Day One

As of this morning when I first opened my eyes, the countdown to Brooklyn's first birthday had begun.  Thirty days from today, our sweet angel will have been here with us , making our lives incomparably blissful for 365 days... I, loving this baby more words can attempt to describe, will give to you, my beloved family and friends, a gift to mark this momentous occasion... A picture a day, for the next thirty days... Pictures taken throughout the year, through my camera lens, therefore, through my eyes...

Some pictures may be accompanied by narration, others won't be, as certain pictures don't need an explanation at all...  So like that, this small labor of love has begun...

 Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start... 

 

For many of you,viewing this picture of our son may come as a shock, as the first five days of Brooklyn's life, are rarely talked about.  Looking back through these pictures now, is just so strange... I feel like these were days that really never took place, days that I didn't live through, how could I have?  But in fact I know very well that these days were reality and that I did survive, as did he...

  

Brooklyn Michael Villicana was born to us at 9:25am on Saturday, October 20,2007.  His beauty was evident from the moment he was born... 7 pounds, 20 inches long...  Big brown eyes, and a shock of black hair...  If I hadn't ever seen his older brother, I would say that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever set my eyes on.  It figures that with such perfect packaging, there was bound to be an internal mishap.  Within the moments following his birth, Brooklyn was determined to be having a hard time breathing, and was taken from the room that we were in, to the neonatal intensive care unit where doctors and nurses did everything within their power to get him breathing in a regular pattern. We were informed that our son had been born with an undeveloped lung, and that without immediate treatment, there was concern of life long consequence. Despite the efforts of the hospital staff, efforts failed and it was deemed in his best favor to be transported from the hospital that we were in,  to another more specified NIC unit at a neighboring hospital. Once he had made his arrival at his final destination, he was cared for and  kept under closer observation for five days and four mind numbing nights.   Now I know that this sounds horrible, and mind you, it was... I could go into great medical detail, and relay to you the play by play events that transpired throughout those five days, but instead I will relive for you, bits and pieces of those days, though my personal memory and then I will tell you how those five days changed the course of my life entirely.  

I distinctly remember Brooklyn's delivery being both quick and painful...  The euphoria and surge of power that follows a near-natural vaginal delivery is unsurpassed, indescribable and unbelievably empowering.  I remember this moment of my life being cut short in the faces of the people that surrounded me.  I knew instantly that there was something wrong; the panic that I felt in that moment was nearly enough for me to get up off of that table and accross the room to where my baby lay. The moments that followed felt endless, but in reality were only a few.  On his way out the door, one of the nurses must have caught site of the anguish clearly visable in my face... stopped the incubation chamber and let me hold my son, for not more than one minute... I remember the face mask that he had on... I remember the way that he smelled as I held him to my face and kissed him as many times as I possibly could, the softness of his skin...  "I love you, I love you, Momma loves you..."  and like that, he was gone...  Hours passed, I was beside myself...  My mind was racing, and my body was in a state of absolute panic...It was  as if there were a loud speaker blaring in my mind..."Where is my baby... I need my baby..."  I was frantic.  The next time that I saw Brooklyn, he was intibated, and attached to three intravenous machines.... he was medically sedated and "resting comfortably."  I'm not going to talk much more about this day, as even now it is disturbing for me to recall...  I was released from the hospital the following day and returned home, without my baby...  The next four days are foggy in memory... but these few things I will never forget... 

 My husband Anthony, being my absolute rock throughout the worst days of both of our lives.  His kind words and comforting reassurance... His willingness to drop everything and at a moments notice, and jump onto the freeway for yet another trip to the hospital...(Brooklyn was admitted to a hospital in downtown San Diego, about a forty-five minute drive from our home, and although the NIC unit did have visiting hours, they didn't apply to mothers that would wake up in the middle of the night in a dead sweat, panicking and yearning to hold their child...) Anthony was an absoulute God send, still is...

I will never forget the absolutely primal instinct within a woman to be a mother to her infant... I spoke earlier of my body almost calling to my baby... I cannot describe how completely unnatural it is to return home from the hospital after giving birth to a child,without that child. To walk past his waiting nursery, and  return to your life as you knew it, without your baby. My body was responding normally to having given birth, but there was no child present to receive what my body had to offer...  I would call the night nurse on duty for one final check -up prior to climbing into bed, and then I would cry myself to sleep... praying that maybe the next day would be the last, and that our sweet boy would be coming home with us.

And how could I forget the all incompassing elation we experienced the night that Brooklyn came home with us... It was late and I will never forget feeling as if just when we were ready to walk through the hospital exit, someone was going to stop us and tell us that there had been some sort of a mistake and that he was not ready to go home.  The tears that I wept in great thanks and in great relief that that night had arrived.  I stayed in his room with him all night, his first night home.  Sitting there in the silence of is bedroom, I realized that for him, this was his first night in a dark, quiet enviorment... This was the first night of his life that he wouldn't be awakened and administered various medications, and  that he didn't have those IVs poking into his tiny little body. The first night that he was held for more than a hour at a time and that is proud parents lay him into his bed for the night.  Home at last, safe at last...

These memories are forever embedded into my memory... this is the way that Brooklyn' s life began, I have come to peace with this part of our lives... Coming to know Brooklyn throughout this last year has been a life changing event.  The joy and the love that this little boy brings to my life on a daily basis is unparalleled... Never would I have the opportunity to love my children the way that I do, without having felt the incredible loss and fear that I felt those five days.  The undeniable connection that a mother shares with her child, would never have been made so clear... This little boy is truly something special, and I am the lucky one; to have the opportunity to share my days, with him... Within this year, he has both taught and reminded me of so much. 

 

Love, Faith, Family, Health, Trust... 

I live my life now with  a much clearer perspective than I did a year ago... 

I know what truly matters in the silence of the night and what doesn't... 

This was not the way that I had expected Brooklyn's life story to begin, but it is the way that it began, and I can promise him,and you, that his story gets so much better from here... 

I love you, I love you. Momma loves you...