I wrote this a few days ago and have just sat on it until today. T is sick with a tummy bug and has been more cuddly and cute than can be contained and I've thought again about how lucky I am to have him! Time to share some T stories ;)
Oh that Talmage. Someone once told me that Talmage was such a big name for such a little man. I agree that it's a powerful name--and so fitting. So big. So brave. His body is young but his spirit is much older and wiser. He remembers everything, he understands deeply, he feels pain and heartache and he is so perceptive. I look at this picture and I see a 20-year-old galloping through a forest on a horse instead of a little boy riding circles on a pony. Oh that little Talmage.
I started getting really sick and started having lots of doctor's appointments right after my parent's dog died. We had decided to wait to tell T the news of a new baby because the diagnosis was so new and scary for us (let alone a child) but after a few appointments T started to get concerned. He knew that Riley had gotten sick, gone to the doctors, and then died...and he thought the same thing was going to happen to me. He cried so hard as we talked about heaven, and we told him that Mommy was sick in a good way, because she had a new baby in her tummy. At that, he perked up. "My sister is coming!" he said.
You see, technically T can be thanked for this new baby. After everything with Everett, James was pretty sure we were done. But this summer Talmage-boy started asking us when his sister was coming. And boy was he relentless. "My sister wants to come," he'd say. "She's ready!" Week after week we'd hear about T's sister. At first we just thought it was cute, but then Jim realized that Talmage was talking straight to him. A new hope was born.
Explaining things to T is tricky because he asks a million questions and understands way more than I sometimes wish he did. Telling him about the miscarriage was hard. He cried and he gave me the most tender hug. Then he sat on the kichen chair, the wheels visibly turning in his brain, and told me, "OK Mom. I'll have questions later during question time at 7 O (my guess is he meant o'clock). I'm not asking questions now. I'll ask them later." Poor baby was trying to process everything. He also had been praying for Nicqelle and begging to visit her for months. He knows she has gone to heaven and that was hard as well. Too much for a 3-year-old.
He's brought it up a few times since then. He asks me questions like, "Do all babies have mended little hearts like our babies do?" and today, "How can I visit baby Nicqelle in heaven?" He says, "Do all babies live at the hospital?" and knows more about heart disease, intubation and feeding tubes than most adults. Usually my heart ends up in my throat and I try my best to explain things. He also told my mom that a friend of mine was pregnant and "she went to the heart doctor and the doctor said that her baby was growing small." He thinks that babies are supposed to grow bigger but ours grew smaller and then left.
I wish I could give him a healthy baby sister that didn't have a mended little heart and didn't live in the hospital. And maybe someday I can. But for now we are waiting for results from genetic testing and just enjoying the family we have.
Anyway, here are some funny things T has said lately. We certainly enjoy him!
I started getting really sick and started having lots of doctor's appointments right after my parent's dog died. We had decided to wait to tell T the news of a new baby because the diagnosis was so new and scary for us (let alone a child) but after a few appointments T started to get concerned. He knew that Riley had gotten sick, gone to the doctors, and then died...and he thought the same thing was going to happen to me. He cried so hard as we talked about heaven, and we told him that Mommy was sick in a good way, because she had a new baby in her tummy. At that, he perked up. "My sister is coming!" he said.
You see, technically T can be thanked for this new baby. After everything with Everett, James was pretty sure we were done. But this summer Talmage-boy started asking us when his sister was coming. And boy was he relentless. "My sister wants to come," he'd say. "She's ready!" Week after week we'd hear about T's sister. At first we just thought it was cute, but then Jim realized that Talmage was talking straight to him. A new hope was born.
Explaining things to T is tricky because he asks a million questions and understands way more than I sometimes wish he did. Telling him about the miscarriage was hard. He cried and he gave me the most tender hug. Then he sat on the kichen chair, the wheels visibly turning in his brain, and told me, "OK Mom. I'll have questions later during question time at 7 O (my guess is he meant o'clock). I'm not asking questions now. I'll ask them later." Poor baby was trying to process everything. He also had been praying for Nicqelle and begging to visit her for months. He knows she has gone to heaven and that was hard as well. Too much for a 3-year-old.
He's brought it up a few times since then. He asks me questions like, "Do all babies have mended little hearts like our babies do?" and today, "How can I visit baby Nicqelle in heaven?" He says, "Do all babies live at the hospital?" and knows more about heart disease, intubation and feeding tubes than most adults. Usually my heart ends up in my throat and I try my best to explain things. He also told my mom that a friend of mine was pregnant and "she went to the heart doctor and the doctor said that her baby was growing small." He thinks that babies are supposed to grow bigger but ours grew smaller and then left.
I wish I could give him a healthy baby sister that didn't have a mended little heart and didn't live in the hospital. And maybe someday I can. But for now we are waiting for results from genetic testing and just enjoying the family we have.
Anyway, here are some funny things T has said lately. We certainly enjoy him!
Me: Don't ask Daddy why, just do what he tells you to do.
T: I didn't ask why, I just said the letter Y.
T: This is my jelly-poo sandwich.
Me: T, that's gross. Don't talk about poo.
T: No Mom, just Winnie the Pooh silly!
T: Mom, is Utah the North Pole?
Me: Why do you think Utah is the North Pole?
T: Because it snows there.
T: Is there a baby in your tummy?
Me: No, not anymore honey.
T: Yes, I see one. Look at that big tummy you have!
T: When I grow up I'm going to be a baseball player after my mission. And then my job's going to be going to school. Waw school, wike Daddy. And then I'm going to graduate and move to LA.
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