Two months

Dear Travis,

Today, you are two months old.

You're spending this anniversary in the hospital.

Early (very early) the day after Halloween, I got up with you and you were very warm. Your temperature was 101.9 rectally. Yes, I take your temperature rectally, and if you're anything like your sister you'll have to endure that until you're almost two. I like accuracy, okay?

After a trip to the pediatrician later that morning, you were admitted to the hospital. They don't like fevers in infants, and you'd just been in the emergency room the weekend before with another fever. That one turned out to be probably just a virus, after you endured several not-so-fun tests. This time they decided you had to get the entire evaluation they give all infants with fevers...which meant more bloodwork, another urine catheter, a chest xray and a spinal tap.

The good news is everything came back clear. Bad news is, you had to stay another night in the hospital for observation. You have a really bad cold and you sound awful. You were so congested yesterday and today you've lost your little voice. It's acting like a virus, and you definitely have a cold, so we'll most likely be able to take you home tomorrow. Daddy is with you now while I'm home with your sister. I was with you all day and you just wanted to sleep and be loved. I miss you.

You're two months old and you're not home. You've had such an incredibly rough start to life, Travis. First you spent 10 days in the NICU. Then when you got home, you screamed and cried inconsolably for weeks. I nearly lost my mind. Scratch that, I did lose it several times. Then just when it seemed you were turning a corner and actually had some waking moments that weren't filled with screams or cries, you got sick.

I feel like by this point I should know a little bit about who you are, but I don't. We just haven't had the opportunity yet. It makes me sad, but at the same time I know that these first several weeks, while important, are minimal in the grand scheme of things we'll call your life. I barely remember your sister's first couple months and that was only two years ago.

While I haven't had the opportunity to really get to know you yet, I do have several theories about who you are and will be. I think you are extremely lovey and affectionate. You always hold on to something when I am feeding you or holding you - you either try to find my hand or a finger to hold onto, or you grab my shoulder or arm and hang on for dear life. It took a long time, but you are finally able to be consoled by being held. When I hold you tight to me, you relax and look up with the sweetest face and your little hand finds somewhere to connect. I know you are vocal - we won't worry about what's going on inside your head because you're going to be a talker. When you have your calm moments, you happily coo and basically yell the entire time - but with a smile on your face. You like hearing yourself speak. Wonder where you get that from. You are determined and tough. You've been through a ton.

Your sister is very funny, in a silly over the top kind of way. She wants to entertain and make people laugh. You're much more serious but you simply can't have a poor sense of humor in this family. I think you'll be hilarious but in a very dry sort of way. Which is fantastic, because I love dry humor. You can make me laugh for the rest of my life.

I have a feeling you are a lot like me in many ways, which means we will probably butt heads for a long time but also have an incredible bond...I hope. It hasn't been an easy two months. It's been extremely hard. There have been times I've had to step away from the crying for a few minutes and try and gather enough sanity and strength to deal with it for the rest of the day. Despite the difficulties we've had getting you started in this world, we love you so much. You are our son, our gift we never thought we'd have. Your little gummy smile means so much because it's not easy to come by. As you get older you'll realize how funny your parents are. Really. We're very funny. I swear.

All my love,
Mommy