MommyBlog

I was going to write a quick post, but Kenny decided to climb into my lap as I was logging in.   So this is all I can say…

… is something that I never hear.   Kenny really does talk nonstop.   All day.   It’s charming, adorable, amazing, exasperating and sometimes exhausting.   Here is a transcript of our six minute ride to his gymnastics class today:

“Nastics!   Ball!   Gym-to-play!   Copter?   Copter!   Roof!   Hat.   WINDY!   Bye-bye, copter!   Ment!   Mama, ‘ment!   Gamma ‘ment trick buk!   Dada’s song?   Pa-leese?   Dudley ba-seat.   Duuuuudleeeeeey?   Dudley ‘ome.   Dudley ‘ome, Mama.   Nack?   Pretzels?   Pa-LEEEEESE?   Juice!   Bus.   Ride Bus.   Gym-as-ick!   Nasticks!   Play  ball.   Bat and ball.   Bat and ball BEACH!   O’in!   Beach!   Dada o’in.   Dada ‘ome?”

He changes subjects so rapidly, I can hardly keep up.   “Ment” means “cement truck” and he says it whenever he sees a piece of construction equipment that may or may not be found in a Tonka truck book that his Grandma gave him.   Although today, we really did see two cement trucks.   And the whole part about the ‘copter?   We saw a medical helicopter take off from the hospital roof three weeks ago, and since we were standing right there, the wind blew his hat off, and nearly knocked us both to the ground.   He still mentions it twice a day.  

The sweetest part of it all for me, though, is the fact that he likes to talk about things.   He doesn’t just tell me what he wants and needs, but he generates conversation about things he’s thinking about.   Like when he randomly starts talking about the helicopter blowing off his hat that day three weeks ago.   Or when he talks about going to the beach over this past weekend.   We were only there for an hour or so, and it was chilly and raining, but being there reminded him of our vacation at the beach in January, and how much he loved being at the beach all day every day.   It’s amazing what goes on inside that little head.  

So now that I think about it, peace and quiet is overrated…

 

For the week leading up to Dave and Sonila’s wedding, I worked on getting Kenny to say, “Congratulations, Uncle Dave!” and he got pretty good at it.   So good now, in fact (even if it is after the fact) that he spent the whole drive to MOPS this morning shouting it at the top of his lungs.   What a joyful kid.  

So without further ado, let me share a few more shots from the Wedding of the Year…

      …just before the limo departed for the church…

    …arriving at the reception…

        … the first dance for husband and wife!   Sonila knows how to cut a rug…

    …         …

    … the groom’s party leaps for joy that Dave finally took the plunge…

      …and Kenny asks,

  …       …“Has anyone seen the waiter who was giving away pizza???   Anyone?”

PS ~ click on the pictures!

We just arrived home, after a beautiful weekend of laughter, love, hugs, tears and lots of dancing.   I wasn’t able to get online at all in Florida, and as it’s late, I’ll have to save the writing of my stories until tomorrow.   But here are some quick pictures…

The gorgeous bride and groom:   Mr. & Mrs. Dave and Sonila Cook!

 

   

And the two most handsome bachelors at the wedding:   Kenny and his cousin Ryan:

 

(Click on these shots for a better view!)

… it seems they never stop.

Casey and Kenny came with me to the hospital for the D&C on Monday, and hung out in the pre-surgery area.   That is, until Kenny started projectile vomiting all over himself, Casey, the floor and the gurney I was laying on.   Casey got  everything wiped up and they took off.   Just before they left, I found out that my own  doctor was delayed in delivery, and they weren’t sure  when she was coming in.

So I waited.   For an hour.   The IV in my arm dripped on, as one by one the other people there for out-patient  surgery were wheeled away by their doctors and nurses, and I was left quite alone in the pre-op room with only a single technician to keep me company.   Once my sweet doc arrived, along with her crew, I was sent into blissful sleep, and was shaken awake only a minute later, as they told me they were finished.   Casey took me home, where I tried to watch the TV show “24” with him,  but in the midst of my drugged state, I got confused and started thinking that American Idol was getting a little violent this year.

Tuesday brought the worse hang-over of my life, and a cranky-hungry Kenny.   Casey was starting to  feel under the weather, too, not unexpectedly, given all he’s been through.   By last night, Kenny did one last glorious vomit (three hours after we’d put him to bed), causing us to have to change his clothes, his sheets and clean the carpet.   Then we ended up sleeping in there on the bed in his room, in case he started choking or something in his sleep.   Of course, no slumber party is complete without Dudley, and he made himself comfortable in there, licking himself to sleep.

Kenny was better this morning, albeit the crankiest he’s ever been in his sweet life, only I woke up with severe upper abdominal pain.   I called the doctor, and she sent me right over to a lab for an abdominal ultrasound.   Let me tell you how much fun a thirty minute ultrasound is with a 24 pound toddler in your lap.   I had to pin him in my legs on the examination table, and keep his hands out of the gooey jelly they spread on my belly, and keep him from swan diving off the table, while I was told to lay still.   He was pretty good,  all in all.   I am not, unfortunately, and it looks like I have now been reported to have gallstones, and am scheduled for a consult with a surgeon for next Friday, to determine whether or not I need surgery.   Again.

All of this, and we are leaving for the airport at 6 am tomorrow to go to Casey’s brother’s wedding in Florida.   I hope our housesitter can overlook the fact that the house hasn’t been cleaned in two weeks…  

I don’t know how much computer access I’ll have over the next four days, but hopefully I’ll have many happy and funny stories to tell, and many pictures to post.   Things have got to get cheerier from here on end.   At least I can drink wine again. But seriously,  I don’t like writing sad and dreary  posts, and I want to return to my giggly recounts of Kenny’s antics as soon as I can.  

You know, I always wondered when or if my “perfect life” would hit a bump in the road.   I always looked at friends who had been through tragedy, and wondered how they survived it all, and how they were still able to smile.   I always thought I could never handle losing a pregnancy, or withstand a serious illness, and yet.   Here I am.   And I am still able to smile.

I am leaving in ten minutes to go to the hospital for a D&C.   It seems I will need one after all, as I went to the doctor this morning for bad cramping and a mild fever, and she found additional tissue that still has not worked its way out on its own.  

Kenny, bless his heart, is sick with a virus (I can hear him throwing up as I write this), and Casey is compelled to nurse us both.   Fortunately, Kenny’s doctor’s appointment showed that he merely had what every other kid from Scottsdale to Sarasota apparently has these days, and should improve soon.   I want to wrap my arms around him and make him giggle and feed him chicken soup and jello, and instead, he is getting dragged to the hospital with Casey and me.   That’s one hard thing about being “new in town” for these few months… we don’t really know anyone who we can call at this short notice to take care of a sick Kenny for the day.

Thank you all so much for your emails and comments… they encourage me, cheer me and lift me up.   I am so blessed to be so wrapped in prayer from people I have never met!   I pray that this will make me a better friend and encouragement to others, to somehow repay the love that I have been shown through all of you.

Thank you for the emails and comments you have sent.   They mean so much to me.   It is amazing to see the love and sympathy of so many strangers.

Physically I am doing ok.   Emotionally I am not so good.   This isn’t the sort of thing you ever expect to happen, and even if you  have known  friends  who have lost a baby, the true impact is impossible to imagine unless it happens to you.   I have had several friends and acquaintences who have miscarried, but before now, however awful it may have seemed, it was nothing compared to the empty pain I am now feeling.   My belly is swollen from the contractions Thursday night  and the saline IV, my hormones are still confused about what’s going on, and my heart is broken.

If there has to be something good to come out of all of this, it is the fact that Casey and I have been brought closer than ever.   We have spent many hours talking about how we feel, crying in each others’ arms, praying, asking questions  and, alternately, staring off into space and trying to forget it all.   He has been my rock in these last few hellish days.   He is an amazing man, full of a love and compassion that I hadn’t ever seen the depths of until now.   To see his hurt and pain makes it real to me that this precious child was already an emotional part of our family.

My emotions are all over the spectrum right now.   Some are healthy and some are not.   I am angry, I am sad and bewildered.   I am scared, confused and numb.   I don’t want to talk to anyone I know about it, except Casey.   I am dreading our trip to Casey’s  brother’s wedding, simply because I don’t know if I can stand any extra-long, sympathetic hugs from our family.   I want to eat and drink so much that I can’t feel anything.  And I want to never eat again because maybe then I can shrink and disappear.   I know that there are so many things that are so much worse that could happen to a family, and yet if someone else says that to me, I  might strangle them.   I want to go out dancing and be beautiful and pretend I was never pregnant.   I want to crawl into the shower and let the hot water beat over my head for an hour until it washes away the pain.   More than anything, though, I want everything to be fine again, and be pregnant again with the little child that was going to be born in October.

Kenny, thank God, doesn’t understand anything of what happened.   He is, in fact, sick today with a little viral infection that he undoubtably picked up in the eight hours he spent in the ER on Thursday night.   He is happy as ever though, even throwing up and exhausted.   He is an angel.   A gift.   The child we weren’t sure that we could ever even have.   And I am comforted by that.   And I am comforted to know that nothing I can ever go through on this earth can come close to separating me from the love of the Father.   No pain I have felt is foreign to Christ, who bore  the pain of all generations so that we might belong to his Kingdom in Heaven.   God knows exactly how I feel, good and bad, and He knew that all of this would happen, even before any of it did.   His story is bigger than mine, and His Word is always true.   Even as I mentally beat my head against a wall, I know that He is there, holding me in His arms.   And He is holding my child in His arms, too.

Hello Everyone:

I am so saddened to write this update.    I had to bring Kristjana to the ER early this evening.   We lost the baby.  

I would appreciate your prayers for Kristjana.   She had a very rough evening, and the doctors have admitted her for at least one evening because of pain.   Kenny and I just got home.   The little guy is resting comfortably now in  his crib.  We’ll be back over to the hospital in the morning.

Kristjana struggled on whether to announce she was pregnant before the 12 week mark.   She struggled more whether to share and write about the pain and symptons she was experiencing the past 7 days.   Even with our little one ending up in heaven way too soon, I am glad she did write.   Your emails and comments were good therapy to Kristjana and, so it seems, to many other people as well.  

I believe in sharing good news, even if the news is as delicate as a pregnancy.   That way friends and family, and  blogger friends can be praying along with us.   We will be grieving the loss of this precious life, and praying for another opportunity to share with you that another life is on it’s way.   It is difficult, but especially during a night like this I hang on to my favorite verses, Rejoice in the Lord always.   I say it again, rejoice.   Let your gentleness be evident to all.   The Lord is near.   Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus…. Amen.

Rejoicing in the Lord, albeit with a heavy heart…….

Casey

There is something that I’ve been aching to write about for weeks now, but something has been holding me back.   Protocol?   Tradition?   Appropriateness?   Superstition?   Well, I need to throw all that out the window, if only for the sake of my sanity; because I need to write about this.

So here’s the really AWESOME, FABULOUS news…

I’m pregnant!!!!!

And here’s the other side of the story.   I’ve been in a state of what the doctors call a “threatened miscarriage” for the last six days.   So please stop reading if you don’t want the details.   This isn’t going to be the normal humorous, heartwarming post I usually strive to write.

I started bleeding on Friday night.   It was not much, but bright red and some mild cramping soon followed.   The OB I was able to contact after-hours said, “It sounds like you’re having a miscarriage.   You can go to the ER if you want, but they can’t really do anything for you.   I’d stay home and rest.”   So Saturday dawned with much less blood, and as the day went on, I was more and more optimistic.   Until Kenny’s dinner time when the pain came on so bad, I called the doctor again, who this time was a little more in favor of going to the emergency room.   So Casey and I put Kenny to bed, and with my parents (who were visiting) there to stay with Kenny, we drove the four miles to our brand new Scottsdale hospital.

In the seven hours we were there, I had six viles of blood drawn, an IV inserted, a pelvic exam, a half hour of ultrasounds (which included a cathater to inflate my bladder so that they had a “better view”   Yeah, that was fun) where they saw that not only was the baby there with a strong heartbeat, but that everything else looked normal too!, another consult with the doctor on call, and then an hour and a half wait for the Rhogam shot to arrive (since I am Rh negative) and to be administered by the right person in the right cheek of my arse.   So we arrived home after midnight, exhausted and hopeful.

Sunday was uneventful: the bleeding continued, but at a slightly slower rate.   It got worse again in the evening, but wasn’t as bad as it had been Saturday night.   Monday morning, Casey and I drove to the OB’s office just as they opened, to deliver my file from the ER, and to schedule an appointment.   Angels that they are there, the nurse saw me right away, and did another ultrasound, again confirming that the baby was fine, and that everything else looked fine as well.   I was instructed to rest as much as possible off my feet (yeah, Kenny got a kick out of that Doctor’s order…), and was given a prescription for Progesterone – one of those things that doesn’t hurt, but won’t necessarily help.

By the time I got home and took the hormones, then  said goodbye to my folks,  then laid down, I was bleeding more heavily and barely able to keep my eyes open (a result of the progeterone).   Casey stayed home most of the day, taking care of Kenny and Dudley.   He put Kenny down for a nap just before he had to leave for a lunch meeting, and I dozed on the couch.   He picked up groceries on the way home, and again took care of Kenny and Dudley so I could rest for the remainder of the evening.   Yesterday was the worst day yet, though.  

Casey again worked from home most of the day (which didn’t include much working for him; he had his hands full with our household).   By Kenny’s dinner time, I was doubled over in bed, counting the cramps, which by then were more like contractions, and assuming the worst was already occuring.   Casey brought me dinner in bed ~  a masterpiece three-courser, with salad, homemade speghetti and then chocolate creme pie for dessert ~ and we watch mindless TV and talked in between tears and prayers.   When I fell asleep, I sort of made up in my mind that the miscarriage was underway, and made myself be at peace with that.

This morning I felt 100% better.   The bleeding was still heavy, this time with  much  more clotting, but the cramps were gone.    Casey (and Kenny!) and I went to the doctor at 3:30 for another exam and ultrasound.    Kenny  flirted shamelessly with all the nurses and receptionists, and Casey and I were  a nervous calm.   The doctor didn’t waste time with questions.   “Let’s take a look, and then we’ll talk, ok?” and there it was… .our little fighter was still there!   The heart was  pounding,  the  placenta looked healthy and there was no evidence of any polyps or tumors.   We talked about what could  be causing the bleeding, and what that could mean for us now.  

Our doctor was extremely hopeful, without being irrational.   She said  that though it’s rare,  she has seen women bleed like this, and still carry a healthy baby to term.   The trick is to stop the bleeding.    Once I had four or five days with no blood, I could resume “normal” activities… exercise, running around with Kenny, housekeeping,  etc.   But  until then, I’m supposed to stay off my feet as much as possible.   And I’m not allowed to fly… a heartbreak because Casey’s brother Dave is getting married next weekend in Florida, and I don’t think there has ever been a wedding (ok, besides mine and  Casey’s!) that was  more joyfully anticipated.  

But I’m still pregnant!!!   I have no idea when I’m due.   I never had a normal cycle, so though the calendar says October 8, the sonogram measurement says October 22.   We shall see.   For now, all I can do is take one day at a time.

So I need to be able to write about  this.   I promise not to go into the clinical details anymore.   But I need to be able to talk about how this is making me  feel, how it’s affecting my family.   How can I spend day after day not taking Dudley on his jaunty walks?   Not racing around with Kenny in the park?   Not picking him  up and holding him all day when he wants.   Not cooking up fancy dinners  for Casey and I, or rollerblading, or vacuuming, or folding laundry?   I know that I need to rest for the baby.   But I’m saddened by the toll this will take on Casey and Kenny.   My  doctor  says that once the  bleeding stops,  I’ll  no longer be high-risk, so  I have to remember that.   And Casey has proven himself to be a Man among men; he has fixed meals, cleaned the kitchen, taken care of Kenny and put his own work aside during the day as much as he can to take care of me.     God made the perfect man for me in Casey, there is no doubt.   I’m forever grateful.

Even now, though, I know that there’s no guarentee that the baby will survive the first trimester.   And even now, I’m cramping again for sitting up so long.   So I’m going to lay down, and keep praying for  the best.    I’ll update again as much as I can.

Is there anyone else out there reading this who has gone through this?   It helps to know that this can happen, and that there can still be a healthy little baby at the end of the road.  

Kenny is a very good eater.   In fact, he will eat most everything you put in front of him, with very few exceptions.   But, like any toddler, he is going through the “single food phase” week by week.   This week (and last week) it happens to be a request for cereal  at every meal: Honey Bunches of Oats, which he calls, “Dada Cereal” (because that’s what Casey often has for breakfast) and Frosted Mini Wheats, which he calls, “Papa Cereal” (because that’s what Casey’s Dad often has for breakfast).

We’ve been out of Dada cereal for several days now, so when Casey came home with some after a grocery run, Kenny was nearly quivering with excitement, and of course, that’s all he wanted for dinner.   That is, until he saw the edamame that Casey and I were eating.   Then it was “BEANS!” which he wanted to eat in between each bite of cereal.   (blech!)   Then he saw Casey eating rice and demanded a chopstick-ful of that to go with each bite of the  edamame and cereal.   And he washed it all down with “appa-orange-juice-with-ice.”

At least he said, “please!”