At the end of my pregnancy when I began having blood pressure issues, my doctor warned me that there was a good chance that if we couldn't hold off on labor that S would be spending time in the NICU. Simply put, I was 35+5 when I was induced and they said she was a tiny baby with immature lungs. When she came out gray and alien-like, I was afraid, worried, concerned. She made no noise, no sound. After sitting under the warmer and being coddled by the nurses for a few minutes though, her APGAR scores improved, it seemed like the steroid shots had worked, and we avoided a NICU stay.
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| Less than an hour old |
I learned very early on that she was stubborn. She cried constantly. The doctors said it was because she was a preemie, because her formula was upsetting her tummy, because she had colic. She wanted to be held constantly (which meant that we've invested in many baby carriers). She had to sleep at a specific angle or she wouldn't sleep. She loved being swaddled. She had a certain way that she wanted things done- and she'd let you know when you weren't doing things "right".
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| 4 months old |
Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter- she just frustrated me sometimes. I knew that we were blessed to have a baby that would sleep in her own room and mostly slept through the night at a month old, but that didn't always help when she spent the entire day screaming and screeching and I felt completely helpless. I isolated and hid away. We didn't go to church because I was afraid that she'd scream the whole time. We didn't get a babysitter because I was afraid they might shake her, as we had learned to walk away when these thoughts began to arise. I struggled massively with anxiety and depression as my postpartum hormones still tried to find their way back to how they were pre-pregnancy. I felt like a failure as a mom. Most days, I wanted to be anywhere BUT with her- because the screaming and the crying and the screeching seemed to never end until bedtime. We had some happy moments, some smiles and giggles- but Year One was rough. The Fussy Baby Site and it's Facebook groups were some of my greatest support- they made me feel like I wasn't alone. It wasn't my fault that I had a fussy baby- it wasn't my fault for taking antidepressants during my pregnancy or for the anxiety, or for struggling and thinking that motherhood was hard. Simply put, S was the way she was because that was the way that God had created her- extra sensitive- and that was okay.
After a year of dialectical thinking (that this motherhood thing IS hard AND it was okay to be that way), we reached S's first birthday. It was a hard day. The movers were packing up our things to send ahead to Maryland, my kid was a year old, and in a lot of way- it didn't feel like things were better. Sure- she was crawling FINALLY, she was starting to use words sometimes, and was starting to become a little person- but I was still unhappy. Being a mom wasn't anything like I had planned. I was mourning the loss of the child that I had always imagined that S would be like. I was grieving the way that the first year had gone, the loss of an innocent dream of childhood that having a baby would be magical. Newsflash- it wasn't.
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| First birthday |
I realized that I had a choice. I could choose to keep being sad about the way that things were, or I could change my expectations. I could keep believing that S would eventually be a "normal baby" and everything would turn out "the way it should" OR I could let go of that ideal and embrace the idea that God made S extra special, unique, and that He made her this was for a reason and a purpose that would be revealed someday (even if it wasn't today). I decided to take a chance and try the second option. After all, I'd spent the entire first year upset about things, would it really hurt to try a new approach? With this new approach, I decided that it was a time for a new beginning. We were moving to a new state where we'd be with all new people that didn't know how S's first year had gone or what our background was, or what we've been through individually and as a family. And with this choice, we gave our child a new name.
Some of you may be curious why I've suddenly stopped referring to "S" as "SC" or "Sarah Claire". Simply put, it's because we no longer call her Sarah Claire, or even Sarah, for that matter. Are they beautiful names? YES! But to be perfectly honest, I had hesitations about her name since she was first born and people asked if she was Sarah with an A or an H. It's one of those crazy pet peeves of mine. But, by that time, the birth certificate had been filled out and I didn't feel like I had a choice in the matter. After all, we had such a hard time coming up with a name that we liked, and WHAT kind of parent decides to change their kid's name after they're born and everything formal is already done?! (If you were wondering, it's something like 1 in 5). "Sarah" is a hard name for nicknames as it's already pretty short, but I didn't want to have to legally change her name. A few internet searches later, and I found out that "Sadie" is a nickname of Sarah. I loved the name Sadie (it was a name that I considered for future children until I found out the nickname status), and T agreed to give it a try. We tried it out secretly for a few weeks (calling her it while we were home, or when we were introducing her to other people that we'd never see again), and then- we just did it. When we moved to Maryland, we started introducing her as Sadie, we told our families that it was her name now (or at least I THINK we've told all of our families....surprise if you didn't know!). And honestly, it fits her. It's got the right amount of spunk for our rambunctious kiddo. I love the fact that it's short and not a double name (which is just too much work to call out 24/7 to a high needs baby). And...as silly as it sounds, it makes me love my kid even more, because there isn't the trauma from the first year associated with it (is that bad to say...because I'm still going to say it because I'm being honest and true here and it has been a struggle to love at times). Now that we've been in MD for almost two months and we are starting to make friends that are slightly confused by my Facebook calling "Sadie" "Sarah", I felt like it was time to make an announcement- even if it did seem slightly awkward. Hey- at least I can call Sadie by her name now without weird questions!
Are our high needs issues over? Nope. They aren't. We still have rough days most days. I still am afraid to leave her with a babysitter and she still cries her way through service on Sunday mornings so we struggle to decide to go to church. She now throws tantrums and is currently refusing to use any of the words she knows. She's strong willed and stubborn AND that's okay. We can work on these things as she gets older- and now that I've started to accept that this IS what it is...things are going better most days. I'm anxious, but I'm not as anxious. I'm depressed, but I'm not as depressed. Progress, not perfection...right?
And that's the story of how I changed my 1 year old's name...and it's okay.
Oh- and yes, her legal name is still Sarah Claire and if as she grows up she decides that she wants to go back to being called Sarah or Sarah Claire or Claire, we will fully support that. But for now- she's Sadie. :)
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