Fifteen years ago today at 8:26 pm, Jakob Kounkel joined our family.
During the months preceding Jakob's birth, we were living with Grandpa and Grandma Kounkel while our new house was being built. We accidentally made the decision to sell our house without a really solid plan about where were going to live.
Adam loved being there with the Kounkels. It was nice for me too because Joe was gone often to develop his ambulance business, and I wasn't left home alone with a three-year-old boy in the final weeks of pregnancy. It was strange for the three of us to live in Joe's old room, but I will always credit our stay with the warm and wonderful relationship I have with my mother-in-law.
We really wanted to try to avoid a second c-section, but the doctor was a little worried about the size of the little parasite growing in my belly. She recommended that we schedule an induction for Monday, February 13, 1995, and we agreed to her plan.
Induction is never a pleasant experience, imho. It just makes everything happen too fast and with great intensity. Joe, not a fan of hospitals or anything that looks like blood, is an amazing partner during labor and delivery. At the peak of the labor experience, he crawled into that narrow hospital bed and spooned with me. It relieved the intense pressure in my back so I could relax a little between contractions, and was a testimony of his love for both me and our unborn baby boy.
By dinnertime, we knew we weren't going to avoid the second c-section, so we prepared ourselves for surgery, and Jakob was born at 8:26 pm that night.
The doctor held him over the drape and I beheld his smashed and crooked face for the first time, falling instantly in love with him, even though he was - without a doubt - the ugliest baby I had ever seen.
Delivery makes me shake intensely, and the doctor was a little concerned about it, so Joe and Staci went with Jakob to get cleaned up, weighed, and measured. How empty a mother feels while watching her newborn roll down the hallway!
The next day, Joe brought Adam to visit his new brother. Adam was amazed enough by the tiny baby and really wanted him to open his eyes, so he poked Jakob several times before we could stop him. They haven't stopped poking each other since.
It was quickly apparent to me that Jakob was a completely different character than Adam. The infant Jakob could not get enough to eat, and as a result I resigned from the "no-food-before-it's-time club" I'd belonged to with Adam. Jakob needed food and I needed a break from feeding him.
As soon as he could move, Jakob started climbing. He climbed on top of everything and everyone. He adored being on top. He wasn't interested in sitting down and playing; he wanted to run and jump and laugh with his whole being. He exhausted us all, even Adam.
I once left Jakob on the couch next to Adam. He often cried when he wasn't within touching distance of me, and I needed to make a meal for a sick friend, so I Adam had to help. When I finally finished the stuffed shells (I couldn't have chosen something a little more simple?), I picked up the fussy baby and he stopped crying. Tired little Adam asked, "Mommy, can't we just put him back?" I explained that we couldn't, and Adam spent the afternoon writing me a note on a small post it. It read, "I hate you, Mommy." The words were accompanied by an unhappy face with three tears.
As intensely as Jakob needed to move and play, he also needed downtime. As a toddler, I would often find him lying on his belly with his face cupped in his hands watching the ants on the back patio, or outside under a tree or plant watching the leaves move. In nursery school, a very busy place indeed, he "checked out" when he needed a break by moving outside the circle of friends and laying down for awhile.
Jakob loved his Grandpa Gordy. Grandpa Gordy would sit at his desk holding Jakob and they had private conversations no one ever heard. They liked to rub tummies and it wasn't at all unusual to see Jakob's shirt pulled up and Grandpa's shirt pulled up for the tummy rubbing. Odd to witness, but they were both perfectly content in those moments, moments Grandpa Gordy called his "Jake-breaks".
During the months preceding Jakob's birth, we were living with Grandpa and Grandma Kounkel while our new house was being built. We accidentally made the decision to sell our house without a really solid plan about where were going to live.
Adam loved being there with the Kounkels. It was nice for me too because Joe was gone often to develop his ambulance business, and I wasn't left home alone with a three-year-old boy in the final weeks of pregnancy. It was strange for the three of us to live in Joe's old room, but I will always credit our stay with the warm and wonderful relationship I have with my mother-in-law.
We really wanted to try to avoid a second c-section, but the doctor was a little worried about the size of the little parasite growing in my belly. She recommended that we schedule an induction for Monday, February 13, 1995, and we agreed to her plan.
Induction is never a pleasant experience, imho. It just makes everything happen too fast and with great intensity. Joe, not a fan of hospitals or anything that looks like blood, is an amazing partner during labor and delivery. At the peak of the labor experience, he crawled into that narrow hospital bed and spooned with me. It relieved the intense pressure in my back so I could relax a little between contractions, and was a testimony of his love for both me and our unborn baby boy.
By dinnertime, we knew we weren't going to avoid the second c-section, so we prepared ourselves for surgery, and Jakob was born at 8:26 pm that night.
The doctor held him over the drape and I beheld his smashed and crooked face for the first time, falling instantly in love with him, even though he was - without a doubt - the ugliest baby I had ever seen.
Delivery makes me shake intensely, and the doctor was a little concerned about it, so Joe and Staci went with Jakob to get cleaned up, weighed, and measured. How empty a mother feels while watching her newborn roll down the hallway!
The next day, Joe brought Adam to visit his new brother. Adam was amazed enough by the tiny baby and really wanted him to open his eyes, so he poked Jakob several times before we could stop him. They haven't stopped poking each other since.
It was quickly apparent to me that Jakob was a completely different character than Adam. The infant Jakob could not get enough to eat, and as a result I resigned from the "no-food-before-it's-time club" I'd belonged to with Adam. Jakob needed food and I needed a break from feeding him.
As soon as he could move, Jakob started climbing. He climbed on top of everything and everyone. He adored being on top. He wasn't interested in sitting down and playing; he wanted to run and jump and laugh with his whole being. He exhausted us all, even Adam.
I once left Jakob on the couch next to Adam. He often cried when he wasn't within touching distance of me, and I needed to make a meal for a sick friend, so I Adam had to help. When I finally finished the stuffed shells (I couldn't have chosen something a little more simple?), I picked up the fussy baby and he stopped crying. Tired little Adam asked, "Mommy, can't we just put him back?" I explained that we couldn't, and Adam spent the afternoon writing me a note on a small post it. It read, "I hate you, Mommy." The words were accompanied by an unhappy face with three tears.
As intensely as Jakob needed to move and play, he also needed downtime. As a toddler, I would often find him lying on his belly with his face cupped in his hands watching the ants on the back patio, or outside under a tree or plant watching the leaves move. In nursery school, a very busy place indeed, he "checked out" when he needed a break by moving outside the circle of friends and laying down for awhile.
Jakob loved his Grandpa Gordy. Grandpa Gordy would sit at his desk holding Jakob and they had private conversations no one ever heard. They liked to rub tummies and it wasn't at all unusual to see Jakob's shirt pulled up and Grandpa's shirt pulled up for the tummy rubbing. Odd to witness, but they were both perfectly content in those moments, moments Grandpa Gordy called his "Jake-breaks".
As Jakob grew, he channeled his energy into sports, and sports remain his great passion. He's fairly convinced he'll be a professional athlete. When I gently encouraged him to have a back-up plan, I discovered he might be right about his future. Those "in-the-know" think he's a talented athlete. When he's playing a sport, his whole energy is focused on what's happening in that particular moment, and it's a joy to behold. He focuses the same intensity we see him use in games to each skill development task, whether it's shooting a three-point shot or hitting a baseball to a spot his dad chooses. I once asked him his favorite sport, and he replied, "Whichever one I'm playing at that moment."
Now in ninth grade and the tallest person in his family, he's about to move into a new independence in his life - the driving years. God bless us all!
This boy has been going places since the moment he was born, and we're looking foward to see where he settles.
Happy Birthday, Jakob!
Comments
Post a Comment