This blog may be a little redundant because I've said a lot of this before but I'm going to write it because as a mom, I can't help but travel down memory lane on my children's birthdays.
When I stop to think about how Patrick came to be, I realize how much of a miracle he really is. After struggling to conceive Hartley, I never thought I would experience a spontaneous pregnancy. I thought I was "broken", honestly.
I remember feeling pregnant on Friday December 5th, 2014. We were scheduled to have a morning play date and then have neighbors over for drinks in the evening. I woke up nauseous and sweaty, and I literally felt pregnant. I knew I couldn't be and thought it had to be the flu. So I cancelled the play date but I ran out to Target to buy a pregnancy test to rule that out. Yep, right on the conveyer next to my wine because of the drinks with neighbors. I had specifically picked to buy my test at Target because they don't have those horribly awkward plastic cases you need to ask someone to unlock. The devil - but, I digress. The thing I hadn't accounted for was how weird it must've looked. I had an infant, wine and a pregnancy test.
When I got home, I took the test right away. And I could not believe my eyes. I remember standing in my bathroom just in utter disbelief. I called Brian, and he was shocked. I'll never forget him just saying "what?", over and over. It was a very joyous thing. We were very happy but it didn't make any sense to us. I choose to believe (in a very cliche Hallmark channel kind of way) that it was a Christmas miracle.
I scheduled my first doctor's appointment for shortly before Christmas. Once we were doctor confirmed, we'd tell our families at Christmas.
Only, our excitement, very quickly turned into anxiety and disappointment. At my first doctors appointment they confirmed I was pregnant. But the baby measured small, and they couldn't find a heartbeat. They also found a blood clot in my uterus. All in all, things did not look promising. And about a week or so before Christmas, which was Hartley's first Christmas, I was told to go home and take it easy. I was told I was in a state of threatened miscarriage, I should go home, be easy on my body, and be prepared to lose my baby. I should call them when I started to cramp or bleed. Otherwise they'd see me for a follow up ultrasound after Christmas.
I wish I could lie and say I stayed positive but I genuinely thought I was going to lose the baby. I was really sad. This baby wasn't one that I'd begged God for for years but I loved it already.
Hartley took her first steps. We celebrated Christmas. I tried not to think about what was going on but I pretty much thought about it every second.
Shortly after Christmas, we went back to the doctor. They did the ultrasound first thing. And sure enough, we heard that beautiful thump thump thumping of his heart right away. He was still there, and he was growing. He heartbeat was perfect. The clot was still there, too. So with a wiggly 10 month old at home, I was placed on modified bed rest. There's nothing they can do for these clots so they tell you to be safe, and you have to hope for the best. They would do ultrasounds every 10 days to see how things looked.
My mom actually went with me to my 14 week appointment while my dad watched Hartley. Each appointment I went to I knew bad news was an option so sometimes if I could have someone come with me, I did.
That day they said the clot had shrunk. It was also the day I found out Patrick was a boy. I didn't find out in an elaborate way like I did with Hartley. I really wasn't in a space to do a cake or some Pinterest-worthy reveal. But it was beautiful. My mom was there. My favorite nurse told me she wasn't allowed to show me my panorama test results but she couldn't stop me if I looked at the computer and saw on my own. I read on the screen "MALE", and I bawled happy tears. I said to the nurse that several years ago I thought I might not have a daughter or a son, and how lucky was I that I now get to have both. I was so elated.
We revealed his name on Facebook - Patrick Godfrey (my maiden name).
My pregnancy had little bumps along the way. I have massive anxiety at the end. The idea that I was going to be juggling an 18 month old and a newborn was terrifying to me. At the end, I wanted him to come on his induction day because I didn't felt ready; I needed every last day to get ready. But in true Patrick fashion, he surprised me. A week before my due date, I went to bed after popping an Ambien. So when I woke up at 1 am in a puddle, I was in a mental fog. I apologized to Brian for wetting the bed - and then I realized, my water had just broke. I was in labor.
Things got far more emotional. When I was laboring in the hospital, I learned my grandmother had passed away in her sleep. I remember my mom saying through tears that she was probably taking her last breaths around the time my water broke. It's something that gives me chills to this day.
I still remember all the details of that day, and how I learned about my grandma. I remember my mom knew before I did, and we listened to this Garth Brooks song about meeting your mom in my delivery room. I was crying. My mom was crying. And I was surprised my mom was crying but I didn't know at the time that she'd just lost her own mother.
I remember after finding out my Yaya had passed, I told my mom that she didn't have to stay. And she told me there was no place she'd rather be. She told me that Yaya was there with us in the delivery room to make sure everything went safely and smoothly.
After 45 minutes of pushing, I felt that beautiful feeling of relief, and my mom shouted out, "He's here!" Patrick was born at 7 pm on the dot. I still remember bawling as I held him for the first time. I told him how beautiful he was and that I loved him.
We changed his name to Patrick Frank to honor my Grandmother Carryl Page Frank, whom I am also named after. I feel like he will always have a connection to her. And I feel like him being born on the day she passed has some very special meaning.
Whenever I stop to really think about Patrick, I think about all of this. I think about (and I'm sorry, this is cheesy) how he restored my faith. He was this baby who surprised us, and he seemed so determined to stick around and grow and join us. And now I know why, he truly was this wonderful, silly, happy missing piece of our family puzzle that was so beautifully meant to be. I really never knew how much I needed him, and now I literally can't imagine life with out him.
I always said if he had a slogan it would be: "I'm just happy to be here."
Patrick Frank,
At two, you are a man of few words (they are coming in though!) but you're never short on personality. You're hopelessly flirty. You tend to remind us an excited puppy. You freely hand out kisses and hand fives. And you are fiercely close to your sister, who has become your little partner in crime. You still love to be tickled and snuggles. Life is all about cars, trucks and stop signs. You are pure joy. We love you beyond measure.
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