. I hope you always greet me at the top of stairs when you hear the garage door open. I hope you always ask to go see the Braves and yell "I love baseball" every summer. I hope you always cuddle your puppies and give treats. I hope you always teach people to love. Because you do. Everyday. I am better because of you. If I am anything, it is because I am your Mama. You bring out the best version of me. Even though the hardest part is really hard, the best parts are even better because you shine so bright. I hope you always shine so bright my sweet Noah.

The Bottom of the List

Well friends, 2019 is almost done. What a year! This year was about self reflection and bettering myself. I definitely want to be a better wife, sister, daughter, friend, etc, etc, etc...but most of all I want to be a better MOM!

I have always been the type of human to over process and over analyze everything. You name it. I overthink it. All of it. So naturally when I found out I was pregnant with Noah, I went right to wondering if I’d be a good mama, but all women do that. Then when we got our Autism diagnosis, it was a spiral! Will he talk? Will he... won’t he... so many thoughts. It’s amazing to me that I’m not as worried about him talking as he gets older. I'm more worried about if he's kind, if he's smiling, and if he's happy. It's so taboo, a person's ability to talk says nothing about his or her level of happiness, yet that is the question I'm asked most. "Do you think he'll ever talk?" It's never, "is he happy?' I know everyone asks with nothing but love in his or her heart, but talking is kind of overrated. Think about it... How many words do you say in a day as opposed to how many words you speak in your own mind. Are the results overwhelming? Mine are. I'm a talker. Everyone of y'all right now are shaking your head "yes." But, y'all, my mind is in overdrive 100% of the time. I’ve been thinking about this  "talking situation" a lot the last year. But, honestly, does the ability to talk have anything to do with your worth as a human being? Absolutely not! Seems to me that talking is at the bottom of a long list. We all have our challenges. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Noah's strength is his smile. He could move mountains with that grin of his. Missing teeth. Dimples. A smile has come across my face as I am typing. He amazes me in more ways than one. He gives 110% to a task. He can put Legos and puzzles together like a master engineer. He loves to make us proud. He'll vacuum all day, everyday and fold towels like a boss. And I refuse to list any weaknesses. He is perfect in his mama's eyes.

Challenges are a bit of a different story. Challenges do not equal imperfections. It just means we work a little harder in some areas. Noah has to work a little harder to communicate, to get his point across, to follow directions and perform simple tasks. But he's learning. It's something new everyday. Most recently he's learned to make his own grits. Bowl, two packets, one cup of water, stir carefully, microwave thirty seconds. ENJOY! I am amazed. He can pour his own cereal and juice in a cup. I know this seems so small and simple but if you didn't know sometimes Autism affects motor skills and it takes some skill to pour from a huge jug full of juice and hit an opening in a cup. He gives it his all. And sometimes it's perfect and sometimes it spills. But he gives his all to clean it up. Still a bit wet and sticky but dang he sure does try. Life is wet and sticky sometimes.

Special needs parenting is hard. It's lonely, it's isolating, it's heartbreaking sometimes. I know I paint a rosy picture. The landscape is beautiful and the sky is blue. The water is so clear you can see to the bottom. But sometimes when no one‘s looking it’s coming a flood in my picture. Only a few people see because I’m so afraid to fail. The clouds roll in and it gets dark. I don’t want anyone to see how sad and hopeless I feel sometimes. That I feel like the worst mom in the history of motherhood. I smile and I laugh and I joke. But, sometimes I am so overwhelmed that I build a wall so high that no one can climb it. Some days I don’t want my picture to be rosy, I just want it to rain and rain and rain and then maybe everyone will understand. But then, there's a light. And the raining stops. A sweet, little boy and little girl climb the wall and smile at their mama who in their eyes can do no wrong. If that's not a reason to repaint, then I don't know what is...

Failing is what makes us human. It’s what makes us get it right after so many times doing it wrong. We finally learn that maybe there is a different way. And when we finally get it right, it makes it so much better. It just seems to me that we could all use a little nonverbal in our life. A kind smile means so much. A kiss on the head to let me know he's thinking about me. But this year, he's blossomed more than ever. The defining moment was probably eighteen months or so ago. I'm cooking super. Noah brings me a Mickey Mouse dvd. I pop it in. He points and says, "Mickey!" Since then, the flood gates have opened. He's talking all over the place. He counts. I cry. He asks to go to "Nanny and Pawpaw's house." My parents come and get him and Kate and off to Nanny and Pawpaw's they go. He names animals we see when we're out driving, he hollers out "TRAIN!" when the whistle blows, he tells us what holidays are during the month we're in. I could literally go on forever. Definitely longer than y'all want to read. The progress is never ending.

I've always hoped for the best. Always. But over the last six years there have definitely been chunks of time when I really thought Noah might be non-verbal for the foreseeable future. That is something I've only shared with a few people. As a special needs parent you have to hope for the best while preparing for the worst. And by no means is Noah being non-verbal forever the "worst." But you get the saying. I have never been so happy to be wrong in my life. Sometimes you don't realize how much your heart wants something on the bottom of the list.

Thanks for the read once again.
All my love,
Nikki

Dead Flowers.

I know what you're thinking. Does she even remember how to type? How long has it even been since she's published a blog? If you answered seventeen months, you're right! Insert excuses like kids, life, work, etc., etc., etc. I apologize. I haven't written in so long not because I have nothing to write about or no advances to report to you. I haven't written in so long because I haven't been INSPIRED to write. Well with the events in the last couple months, I've been INSPIRED to write. Let's see if I remember how to do this...

Friends, I want to talk to you about something not so happy. Sad. Difficult. Heartbreaking. None of these words describe the severity of the hurt and pain in my heart. NONE. But life has a funny way of waking us up from a peaceful sleep and reminding us that it's not always happy. It's real and so damn hard.

Wednesday, February 21 was fine. I got up and got ready for work like any other morning. Nothing significant. I hooked my patients up to their respective machines. A coworker and I had donuts for breakfast. I started taking patients off the machine and getting them ready for the next round. Nothing abnormal. Somewhere after the nine o'clock hour, it all hit the fan. I went to the bathroom and there it was.

Honestly,  I thought I would get out of having to go through this. With all the issues at the end of my pregnancy with Kate, Kevin and I came to the conclusion that we were done. It was hard. My biological need to have more children was done. Noah and Kate were my two in a million.

But like any other woman, my heart and head were not on the same page. Logically, I knew it was best to hang up my reproductive abilities. I knew the risk if I became pregnant again. Somewhere between thirty and forty percent. Did you know that if you are pre-eclamptic during pregnancy, each subsequent pregnancy has the risk for developing pre-eclampsia again? That's the scariest thing I've ever heard. I cannot go through that again. I could be sick again. That's not what I'm saying. Not seeing my baby for THIRTY-SIX hours post C-section because of the sickness is what I couldn't go through again. I couldn't leave my bed and she couldn't leave the NICU. It was the hardest thing I have ever done.

Back to Wednesday. There you were in my hand. Sweet little seahorse. I sat in shock. Just complete shock. I didn't even know I was pregnant, so when I started bleeding days before I thought nothing of it. NOTHING. It was surreal. I immediately called Kevin. He answers the phone so happy. "Hey, babe!" He says. All I could say was that I just miscarried our baby. Our baby that I didn't even know was there. His voice hushed. "What can I do?" He says. I was blank.

I left work early thanks to the best coworkers and boss ever! I got home and cried and hugged my husband. I just told him that I was so sorry and I really was. I didn't just lose a baby. My husband lost a baby. My children lost a sibling. Our parents lost a grandchild and our sisters lost a niece or nephew. It wasn't just me. This happened to all of us. I don't know whether that makes me feel better or worse...

I cleaned myself up. I called and talked to my sister and my mama. And I scooped up my sassy Kate and we took a nap. Emotionally drained. Physically hurt. I'll never forget how I felt and still feel. Like dead flowers...I played that Miranda Lambert song in my mind. Exactly how I felt. "I'm driving through a hurricane and all he can say is, 'man, ain't it such a nice day...?'" Miscarriage and infant loss isn't talked about. There isn't enough support for women and families that go through this pain. I am so very lucky. I have a support system who care about and love me. I never felt alone.

Today is better. But, I'll never be over it. There will always be days where hot tears fill my eyes and I see you in my hand. I wonder if you were a boy or a girl. What would you have become? A zoo keeper? A gymnast? Do you prefer Mickey Mouse or Winnie the Pooh? Would you be athletic or more of a book worm? I only know that you are loved and one day we'll meet and I'll know it's you and you'll know it's me. You're looking out for us. And one day, I'll talk to Noah and Kate about it and share with them how much they helped me with my broken heart. How their hugs moved mountains of pain and how their faces helped me push forward.

My heart is so full, yet there's a little space for you there. I believe this was God's way of letting me know that it's okay for me to end my child bearing story. Sometimes there isn't a breakthrough or a beautiful pink bow tied around a happy ending. That's just something I'll have to accept. In time, maybe I will. But I'll always wonder about you...sweet little seahorse...

A Big Brother Is Born...

Picture a house. Your dream house. Hard wood floors, tiled shower, jetted bathtub, tall ceilings, gourmet kitchen. Everything you've ever wanted. Now one thing I should mention. No dishwasher. But you don't really mind the dish washing by hand. But there's a space where the dishwasher should be. You are perfectly happy washing the dishes, but all you can see is the place where a dishwasher goes. Your dream house is still your dream, just missing something.

On August 31 at 12:16 AM, I got my "dishwasher." All 5 lbs and 15 oz. With tears streaming and heart racing, I stared at this baby girl for about 30 seconds before they whisked her away to the nursery. She was my missing piece: the hole I didn't know I was missing and was completely aware of all at the same time.

The first time Noah saw her she was four days old. She was in the NICU and it was the first day I felt somewhat normal. Tired and sore, but with two babies to love. I held her close and Kevin put the NICU gown on Noah and washed his hands and led him to us. As soon as he was close enough to touch her, she started crying. And that was that. Noah wouldn't come near her. I could see it in his eyes, "that thing is crying."

We brought her home two days later, and he was not having it. Many tears were shed. By Noah and by me. He was unsure about this little girl that he thought was his replacement. I was unsure that my first sweet baby would ever accept my second sweet baby as his own. Lots of sad eyes and sleepless nights. Two children needed me. Noah refused to let anyone do anything for him but me. Constantly begging me to put down this intruder and be HIS mama.

Now, let me explain some things. Noah is the kindest soul I've ever met. So, his non-acceptance of his sister was not out of malice or hate, but out of dismay and uncertainty. His life thrives on routine and order. Kate brought a certain level of chaos and disarray. His heart must be earned with consistency. Every day after school, he'd come home and peek around the corner toward the swing and look for her. I made it a point to have her in the swing when he got home so he wouldn't be threatened by me holding her every single day. Breaking in a new sibling is difficult. Most children experience jealousy. Of course. People coming in and out exclaiming how sweet and precious the new addition is has got to be disheartening. Something with which adults are equipped to cope. Small children. Not so much.

Three weeks is Noah's general adjustment period. We can do anything for three weeks. But one day out of the blue he was handing me diapers. And the next helping me button up her pajamas. Soon, he's touching her feet, then her hands. Finally wanting her to lay on his tummy. And shortly after that I caught him kissing her head. In my thirty years of life, nothing prepared me for seeing my first true love kiss his baby sister. Talk about ugly crying. My heart and soul right there loving each other. As time has gone on he's become this protector big brother. She cries. He rushes to her aid. Kissing her nearly every hour. His jealousy quickly morphing to extreme love and adoration. She looks at him the same way. She seems at ease when he's around. Looking at him like she knew him in another life. Like he'll always be there to save her from trouble.

Before Kate, I didn't know what I was missing. Just that I was missing something. She completes this crazy family. And I've never been happier washing dishes...