Life's Hard Lessons

"Mommy, do hamsters go to heaven?". Crash looked at me with tears running down his face.

Crash's piano teacher had given him two adorable little hamsters for Christmas, Crunchie and Munchie. They had belonged to her for a while, but she wanted him to have them. It was love at first sight for Crash. He's turned out to be a very good pet owner. The rest of us have come to love them and their cute antics, as well. They each have their own little personality and likes and dislikes. One likes fresh carrots, the other one prefers plain, raw almonds. Much to the kids' amusement and my frustration, they both kick the food they hate out of the cage and onto the schoolroom floor in search of the sunflower seeds they love.

Today is supposed to be a happy day for Crash, his ninth birthday, but instead, it quickly turned bleak when I checked on his hamster Crunchie, and gasped. A few weeks ago, we'd noticed Crunchie had about a marble-sized lump on his back. It appeared out of nowhere. He seemed to be his happy hamster self, though. I decided that except for checking to make sure they had food and water, I wouldn't look at him for a week or so so I could clearly see if there was any change in the lump. Crash decided to give them a few almonds for treats this afternoon and asked me to have a look at Crunchie. When I pulled back the little handkerchief they sleep under, I was startled. The lump is now the size of two peach pits put together. For a tiny little hamster, that's pretty significant. He still doesn't seem to be suffering, but at the rate the lump is growing, I can't imagine that will be the case for very long.

that lump shouldn't be there.

I held Crash while he cried and gave him Matthew 10:29: "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? And one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father." I said, "think about how much God loves you, Crash; yet the Bible says he sees and notices even the smallest animals. He knows all about Crunchie". That seemed to calm him a little. He took a shuddering breath and asked me what we were going to do. His pinched, worried little face watched me while I thought. I couldn't stand to see even a hamster suffer. If he were in the wild in his current state, a larger animal would come along and end it for him. That's the design of things. He's protected in his little cage in our house. Nothing's going to come along and put him out of his misery when he hits that point. Crash seemed to know when I reached my decision. His face crumpled and he fell into me again sobbing. I held him for a while longer and then asked all the kids to leave the room so I could call the vet. Crash quietly crept in while I was on the phone with the receptionist and was silently listening in. He watched while I wrote the appointment date and time down. I made the mistake of looking directly at his face and then I started crying. That poor receptionist... . I got through it and ended the call. The appointment is for this coming Tuesday at 10:00. Crash dried his tears and straightened up. He looked at me and said, "I want to be with him when it happens. I don't want him alone with strangers". He quietly fed Crunchie another treat and watched him for a while.
Life and death is such a hard lesson and one inevitably learned early on when you have pets. It hurts to see your kids suffering, but at the same time, I think it's one of those life experiences that helps them mature, too. It's kind of symbolic, I guess, that it happened on his birthday, I just hope that this isn't what he thinks of when he looks back on this day.

Crash's Story

Each of my kids came into this world in their own, unique way. Crash was no different. He's the one who always keeps us on our toes around here. He's been that way from even before the very first breath he took.
Goober was finally into the manageable "older" toddler stage and my husband was getting ready to graduate college when we decided it was time to add to our family. I had an uneventful pregnancy (except for being bone-tired). I can still sing every single song from the early Veggie Tales movies. Most days in those first couple of months, I would baby- gate off the kitchen and hallway, deadbolt the door of our apartment, lock the sliding glass door to the balcony (those of you who know my kids know why) and pop in a Veggie Tales (VHS!) video, dump some toys onto the floor with his blanket and pillow and a sippy cup and collapse onto the couch for a nap. Occasionally, I'd shoot up, hurdle the baby-gate and lose my breakfast. Good times ;).
Eventually, the tiredness and morning-sickness eased up and I was able to get out more to take Goober on walks and to the playground. I was so happy with my little family and things were going great. My husband graduated that winter and almost immediately found a job in Indianapolis. Given that this was almost two years after 9-11 and things were still a bit unstable, his getting a job right out of the gate in his field was amazing. That also meant a move. We quickly found another apartment in Indy and made the move. At that point, I was 36 or 37 weeks pregnant. I called around trying to find a new OB, but nobody would take me that late in the game. I shrugged it off and figured "well, when it's time, we'll go to the hospital and SOMEONE will have to deliver this baby!". It was a crazy time for us. A relocation, a new job, a new baby; we'd found a new church and were trying to get acclimated to our new area. We'd barely gotten the basics un-packed by week 40 when I woke up on a Saturday and felt "off". I was having some lower back pain and tightening in my stomach. We waited a few hours to see what happened and it didn't stop, so, we grabbed my bag and Goober and my husband took us off to the hospital. We ended up getting sent home with "false labor". UGH. Early Sunday morning, I woke up feeling uneasy. I'd had a monster sinus infection for weeks. I didn't want to take anything because of the baby, so I was miserable. My head was pounding, I couldn't breathe and ran a fever off and on for a couple of weeks. It's hard to sleep when you can't breathe. I lay there watching the sun come up and trying not to disturb my husband. Eventually, I was uncomfortable enough to turn over and then I heard an audible POP and then there was a gush. My exact thought was, "false labor, huh? Pfffttt!" I woke my husband up and awkwardly got everything together again. Things get a little fuzzy after that (weeks of very little sleep, remember), but I think we waited for my mom and sister to arrive to take care of Goober before we took off for the hospital. I think. I remember getting there and getting settled into a room. It was a teaching hospital and I got gawked at by a ton of residents parading in and out. Not having learned my lesson the first time, I stupidly opted for another epidural. Guess what? Once again, they hit several nerves. I vowed in that bed that any subsequent babies would be totally epidural-free. The good thing was, I had normal labor this time, not back labor and it actually worked that time. The pain gone, I was able to sneak in a couple of "kind of" naps.
Eventually, a nurse deemed it "time". All of a sudden, it seemed there were dozens of people in my room. If it weren't a teaching hospital, I'd have been a little nervous about that. Things went very quickly. Crash made his entrance just a few minutes after that. There was a triumphant "It's a boy!" and we smiled. The baby hadn't let us peek there at the four-month-ultrasound and because of all the upheaval, we hadn't had any others and didn't know the sex of the baby. I knew in my heart he was a boy, though. I shot an "I-told-you-so-smile" at my husband. Something wasn't right, though. He wasn't crying. Once I re-focused, I realized the room had gone eerily quiet. There were several nurses/students around me and I craned my neck to try and see Crash. I said, "what's wrong?" I got a pat on the arm and a "nothing, honey". Suddenly, the air in the room was charged and instead of quiet, people were flying around. I sat up and said, "what's wrong with my baby?!" A couple of nurses came over and tried to placate me again and I said, "NO! Tell me what's wrong!" One of them finally met my eyes and said, "he's just having a little trouble taking his first breath, that's all. Sometimes the epidural can make them kind of sluggish". That's ALL?! It had already been who knows how many minutes. It felt like an eternity. I knew that after seven minutes without oxygen, the brain starts to die. I heard someone mutter "intubate" and I felt my body go cold all over and my heart dropped like a rock. I know I was holding my breath. I remember them talking about tubes while they rubbed on Crash and tried to stimulate him. As they were getting ready to intubate, he took a deep gulp of air and began to breathe and cry quietly. He sounded like a kitten. A cheer went up and I started breathing again. Once they were sure he was okay and breathing well, they placed him in my arms. He had a blueish/gray tint all over. His lips were purple. His little hands and feet were purple. They stayed that way for two days. Just like with Goober, I opted to have him room in. I wasn't letting him out of my sight! I woke up from dozing once, early in the morning to find a Dr. and a bunch of residents standing around my bed and his isolette. The Dr. smiled and asked if it was okay if he asked some questions. I said, "sure". He asked me some basics and then asked, "are you going to have him circumcised? Having already fought that battle when Goober was born, I raised myself up, looked him in the eye and prepared for round two. I firmly said, "absolutely not". He smiled and said, "good!" and noted something on his clipboard. I saw several of the residents look at him with surprised looks on their faces and he led them out. I hope that today, there are several more open-minded Dr.'s out there who will respect a mother's right to make that choice for her son.
Crash was such a good baby! He fit into our family seamlessly and hardly ever fussed. I was amazed at the difference from when Goober was a baby. Sometime around one-and-a-half, though, he began watching his brother. He began to get a glint in his eye. Soon, Goober had a partner in crime and the two of them were wreaking havoc on our house! Goober taught him everything he knew, and Crash was a good student. Diapers were flung at walls (they discovered that early morning wet diapers absolutely EXPLODE when they hit the wall. Bathrooms were flooded, I was locked out of the house, messes were made... . Those early years are a blur for me, really. I came to equate hysterical giggling with, "here we go again". We bought baby gates like clockwork- always looking for the one gate they couldn't thwart or scale. I don't think we ever did find one ;).
The years have flown by and while Goober has finally settled down, Crash has taken up the cause and soldiered on, filling our lives with color and excitement. There is never a dull day when he's around. While he's definitely our wild-child, he's also my biggest cuddler. It seems like such a contradiction, but that's what makes him special. Crash gives the best snuggles you've ever had. He seems to be all-boy, full-steam ahead, but he has the biggest heart, especially when it comes to the ones he cares about. Every now and then, he'll slow down and open up and show us what a tender heart he has. I'm not sure what the future holds for Crash, but I'm sure whatever it is, he'll charge head-long into it and give it everything he's got ;).
Happy 9th Birthday, Evan Ryan, we love you so much!