Nothing But My Version of Ordinary

On NYE of 1999, I was 18 and spent it with Anthony of Kentucky fame (if you don't know that story, I'll recap it later. It involved stupidity on my part and a lot of douchiness on his part). That relationship ended a few months after that and man, thank God it did. I was a freshman in college that year and had just moved out of my parent's house and into the dorms. I remember calling my mom after midnight to laugh at her, because the world as we knew it did not end (she'd fallen hook, line, and sinker for the Y2K hysteria and had done things like stockpile wheat and canned goods).

NYE of 2001 was notable night because that was the night that Jacob and I got together. I'd met him a few times before that when I'd drive from San Marcos to the Westlake IHOP to "study" (read: hang out and take over the smoking section while occasionally doing homework) with Jacq and Megan. Jacob worked with Megan at the same Wal-Mart, so he was part of the "study" group. He was shy, and I was dating someone else at the time, so it never went beyond a "hi" until NYE of 2001. I'd broken up with the guy I'd been dating, and Megan invited me to come to Slick Willie's to play pool. I got there before Jacob did, and happened to look up as he walked in the door. I still don't know why I thought this, but as he walked in the door, I thought "If I were to date him, it'd be really serious". I then immediately thought I was being ridiculous. Later that night, the whole group went back to Megan's house to watch the ball drop on TV. I took off my shoes and socks since I was planning to spend the night. Jacob was standing by himself in a corner looking uncomfortable, so I threw my socks at him. That broke the ice, and he and I have been together pretty much ever since.

2002 was pretty uneventful. I graduated from college in 2003, and got my first teaching job in January of 2004. Jacob proposed in the spring of 2004 and we moved in together that May. The rest of that year was spent as a first-year teacher and wedding planning. We got married in 2005 and bought our first house together a few months later, and I transferred to the school I teach at now to get away from my lunatic boss.

In June of 2006 we decided to try to have a baby, and I got pregnant right away with Kenneth. Other than gaining way too much weight, that pregnancy was very uneventful until we went in for my 16 week ultrasound. We found out he was a boy, and then the next day my OB/GYN called me personally at 9am and told me that it looked like the left side of the baby's heart was too small. He told me I shouldn't worry, that it was probably nothing, but that I should go see a pediatric cardiologist in 5 weeks to make sure. I spent the rest of the day freaked out about it, and then refused to think about it at all until the night before my appointment with the pedi card. I let myself google "small left ventricle" that night and found out that the doctor thought my baby might have Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, a defect that had the words "uniformly fatal in the first days or weeks of life if untreated" in its descriptions. Needless to say, I freaked. The next day brought the fetal echocardiogram at the pediatric cardiologist's office, where a diagnosis of Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome was confirmed and the options were given. The rest of 2006 was spent going to more doctor's appointments than I can count, and making plans and decisions to try to prepare for the birth of our very sick baby.

2007 was Kenneth's year. He was born on March 14, had his first surgery at 5 days old, and was put on ECMO (Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation; it's a huge machine that does the work of the heart and lungs for the body) after surgery because his heart wasn't coping. That month was a hellish rollercoaster of hopes raised and dashed, until finally we had to make the decision to try one last-ditch effort to fix his heart enough to function without ECMO, and then remove ECMO support for good or bad. He had been in secondary organ failure (kidney failure) since his first surgery, so he wasn't a candidate for a heart transplant. On April 17, he went in for a surgery to replace his defective aortic valve with a donor valve, and ECMO support was removed. He passed away in the OR and my world was shattered.

The funeral was April 21, and most of the days for the next few months after that are a blur of grieving. Grief has a life of its own and it irrevocably changes you, especially if you're grieving your lost child. I went back to work in the fall of 2007 and we did our best to live normally. When NYE of 2007 rolled around, both of us were just relieved that the year was over.

2008 was Grant's year. After months of trying, I got my OB/GYN to give me Clomid. 2 months in of Clomid treatment and I was pregnant again. The pregnancy was eventful, since I ended up with preterm labor and bedrest from the middle of September until I had Grant at 37 weeks on November 25, but it resulted in my wonderful Grant. Grant has been the picture of health since day 1, and once I got through post-partum depression (thank you, SSRIs) and got the hang of breastfeeding, it's been wonderful. He brought the light back into my life.