Pregnancy

I now fully understand what God was doing when he sentenced women with the pain of childbearing as one of the punishments for Adam's and Eve's sins.  I once thought women were getting off easy if you were to compare the two punishments given: a lifetime of work for the men and just a few hours of painful labor for the women.  Plus, some genius invented the epidural and so now we are given the option of skipping the pain altogether.

I naively thought childbearing was solely defined as the actual act of labor - the several hours of agony between when the first contraction starts and when the baby finally pops out.  I now think that the word childbearing may actually reference the entire nine months of having to carry the baby, also.  Because let me tell you, this is no walk in the park and I can almost hear God punishing me with these nine months for the consequence of my sin alone.

My first two pregnancies were a breeze.  I may have been a little bit more tired than usual but even using that as a complaint is a bit of a stretch.  I honestly don't remember much about when I was pregnant with Cale but I definitely remember my pregnancy with Riley as some of the best nine months of my life.  It is how I felt with her that made me think I wanted to do this again.  But now that I am doing this again, please let it be known and written in the history books that I will never, ever, want to do it again.  


This pregnancy has been one-hundred percent different than the last two.  My husband keeps wondering if his wife is ever going to return to him.  I'm even wondering if I will ever return to me.  I literally feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience, able to look on from afar and recognize how completely unreasonable I'm being and yet not having the energy or drive to do anything about it.  The last few months have been a tad better, I'll admit, as I don't think Alex has had to peek inside the door when he gets home from work to see what kind of house he's walking into.  I'm sure there were nights when he'd drive by the house and have the temptation to just keep on driving.  That's what I would have done if I were him.  You know it's true love when a guy can stick around through everything I've been putting him through.

Aside from my emotional instability, physically I feel like I've gotten hit and run over by an eighteen-wheeler.  At just six months pregnant I've already had the pregnant waddle for at least the last two.  I literally feel like one day I'll be walking down the street and !PLOP! my baby will fall out right there on the sidewalk.  The pressure is indescribable.  I keep going to the gym and trying with all my might to stick to my workout routine, but I'm pretty sure one of these times someone is going to have to escort me out in a wheelchair.  I have it in my head that the reason I felt so great when I was pregnant with Riley was because I exercised nearly every day, and so logically if I just keep at it I will start feeling normal again???  I'm not too sure my logic is very good.  I'm in a constant state of worry thinking, this cannot possibly be normal!  Something is wrong!  I lay in bed at night and cry myself to sleep because I am so afraid of having another premature baby.  I've been down that road once and I know for a fact that I never want to have to go through that again.  How does one NOT worry?  I've prayed since the very beginning that God would give me peace throughout this pregnancy but apparently He's trying to teach me something that I'm just not able to get through my thick skull.  I would love for just one day to be able to make it through without having an anxiety attack over thinking something is wrong.

Aside from all the worry and all the discomfort, I do remind myself daily that I am so blessed to be carrying another little human.  I try not to complain because I know nine months is a blink of an eye compared to the lifetime I will have with this child, but man, it sure would be nice to not feel like my body has been invaded and taken over by aliens.

Pregnancy.  What a journey!

Yes or No Questions Only, Please!

I'm not sure if I mentioned in my posts about our trip to Denver how special it was to have a week's worth of one-on-one time with my boy.  It brought me back to the days before Riley when all of my attention, love and affection could be devoted to just one child.  That almost seems like a lifetime ago.

Having that week with just Cale brought me so much closer to him, I feel.  I got to know him better, which seems silly considering I spend every minute of every day with him...what on earth could I possibly be missing?  A whole lot apparently.  He even fell asleep two or three times while I was holding him, which never happens.  Cale has never been one to snuggle and he's an extreme creature of habit (just like his daddy) who refuses to fall asleep anywhere but his own bed.  He won't even sleep in the car, which I think is just purely bizarre considering any length of time in the car puts me fast asleep.  Cale relished in being able to push the elevator button every time, never being forced to share a turn with his sister.  He got to play with his iPad without interference from Riley and never once had to listen to her drawn-out, hard-to-follow mythical stories.  He always got to sit in the preferred spot in the grocery cart and always had a free hand to hold if he wanted extra support while walking.  He was basically treated like a king and I loved every minute of being able to spoil him.  


Something even more amazing happened during that week, though.  For whatever reason, perhaps receiving feedback for every sound he made or every word he tried to say, he started gaining more control over his speech.  He can now say yeah, uh-oh, and uh-huh (no).  As long as you ask him yes or no questions, he can have a full conversations with you.  It became clear to me how monumental this was while he was talking to my mom on the phone yesterday.  Usually he signs his responses to her questions, which obviously does the person on the other end no good and which is why video chats are so great, but this time if she asked him yes or no questions he could respond with his mouth every time...and she could understand him!!!  It is so fun to hear him use words and it gives me great hope to know that even if he isn't fully verbal, he will slowly gain more and more control over the sounds he is able to make.

Now if only he would learn to say mommy.  

Birthday Bliss

I turned twenty-seven years old last week.  27!  I honestly still feel like I could blend in with the high school crowd, however when I look in the mirror and see more and more worry lines surface, I'm annoyingly reminded that I am indeed approaching, , thirty!  How can that be?!?!


In years past I haven't been much a fan of my birthday.  Birthdays were fun up until I turned eighteen but after that they lost that certain amount of excitement of turning a year older.  So when my birthday came around this year I didn't really look at it much differently than any other day.  My husband, however, had something else in mind.  


He went above and beyond himself to make each part of my day special.  It started off with little surprises in the morning and the surprises didn't stop until we went to bed.  His goal for my birthday was to make me feel extraordinarily special and I must say that he more than succeeded.  What a guy!

I was given several gifts throughout the day, always thinking they were my one and only gift, but my "big" gift was saved for during dinner.  We went to Hu Hot per my request with Alex's dad and two brothers.  I think he was saving this gift to give to me when there would be witnesses to capture my reaction. :)  I don't remember exactly what the card said but after reading it I knew that his gift had something to do with photography.  As many of you know, it wasn't unusual for me to take over a thousand pictures in one month but the past four or five months I have lost my passion for taking photos. Correction, I haven't lost my passion but rather gotten so frustrated with not being able to take the quality of photos that I'd like that I decided to stop all together.  So my husband, being the intuitive and sensitive man that he is, found a solution to my photographing hiatus.  He scheduled for me a six-hour, private, one-on-one session with a photography instructor at the Rocky Mountain School of Photography!  I can honestly say that I think this was one of the best birthday presents I have ever gotten.

This last Saturday was my big day!  I have to admit that I was so nervous and giddy about this day that I literally felt like a little kid on the first day of school.  I met him at 8:00 and we got started right away.  He got a baseline for what I already knew and we just went from there.  We basically did book stuff for the first four hours and then he set me loose with a few assignments to complete for the next day.  I spent the rest of the afternoon taking photos and let me tell you, it was heaven!  The next day he critiqued my photos and answered the questions I had, and then he taught me a little bit about composition and photo editing.  It was exactly what I needed to give me that boost into wanting to get back into taking pictures.

Being a stay-at-home mom I often feel like I don't have any skills to offer society.  I don't go to a job and contribute to making a business successful, I don't get a paycheck for the hard work I put in, and there never seems to be any recognition for the work that I do do.  Sure, I can be really good at wiping down counters and making lunches, but that just doesn't satisfy.  No one ever comes into our house and says, "Wow!  That's a marvelous pile of laundry that you just folded!"  Photography, however, is something I can be good at (hopefully) and see lasting positive results.  My kids will most likely be annoyed with my constant need to take pictures of them, but someday...someday...they will be grateful for the memories they can see in a photograph.

So, this year's birthday was definitely memorable.  After telling Alex that he gave me one of the best birthday presents that I could remember he replied, "Well, crap!  What am I supposed to do next year?", to which I quickly replied with, "There's always diamonds.".

Love you, A! :)

Denver: Part Three

This will be my final post about our trip and then I promise to move on to something more interesting, or at least more positive and cheery.


I had such high hopes and dreams for this trip.  People tried very hard, with little success mind you, to keep my expectations in check.  Even Alex said a few times that he thought we would go all the way down there and have to come home with nothing fixed.  I became quickly irritated with these people, not understanding why they just couldn't stay positive and dream along with me that this may provide us with the answers we had been hoping for.  Negative people usually bring me down but I was determined to stay positive.  This was going to work, I thought.

As you know, we came back knowing not much more than we did when we left.  Cale endured a week of doctor appointment after doctor appointment, a trip to the ER and an overnight stay in a crib that looked more like a prison cell than a bed, and countless pokes and prods that I'm pretty sure have instilled a fear for doctors so great that not even a computer or cell phone will be able to distract him.  As he became more aware of our surroundings, he quickly learned the driving route to the hospital and immediately started crying and trembling.  Having to drag him through those hospital doors day after day made me feel like the worst mother in the world, wishing I could just whisk him away to some place where he could just be a happy four-year-old little boy.  I often thought of the day when we could go on an airplane that took us somewhere other than another hospital.  Disney World is going to blow his mind!  Having to explain to over a dozen different doctors what is wrong my with my son very quickly became incredibly emotionally taxing.  I want to go some place where people just look at Cale and tell me everything that is right with him.

I had a moment of clarity as we were riding the elevator to go to another appointment.  Riding with us was a dad and his daughter, probably around the same age as Cale.  She was hooked up to an IV and looked very sick...exactly the way Cale had looked just a few days prior when he had been admitted into the hospital.  I suddenly realized that Alex and I are part of a very elite club, where its members know all too well what the others are going through.  We don't stare at little kids in a wheelchair or at children tethered to IV poles.  We don't make small talk in elevators asking how their day is going because we already know the answer.

 I don't want to be a member of this club.  I don't want hospital visits and doctor appointments to feel normal.  I don't want to have to drag my son into a doctor's office while he's crying and telling me that he's scared, all the while faking my way through the phrase, "it's all going to be okay".  I don't want to have to put on a brave front when in my mind I'm also running for the door at mach speed.  Some day Cale is going to be able to see right through me, and then what?

Now that we've been home for over a week and we've made the changes in his medicine, I continue to find myself hopeful that these changes are going to work.  I know in reality that if the medicine was going to help it would have started working by now, but each morning I wake up thinking maybe today is the day!  Cale has almost seemed worse the past couple of days, thrashing and writhing in pain after he eats, and last night he threw up in his bed after we put him down for the night, but I'm still hopeful.  I'm pretty sure that's the definition of insanity.

At the end of the day, Alex and I can rest in knowing that we as parents have done all that we can to help our little Cale.  I suppose this is all just part of the process of elimination, and someday we will reach the end and have our answers.

Denver: Part Two

I originally had planned to go into detail about all of our various doctor appointments and hospital visits, but then it dawned on me that most of you reading this probably don't care one, tiny ounce about the medical stuff.  So instead, I will start off with our airplane ride down to Denver.

I have a deep phobia for flying.  Just stepping foot into an airport gives me severe anxiety.  I will often look up in the sky at an airplane and think to myself, "those poor souls...they have no idea they are about to die".  I'm fairly certain that any airplane I see, or heaven forbid have to fly in, will without a doubt come crashing to the ground at any given second.  I. Hate. Flying!  Moving along, our flight down to Denver was really nothing too out of the ordinary, except for the million or so bumps we encountered along the way.  Turbulence is something I only overreact to when it occurs during takeoff, and fortunately the only bumps during this flight occurred mid-flight and during our landing, so I was able to hold it together rather well.  I still don't like it, but I can tolerate it...mostly.  Cale, on the other hand, thought turbulence was the greatest thing since sliced bread!  Each and every bump would without a doubt cause fits of giggles and squeals of pure delight!  He quickly endured himself to the flight attendants and those sitting around us.  Alex, however, whom has never gotten motion sick, started to turn green.  I've never actually witnessed someone's face turn green due to nausea, but Alex was definitely a different shade of color than I'm used to.  He had to reach for the little bag a few times but thankfully never needed to use it.  Good times.

From here on out Cale will definitely have the mindset of the more bumps, the better.  And when you ask him what Mommy does on the airplane, he covers his face with his hands.  I didn't think I actually went to that extreme but apparently my instincts take over when I'm paralyzed in fear.

And now for the brief summary of what happened while we were down in Denver.  My initial assumption of our stay there was that Cale would be admitted into a hospital and receive 24/7 observation and care.  It turned out to be just many scheduled doctor appointments which left us with a lot of free time, and that turned out to be absolutely marvelous.  Our first appointment of the week started off with a bang.  During our chat with the GI doctor, Cale started doing his thing and threw up right in front of him.  Perfect!  Someone is finally going to see the reason behind us traveling all this way!  Throwing up is very typical for him but this time he threw up blood.  Not typical.  The GI doctor talked with us a little more and decided to admit him into the ER just to make sure nothing really serious was going on.  That ER visit turned into a overnight stay at Denver Children's Hospital.  They monitored him through the night and we continued with our scheduled appointments the following day.  He was due for an upper endoscopy and a colonoscopy which meant he would be under anesthesia for those procedures.  It's never easy to watch your baby be put to sleep.  After about an hour the doctor came out and showed us the pictures he had taken, which all appeared to be perfectly normal, and then told us we would have to wait through the weekend to receive the results from the biopsies.  Also, they could see no cause for the blood in his vomit.  At this point our hearts are heavy because we hate to hear the word normal.  Cale has got to be the most abnormal normal person I have ever met.  The rest of the week was filled with appointments with an allergist, therapist, and geneticist.  The allergist agreed with us that whatever was going on with Cale was not due to an allergy and so he cancelled the two skin prick tests that were scheduled.  The therapist mainly talked with Alex and me, making sure that we had the resources back home to successfully deal with the emotions that go along with having a child with special needs.  The geneticist appointment resulted in doing more genetic testing and confirming that the two MRI's Cale has had were in fact normal.  No surprise, the radiologists agreed his MRI's were normal.  The genetic tests that were run will take about two months to receive the results.  So...we wait.

So you might be wondering what on earth did we travel all the way to Denver, CO for to learn nothing.  I have very mixed emotions about how our time down there was spent, and I will go into more detail about that in my next and final post, but there are a few things we did learn that were helpful.

1. The pH level in his stomach is very low, meaning he is very acidic.  This shouldn't be the case because he's been on medicine since he was six months old to lower his acidity.  So, the doctor increased the dose of his acid reflux medicine and added a new one to hopefully help with the pain of having acid reflux.
2. The biopsies that they took during his scopes showed that he does not have the diagnosis of eosinophilic esophagitis, which the GI doctor we saw in Seattle had initially given him.  
3. Whatever is causing Cale so much pain and causing him to vomit is not due to an allergy!  A last minute skin prick test, however, showed that Cale is allergic to egg which means that when he does start to eat things again we probably shouldn't start out with scrambled eggs.

So there you have it.  The only changes we made coming home was an increased dose in his medicine and a new medicine to help with acid reflux.

More to come!...

Denver: Part One

The days ticked by S L O W L Y as we anxiously awaited our visit to Denver Children's Hospital / National Jewish Health Center.  It was torture to watch Cale in so much pain and not be able to do anything but wait. 

We were at our wits end in November, in tears almost daily, and the soonest they could schedule Cale wasn't until March.  I think the last four months have been some of the hardest ones we've come up against, even trumping the days after Cale was diagnosed with significant developmental delays, which I account to some of the darkest days of my entire life.  Watching the joy and innocence sucked from our little boy's life was unbearable.  March could not, and did not, come soon enough.  The phrase I caught myself repeating over and over was, "someone IS going to help us or all hell is going to break loose!".   I was determined not to leave that hospital until someone fixed him.  Mama Bear was about to get angry.

As March 9th approached I found myself excited and almost giddy.  My spirits were high and I was beginning to see little glimpses of hope. This is going to work!  


We left on a Wednesday and the previous Sunday the elders at our church offered to pray over Cale and our trip.  We met in our pastor's office before the start of the service and as I entered the room I realized I didn't recognize half of the eight or nine men that were sitting in a circle waiting for us.  We gave a brief summary of Cale's history and the challenges we have come up against, while also explaining the purpose of our trip to Denver and our hopes that went along with it.  Most of the elders had a bible verse or words of encouragement prepared in advance to share with us, and as Alex and I both wept unashamedly, we saw that many of the grown men sitting around us were weeping also.  These were men I had never met and who had never before met Cale, but their genuine care and empathy for our family was so evident that I will forever remember this encounter.  When it came time to pray over Cale our pastor anointed him with oil, and one by one each elder began to pray for Cale's healing.  I've prayed this prayer many, many, many times before and have not gotten an answer, but these individuals were so confident in their approach before the Lord that I left that office almost anticipating Cale running away from me and joyfully yelling, "Come catch me, Mom!", followed by "Can you take me to McDonald's to get a Happy Meal?".  That obviously didn't happen but I know that the Lord heard their prayers and that He was pleased in our coming before Him.  It always amazes me to be reminded of just how many people love and care for our family.  It truly warms my heart. 

On Tuesday, the day before we left, Alex came home and told me that he got a call from someone at our church.  They had decided to give us a check for $1,500 to help pay for the expense of our trip.  Alex told them that our plane tickets only cost $1,100 and that they were going well beyond anything we could have ever expected or hoped for, but they insisted on giving us the full amount to also help pay for food and hotel costs.  Again, we are so loved and so blessed to have such a generous and caring church family!

Wednesday morning finally came and I was so excited to finally be able to say that we were leaving!  I was even so excited that I didn't cry once during our flight, which for those of you who know me well recognize this as monumental!  We were finally on our way to getting the answers we needed and the help we longed for.

Part Two still to come...

The Mile High

Alex, Cale and I are finally home after our week-long stay in Denver!  We spent an entire week going from doctor appointment to doctor appointment, hoping to finally receive some help for whatever seems to be causing Cale so much discomfort, pain, and weight loss.  There is so much to write about and so I think the best way for me to update all of you is to do it in three parts.  So, keep checking back!

Before I go on about Cale, however, I just want to thank everyone who prayed for us and sent encouraging messages.  It was an emotional week and having the support from so many of our friends and family kept us strong, and sane. :)

More to come!