The Sweetest Thing…

Pablo, my sweetest gift from God.

I am sitting here looking at this photo of him aged around 9 months sitting in his high chair, after just eating breakfast, little curls tumbling around his face and lush full lips just begging to be kissed.

His journey into life was one of wonders and a whole lot of fear, scares and frights. He was so worth it all.

I was still newly recovering from surgery that had split me from breast bone to pelvis. Struggling with healing, 3 children under 4 years of age, a husband that worked away from home and living amongst the cane fields.

A baby was the last thing on my mind at that stage as we had been told we would never be able to conceive ever again. However, funny how one night that held alot of laughter, joy and love can change your life…. The day I found out that he was making his arrival, I was shocked, amazed and fearful especially when we found out it was triplets!

I was ordered to terminate the pregnancy by my Family Doctor and my Specialist due to the overwhelming health problems the pregnancy would give me.  Both our families were horrified and the thought of 3 extra children did scare the crap out of my Husband and I but also we sat there in amazement that we could actually have fallen pregnant.

Within weeks, I had lost two babies and the third couldn’t seem to be found in the scans so I mourned our loss and resigned myself to the fact my child bearing days were over.

Pablo had the last laugh.

After I was sent to hospital with stomach pains, he turned up in the ultrasound waving his hand at me! I went ahead with the pregnancy and yes in the process almost killed myself but that feeling of ‘if he can fight to be here against the odds, then I will fight for us both’ kept me going.
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He arrived one winter’s night in 1995, after my waters broke over our kitchen floor.  Off to the hospital we raced, all excited and to discover ‘nothing’ was going to happen.  The hospital sent me home amongst arguments that ‘something was wrong’ being uttered by both myself and my husband.

Back to hospital within 24 hours as NO contractions had been felt and his heartbeat was changing dramatically.  I know, let’s induce you!  yeah well, 5 inductions later and by this stage we were into our 5th day since my waters had broken. Pablo decided he didnt need a heartbeat anymore.

He arrived 8th of June 1995, 3 weeks early after 3.5 hours of labour. I had been refused a cesarean, as the doctor in charge (my obstetrician was away on holidays) told me I had my other 3 children naturally and so I could have ‘this one’ the same.  As a result, our fourth and last child was born clinically dead.

All I got to see of him, was him upside down being dangled by his legs, being showed the top of his crown and remember thinking he will have curly hair as he was raced to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. In between the doctors and nurses tried to stem my own life’s blood pouring out of me like raining pelting down onto a roof.

Those first 7 days of his life, we both fought very hard to live and gave my husband some nightmares of his own.  Both of us can never speak of that harrowing time without crying a lake of tears.

The day we brought him home, wrapped in his white shawl, we laid down on our bed, Pablo between us and we slept for what seemed the first time in 8 incredible months.

Andrew - aged 9 mths 1996

He weighed a healthy 8 lb at birth and the first 10 months of his life was spent in and out of hospital.  By the time he was 9 months old, he was the height and weight of a 1 year old. At his christening, we dressed him in this adorable little sailor suit (he was too big for the christening outfit!) and we gave incredible thanks to our Lord for saving him for us to love forever.
Andrew - aged 2 years 1997

By the time he was two, his mop of curls had grown and he already showed a love of motorbikes, fast cars and loved looking down ladies shirts. He had a fascination for breasts – any size or shape.  At the checkout of the food store, he was sitting in the trolley and casually lent over and felt up a young lady while telling me her ‘boobies were nice!’
Andrew - 3 years 1998

At 3 years of age, I was back at work part time.  Leaving him at day care after spending those precious 3 years with him every day was heart breaking. He didnt enjoy it either.  His screams could be heard all the way out to the car park.  I couldn’t wait to grab him into my arms at the end of a work day.  

Andrew - aged 5 years 2000

Before I knew what time it was, he was leaving day care.  At 5.5 years old, he could count to 40, knew all his shapes, letters and where he lived and phone number.  He loved riding his bicycle all hours of the day!  He was excited to be going to ‘big school’ where his siblings all attended. He loved riding on the back of his daddy’s motorbike, swimming and going to the beach.  

Andrew - first day of school

He started off the New Year and his school life with a broken arm after breaking it while running!  His father’s knee was fine however Pablo needed a cast. His first day of school was a disaster, he got upset because he wasn’t with his siblings and left the classroom to ‘look for them’.  His teacher didn’t report him missing and it was only when I came to pick him up at the end of the day, she realized he was gone. 2.5 hours of frantic looking and calling the police…. we found him crying down on the back of the school oval.  

andrew aged 15 yrs

By the time he was a teenager, he had rapidly shot up in height to exceed all his siblings. He was now riding motorbikes most days and weekends.  He didn’t enjoy high school work and was forever being asked ‘Have you done your homework yet?’  He found out that girls thought him gorgeous and we as his family, discovered he could keep his love life a secret really well! At 14, he was known by his siblings to take my car out for a drive without our knowledge and when discovered by his parents told us ‘hey, it came back in one piece, what is the problem?’

It was also around this time, he started calling himself Pablo!  Scarlett took to calling him ‘Bob’ and his School friends called him ‘Curly’.

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At 18, to celebrate his birthday, he got a tattoo on his arm that says ‘Forever shall we be together‘. His motto about our family life.  Sitting beside him as he got it done was wonderful and the entire time all I thought about was his life until that day.  Wonder, joy, happiness, a sense of completion and gratitude for his bravery in surviving.

He is to our family, a true gift from God.

Now with only 4 days until his 21st birthday, which will be celebrated with a Masquerade Ball (I will post up some pictures next time I write a blog); I am once again having a merry old time down memory lane.

The first time I ever saw him without wires, tubes, oxygen mask, beeping machines and being told ‘Pablo is going to live till old age’; I collapsed to the ground and burst into tears while the NICU Nurse comforted me.

The first time I laid him on my hospital bed and got to touch his hair, his skin, feel his toes and watch him breathe on his own before we both fell asleep with me telling him “Pablo, Mummy will love you forever’….. until that moment I had not spoken to him nor wanted to touch him.

Miss Scarlett, aged 5 years of age, holding him in her arms at School for ‘Show and Tell day’ with her father hoovering over her in case she dropped him and telling her classmates…’The little bugger is finally here!’

Going to the beach with him, his first splash of sea water and his squeal of glee. The first time he swam in a pool before pulling his little shorts off and telling me, “it felt so nice without pants on’. Going to school carnivals and watching him compete as a swimmer.

Crying as his little legs took him to school for the first time and knowing that he was no longer ‘just mine’ but now his teachers would get to share his day. He was no longer a toddler but a little bloke whose school bag was almost as big as him. To screaming in fear the day he had his first motorbike accident on a neighbour’s property.

His first words to me as I frantically ran hands over him checking for injuries was…’how crook is the bike? Is it going to be okay?’ Oh God, he was a true biker! They had been the same words that his father, uncle and grandfather had uttered upon their own accidents!

The tender moments in the middle of the night, when he would come out of his room knowing I was still awake and we would snuggle on the couch, watching Anime together. With him telling me the story line and me making memories to last until my dying day. 

The day he got his car licence and his motorbike licence…. my heart nearly burst with joy and happiness! Yippee, he could now go down the shops for me!! Finally, the moment of celebrating the last day of High School with him and his father…. none of us were sad.

It was an end of an era for us as parents and a new chance of life long memories for Pablo.  He was now in control of his destiny and dreams and with pride we stepped back and told him, ‘Go for it Son, Enjoy yourself!’

At 21 years of age, Pablo is on his way to finding where his destiny lays. He is happily in Love with the Gothic Goddess and rides his motorbike with ease and passion. He can be found most days laughing, sharing his thoughts and shining those luscious chocolate eyes with mischief in our direction. He has a hearty laugh and a kind nature, however will not tolerate fools with ease and will stand up in defence to anyone who will try to knock our family to their knees. He takes his role as a sibling and son seriously.  

Last but not least, Pablo’s belief in family is strong and loyal.

We love him so much and wish Pablo a truly joyous Happy Birthday.  May God always bless you and be in your life. May you always know and see that you are loved from us all.  May your life dreams and goals come true.

Pablo…… Our Darling ‘Drew’…… Bob…… Curly…… Little Man…… Pezzna

                                        ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY…… ENJOY!!!!!!

I Love you, Son…… You were so worth the fight!!!

 

 

 

 

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