My Little Boy is Three Today

I cannot believe Micky is three. My little boy. In many ways it feels like MUCH more than three years have passed, and yet is seems like I was just driving him home from the hospital down the snow-covered streets of Loudoun.

Micky’s short life has been surrounded by turmoil and upheaval from the very beginning. I became pregnant with Micky only a few short months after losing a baby five months into my pregnancy. It was traumatic to say the least. But it did not stop Micky from coming into my life. I was naturally very nervous all throughout the early stages of this pregnancy. And when I went into labor with him only 20 weeks along, panic probably didn’t quite express my emotions.

Going into labor for the fourth or fifth time . . .

The hospital was able to stop it by administering Terbutaline through a HUGE needle into my butt! (And, yes, it hurt like Hell.) They also injected me with steroids to beef up his lungs in case he did actually deliver prematurely. (This was nothing new to me at the time. The same happened with Emily around 24 weeks and I was put on bed-rest. She did eventually deliver 8 weeks premature – but to see her today, you’d never guess she once was a preemie!)

When I continued to go into labor every two to three weeks after that (that’s right folks, I was in full on labor and had it medically stopped over FIVE times with Micky! Pain in the @ss – literally) the all-clear-38-week-milestone couldn’t come fast enough for me. Luckily Micky made it that long, and the final labor lasted only a few hours and out popped a healthy, full-term, little baby. My first memory of him was listening to him hum softly to himself in his sleep the first night in the hospital. Even the nurses commented on it. Micky was already soothing himself. It was beautiful.

Three months later, I noticed his head seemed to be growing much faster than the rest of him. Pediatric checkups confirmed the growth rate was a concern. The word “Hydrocephalus” was mentioned (TRUST ME DO NOT GOOGLE THIS WORD), and an MRI confirmed it. Micky did, in fact, have hydrocephalus. I was devastated. On the good side, aside from his “big ole head”, he was not showing any other symptoms. He was the most calm, happy, interactive little baby you could imagine. I immediately went to my best source of information and support (my Mothers’ Group) and received an outpouring of prayers, sympathy and wonderful advice from mothers whose own children had been diagnosed with hydrocephaly and had grown into perfectly healthy toddlers! Micky’s hydrocephaly ended up resolving on its own – no need for stints or other interventions – thank God. But the scare was life changing.

Micky's always smiling - despite his "Big Brain"

Seven months later (two months before his first birthday), his father and I separated. Not that any separation or divorce is ever totally without craziness, but this one was definitely a mess. I will not go into details here, but over the next six months, Micky had to be pulled from our family daycare, the kids were repeatedly rushed down to my parents, police became a common appearance at our door and most exchanges, and Micky’s life was anything but routine. It took another year for things to finally, sort of, settle down and a more normal routine to be back in place.


Micky's First Christmas - 2009

I know most people will tell you that kids “don’t remember these times in their lives.” I’m sure to some extent that’s true; Micky will not have a concrete memory of the events in his early years. But your environment impacts your development, perhaps even more so in the early years. And despite this (and okay, despite the fact that he is currently a stubborn, crazy, force to be reckoned with) he is one of the happiest little balls of humor and love I’ve ever known. Micky may use up every ounce of your patience and bring you to tears faster than Kleenex commercial . . .

A Little Sampling of a Micky Tantrum . . .

but he will also make you laugh til you cry with his perfectly timed, funny little jokes, his Groucho Marx walk, his quirky facial expressions; and melt your heart with his bear hugs and snuggly kisses.

Micky and my Mom - 4th of July 2011

Micky is a character. There is no other way to describe him. And he already has an infectious personality. When parents see me with him at church they come running up to me, “Oh my gosh! Are you Micky’s Mom?! My daughter (or son) can’t stop talking about him! She loves him! Every night at dinner we can’t wait to hear the newest story about Micky!” (I kid you not. This was an actual conversation.)  I’m sure my mouth gaped open with a look of stupidity plastered across it for several minutes. Then I smiled, because I knew what they were talking about.

Micky always has fun with his food

Micky Anderson Varga (Plummer). You have graced this Earth for three years now, and already you have made your mark upon the places and the people blessed enough to know you. I am thankful that I have been given the greatest gift of all – of being your Mom.