A Mother's Heart Beats Outside Her Chest.

I am no one special. There are no songs written about me. No billboards bear my picture and still no books have my autobiography in mind. I am just a mom from a small town in Tennessee. There is nothing grand about me. I have been in love a few times and fallen out of love twice. The world will still turn long after I'm gone, but there's one thing that's extraordinary that I've been apart of and that makes me whole. I am not empty and I am not missing parts. You know it's funny, I didn't know your heart could survive outside your chest. And no, I don't really think a heart can prosper outside a body. A proverbial heart if you will. That's the thing about being a mom. Mom's hearts are outside their body.

I was born on September 3rd, 1986, to two people who've taught me more about family than anyone could. It's pretty awesome when your parents can be in the same room. And they even have the same last name. Please, don't think I'm judgmental. I've been married and as it turns out it ended quite painfully in divorce but that's neither here, nor there. So, when I got divorced I felt like I had failed at a family. I thought it meant every other weekend and split up holidays. A little piece of my heart breaks and falls apart every time Noah has to leave. And that will never change.

Very young, I decided I wanted a career in health care. So, I applied to nursing school the second I graduated high school. I got in after three semesters of prerequisites. There were ups and downs during this period. In Nursing III, I got engaged to a man. We were in love and it was grand. Well, you all know the rest I'm sure. I didn't pass my Nursing IV exam by seven questions, causing me to fall behind 2% the required percentage to pass the class. I failed. I've never failed anything in my life. It was a turning point. I was depressed for months and months. I could no longer keep my job because it stipulated that I be a student in nursing school, and without a nursing licence, I couldn't have my new job as a night nurse on the orthopedic floor. I felt nothing. I felt defeated. It was the end of the world. All I wanted was to be a nurse. My dream was dead and I had no where to go.

I was unemployed for ten weeks. Ten grueling weeks. I put in application after application. Unemployment unfortunately pays nearly nothing. So, I couldn't afford much. And what I could afford didn't include birth control. I finally got a job at Williamson Medical Center. Ironically enough on the orthopedic floor. So, things were looking up. I was making money. It was an awesome job with awesome people and pretty good benefits. I was putting nursing school behind me and moving forward. I was planning a wedding and everything was going as planned.

It was mid-December. Six months had passed. I always thought about school. Why had I failed? Was I ever going to live my dream? I had started having strange headaches and was getting nauseous at the same times during the day. Hmm? Well, I'd had trouble with nausea with different birth control pills in the past so I didn't think much of it. One day I asked my fiance to bring home a pregnancy test because I was pretty late. I've never been on time so I wasn't worried. Well, lo and behold, I was pregnant. Pregnant and unmarried. HOLY CRAP. I was petrified. Ashamed. I was absolutely not ready to have a baby, be a mom, raise a decent human being. So, that family that I talked about earlier didn't include premarital pregnancy. I was terrified to tell my parents. But I did. And after the shock and the disappointment wore off, we moved up the wedding and I was happy. Married. Pregnant. An adult in what seemed like less than fifteen minutes.

Noah was born on August 19, 2010. He was beautiful. He was a c-section baby so his head was beautifully round and perfect. His eyes were ocean blue. Sparkly. His eyes sparkled more that any diamond I'd ever seen. It was magic. Then I knew. My dreams were paused because Noah was my dream. It was an unknown dream. My love for my son has far surpassed any job I could ever want. I always searched for the reason why. Nursing school was a fail for me because I know if I would have passed I would still be able to afford birth control and wouldn't have gotten pregnant when I did. Circumstances will come and go, but Noah is constant. And for that I am eternally grateful.

Now, Noah's three. THREE! What happened to my baby? That sparkly blue-eyed baby grew into a sweet little boy. He's turning on light switches, opening door knobs, feeding himself. He's learning! He also sings. No words just a melodic tone and smiles. I know in my heart he's singing. It's astonishing. How do you love a person so much. And it's instant. I didn't grow to love him. I loved him the SECOND I laid eyes on him. Don't get me wrong, I loved while I was pregnant with him but when I first saw him I knew. Wow, that's real, unfabricated love. Noah is mine and I am his. And that will forever be a truth.

Baby, I'm Amazed by You.

First, I would like to apologize for the length of time between posts. Combination of writer's block and hideous sickness. I'm on the mend and will hopefully have answers to these headaches soon. Now, onto the good stuff. I read an amazing and inspiring post on Facebook today and it gave me a fantastic idea on what to write about. I want to share with all of you why I'm so blessed. Amazed really. I hope you find a smile on your face when you read this.

I am amazed that on August 19, 2010, I gave birth to a one of a kind, smart, happy, wonderful, soul enriching son.

I am amazed at the overwhelming amount of support that I receive on a daily basis from everyone about Noah's progress and well-being.

I am amazed that such a tiny soul could fill my heart with such joy and love.

I am amazed that there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for this boy.

I am amazed that I've met and fallen in love with such a wonderful man who accepts me for who I am and doesn't ask me to change or expect me to change, who not only accepts but welcomes all of my previous "life experience", who understands that I am not a blank canvas, and who is happy to add to my artwork of life and make it our own.

I am amazed that Noah learns something new and exciting everyday. His memory is astounding.

I am amazed that when Noah and I went to fill his prescription today in town in Chapel Hill that he ran down the strip to his therapy office and waited. He loves therapy. He screamed for weeks even pulling in the parking lot. HOORAY for life victories.

I am amazed that in the last week Noah has learned about the laundry hamper. He knows where his dirty clothes go. He jumps up and down for joy every time he puts his clothes away! I've discovered I don't give Noah enough credit for what he can learn and do. I know he isn't developing like other kids and I have to teach him to do the same things other kids do. I cannot compare the two things. I can only teach Noah his own way and in his own time. That's the key to Noah. That I have figured out.

I am amazed that he is kind. I've been under the weather for over a week. He on occasion will stop playing with toys and come and lay in my bed with me. He'll look over with the sweetest smile as if to say, "I know you don't feed good, Mama, so I came to lay with you." He'll tackle me with hugs and kisses. My favorite part of life.

I am amazed that modern medicine has come such a long way. There are programs and programs and programs for children with developmental disabilities. Autism is on the map 100% more than in the past.

I am amazed that I caught Noah driving toy cars around. That's appropriate play for a child of his age! That's major progress.

I am amazed that such a something so small in stature could fill my heart to the absolute brim and overflow it with such joy and love. I wasn't complete until the nurse put Noah in my arms. My life has a purpose.

I am amazed by Noah everyday. I don't see that changing. He's growing into such a little boy. He's no a baby anymore. I can't wait to see what he teaches me next.

Every Other Weekend.

It's 9 PM. I've been listening to my baby holler and cry for a good twenty-five minutes. So, I go in his room. It's a sea of tears and snot and sweat from all his hard work at trying to get me to come and get him. He has succeeded. He reaches out to me with Pooh and puffy, sad, puppy dog eyes. How am I to say no? And what kind of person/mother would I be if I left him in there another second? So, I grab him up and he squeezes me so tight! Hugs! He's really charming now. It's over. So, I take him in my room. He giggles and pulls the covers up around him. We trade hugs and kisses and tickles and he gives me hug around the neck with both arms. I close my eyes and take in this hug. I know that tomorrow he has to go away for the weekend.

It's 9:45 am. He's dressed and ready. He has all of his overnight items. The time I'm dreading is drawing closer. We put on socks and shoes. And one last diaper check. He grabs Pooh and I put on his jacket. We get in the car and go the mile to the meeting place. We get down the street and turn in to the same ole spot and it's time.

I unbuckle his car seat fighting tears behind my sunglasses. I'm glad he won't see if one slips out. Even after all this time, it has not gotten any easier. It's been well over a year since this every other weekend business. I give a kiss and a hug to my favorite little boy and make small talk about him to his dad. He puts him in the car, buckles him in, and drives away. My heart swells with sadness before I eventually lose it and cry. Every single time. The sadness encompasses me like cancer invading a healthy immune system with plans to take over. A large piece of my heart always goes with him. I lose a piece every single time. Divorce happens. I know this because it happened to me. That part I have gotten over. I can't seem to get over sending my boy away. Even if it's only for forty-eight hours. I feel empty now. I sit in my car in the gas station parking lot and squall. It's no longer crying. I can no longer speak English. My tears multiply, and my nose is running. It's a complicated situation. And I can't keep him from his father. So, while my heart is away, I spend the weekend either trying to keep busy or I fail miserably and watch old episodes of Grey's Anatomy or How I Met Your Mother while I lay in the bed.

When I get home, there is evidence that a small person has been there. Toys everywhere. I leave them for awhile. But, then I inevitably pick them up and that's where his toys stay until he gets home. I know that's he's not gone forever. But, there's something about not being able to kiss your son goodnight. I don't know what he's doing and it's hard. We FaceTime later that night and I tell him night, night and exchange air kisses and he's in bed and so am I.

Before I know it, it's time to pick him up. I speed the whole way there. No judgement please. I'm excited. He's usually outside with his dad waiting on me. He always smiles so big when I pull up. And that empty feeling goes away and my heart is full again. My frown fades and the tears tuck themselves away and everything is right with the world. He runs and hugs me, telling me he's happy to see me with his eyes.

I don't know much. But, I do know that my love for Noah can fuel me to climb mountains. And I know he loves me too. Even though he can't say it, I know it's real. For a few minutes of sadness on those weekends he's gone, he gives me days and days of happiness and love when he's home. And I've always been told that you can't appreciate the good without some bad, too. So, as I sit here at the beginning of a weekend without Noah, I know that I'll appreciate Sunday just a little more this week. Sleep tight, my love, Mama will see you soon...

Only in Dreams.

Several weeks ago, I had a dream one night. I woke up gasping and crying. I was relieved that it was only a dream. It was the middle of the night between 11:00 PM and 2:00 AM. Noah's cry was intensifying over the baby monitor. I wiped my face and staggered into his room. He saw me, grabbed his Pooh and reached for me. Noah has bad dreams, too. People ask me all the time, "How do you know he's having bad dreams if he doesn't talk?" Mother's intuition is my only answer. It's an anxious, scared cry. Like he's begging for the scary things to go away. So, I scoop him up and carry him to my room. At this point, I'm hugging him so tight. He falls asleep before I even walk the ten steps to my bed. So sweet and serene. I lay there. Awake. Anxious. Scared. Panicked.

In my dream, my baby was dead. Wonderful, smiling, life saving Noah was dead. He lay there in his tiny white, shiny coffin. I will never get that image out of my head. There is no greater fear in a parent than losing a child. Yesterday becomes a distant memory and tomorrow is depressing. I don't want to live in a world where my tomorrow doesn't include Noah. He's the basis for every decision I make. He's every thought in my head. I honestly didn't know what love was before Noah was born. My once hyper, hopping, happy Noah was lifeless. Still. Still is a scary word when it comes to Noah. He's not still often. Only in dreams...

I stand in this big church. I proceed to speak at his funeral. I would never be able to speak at Noah's funeral. I was calm and poised. Which, if you're reading this, you obviously know me. And you know I'm not a calm person. I'm high strung and panicked most of the time. This different version of me stands there speaking of this little boy who did so much for so many. I don't know how he died. And I think that's the hardest part of this dream. There's no resolution. Several people told me that they had dreams about their children dying. It's a hideous view of a future without Noah. No more hugs and kisses. No more waking up to the sweetest tackle ever. No more opening and shutting doors and cabinets and the refrigerator. No more reason.

Noah is happy in his bed. Snoring. Every day that I get to spend with Noah is a day well spent. I will spend the rest of my days with Noah. He's jabbering more and more everyday. And each day, he's closer and closer to talking. I have deep hope that he will talk one day. His therapists feel the same way. All I want to hear is "Mama, I love you." Just one time. I dream of the day when he says it. When your kids are talking your ear off and all you want is some peace and quiet, please do me one favor. Say thank you. People tell me often that when Noah starts talking, he won't shut up. I hope with everything that I am that it's true. There are things that we all take for granted every day. Simple things. There are sweet babies all over the Earth who can't walk. Kids who can't do anything for themselves and require constant care. Parents lose their kids every day and my Noah is still here. His story is not finished being written.

I am on a mission to tell Noah's story and spread happiness through him. He's is everything I've ever wanted and everything I could ever want or need. He's a blank canvas ready to be painted. There are wonderful things in store for him. Greatness. His smile could move mountains. His heart is kind and loving. He senses when you're sad and knows just what to do. He is pure joy. I am better because of him and constantly learn things from him. It baffles me how much he teaches me without a single word. He's a silent teacher and God truly saved me when He put him in my arms. I'll remember that moment until I leave this Earth. He is love in human form...

The Lucky One.

First of all, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who read my first blog. I appreciate all the likes, sweet comments, shares, and conversations about my sweet boy. The outpouring of love and support is truly heartwarming and we all need a little encouragement sometimes. I feel like the Grinch. My heart has grown two sizes! It's amazing how much you can learn about someone's heart with a little blog about a sweet, Winnie the Pooh loving little man.

Secondly, many people have said that Noah is so lucky to have a family like us. Or how lucky he is to have a mother like me. That's one of the sweetest things I've ever been told. And to each of you that said that, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart. But, I have to disagree. Not because I think Noah is unlucky to have a mother like me or a family like ours but because I am definitely the lucky one in this situation. Noah doesn't care if I burn the cookies. He is unaffected if he doesn't have the latest fashions. He smiles at me just the same whether I've had the worst day or the best day. His unconditional love and affection is never ending and I am undoubtedly the lucky one. I've said before that I thought I'd be doing all the teaching and Noah would be doing all the learning. But, alas I was wrong. And funnily enough, it makes no never mind to Noah that I was wrong in that assumption. He teaches me something about the human condition everyday. And I grow more and more thankful everyday that God placed this tiny human in my care. So, I've decided with this blog that I will further explain why I am the Lucky One. 

Noah has a bond with me that I cannot explain. And if I did have an explanation, it would do no justice for it. He has different bonds with everyone. He'll sit and look at the fish with his nanny for hours. So intrigued. So innocent and curious. He and Nanny will swing and swing and swing singing "Old McDonald Had a Farm." He stacks his pegs with his PawPaw. So meticulously. He'll sit in the crook of PawPaw's arm and watch country music videos. Noah will wrestle in the floor with AJ for days on end. Vigorously. He'll let AJ swing him around for what seems like an eternity. And with me, well let's just say he will lay so still under the covers in my bed and watch the Braves until he can't hold his eyes open any more. He'll bump my fist and watch it explode over and over and over. Giggling the whole time. He has different ways to love all of us. And there's a special place in Heaven for Noah's kind heart.

Noah gives the best hugs. He hugs with his whole body. There's nothing like coming home after a hideous day at work and you walk in the door and you're greeted with a precious smile and a full body hug. His hugs have meaning and warmth as if he's saying, "Mama, I know you've had a tough day, but thanks for coming home because, I'm so glad to see you!" His kisses are the same way. He grabs my face like we're in a Hollywood chick flick! He comes at me with gusto and lays one on me. He often comes into my room when he wakes up and showers his mama with sugars and hugs! The sweetest way to wake up. How can you have a bad day now? I challenge you to try. It's absolutely impossible.

As all of you know, I work in dialysis. It's an early morning start. So I'm usually up and out the door at 3:00 AM. Not the easiest when you're raising a toddler but Noah is more than worth it. By the time Noah is awake, Mama is long gone and working. I have on occasion looked at my phone after a particularly tough morning and PawPaw has text me a sweet picture of Noah sound asleep in my bed. He was not there when I left that morning I'm sure. Nanny assures me that it's comforting to him to be able to smell me and what perfect place to do that but in my bed. How sweet is that?!

Last but not least Noah's love of hand holding. I remember when he was less than six months old. I couldn't wait until we could walk hand in hand. There's nothing like walking down the street and you look down and a sweet little hand has a death grip on yours. It's warm and comforting. He'll walk miles just holding onto me. And every now and then, he'll look up at me and smile. I dread the day when he feels like he doesn't need to hold my hand. Until that day, I'll soak up every step and walk hand in hand with the boy who stole my heart without even trying.

So you see, I am without question the lucky one. Smiles when I'm sad. Hugs when I'm hurt. Kisses when I'm tired. I am forever in debt to this little boy who barely talks. I can't imagine how he'll enrich my life when he starts talking. It will only make life better and more worth it. Noah was not a planned baby. Life happens when you make plans, I've been told. Imagine where we'd be if he had been part of the plan. Regardless, I wouldn't dare change a thing. Everything happens for a reason and I can't wait to see where Noah takes us. I know it will be somewhere worthwhile. And I'm along for every step...

Backstory.

This is the story of life's purpose. My reason for being on this planet. Thanks for the read...

Noah was a beautiful baby. When the nurse handed him to me, he looked at me as if he'd known me for years. His look of familiarity was comforting. A rush of feelings and blood fled through me. Here I was, 23, and a mother. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. And all those people who said it would come naturally were right to an extent. It took a little time for this motherhood thing to "come naturally." August 19, 2010 at 5:24 PM my station in life was now different. I was responsible for this little wrinkled dude named Noah. 

Fast forward approximately eighteen months. Life was different now. I'd moved back in with my parents for reasons I won't bore you with. I was separated from my husband for reasons I won't rehash. I had a new job that I was settling into nicely. Noah and I were recovering from all the changes. And I thought we were doing great. And we were. Just not everyone else's conventional "great." But, at this point I had no idea. My baby was growing. And growing quite well, we had just gone to the pediatrician for an eighteen month well visit and he was in the 90th percentile for weight and height. But no words. He had been talking; saying a dozen or so words. Dada, mama, tree, duck, egg to name a few. And feeding himself well with utensils. But, shortly after an ear infection and his dad and myself separating all that stopped. It's like the lights shut off. Completely dark. Refusal to speak, refusal to feed himself, refusal to help dress himself. I had no idea all this was that big of a deal. Enter TEIS. Tennessee Early Intervention System is a voluntary educational program for families with children birth through age two with disabilities or developmental delays.

At his evaluation with them, he barely met qualifications at two years for a "normal" child. I use that word "normal" loosely. I sadly have no other term. So, everyone kept saying, "he'll talk when he's ready." Well ready came and went and still no talking. He's nearly 30 months old at this point. We (Nanny, PawPaw, and Mama) were all greatly discouraged and worried. At a doctor's appointment at 30 months that was an accidental scheduling (I believe that was God intervening) because they don't do well visits at two and a half years old. They asked all the questions: Is he feeding himself? No. Is he dressing himself? No. Is he using two word sentences and speaking at least 100 words. Um. No. 

Panic has now set in. What is wrong with my happy, smiley, giggley, affectionate boy? Boys develop slower than girls. Boys talk later than girls. These opinions sound legit. I held onto them for far to long. And there is no measure for the amount of guilt I feel for this. I feel as if I've done an injustice to the person I care most for in the whole world, Noah. A person whose very survival depends on me. It's a huge weight. I know that the outcome would have been no different but it's still there. 

At his next evaluation, about two weeks after that accidental doctor's appointment he qualified for services from TEIS. We started Speech Therapy and Occupational Therapy and a teacher came once a week to work with Noah on various developmental things like coloring, stacking, and motor skills. Without these wonderful people Noah wouldn't be feeding himself with utensils, coloring, or using sign language. It's been an intense six months, but God has put the right people in our lives. 

August 5th he was officially diagnosed with Autism. During his developmental assessment he showed all the red flags: his love of puzzles, spinning in circles, flapping his arms in excitement, fixating on certain things, difficulty transitioning from one activity to another, etc. And that's where the journey begins. Noah's in preschool now and just finished his first week. I refuse to let this diagnosis be viewed as a "setback." I've had people ask me if I could go back and do things differently and Noah not turn out to be Autistic would I do it? No. Noah is Noah no matter what. And I will love him until I take my last breath. He has taught me far more things and any other human being on this Earth. And I highly doubt anyone else that comes along in my life will ever teach me more than Noah has in these last three years. He's is the reason I'm on this earth. We all search for our purpose in life. That's what people do. Whether it be a job or someone's spouse or partner or whatever it may be, I know God's plan for me is to be Noah's mom. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. He's my Autistic Inspiration.