I keep thinking about writing about my past week, but I don't have the words. Each time I try, I fall short because what words could there possibly be for the emotions behind bringing my dad to the hospital on Tuesday night and having him die on Sunday?
We took my dad to the ER on Tuesday evening because he had been lying in bed for about a week. He said he was constantly tired, dizzy, and without appetite. I forced him to go to the family doctor on Tuesday during the day, and she called later and said that his numbers were all wrong, and we had better take him now to the ER. Dad was in bed, so I knocked on the door, and he groaned.
"Dad, the doctor called and said we need to take you to the emergency room."
"Uhhh. Right now? Whyyy?"
"Dad, she said that your blood count is very low, and your liver enzymes are high. Don't you want to go to the hospital now, so that you can feel better sooner?"
Dad got up, and we took him to the ER. We were given a beeper with a number 37 on it. My dad was so confused that every time they called a number, he would stand up and say that it was our turn.
"100!"
"That's me!"
"No, Dad, we are number 37."
(A little later) "104!"
"That's me!"
"Dad, look at our beeper. It says 37."
This memory makes me laugh, although my dad was a very intelligent man, and when you think about how this was indicative that there was a health problem, it is a little less funny. Anyway, we get in to see the doctor, and the doctor suggests it might be liver disease. He takes blood tests, and he says that Dad will need a blood transfusion, and they will keep him overnight. Dad kept trying to get us to leave because he was worried about TJ going to work the next day and me picking up Blake. Eventually, we did go home before he got admitted to the hospital.
The next day (Wed.), I called the hospital to find out what was going on, and they said they were taking him for a CT scan of his lungs because Dad was saying he was short of breath. So when the test was over, Blake and I went in to see him. He was exhausted because they had him up all night with tests and things. So we only stayed for a few minutes. I told him I was going to let him rest, and we would come back in the evening. But when we arrived that evening, he was sleeping. I didn't want to wake him. We spoke to the doctor, and the third word out of his mouth was "oncology." I knew what that word meant, so before he even talked about the diagnosis, I knew what he was going to say. He told us that Dad had cancer in his liver and his lungs, as well as a few other health concerns. He did not know yet the extent of the damage and what treatments might be helpful, but he said we should talk with my dad about what measures he might want to take. When I got home, I had to make phone calls to my family that Dad has cancer.
On Thursday morning, I got a call that they were going to do a biopsy in the morning, so Blake and I were going to go to the library for playtime and head to the hospital afterward. On my way to the library, they called me to say that Dad had trouble breathing after his test and do I give permission to put in a breathing tube. My answer was YES YES YES! I turned the car around and headed to the hospital where my whole family was there waiting. Apparently the doctor had told my aunt that she better tell everyone to come because this might be it. My dad was in the ICU. He was sedated with a breathing tube. It was hard to see him, but he was peacefully sleeping at that time. The biopsy on his lung, where they had punctured to get some tissue out, made him bleed, and he couldn't breathe. He was coughing up a lot of blood (but not too much by the time I saw him). They said that the next step was to turn the sedation off in the morning and let him wake up so they could remove the breathing tube.
On Friday morning, they turned off sedation and told me that Dad would probably be awake by the afternoon. So I went in during the afternoon, but Dad was not awake. They said due to the damage in his liver, he would probably take a while to flush out the sedation meds. I was all alone on Friday, and it was terrifying to see Dad like that. He was coughing a lot, which sounded like vomiting. And he was moving around. It was on Friday that I just held his hand and talked to him a lot, trying to comfort him. He seemed so distressed. He opened his eyes a little, but he didn't focus them. There was one time that I was sure he was looking at me, and I said, "Dad, you know I love you, right?" And he nodded. That was the last two-way communication we had.
On Saturday morning, the doctor called me to say that Dad would have weeks to live at most, with the breathing tube or without. They were fairly certain he could breathe on his own, but they aren't allowed to take the tube out if Dad wasn't cognitively able to follow commands that they gave him (i.e. wiggle your toes, squeeze my hand). They said we needed to figure out when we would want to take the tube out, and in the event that he needed his heart restarted, would he really want that if he knew he would only live "weeks at most" more? These are not easy questions to answer. My dad has a living will that states he doesn't want to live on machines in the event of an incurable disease. Jason and I decided that Dad would not want to keep having this breathing tube and hydration machine sustaining his life. We didn't know if Dad would breathe on his own afterward, so we told all family who wanted to be there, they ought to say goodbye just in case. We were expecting that Dad might die that day, so my brother and I kind of made peace that day and said our goodbyes. There were many people there, which was really great. Dad tolerated the extubation, and when we left that evening, he was stable and breathing at 85%.
On Sunday morning, I called to check up on him, and they said that he was still stable, and they were going to move him out of the ICU. At this point, we knew it was just a waiting game for his death because of the decisions we had made. I chose not to go in that morning because sitting by his bedside was not comforting for him or for me. Dad was on high doses of morphine at that point, so he was sleeping peacefully and not aware of our presence. I was planning on stopping in after lunch time, so I called to check again at that point, and that is when the nurse told me he had just passed (probably a minute before my phone call). And it was weird. We were expecting it at any moment, and yet, when I called, I was expecting her to say there were no changes. And the weird thing about situations like this is that you kind of just want to curl up in a ball, but there are phone calls to be made. I made those phone calls, and TJ and I headed in to see him. Seeing my dad this time was much different because I didn't see his chest rise and fall. It was too hard, I only stayed in the room for a minute.
We went back home, and I cried myself to sleep thinking about how cruel this week had been. I can say without hesitation that I am at peace, given the circumstances, with the medical decisions that we made and the fact that he went so quickly. But why the hell did the circumstances have to be like that in the first place? A week ago, we were just at home wondering why Dad was sleeping all the time. And a week before that, Dad was up and moving, complaining that he was feeling sick. And a week before that, he was 100% normal, fully functioning.
So now I am left to handle the arrangements, figure out the financials (when the medical bills start rolling in), and sort through my dad's files and belongings. This is too much for someone to handle, especially a pregnant woman with a sick toddler. Shouldn't I just be grieving right now instead of being bombarded with questions and decisions? Doesn't anyone understand that in a whirlwind, I just lost my dad? I don't know what else to say or how to finish this post.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
It's a....
While I realize I never wrote the second installment about cloth diapering, I have something much more exciting to write about. At this point, the sex of our baby is probably old news, but it is very exciting to me! To preface, I should mention that I really wanted a girl this time around. We are planning for only two children, and I would love to have the experience of a mommy-daughter relationship. I do love having a boy though, so I wasn't necessarily set on either gender.
At the ultrasound, the tech was doing some of the more "boring" measurements of the baby since TJ was late getting there, and as she was measuring something and was zoomed out, I saw it. The thing. The determining factor. I didn't say anything, though, because I thought maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. But a few minutes later when TJ got there, the tech gave the verdict: it's a boy. Yep, I knew I saw a thing!
I felt a hint of disappointment, but it was, as always, a beautiful thing to see the baby that you are growing in your body on a screen. This child that you love but you don't know yet moving around. We even saw him rub his eyes and yawn! My love grew for him that day. And even though he is not a girl, I love knowing more about who he is. HE is the child God has gifted and entrusted to me. There are some things I may "miss out on" by not having a daughter, but there is something beautiful about picturing all the things we will experience raising two boys.
We found out the gender of the baby on a Tuesday, and we were having a gender reveal party with our friends on Friday, so I had to keep my big mouth shut for a few days. Luckily, I was able to get my energy out by telling family and some friends who don't live in the area. The party was a fun time (even though I forgot to serve dessert), and we did a dance to a Justin Bieber song, and then I lifted my shirt (halfway) to reveal a blue heart on my stomach. Most people had guessed it was a girl (probably because they knew that's what I was hoping for).
Anyway, I had picked a name for him, and TJ wasn't quite sure about it. But it grew him on, so we "tried it out" by calling the baby this name for a while, and it just feels right to me. So he has a name that I am in love with. :-) I am not publicizing the name, but some people know what it is. We just aren't publicizing it. Facebook has made it seem like everything is everyone's business, but I prefer to keep some things just for us.
Is Blake excited about having a baby brother? He will be, someday. For now he doesn't quite understand. He used to point to my belly when I asked where is the baby. But when I ask where is your baby brother, or where is baby _____, he doesn't respond. We're working on it.
I am excited to be the mother of two adorable and crazy boys. Our family is truly blessed, and I pray that this sweet boy would continue to grow stronger and healthier every day! And come before the end of the year... just kidding. But seriously.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
WHY I Cloth Diaper
There are many, many benefits to cloth diapering your babies. I always wanted to cloth diaper, but my mom scared me away from it because she had tried it with my brother and so many leaking problems. Well, folks, as my mom learned, cloth diapering has come a long way since then. She hates when I put Blake in disposables; she can't figure out how to put them on (don't ask me, I know it's quite simple). Anyway, I'm no expert on the topic, but I have been cloth diapering for nearly 18 months, and I have researched the various options many times over. Here are a few reasons I'm so thankful that I chose to cloth diaper my babies:
1. Cloth diapering is so cute. How cute are those bright colors and patterns? There are so many options! Especially if money isn't an issue for you. (Some people kind of go crazy with cloth diapers and buy "exclusive patterns" for $50 a pop or more! It's insane to me, but that's their choice. Not mine, for sure.)
2. Cloth diapering is green. If you don't care about disposable diapers sitting in a landfill for 100,000 years (which you should, but that's another story), consider the fact that disposable diapers contain lots of harsh chemicals that you put on your baby's bum. Blake has never had a problem with diaper rash because of cloth diapering. Plus we never had problems with blow out poops!
3. Cloth diapering is economical. For Blake, we use Best Bottoms, which I love, but if I could do it over again, I would choose something even more economical. So Blake has 4 Best Bottom covers, 17 hemp inserts, and 3 overnight doubler inserts. This cost approximately $186. I also bought cloth wipes, which I think cost maybe $30. The only other thing needed is a wet bag. I spent more than needed on wet bags, but I have a small one (for small trips), a medium (for a day trip), and two large hanging wetbags (to keep all for laundry day). Those probably ran me $100 total. So we are talking about a little more than $300. When I'm done using these with my two children, I will be able to sell them and get some of my money back. How much have you spent on your disposable diapers and your wipes? More on how to do cloth diapering in the most economical way coming soon...
4. Cloth diapering is easier and less gross than you think. I do two small loads of diaper laundry per week. It is definitely worth doing a little more laundry for the money I have saved. I don't really touch poop any more than you do. I wipe the bum, and then use a wipe or toilet paper to nudge the poop off the diaper and into the toilet. When Blake's poop was runny in the early days, I snapped the diapers just like you fold over a poopy disposable (we were using pocket diapers at the time), and I just unsnapped them and put it in the washer on laundry day.
I love cloth diapering, and I am so thankful that I have chosen to do it. We don't struggle to afford diapers, and we never have to run to the store because we are low on diapers. I will soon be cloth diapering two babies. You may say it's impossible to cloth diaper when you have two or more in diapers, but isn't it even more worth it when you consider the cost of buying disposables for multiple children? I would rather spend a little more time doing laundry in my life so that we have a little extra money to do something fun together and so I have a little less financial struggle!
You may be thinking, "But I work full time," or "But I don't have a washer/dryer." Neither of these are factors in my life, so I can't speak to that. You have to make the right decision for you and your family, but I think so many people don't even consider cloth diapering as an option. And it is an option that would benefit so many families who are currently struggling with finances! So give it a thought. Don't automatically think that it's gross or impossible or too expensive or time consuming.
2. Cloth diapering is green. If you don't care about disposable diapers sitting in a landfill for 100,000 years (which you should, but that's another story), consider the fact that disposable diapers contain lots of harsh chemicals that you put on your baby's bum. Blake has never had a problem with diaper rash because of cloth diapering. Plus we never had problems with blow out poops!
3. Cloth diapering is economical. For Blake, we use Best Bottoms, which I love, but if I could do it over again, I would choose something even more economical. So Blake has 4 Best Bottom covers, 17 hemp inserts, and 3 overnight doubler inserts. This cost approximately $186. I also bought cloth wipes, which I think cost maybe $30. The only other thing needed is a wet bag. I spent more than needed on wet bags, but I have a small one (for small trips), a medium (for a day trip), and two large hanging wetbags (to keep all for laundry day). Those probably ran me $100 total. So we are talking about a little more than $300. When I'm done using these with my two children, I will be able to sell them and get some of my money back. How much have you spent on your disposable diapers and your wipes? More on how to do cloth diapering in the most economical way coming soon...
4. Cloth diapering is easier and less gross than you think. I do two small loads of diaper laundry per week. It is definitely worth doing a little more laundry for the money I have saved. I don't really touch poop any more than you do. I wipe the bum, and then use a wipe or toilet paper to nudge the poop off the diaper and into the toilet. When Blake's poop was runny in the early days, I snapped the diapers just like you fold over a poopy disposable (we were using pocket diapers at the time), and I just unsnapped them and put it in the washer on laundry day.
I love cloth diapering, and I am so thankful that I have chosen to do it. We don't struggle to afford diapers, and we never have to run to the store because we are low on diapers. I will soon be cloth diapering two babies. You may say it's impossible to cloth diaper when you have two or more in diapers, but isn't it even more worth it when you consider the cost of buying disposables for multiple children? I would rather spend a little more time doing laundry in my life so that we have a little extra money to do something fun together and so I have a little less financial struggle!
You may be thinking, "But I work full time," or "But I don't have a washer/dryer." Neither of these are factors in my life, so I can't speak to that. You have to make the right decision for you and your family, but I think so many people don't even consider cloth diapering as an option. And it is an option that would benefit so many families who are currently struggling with finances! So give it a thought. Don't automatically think that it's gross or impossible or too expensive or time consuming.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
a love song
You have changed me. From the moment I found out that you were growing inside of me, something changed. My body wasn't just about me anymore. When I felt you stirring and moving, I felt awestruck in a way that I have never experienced before. When I experienced aches and pains because you were getting big, I had to remind myself that you were going to be worth it. And you were. I waited a long time for you. You grew in my body and did not want to leave (and you are still attached to my hip!). I forced you out against your will and ended up with surgery. But you came out one way or another, and you cried a lot. You didn't sleep quite as much as a newborn was supposed to. And you continued to have sleeping issues for A LONG TIME. You made me more exhausted and more elated than I had ever been in my entire life.
I have seen beautiful things in this world in Paris, London, Rome, and Venice. But nothing compares to how beautiful you are. Your eyes are so bright and full of wonder. Your body is so tiny and cuddly. Your laugh is the most infectious thing. I wish I could bottle it up to reminisce on your graduation day and your wedding day. I wish I could bottle up your hugs and kisses to save for a day when you no longer want to be attached to my hip.
You have made my heart grow bigger. You have made me care about some things more and some things less. You have made me grow in respect for what I am capable of and what my body is capable of. Growing you and nourishing you with my breasts for the first 16 months of your life has been the most holy experience and has made me more in awe of God's design than ever before.
Seeing you run around the yard, putting puzzles together, climbing stairs all by yourself makes me realize time is moving too quickly. So I will let you nap on me until you get too impossibly heavy to accommodate. I will welcome your distraction from my tasks so we can just enjoy giggling together. I will not be annoyed when you grab onto my leg when I am trying to do my Wii Fit exercise. I will not stress that you aren't talking yet because you are already growing up too quickly. I will not try to force you to "measure up" to the other kids your age because you move at your own pace, and you are your own person. I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. You beat to your own drum, just like your mom and dad.
Soon you will have a new brother or sister, and I will be busy taking care of the demands of a baby. But it will not lessen my love for you or my fierce desire to spend time with just you and me. It will never lessen, no matter how many "I hate you, Mom"s, "I am quitting college to be a musician"s, or "I don't want to raise my kids the same way you did"s that you may throw at me. This new brother or sister of yours might mean that we don't get quite as much time together just me and you. But you, along with your brother or sister, will be my most precious treasures, and I will always value you more than you may ever understand.
I have seen beautiful things in this world in Paris, London, Rome, and Venice. But nothing compares to how beautiful you are. Your eyes are so bright and full of wonder. Your body is so tiny and cuddly. Your laugh is the most infectious thing. I wish I could bottle it up to reminisce on your graduation day and your wedding day. I wish I could bottle up your hugs and kisses to save for a day when you no longer want to be attached to my hip.
You have made my heart grow bigger. You have made me care about some things more and some things less. You have made me grow in respect for what I am capable of and what my body is capable of. Growing you and nourishing you with my breasts for the first 16 months of your life has been the most holy experience and has made me more in awe of God's design than ever before.
Seeing you run around the yard, putting puzzles together, climbing stairs all by yourself makes me realize time is moving too quickly. So I will let you nap on me until you get too impossibly heavy to accommodate. I will welcome your distraction from my tasks so we can just enjoy giggling together. I will not be annoyed when you grab onto my leg when I am trying to do my Wii Fit exercise. I will not stress that you aren't talking yet because you are already growing up too quickly. I will not try to force you to "measure up" to the other kids your age because you move at your own pace, and you are your own person. I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. You beat to your own drum, just like your mom and dad.
Soon you will have a new brother or sister, and I will be busy taking care of the demands of a baby. But it will not lessen my love for you or my fierce desire to spend time with just you and me. It will never lessen, no matter how many "I hate you, Mom"s, "I am quitting college to be a musician"s, or "I don't want to raise my kids the same way you did"s that you may throw at me. This new brother or sister of yours might mean that we don't get quite as much time together just me and you. But you, along with your brother or sister, will be my most precious treasures, and I will always value you more than you may ever understand.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
here we go again...
I found out after the MS Walk that... I was pregnant. I told TJ before we looked at the results, "Either we are pregnant now, or I'm going on birth control." We went back and forth so many times about whether the timing was "good" or not. Apparently, this is the time God chose for us. We had just started trying! But according to my last period, I was 8 weeks pregnant already. Which was awesome. So I called the doctor and made an appointment right away and, also, signed up for an ultrasound because we just wanted to make sure about the due date because I had taken pregnancy tests that turned out negative when they should have been positive.
At the ultrasound, this is what I saw:
The ultrasound tech said I was only 5 weeks along. Which was disappointing. But then she scared the crap out of me by saying I needed to get another ultrasound in two weeks to make sure IF there's still an embryo. Uhh... IF?! So for two weeks, I was a mess. And part of me thought, well, maybe God DOESN'T think now is the right timing for another baby... I tried to relax, though. I have always had irregular periods, so it made sense that I was not as far along. My due date went from December 7th to (by my calculations) December 31st.
After two weeks, I went back and saw this:
There's a little peanut in there! What a relief! She measured me at 6 weeks and 6 days. Which set me back even further! Peanut's new due date is January 2nd. Seriously, little one?! Don't know you anything about the importance of tax credits? ;-)
I was reassured during my two week anxious waiting period because I was having terrible nausea! It was awful. But it has not been bad for the past few days, which is great. I'm also having a lot of aversions, so the foods I have been eating has not always been the healthiest. Sandwiches, pastas, cheese. But I'm going to try my hardest to be healthier this time around, including lots of exercise!
Baby has already run two 5ks!
On a different note, we have sent postcards to TJ's family with the first picture on this post (the math equation) as an announcement that we were expecting, and we never heard from anyone. And we gave the postcards out to my family at Mother's Day, and there wasn't much response. This is incredibly difficult for us because there is a lot of unknown in our life right now. TJ is looking for a new job, and we are currently living at my Dad's house (with, most likely, no option to stay because there's no room for another baby here.) Is that why we haven't heard a response? Because people think we made the wrong decision? I don't know. But Little Peanut is coming, and we could use the support. And we would like to celebrate! We haven't had much chance to celebrate, between the anxiousness of whether the second ultrasound would show progress or not and the lack of support from family. My friends are really happy for us, which is great. But family support is a whole different ballgame.
Have we wondered whether now is a good time or not? Well, who defines good timing? God does. Not me. So ready or not, here we go again...
Friday, April 11, 2014
the big race
My brother and I started the race at the very end of the last group. This group was called "walkers," so we quickly passed by everyone in our group. After two miles, my brother ditched me, and I was left to pace for myself. The first five/six miles were easy, and then it started to get more difficult. Each mile marker seemed to get further and further away.
By the time that the running got more difficult, I stopped passing people and started to keep pace with the same group of people. There was a pregnant woman, an older woman, and an overweight man, among others. In my despair at the perceived extended length of mile 7-8 and 8-9, I started to feel bad about myself that these people could keep pace with me. Why couldn't I run faster? I'm not pregnant, old, OR overweight! But you know what "difficulty" I have? A weak mind. In fact, I almost bought a shirt to wear for the race that said "mind over matter" because THAT is what my struggle is. I had to overcome my mind that so easily wanted to make excuses about why I couldn't run the race that day and why I needed to walk instead of run. I had to tell myself that even if I didn't love where I was right now, it was where I was. So I might as well give it my all so that I don't have any regrets afterward. For me, that meant no walking. Even if it meant I ran really slowly when I needed to. And I did it.
The funny thing is that everyone was released in groups, and like I said earlier, we started at the very end of the last group. So the group I ended up keeping pace with, the pregnant woman, the older woman, and the overweight man, may have actually started their race 10 minutes before me. So while my mind is wandering with self-deprecating thoughts, these other runners may have actually had 10 more minutes on their clock than I did. Maybe and maybe not. I don't know what they were overcoming by running in that race. I don't know their stories. But we all have one. And that's why running is so powerful. We ALL have obstacles to overcome in life, and running a race proves to us that we can overcome! The definition of victory will be different for everyone. My victory was overcoming my mind and running the entire race. I'm not necessarily in a hurry to do a race like this again, but to know that I can makes me feel so powerful. It's a great feeling.
Best part of the race? When I saw TJ on the side lines at about 9.1 miles, and he ran with me across the finish line, hand in hand. That's something I will remember for the rest of my life.
(By the way, this is not meant to say that I think I'm better than pregnant, older, or overweight people. Mad props to these people for running 9.3 mile races! My point is that I'm not better than them, but I'm also not lesser.)
The funny thing is that everyone was released in groups, and like I said earlier, we started at the very end of the last group. So the group I ended up keeping pace with, the pregnant woman, the older woman, and the overweight man, may have actually started their race 10 minutes before me. So while my mind is wandering with self-deprecating thoughts, these other runners may have actually had 10 more minutes on their clock than I did. Maybe and maybe not. I don't know what they were overcoming by running in that race. I don't know their stories. But we all have one. And that's why running is so powerful. We ALL have obstacles to overcome in life, and running a race proves to us that we can overcome! The definition of victory will be different for everyone. My victory was overcoming my mind and running the entire race. I'm not necessarily in a hurry to do a race like this again, but to know that I can makes me feel so powerful. It's a great feeling.
Best part of the race? When I saw TJ on the side lines at about 9.1 miles, and he ran with me across the finish line, hand in hand. That's something I will remember for the rest of my life.
(By the way, this is not meant to say that I think I'm better than pregnant, older, or overweight people. Mad props to these people for running 9.3 mile races! My point is that I'm not better than them, but I'm also not lesser.)
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Regrowing Lettuce: A Letter To Mom
You left a big hole in our world when you went to heaven a year ago. Dad still doesn't know what to do with himself. And we are left to navigate parenting without your valuable advice and encouragement. Life is not the same without you.
Since you left, you have gained three more beautiful grandbabies. I love to picture your face beaming as it would be to see them all together and hear about them growing. I can just hear you telling story after story about how your babies gave you just as many headaches and more.
You might not be here to give us advice and encouragement as we go through the trials of parenting and marriage, but we have already learned many lessons from you. Even though I didn't have the privilege of knowing you for very long, I think of you often and am challenged to live my life in a more positive way because of your example.
I want to be more like you in my marriage. You and Dad went through many trials, but you stuck with it and came out stronger in the end. Your love for each other was so apparent to everyone. YOU made Dad a better man.
I want to be more like you as a mother. I want to raise good children like you did. I want to give them the best that I can, and I want them to know that I am always just a phone call away.
I want to be more like you as a woman. Your mobility may have been taken away, but you kept your spirit. You were always positive, and you always remembered that no matter what, you were blessed. You must have lived in pain, but you never wanted us to know it, and you never focused on yourself.
You should know that you have left behind a legacy. You might not be here anymore, but we will never forget you, and your memory will live on in our lives and in the lives of our children. Our children will never know you, but they will grow up hearing about you. They will hear about how deeply you and Poppop loved each other and how you were such a caring mother and how you called yourself "blessed" in the midst of disability. And they, too, will want to be more like you.
You are the roots to our lettuce. We will keep on growing because of YOU.
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