I Just Want You to Know (13 page)
Read I Just Want You to Know Online
Authors: Kate Gosselin
Dear Leah,
Oh my little dainty princess! What a lovely addition you are to our family, tiny though you are. At birth, you were actually the largest girl, second in size only to Collin. It’s amazing to think now how you could have been 2 pounds 14.8 ounces and end up my teeniest child. In our world of preemies, almost three pounds was like ten pounds.
You sailed through your time in the neonatal unit—without an issue or a problem as you spent your days next to the large window with a view identical to mine from the ten weeks prior. Had you been aware enough, you could have watched the deer family I observed regularly through the window on that side of the hospital. Their antics occupied my many spare hours while you steadily grew in my belly.
You were exquisite (as Great Grandma always said) and perfect in every way from day one. You had a lot of dark brown hair on your head—and on your arms and back! Your cheeks were rosy and you were so very precious.
The story of your name is an interesting one. I had always wanted a “Morgan” since I had babysat for many years and loved a little girl by this name. Daddy and I both loved the name and thought that was settled. But as time passed, I realized I didn’t want to confuse things by giving genderneutral names, so I began to rethink it. I remembered a little
Korean girl in Great Grandma’s church by the name of Leah, and she was beyond precious. She was always happy and giggling, which caused me to not only love her but also her name! So Leah you were.
In keeping with Alexis’s and Hannah’s middle names, we decided to call you Leah Hope. Our prayers gave us much hope that all six of you would be born alive and healthy. As you know now, Leah, that prayer has been answered completely!
I count your health and the health of your brothers and sisters as my biggest blessing—especially on rough days, when the bickering is overwhelming and being a single mommy of eight kids begins to feel like too much. I try to always see the positive in everything, which allows me to step back and be grateful that you are “able” to bicker and fight—even when you come zooming into the kitchen to tattle for the nine hundredth time in an hour, Leah!
Although cute, you were a difficult baby—not in temperament but in feeding. You had reflux, which caused you to vomit nearly every drop of every feeding. It became a challenge to avoid jostling you so that you wouldn’t “lose your lunch,” literally. Nanny Joan, as you know, lovingly fed you daily and sat among the many drop cloths that covered the sofa, often wearing the contents of your bottle no matter how careful she was. She happily made it her self-assigned task to see to it that you kept your food where it belonged. She loves you so much, Leah! I appreciated Nanny Joan’s help much more than I remembered to tell her. But I know that some of your first smiles flashed in her direction were surely thanks enough for her.
It became apparent to me that Nanny Joan knew almost better than I how to feed you, and it made me sad. It was difficult for Mommy to miss out on so many feedings and
snuggles with each of you, but I had to allow others to help and fill in the gaps where I wasn’t enough. I remember wanting to pluck all six of you from the arms of your feeders and run. Just because I had six babies didn’t mean that I didn’t love each of you as if you were my one and only. In fact, I struggled constantly with the guilt I felt because I had to divide myself—and still do—in so many ways.
Over time, as I’ve learned to be a more positive thinker, I’ve come to realize that the love and the support of close family and friends was important and good for you—and a close second to my mommy love.
As you grew that first year, you easily overcame the reflux and developed completely normally. Whew! I’ve often wondered if your rough start caused you to drop from my biggest girl to my tiny princess, as I call you.
You were my first and most enunciated talker. I also give Nanny Joan the credit for that, as she told you volumes day after day as you both sat still as statues in that drape covered throne…I mean, chair. You were so little, but crystal clear when voicing your requests, concerns, complaints, and desires—and everyone else’s issues for that matter. Many times I have just cracked up at your mature and unexpected responses! Just today I asked you a question, and your answer was a very poised, “Why yes, I do!” As usual, I had to chuckle at the uniqueness of you!
As you have grown, I have enjoyed your contribution to our family. You add an excitement that only you can add. You are pleasant and kind and helpful. I admire the fact that you interact and love each of your brothers and sisters equally.
Please always remember what I tell you often at the dinner table: “Look around you. These are your best friends. They will be
by your side helping you long after I am gone. Other friends will come and go, but these are your true friends.” These are important words to remember. Please always strive to remain close to your family. It may be difficult at times, but don’t ever allow anything to entice you to become disloyal to those who are closest to you. The perceived benefit of friends will never outweigh the bond you have with family. Strong bonds with trustworthy allies will help you survive in a world where loyalty is cashed in regularly to get ahead in life. Always remain dedicated to those who have proven their loyalty. I promise you, it will be worth the struggle.
Recently our family life has changed. I know that you have wrestled with these changes. It is evident to me that you are sad; and when you are sad, I am sad. I just want you to know that I am here for you and that my love for you will never change. I will be your “same mommy” for all of time. Nothing and no one will ever take your place in my heart.
You recently told me, “I’ve waited my entire life” for something on your Christmas list; just the same, I’ve waited my entire life to be your mommy. I want to walk beside you, holding your hand as you grow and learn to navigate the sometimes scary, sometimes happy, and sometimes difficult times ahead of you. I dream for you a successful career, a happy marriage, and a fulfilling family life. Come to me when you need a hug, a hand, or just your mommy with a heart that swells with love for you—today, tomorrow, and forever. I’m here for you!
Love forever and always, no matter what,
Mommy
PLAYING SAFE
After the show started airing, our privacy disappeared. People would run up on our porch and take pictures through our windows, park in front of our house to watch our kids ride their bikes, park on the side of our house to watch them play in the backyard. We couldn’t do anything to stop it. We were on display like fish in an aquarium. Our house was also close to the road without fencing, so the front and back of the house were exposed. We constantly had people stopping by to try to see our kids. We couldn’t even let them play outside on the weekends, as people would take photos and post them on the Internet.
Our lives got more complicated with public appearances and other media that came along with it; but we realized we could never go back to our pre-public days, and we still needed to provide for our family.
We already couldn’t develop our photos because of the security
risks of the photos being taken and posted online or worse, sold. To this day, thousands of family pictures are filed away on the computer, waiting to be printed. People—and this is just fans of the show at this point—would come up to the bay window at the front of our house and take photos. We had to keep the blinds drawn at all times to try to regain pieces of our privacy.
In the fall of 2007, one specific eye-opening event occurred. Our family had an appearance on a local cable show. While we were waiting to go onstage, a man was in the waiting area who claimed he was somebody’s driver. He put our kids on his lap and took pictures of them, and nobody could do anything to get rid of him. I kept mentioning my discomfort as politely as possible, but whenever he was asked to leave, he kept reappearing. I felt powerless and completely creeped out; so from then on, we traveled with security at my insistence and had the total support of the network. There was no going back.
Besides, it was essential for safety. With eight small kids in airports and just two of us, what were Jon and I going to do if someone snatched one from us? We had seven others to keep an eye on. Security assistance meant we could just focus on our kids and let someone else watch people’s intentions.
It always thrills me when my kids have the privilege of flying.
Overzealous attention was bad enough, but when those actions turned into vandalism, it became ugly. Our mailbox was destroyed several times, our house was egged, among other things. We were already confined inside with the blinds drawn the majority of the time, and I felt horrible because this was no life for any kid. They need to be free to run outside and play. So I constantly felt torn between keeping them safe and allowing them a normal childhood. They just wanted to ride their bikes on the driveway. Seriously, was that too much to ask?
They just wanted to ride their bikes on the driveway.
At the request of the network, a security review was completed on our house and it highlighted areas where security needed to be improved. Unfortunately, neighborhood building codes prevented us from making the necessary adjustments, so we needed to look into a more secure home location.
It took awhile for us to find the right house. When we finally found it, we had a moving plan in place set for the end of November, right before the holidays. It couldn’t come soon enough for us.
That summer when we were on a vacation in North Carolina, Jon and I said to each other, “Let’s just not go home. Let’s stay here.” If only! We dreaded going home.
When we were home, I would wake up every single morning and the first thing I would think about was, “Where can we go? How can we get away from here? Where can we go where people aren’t staring in our windows?” I felt there was never anywhere we could go to get away from the prying eyes. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, cars were parked along the street. People were watching us
at every moment. I would look out my window and see somebody with a camera pointed into my bedroom window taking a picture. We were constantly reminded that we couldn’t keep our own children safe. As a mom, I was horrified. I felt like I wasn’t doing my job.
I started viewing everyone as our enemies. I’m sure most of them didn’t mean any harm; they were just curious. Each person driving by probably thought he or she was the only one who drove by our house. What they didn’t realize is that “just one person” five hundred times a day gets excessive day after day after day after day. We felt bad for our neighbors because we brought so much chaos to the neighborhood. Besides the fans (and vandals), tabloids started calling the neighbors, and reporters started knocking on their doors in addition to our own.
We needed to get out of there fast.
The last straw came unexpectedly one October morning. As I headed out to work on a new book with my editor, I jumped in our white minivan and as I started to back out, I realized it had two flat tires. Annoying, but I could just take the Big Blue Bus instead. When I saw that the bus had two flats as well, I noted that this was not an accident. After closer inspection, I saw large gashes in the tires and realized that someone with a knife had walked up our driveway and deliberately slashed them in the middle of the night.
I ran back in the house and yelled, “Jon, we need to move now!”
I had heard there was a lot of anger toward me on the Internet, but why would someone do this? I not only felt violated—and upset, since we now had to pay for four new tires—but I no longer felt we could keep our kids safe. The crime happened right underneath Mady and Cara’s room. What was to stop this person, who was obviously armed with a weapon on my driveway, from taking it further? He could have just as easily smashed the windows, entered the house, hurt our children, and set the whole house on fire.
My mind was not lacking in coming up with horrible scenarios. Since people were coming up and knocking on our door, what was to
stop them from acting out my worst nightmare—abducting one of my kids? One adult in charge of eight kids was not good odds to be able to stop somebody. We needed to move immediately.
As we put the plan in motion to move that fall weekend, I realized that our circumstances had drastically changed. We moved in as a happy little family—okay, maybe not so little, but certainly naive—and moved out older and wiser.
We moved in with a U-Haul truck, but moved out with a security company and unmarked trucks so no one would know our new address—or that we were moving at all!
We moved in not thinking twice about giving out our email, cell, address, and other personal contact info, but moved out only sharing our post office box address with the outside world.
We moved in grateful and excited if someone dropped off a package on our doorstep, but moved out having been instructed by our security team not to open any unexpected items.
You can imagine that we did start to question our chosen profession with the increasing security issues. But any parent with a dangerous job has to make the same choices. Think about cops, fire-fighters, and military personnel. I’m not comparing skills, only the risks involved in any chosen career. Every job has its ups and downs, and we still saw this job as having far more benefits than risks: We were able to work at home with our kids, paychecks were coming in to pay our bills, our kids were able to travel and have experiences they wouldn’t have had otherwise.
What it really came down to, though, was that privacy infringement and security risks—which were the negatives of this job—would continue even if we stopped the show immediately, but without the positives.
So once again, we found ourselves in unusual territory. Our differences did not stop with having two sets of multiples. Everything about our lives felt weird and abnormal at that point. I still struggled to make life as normal as possible, but frankly, we never were normal—from the way we went about things to the places we went, the times of day, and the days of the week that we had to go anywhere.
Thankfully, the house we were moving into would let our kids have as much of a “normal” childhood as possible. They wouldn’t be locked indoors with the blinds closed anymore. Thank God!
When we went as a family to see the new house for the first time, Leah gasped and said, “Thank you, Mommy!” as we pulled up to the driveway. Seeing a four-year-old that appreciative is so rewarding. Those kinds of reactions are why I can keep going. When we opened the door, all eight kids began screaming and took off running in various directions throughout the house.
They love that house so much. In our old house in Elizabethtown, day in and day out, no one could get away from each other—no rest, no quiet, no privacy. Kids were in every nook and cranny—with no personal space except their own beds. Some of my first memories of the new house include seeing Aaden sitting on the couch, reading a book alone, without someone bothering him. I had never seen this happen in the old house. It was just too small. While it looked big on TV and served its purpose well, we really didn’t have enough room for everyone, and the kids didn’t have their own space.
Even though people now know where our new house is, it provides space and security. If our kids can’t always go out in the real world safely, at least they can run around protected in their own house and yard. And I’ve now learned the ropes of what to do to keep them out of harm’s way. Looking back, I see that I did not always handle situations well, and I probably seemed like a safety nut. (Okay, let’s face it, I’m still a safety nut!) But no matter what the situation is, as mothers, our first priority is our kids’ safety, health, and well-being.
I also have to remind myself that while I’ve taken every safety precaution possible, their safety is still not 100 percent guaranteed. I learned quickly when I was pregnant with the six that ultimately I have to trust God. I can’t control the outcome, but I do pray constantly for God’s protection. When they’re on the school bus, I pray for them. When I’m out of town, I pray for them. When they’re driving in the car with other people or in someone else’s care, I pray for them.
And now that I can let go and trust God for my kids’ safety, I can look back fondly on those past few years we lived at that house with the red door on Andrew Avenue. I learned quite a bit there, and those lessons are the foundation we’re building our life on now.
I’ve learned how to better control my drama and how to handle things differently. I don’t let every little thing bother me anymore. When we first moved into that house, if someone spilled a glass of milk, it would send me over the edge and ruin my day. Now I don’t even blink. I hand the mess-maker a paper towel and move on.
Overall my perspective on what is really important has changed. And I’d like to think these changes are for the better and will continue to help me deal with whatever comes my way. I’d also like to think that these changes set a positive example for my kids when they see me navigating the unexpected twists and turns of life that come my way daily.
