I have yet to see more than two days in a row of good weather here in Missoula. We keep getting teased with little glimpses of Spring but I'm fairly certain Summer will be here before Spring truly arrives. This had better not be any indication of how Missoula's summer is going to go. I want three solid months of temps in the 80's and 90's...and if I'm still huge and pregnant when the hot weather rolls in, so be it!
This Memorial Day weekend was rainy. And cold. BUT, we were able to have a fantastic few days together as a family despite the icky weather. We painted the baby's room and kept the kids busy with various activities such as the carousel, a baseball game, lots of umbrella time, movies, and driving Cale's and Riley's motorized Jeep around up at Grandma and Grandpa's house. The kids were very sad to watch Dad leave for work this morning and we are slowly trying to adjust to our normal weekly routine. Wish me luck on that one. So far I have battled a tantrum or sibling rivalry every half hour.
In other news, I am slowly but surely getting back into taking pictures. In the month of May I took over 1,300 photos, however I'm sure I only kept about 100 of those. I'm proud to say that not one of those photos was shot in automatic mode. I am loving playing around in manual mode and the more I do it the more comfortable I am getting. Alex bought me a new photo editing software for Mother's Day and even though it will probably take years of practice before I ever figure it out, I am having a blast playing around with pictures and making them unique. I have a feeling this is going to be a very time-consuming hobby. :) My dream is to get good enough with photography that I can make a name for myself by becoming a photographer for Community Medical Center and specializing in taking pictures for families who either know they are going to lose their baby at birth, or being called in at all hours to photograph a baby who died unexpectedly during birth. I'm also becoming more and more interested in possibly photographing hospice patients. We'll see where my dream takes me. All I know is I love photography and the challenge of getting that perfect shot keeps me coming back for more. I suppose it's a lot like the game of golf in that way. It doesn't matter if the first seventeen and a half holes were complete and total disasters if you have that perfect last shot on the eighteenth hole...chances are you'll be back at it again the next day to find just one more.
In pregnancy news, I had a routine doctor's appointment this morning and apparently my body is already preparing itself for labor. I'm starting to efface and my doctor wants to start seeing me every week from here on out. To even begin to think about finally meeting this baby has me completely high strung for a couple of reasons. The first one being that I am only 34 weeks pregnant and it's still far too early for this baby to make his grande debut. Second, we have yet to agree on a name and there is no way I am delivering this baby without a name picked out for him!
I cannot believe I will soon be a mother of three.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
laugh lines
I have newly formed wrinkles upon returning from my weekend retreat, and yet I could not care less about them or the fact that at eight months pregnant I was forced to sleep on a half-inch thick mattress on top of a piece of plywood. Yes, the weekend retreat was just that - a retreat!
I had the extreme pleasure of spending two nights away from my daily life and responsibilities and surrounding myself around sixty wonderful ladies. We spent the weekend laughing, eating, experiencing God, laughing, doing girly things, eating, and laughing. I don't think I have laughed so hard since I found my son covered from head to toe in poop. Oh wait, I didn't laugh then. I cried...and then yelled. So truly I don't remember the last time I was able to laugh that hard. It was a perfect weekend to cap off this pregnancy before life takes another wild turn.
In between meals, getting a sunburn with some pretty awesome sunglass lines, taking pictures, learning how to make fantastic tablescapes, and devouring an entire chocolate buffet, we also got to hear from an incredible speaker speak on the book of Esther. I had no prior knowledge of anything to do with Esther and this short book in the Bible turns out to be rather sweet! I also got to talk with some of my best girl friends, all of whom have kids, without the interruption of kids needing to go potty or throwing a fit because someone took the toy they were playing with. We were able to be completely selfish in our time and it was fabulous! I stayed up until nearly one o'clock each night, which is highly uncharacteristic of me, but it was so worth it. I think the whole purpose of the retreat was to feel rested and recharged when we came home, but since I only averaged about six hours of pregnancy sleep I definitely didn't come home rested but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I am so thankful for my friends who relentlessly encouraged me to go. As you might remember, I initially said no way to the thought of being three hours away from medical care, but as more time passed I started to feel a peace about going. A lot of my friends don't mind that I'm a hypochondriac and they even offered to listen to me if I needed to vent my worries to someone. Many times throughout the weekend I would have someone come up to me and ask me how my stress level was doing, which further proves the fact that I have awesome friends. :) AND, I came back still pregnant so all of my worries were for not.
I must say, though, sleeping in my own bed on top of my own mattress is priceless.
I had the extreme pleasure of spending two nights away from my daily life and responsibilities and surrounding myself around sixty wonderful ladies. We spent the weekend laughing, eating, experiencing God, laughing, doing girly things, eating, and laughing. I don't think I have laughed so hard since I found my son covered from head to toe in poop. Oh wait, I didn't laugh then. I cried...and then yelled. So truly I don't remember the last time I was able to laugh that hard. It was a perfect weekend to cap off this pregnancy before life takes another wild turn.
In between meals, getting a sunburn with some pretty awesome sunglass lines, taking pictures, learning how to make fantastic tablescapes, and devouring an entire chocolate buffet, we also got to hear from an incredible speaker speak on the book of Esther. I had no prior knowledge of anything to do with Esther and this short book in the Bible turns out to be rather sweet! I also got to talk with some of my best girl friends, all of whom have kids, without the interruption of kids needing to go potty or throwing a fit because someone took the toy they were playing with. We were able to be completely selfish in our time and it was fabulous! I stayed up until nearly one o'clock each night, which is highly uncharacteristic of me, but it was so worth it. I think the whole purpose of the retreat was to feel rested and recharged when we came home, but since I only averaged about six hours of pregnancy sleep I definitely didn't come home rested but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
I am so thankful for my friends who relentlessly encouraged me to go. As you might remember, I initially said no way to the thought of being three hours away from medical care, but as more time passed I started to feel a peace about going. A lot of my friends don't mind that I'm a hypochondriac and they even offered to listen to me if I needed to vent my worries to someone. Many times throughout the weekend I would have someone come up to me and ask me how my stress level was doing, which further proves the fact that I have awesome friends. :) AND, I came back still pregnant so all of my worries were for not.
I must say, though, sleeping in my own bed on top of my own mattress is priceless.
Friday, May 20, 2011
happenings
I apologize for letting nearly a month go by without posting. Truth is, I haven't really had anything to say. We've been chugging along, impatiently waiting for the day when Spring finally decides to arrive in Missoula. I am SO ready for warm weather and sunshine!
I am 32 weeks pregnant now and getting more and more excited to meet this little guy. Alex and I have yet to settle on a name and I have a feeling we won't have a final answer until he is born. We are both set on a name but neither one of us seems willing to budge, yet I have a feeling I will be victorious in the end. :) This little guy never seems to stop moving and his jabs and pokes are becoming more and more uncomfortable as he gets bigger. Every now and then I can feel a perfectly formed foot trying to explode from my stomach and even though this is the third time feeling a baby move inside of me, it never gets any less amazing. The only part of pregnancy I will miss is feeling the baby move. Thank goodness, if all goes according to planned, this is the last time my body will be subject to such torture. I used to be a firm believer that pregnancy was a beautiful, joyful, and amazing one-of-a-kind experience, but this baby has proven to me that not all pregnancies should be treated equally. I am extremely grateful to be carrying this child but it certainly has not been easy or enjoyable.
In other news, I am headed out of town in a few hours to spend the weekend at a women's retreat through our church. Its theme for the weekend is called "Pampered for a Purpose" and can I just tell you that that could not sound more heavenly right now. I will be surrounded by a wonderful group of ladies, including a group of my closest girl friends, and the rumor has it that there will be delicious food and lattes every morning. Hello!? Could you appeal to a pregnant woman more if you tried? I think not. It took a lot of convincing from both my husband and my friends to get me to go because I'm the type of person that does not want to be more than ten minutes away from immediate medical care while I'm pregnant, and the place we are headed to is over three hours away from Missoula. I initially said no way but I'm trusting that this weekend will give me some much needed relaxation and that God will keep this baby happy and healthy inside my belly for another month and a half.
Alright, I suppose that is enough tidbits for now. I will update soon with events from the retreat. Have a great weekend everyone!!!
Friday, April 15, 2011
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!
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!
Friday, April 8, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
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! :)
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! :)
Friday, March 25, 2011
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)