Good Days and Bad Days

January. Need I say more? It's just not my favorite month. Holidays and birthdays have come to an end. It's cold. We have terrible air quality due to inversion. Money is always tight. I'm pale and usually carrying an extra few pounds.

I have been thinking a lot about last year. I had 2 pregnancy losses. Both pregnancy losses had their complications and seemed to drag out for weeks and months. A year ago I was pregnant and getting ready for Liam's heart surgery. It's hard to believe that it's been that long. And yet it feels like ages ago because so many days last year seemed to never end.

And then somehow I emerged from my dark place. Happiness slowly crept in. A genuine laugh here and there. Moments when I couldn't stop smiling. The dawning realization that I went through 3 of the hardest trials in my life and was still able to function and be happy. Overwhelming gratitude to the friends who literally pulled me out of bed or sometimes sat with me and cried, saying nothing at all. Friends who showed up and made sure I ate, that we ate. I am so blessed to have friends that are really more than that. They are like sisters.

So after days, then weeks, of going along just fine, I thought those days were far behind me. I was surprised that as I sat at the kitchen table with my 2 youngest children this morning watching the snow fall, hot chocolate in hand, that I was overcome with sadness. I think I have changed quite a bit since last year. I wouldn't say I'm a broken woman, but I feel older, heavier, more tired, with a twinge of sadness that forever lingers.

I still don't understand why things happen the way they do. I think what frustrates me the most about today is the self doubt that came crashing down upon me. I honestly feel like such a failure. I second guess myself all the time. I am my own worst critic. While I know that I am doing the best I can, I just don't feel like I ever measure up. Where I lack answers I try to find something I did wrong. Such a terrible thing. If I heard someone talk to another person the way I talk to myself, I would probably intervene.

Maybe today is just a bad day. I realize that you never get over losses. I think you absorb them and carry them with you forever. Sometimes it's like a background noise and other times they are right in front of your face and you can see nothing else.

Sunnier Days Ahead

Finally we had good news this week.

I had a second uterine surgery, a hysteroscopy, last week. There was retained placenta still in my uterus which was hiding behind a large polyp. After seeing the pictures from my procedure, I can see how this was missed during the D&C. How there was placenta in the top right corner of my uterus, where the lining is thin, is a mystery. Given the location of the retained placenta, it was not possible for my OB to remove it all. She left the necrotic tissue behind and only removed what was still receiving blood flow. If she would have been more aggressive, she would likely have perforated my uterus. I did not cry immediately after my D&C, but I did cry when I woke up in PACU after this procedure. I had mixed emotions. This second surgery meant that everything about this pregnancy was really and truly over. I also felt relief. I had been living a nightmare for the 8 weeks following the loss of my baby. I had weekly OB appointments and lab work. I ended up in the hospital over Mother's Day weekend with a uterine infection. I had many tests done to figure what exactly was going on with my uterus. It was impossible for me to move on. I was still living in the middle of all of the aftermath. 

My OB called me this week with all of the surgery results, First of all, my biopsy came back clean, The large polyp was benign. This was such a relief knowing my family history of uterine and ovarian cancer. My uterus was also not scarred like we thought it would be after having 3 D&C procedures. I don't have Asherman's Syndrome. Everything looked pretty good overall. I don't need a hysterectomy at this point like my OB worried I might. I still have the gift of future possibility in regards to fertility. Whether or not I use it doesn't matter to me today, it's just that I have the choice.

Liam had his post-op appointment from his heart surgery yesterday. They repeated the EKG. His PR interval has gotten faster, it's 96, anything below 100 is too fast. After his surgery his PR interval was 108. This could be just a normal variance. His very first EKG, his interval was 64, dangerously fast. His delta wave looked normal yesterday. So when you look at a normal delta wave, the slightly faster PR interval is not concerning in and of itself. His exam was normal, and his heart sounded great. There was no sound like his previous fixed split S2. Since his heart sounded normal we did not have to repeat the Echocardiogram. We are considering the fluid around his heart a preexisting normal amount of fluid. That said, Liam can stop taking his medication and does not need to see the Cardiologist until next year, unless something changes. What a miracle. Liam made it through the first 2 months post-op, which are the most critical, without his heart opening any new accessory pathways. We can officially say that surgery was a success. Great health news for the second time this week.

Did you hear that loud thump?? That was me closing, or rather slamming the book shut, on this chapter of my life. If there is one thing I have learned from the most stressful time of my life it's this: I can do hard things. It's funny how once I got through these turbulent trials, my first thought was, "That wasn't so bad". I hope that when I look back on this time of my life that I don't look back with just hindsight. I hope that I look back with a little bit of kindsight. I did the best that I could.

It's time to move on from all of this. Sunnier days lie ahead once again. I already feel sunshine in my soul for the first time in a long time.

Honest Not Noble

I have dusted off and started reading again a dear old friend, a book, called, "Gone Too Soon". I also attended BYU Women's Conference recently. I chose to attend some classes that dealt with topics such as grief, mourning, and trials. There is one thought that keeps ringing out from the book I am reading. The thought in the book was that we should write down our feelings as we work through the grief we experience when we lose a child. We should journal those thoughts openly and honestly, but not be noble. I thought that was key to be honest, but not noble. Of course there are lessons to be learned, miracles to be found, and the silver lining to be seen. While those things are true, if you can't be honest with yourself, then how can you ever really move on?

It's a rainy day today. I love rain, thunder, and lightning. Today that dark sky matched my mood. The rain matched my tears. I felt as if Heaven was weeping with me. I didn't want to get out of bed. I wanted to stay snuggled beneath my comforter. I got up and went through the motions. I made breakfast, fixed hair, signed school papers and got my children off to school. I faked my smile. I faked that happy mommy tone. I assured my kids that today was going to be a great day, even though I didn't believe it would be.

I feel like I have had some better days. I have had days that I haven't cried. I will count that as a win. I have had days that I have laughed so hard I snorted. I have had days where some amount of time passes and I feel like my old self.

However.... certain things make me feel like I have been punched in the stomach and have had the wind knocked right out of me. When people make stupid and insensitive comments... that's the worst. These are some of my "favorites" and I promise they have all actually been said to me:

1. You know you already have 5 kids right? 
2. Do you feel guilty? You didn't seem excited about your pregnancy because I never saw you post about it on Facebook.
3. There was probably something really wrong with your baby. You guys already have a lot of medical issues. Just think of all the appointments to Primary Children's Hospital you have saved yourself.
4. You seem sad. Should you be on some type of medication to fix that?
5. At least you have more kids waiting for you in the next life, I don't.

When a friend told me that she is trying to get pregnant I felt as if I had been totally deflated, like when air from a balloon departs in one big gush. It's not that I'm not excited for her, I am. But I think to myself that was me and it didn't work out. I am jealous that this other person is not jaded because nothing has ever gone wrong with trying to conceive, ability to maintain a pregnancy, and her kids are all perfectly healthy. I crave that innocence. I wish I was none the wiser and believed that what I want will happen when I want it to happen.

When I see several neighborhood ladies walking around with thir cute little bellies, I think that should be me. I would have been halfway through my pregnancy now. Halfway to holding my precious baby. As these pregnant women complain about being sick, tired, uncomfortable, or that this is a trial for them because it was a "surprise" pregnancy, I get irritated. I think, do you even know how lucky you are? Do you know there are thousands of women praying for your "trial"? I think that if your biggest challenge to date is a surprise pregnancy at 40, then may everyone in the world be so fortunate.

I still have hCG almost 6 weeks after my D&C. Without getting into all of the details, the bottom line is that my body still thinks it is pregnant. I have been pregnant all year whether with child or hormonally speaking, all year with nothing to show for it. Nothing. My belly had started to round and pop out. Well I guess it still looks that way because someone told me last week that I have a "pregnant belly". Yes, I do and thanks for pointing that out, as if I wasn't already painfully aware of that. Bills have come in for doctor visits, ultrasounds, lab work, and ultimately a surgery that delivered my baby. I am paying for a baby that I never even held. It makes my heart ache.

My arms ache to hold a baby. The other night I woke up in a cold sweat when I swear I heard a baby crying, only to find that obviously there was no baby. We went out to dinner as a family last night. We sat down at a table with 7 chairs and I was telling my husband that we needed 1 more chair so we could all fit around the table. He looked so confused, but I was adamant. And then to my horror I realized I was counting for a family of 8 because I still feel like we have 6 kids. In the deepest level of my subconscious I am still looking for that missing child. As we strolled through a Tulip Festival I saw two ducks walking with their 6 ducklings. I suppose you notice what you want to, but 6 is the number I see everywhere around me.

I don't know what to do going forward. My maternity clothes are packed up and the baby stuff is put away. Do I get rid of it all? I sometimes want to string up the infant car seat and whack it like a pinata. Sadness is real with grief, but so is anger.  When does it get easier? When will my body get the message that there is no baby and get rid of this pregnancy hormone? When will I stop thinking that I have 6 kids when I only have 5?

Thoughts For You

The Classical version of "Baby Mine" is playing on Pandora. Naturally, I think of you. I thought it was time to write down some of my thoughts.

I knew without a doubt there was 1 more child that was supposed to be part of our family. I never was able to get pregnant as quickly as I did with you. I knew that first time we decided to try for another baby that something incredible happened. I knew before I even took a pregnancy test that you were here. When I finally took a pregnancy test, it was immediately positive. Both lines were dark, also a first for me. I happily shouted out to your dad to come and look. I was so excited and so surprised. I felt that this was surely a sign of how meant to be you were for our family.

Given my history, we started prenatal care right away. I had my hCG tested 2 days later and the quant that came back was higher than I had ever had. I tested it again 4 days later and it was an excellent rise. You were a viable pregnancy. I had an early ultrasound done. Everything looked wonderful. I saw the flicker of your heart and your heart rate was 111, perfect for an early pregnancy.

I didn't tell anyone I was pregnant yet. I wanted to tell everyone and now I wish I had. I was happy. But I have lost a pregnancy before and that was so difficult for us. Ok, so I'm totally jaded and ever since that loss I have held back telling anyone about my pregnancies until about the 20th week. I will admit that at the time, I wondered about the timing of all of it. Your brother was going in for heart surgery and I had never been so worried about any of my children like that. I was so stressed as I worried how that would all play out. And for that I am sorry. I wish I could have focused more on you and our short time together. But given the hCG rise and early ultrasound I thought our time would go on. I had no reason to believe I would lose you.

I saw you in another ultrasound 2 days before Liam's surgery. This would be the last time I would see you alive. Your heart was a strong 170 and everything looked perfect. Your growth was right on schedule. Luckily, your dad was there too. He saw you once. We saw you wave. We were so happy. It almost felt too good to be true. How lucky were we to have you. What a strong spirit you had and brought with you. You were a part of our life during the most stressful time and yet you thrived during that time. You were a miracle. You were what kept me as grounded as I could be during that time. You reminded me of all the perfection and goodness in the world.

After Liam's surgery went so well I felt happier than I can ever remember feeling. All of my children were well. Your tiny heart stopped beating around the time Liam went back to school. It was as if as soon as he was fine, it was time for you to leave.

I didn't have any idea you had passed away. This bothers me more than I can tell you. I knew when you were conceived, how could I not know your spirit had left? I don't think I have ever been more devastated than I am now. It has been one thing to lose you, but it has been almost unbearable to have the post-op complications that I have had and what that means for me and our family's future.

I go to sleep crying. Sometimes I wake up crying. I cry during the day. I want to shut myself inside my house from the world. If I could have done something differently to save you, I would have. For every question I find some kind of answer to, 10 more questions arise. I feel like I am drowning in sadness and doubt. I feel like I need something.... but I just don't know what that something is.

I feel like my heart is shattered. I feel like I will never be happy again. I have never wanted anything the way I wanted you. The last night I was pregnant with you, even though you were gone, was still time I was with you. I woke up the day of surgery at 3 am. I went into the bathroom and dropped to my knees and prayed as strongly as I prayed only one time before. I poured my heart out, but it didn't stop any of the pain that just kept coming.

I had already planned out how we would switch around bedrooms. I started buying things for you. I started thinking of names. I would have another baby here this Fall, for all my favorite holidays. I could picture your fuzzy little head. I could smell your sweet new baby scent. I could feel your weight upon my chest as I pictured rocking you at all hours of the night. You were here and you were real. The loss of all the plans I had for you is another loss in itself.

Ashlynne knew you were here. She told me there was a baby in my belly before I even tested. She would put her ear to my belly everyday and talk to you. She said one day that you were being good. Another day she said you were tired. After you left, she knew. One morning about 1 week after my D&C, she crawled into bed with me. It was early morning. I love that early morning light. No one else was awake. She looked at me said that you were still here. I felt like your sister at only 4 had a greater understanding than I did. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of you.

I fear that I will never understand why you couldn't be born and that I will never have the greater perspective of whatever plan is in store for me. I worry that I won't be able to be truly happy again because you should be here. I know that I am not a lot of things and I may not have it all. But I know that I loved you from the instant you were mine and I will never stop loving you. I would have been a good mother because I loved you. I would have done everything if my power to give you all that you needed and wanted. You would have never been put down with  older siblings who would have covered your chubby cheeks in kisses everyday.

I am so sorry that it didn't work out. I wish I knew why. I wish there was something in my control I could have done differently. I will never say goodbye. I don't think I could ever do that. I really hope you  are mine in the eternities. The one hope of 'til we meet again is all I have left.

Heartbeats

There is nothing more comforting than the sound of a heartbeat.

Liam finally had his heart surgery in March. We planned for the worst case scenario, but ended up with the best case scenario. It was truly miraculous. It only took about 5 hours. As soon as the 6 catheters were placed in his heart he went into atrial fibrillation all on his own, no medication to stimulate SVT was needed. He went into SVT in the lower 2 chambers, but not into ventricular fibrillation, so they never had to shock him. The extra electrical pathway was in the left ventricular side. This is exactly what we had hoped and prayed for, it was the most treatable location. They would be able to burn the pathway which is more effective than freezing. They could not access the pathway via his PFO, so the surgeon had to make an additional hole in his heart. This hole that was made inside the heart would not cause Liam any pain, as there are no nerve endings in the heart. After the 2 surgeons burned the pathway they injected medication into his heart and could not get Liam to go into SVT which meant that there was only 1 extra pathway and they had shut it down. They did an echo immediately and saw fluid around his heart, which could have been a result of the surgery, but we later found out that night with a second echo cardiogram that the fluid had not increased, so it was likely already there and unrelated to his surgery.

The surgeon met with us in an office and showed us a printout of Liam's heart. This picture showed us exactly where the catheters were placed and where the pathway was located. We learned that his extra electrical pathway was seriously dangerous with how quickly it was conducting electricity. We had waited just long enough for Liam's heart to be big enough for the surgery, but had done the surgery just in time.

When I saw Liam in PACU the first thing I looked at was the monitor. His heart rate was 108 bpm. A completely normal heart rate for the first time ever. I will never take a heart rate for granted again. He did extremely well post-op. He was admitted as an inpatient. He had to lay completely flat and still post-op for 6 hours and he did it with no complaints or tears. He had an EKG after his echo that night. His surgeon came in to speak with us. We compared that night's EKG results with his previous ones and were astounded. His Delta wave was totally normal and completely flat. His PR interval had slowed way down. I feel like with so may surgeries you don't necessarily see immediate, measurable, or readable results. We saw test results that proved his surgery was a success.

Liam was able to come home the following day. He was sore and stiff and tired but only cried when his pressure bandages were removed. He slept a lot over the weekend. He will take aspirin for a few months. He will see his surgeon in May. If the pathway were to reopen, it would most likely happen within the first 2 months post-op. So after he undergoes some tests in May, we will know more. If those test results come back normal he will follow-up with his surgeon every year for the rest of his life.

I have noticed the color is back in his face, He was so pale and the circles beneath his eyes were so dark. He has started eating more and gaining weight. He gets up around 7:30 am instead of 11:00 am. His energy level is up and he is able to be more active and keep up with kids. He feels good and is happy. I felt that I witnessed a miracle. His heart has been repaired and he does not have a pacemaker. Only time will tell, but I have a really good feeling that he will have an amazing and full life.

I was pregnant during this time. I had seen my little baby 3 times through ultrasounds. I actually saw my baby 2 days before Liam's surgery and all was well, a heart rate strong at 170 bpm. I knew there was another little one that was meant to be part of our family. I knew before I even tested that I was pregnant. I kept the pregnancy to myself, as I have experienced pregnancy loss before. I was nearing the end of the first trimester and felt confident that I should soon let everyone know, but decided to wait until Liam's surgery was over and he was recovered and back at school.

When I went in for my next appointment I had no reason to believe that anything was wrong. My OB could not find the heartbeat with the Doppler, I wasn't worried, that happens. She did a bedside ultrasound and I knew immediately. You could just tell that little spirit had left its body. There was no hand waving this time. I saw the OB try to play and measure the heartbeat only to see a flat line on the screen. She measured its body and it had stopped growing 5 days prior to my appointment. How could I know when this little life was created, but not know when its spirit had departed? I had to meet with my Perinatologist to confirm its death and then again with my OB to form a plan. I had a D&C first thing the next morning. It is such a stark feeling to wake up from a D&C not with child when I was the hour before. After receiving Pitocin and contracting for a good hour post-op, I was recovered in the wing with all the new moms and their newborns. I just wanted to sleep and wake up somewhere else.

My week post-op was extremely rough physically and emotionally. I have cried everyday. I fall asleep crying and I sometimes even wake up crying. I had just experienced a miracle with Liam's heart, why oh why couldn't I have this miracle too? Why did that little heart just stop beating? I have been sad, irrational, and quite frankly mad. I knew this baby was supposed to be here, why couldn't it stay? What kind of plan is this? I have so many questions that I will never have answers to.

The only thing I can make heads or tails of at this time, is that this little one hung on until Liam was recovered and went back to school. As soon as he was ok, I mean that very day, this little one passed away. I am thankful for this one tender mercy, I could not have been the support that I was and as strong as I was for Liam if I had lost this baby beforehand.

I remember the night of Liam's surgery day. Once he was settled, I went down to the cafeteria with my mom to get something to eat. As I sat at the table I was truly, truly happy. For a moment all was perfect in my world. My kids were all ok and healthy. I paused to give thanks. Little did I know then, that could not last. I have come to appreciate the small fleeting moments of perfection.

....But what I would not give to hear that baby's heart rate one more time going strong while relishing the fact that Liam's was normal, slower and steady. Heartbeats are my favorite sound.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

The other day I was tackling laundry. It never ends. And seriously, where do all those missing socks go? Every now and again it hits me how monotonous it can get being a stay-at-home mom. I wash the same clothes and dishes, clean the same rooms, and prepare the same meals over and over. 

I think the Winter months in Utah are particularly hard. When it's too cold, icy, or it's snowing; you're often stuck indoors. So days will pass when I don't talk to anyone besides my kids and my husband. Sometimes by the end of the day when we get everything done and the kids in bed David and I are just so tired that we crash for the night.

I miss the days when we were newly married. We lived in apartment, easy and fast to clean. We didn't have to worry about home maintenance. I only did laundry once a week. We had 1 or 2 small children with no school schedules or extra curricular activities to keep track of. If you wanted to go to St. George in the middle of the week and David had vacation, we could totally be spontaneous and just get in the car and go. We had 1 cell phone that we didn't really use. We didn't text, we didn't Facebook, or Instagram. Truthfully, there was a time we didn't even have a computer, so we hardly emailed. To some degree life was easier.

I miss the simplicity of that special time. I felt present in the moments. I didn't worry as much. I actually talked to friends more. I was more carefree. I wouldn't change the course my life took. I am grateful for each of my children. I just wish that simplicity could have continued forever.

The First Mistake

As a parent you find yourself saying things that you never imagined you could possibly say. You also hear things that you could never have imagined in your wildest dreams.

There is also something about getting in the shower when you have young children. You think you have kids settled down for naps, quiet time, play time, or maybe a movie. That moment when you first step in the steamy shower is so heavenly. You take a big breath. Finally a moment to yourself. And as quickly as you had that thought, something always happens. The baby wakes up, the phone starts ringing, 2 or more kids start fighting. In my case, it's often all of those things. All too often before you have even rinsed the shampoo out of your hair, someone is inevitably in the bathroom. You knew they were coming you heard all that screaming along with thudding footsteps running up the stairs. The heavenly shower is officially over and you scramble to get out quickly. If I'm lucky, I will be in my robe before someone bursts through the bathroom door.

Today was no exception. I heard 3 kids running up the stairs with tales of woe "He did..." and "She did..." and "MOM!!!!" I shouted that I would be out of the bathroom in just a minute. So as soon as I emerged, I asked what in the world had happened in the last few minutes. My oldest daughter was the first to try and explain. "Well, we were playing Hunger Games...". I told her that I was going to have to stop her right there. Clearly I had recognized my first mistake, I let the older 2 read the first 2 books and watch the first 2 movies. I mentally face palmed myself.

Letting It Go

We went to church today. Aidan went up to sing with the Primary for the last time during Christmas. He is so tall and grown up. Where did all the time go? He is so ready to turn 12 and move into Young Men's. I remember the first time we brought him to church was the Sunday before Christmas in 2003. He had an apnea monitor for 6 months after the NICU because he would just randomly stop breathing. We had made it into the foyer with Aidan for the first time when his monitor alarmed. When the alarm went off it sounded just like a smoke alarm. It was so loud. We never made it into the chapel, but we did get him breathing again, and we had attempted to attend church. So fast forward 11 years later and I am amazed how strong and healthy he is. Aidan is by far my healthiest child now. He is such a deep and critical thinker, smart, kind, and funny. I could not have ever imagined in 2003, when he was born after he coded 20 minutes after birth, how well he would one day be. No matter how much time goes by he will always remain a toddler in my mind. He had chubby hands that always grabbed my face and covered my cheeks in kisses. 

As a parent we look forward to firsts and mile markers so eagerly, that we rarely realize when something happens for the last time. All too soon they gain self sufficiency. One less child to bathe, one less child who needs a bed time story, and 2 less feet underfoot. I think it is harder to let them go little by little to make their choices and find their path then it is to have a little one in constant need. Sometimes you can see what will happen form a choice they make and you have to let them find out for themselves.

When I was a younger and newer parent I was such a stickler for routines and structure. I tried to keep nap times, bedtimes, meal times, bath time, and even play time to their exact times. I felt like I had complete control over how the day would go if I kept to the schedule. The more parenting experience I have gained the more I have realized that I don't have any control. The children we have come with their own unique personalities. They come with their individual needs and trials. 

Today I sang Christmas songs for hymns at church with my little Liam curled up beside me. Tears fell. I have a constant prayer in my heart, pleading really, that he will be ok. Between my fervent pleas over his health and the words of the songs I love so much, I felt as if my heart would burst open.  I don't really have control over much. I think the hardest realization for me has been that I just have to let it go. I do the best that I can and send those prayers up, and whatever is to be will be.

I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

You win some, you lose some. Today kicked my trash. If only I had 3 phones. I was fighting with my health insurance on my cell phone and a hospital on my landline. Go ahead and deny claims before Christmas, Blue Cross, that's exactly what I hoped would happen.

We're having issues with Liam's monitor. Apparently the night shift people are less than stellar and cannot perform basic trouble shooting. He's 6 and could die suddenly, that's cool, no worries. I'll just call back in the morning and talk to someone different.

I don't know what it is about Christmas. I totally feel the Spirit and see the good, but at the same time everything is going wrong. I feel happy and cry tears of gratitude. I feel angry and I cry out of frustration. This month has been filled with the highest of highs and lowest of lows. I feel like I am taking crazy pills sometimes.


There is so much to do and I feel like I am struggling to keep afloat doing the things that have to be done. I haven't baked a single cookie. I don't have stocking stuffers. I only ordered Christmas presents off of Amazon on Tuesday,so all of that just arrived and needs to be wrapped. Never mind all the menu planning, grocery shopping, and cooking. I don't do Elf on the Shelf. My kids remind me of this everyday. I don't have time for that, but I wish that I did. I could rock that.

We took our kids out to the zoo on Monday night for Christmas lights. It was really cold. My baby hasn't been the same since. He is fevering and sick. His breathing sounds tight and his famous bark is louder. With his trachea being compressed by his innominate artery, when he gets an upper respiratory infection, he has to be hospitalized. I can't spend time in the hospital with a sick baby. That could very well be my snapping point.

My son told me that he would prefer to "hitch a ride home with Brother ***** because his car is all leather and cool and only has 4 seats". He drives a Mercedes or BMW, I can't remember which. That did it for me. I could no longer keep the tears at bay. I just can't fight this feeling anymore.... I forgot what I started fighting for....

So tomorrow will be a new day. We'll see what it brings. I have several Diet Cokes chilling in the fridge. I plan on downing 2 of them before 10 am.

Take Time to Enjoy the View

I admit that I am a hoarder of sorts. I hoard pictures. I take pictures all the time. I don't even like erasing my memory cards, just in case something goes wrong with our computers. I haven't printed pictures as often as I should and thought of printing 10,000 pictures or doing some kind of kind of digital scrapbook overwhelms me. So I have a lot of memory cards.

But I take pictures almost daily of something because they help me. Everyday I find something that I am grateful for, that I think is cute, that I think is funny, or whatever the reason du jour may be. When I take a picture it makes me pause from whatever else is going around me. It makes me really notice my kids and the world around me. I stop and think to myself things like: I'm lucky, I'm blessed, I'm happy. When I do this, time freezes if only for a few seconds, and I realize what life is all about. (Right now the words to the song, "In My Daughter's Eyes" are going through my mind.) And those pictures I take by the dozens and hold on to get me through the tough times. Those pictures are fleeting moments of perfection where time stood still and I paid attention.

It's interesting how many of us post pictures on social media sites of only our best moments, but I get it. There's a story in between each of those pictures that plays out which many don't know of or see. Those best moments I post in pictures are what gets me through all of the trials. I remember when I look through all those pictures..... it won't always be this way for good or for bad, so take a moment and remember everyday that there is always something to appreciate.

Special Delivery

I got home yesterday evening after a long doctor's appointment with my 6 year old, Liam. His heart is too small to safely do the surgery he so desperately needs. Crazy, right? They can do open heart surgery on a newborn and yet the procedure he needs to have done is too risky for his heart size. We need more time. It's such a gamble. Do the procedure too soon, you risk death. And everyday that we wait we risk sudden death.

I do not sleep well at night anymore. Last night I took half  of a sleeping pill and still sleep eluded me. I have a permanent migraine. I cannot turn off the anxiety, the questions, the worry. I feel like if we do it too soon, it will be my fault. If we wait too long, it will be my fault. This of course is not true. But, I have to have control of things to make me feel sane and normal. And this one... is in God's hands. I can scarcely handle that this is what it is. I have no control. All I can do is take care of my son and pray. And then pray some more.

To buy us some time he will be wearing an event monitor 24 hours a day for the next month. This is legit, it comes with a cell phone so the monitoring company and doctor can reach us at all times. The Cardiologist let me know we will be talking a lot. Then we will start Liam on a beta blocker twice a day to slow his AV Node. Hopefully all of this will let his little heart grow so this amazing surgeon can get in there and fix it.

As I pulled into my garage last night, UPS pulled up. The man came into my garage and handed me our special little package. All of Liam's heart monitoring equipment. Sometimes the reality and weight of this situation comes crashing down on me like a ton of bricks.

When I was younger I loved amusement parks and their super fast, twisting, turning, dropping, upside down thriller rides. I hate them now. I feel like my reality gives me that sinking, dropping feeling in the pit of my stomach everyday. My life is a roller coaster with its ups and downs, twists and turns. I don't need a roller coaster for the thrill anymore. Just living gives me that. I remind myself every day that I wake up that life isn't just to be endured; it is to be enjoyed. Some days I find it easier to enjoy than others. But I always thank my Heavenly Father for allowing me the gift of the ride.

Christmas Perhaps Means a Little Bit More

Last Friday we took our kids up to Temple Square. It was the first night of their Christmas lights. It was a cool night, but not cold. We have been really lucky this December, so far no snow or ice or really freezing temperatures. I have probably jinxed myself by saying that now. It was very crowded. They opened the gates around the temple. I have never seen the gates open around the temple for visitors other than wedding party guests. We took the path less traveled that night and steered away from the reflecting pond and walked right up to the temple. My kids could actually go up to the big wooden doors and touch the beautiful brass handles. I told them to touch the cool, hard granite exterior. I told them how amazing it was that the exterior's stone was carved and bought down from the mountains. I can't even fully comprehend the 44 years it took to build the Salt Lake Temple, more than my lifetime thus far. How many hands had worked so hard to build this wonderful temple? And here my 5 children were with their hands touching this sacred building. As my 9 year old daughter, Seery, stood at the top of the steps to one of the great wooden doors with her hand firmly wrapped around its brass doorknob..... I was overcome with emotion. Never had I felt more strongly the words come alive from one of my favorite primary songs, "I love to see the temple, I'll go inside someday." She will, they all will. My children could feel the Spirit. I could feel the Spirit. I felt happy. I felt time stand still for just a moment. This was a perfect moment.

As we were leaving the temple's grounds we stopped at the crosswalk. I began counting my kids. It is a habit that I cannot quit, especially when we are in crowded areas. My heart stopped as I noticed that Aidan was not right there with us. Thankfully, he came running to my side before I could even say anything to David. I asked him where he had been. He didn't say anything at first, but as David walked across the street towards City Creek with the other 4 kids, we had a few precious minutes to ourselves. I kept asking questions. Aidan finally told me what happened. On our way in to see the lights he noticed a few homeless people. There was one man in particular that stood out to him. Aidan decided that he would think about this man and his needs as he walked through Temple Square. On his way out, he felt he knew just what he should do. Aidan had $2 to his name, that just so happened to be in his pocket. He gave this man his money on his way out, in the hopes that he would be able to buy himself dinner at a place like McDonald's, since they have a $1 menu. I began to tear up as I listened, which of course my son noticed. He told me he did it because he felt he should; it was the right thing to do. He said that he wasn't going to say anything to me because he didn't want anyone to know about it. Well, at this I actually cried. My son noticed a person, perceived their needs, and gave away all the money in his possession in the hopes that it would help and bring comfort without wanting any sort of worldly recognition. It was in this moment that I remembered what Christmas is all about. It was in this moment I snapped out of whatever pity party I had let myself wallow in for too many days. My son reminded me that there is good everywhere. Love abounds. Filling other people's buckets with light is where joy is to be found. If we didn't know sorrow and pain, then we wouldn't know utter joy and true love. My trials have taught me how to be flexible, how to stretch and how to grow. My kids are turning into thoughtful and kind people who seek out ways to serve. I am unsure how far the ripple of effect will be from Aidan's gift to a man he has never met, but I hope the man felt love. Children really are so simple, pure, and trusting. They see people as they really are, as the Savior would see them. I know I felt the Spirit testify to me in that moment talking with my oldest son, that God lives and He loves each and every one of us. If I could have one wish, then it would be for everyone to feel of His love and know that they are of infinite worth. If we all could see ourselves through His eyes, through a child's eyes, I know this world would be a better place.

"Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!” 

― Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

When it Rains it Pours

When it rains it pours. So cliche, yet so true. I think it to myself all the time. Our dryer died in the middle of a load of kids' clothes on Saturday morning. To not have a dryer working in the winter when you have 5 kids is just a nightmare. Today our desktop computer died. The blue screen of death appeared and now I can't get anything to work on the computer after I restarted it. All of our pictures are on there, which is all I really care about. Of course I didn't back them up or print them. 2 drawers in our kitchen broke and one bathroom cabinet drawer in the kids bathroom broke too. Sometimes I look around my house at everything that is breaking and I am completely overwhelmed. I know all of these things are just that, Things. But when I look at all the medical bills and just how expensive it is in general to support a large family.... the one thing that could fix all of this is the one thing I don't have. Money. They say count your blessings and be grateful in all circumstances. They say it will all work out. I have done these things and sometimes it doesn't work out. We started this year debt free. We had a good amount in our savings account and a little in our Money Market. Now we have credit card debt, a car payment, because David's car died just shy of 300,00 miles, and not a dollar to our name in any savings account. I'm scared. My kids want to put up the Christmas tree. I want to hide. I can't give them anything on their lists this year. I feel like a failure of a mother. My 11 year old can see I am at the end of my rope today. He gathered up his younger brothers and sisters and turned on a Christmas movie and said that I needed some time alone. I decided to blog and get all of these feelings out of me. They say focus on the Savior and the true meaning of Christmas and that it will be the best Christmas ever. Really? I'm not so sure. When you have no money, And I mean I do not know how I will make it to the next week because I have exhausted every resource. How can you be totally grateful and happy? We have been good people and done all that we are supposed to, and it's never enough. We are losing an uphill battle. I don't know what to do. I know things don't matter, but I wonder if the people who say that have really been down to literally their last dollar.

The Weather

Every morning when my kids wake up they come to my room. First they say "good morning",  and then they ask me what the weather will be like for the day. This morning, David was in charge. They didn't come in our room and I had a some time for myself. Out of pure habit once I was ready to get up for the day, I checked my phone to see what the weather would be. It was something like 32 degrees with a real feel of 28 degrees, intermittent clouds, and a 25% chance of precipitation. It made me smile that the weather could be so fitting for the mood I seemed to be in. On the outside I appeared one way, but felt a little cooler/sadder on the inside, and I figured that there was a pretty good chance I would cry. I didn't want to go to church this morning, as terrible as that sounds. It's funny how that is sometimes, at least for me. When you're struggling church is the one place you should want to go and yet sometimes I find it hard to go when I am having a hard time. I wanted to stay in my pajamas, in my bed, wrapped in my comforter for the day. I got all 5 kids ready for church, still not dressed myself. It was 12:44 pm, church starts at 1:00 pm. I forced myself to put on my makeup and get dressed for church. We were late and took the sacrament in the foyer. If you ask my kids, the worst part about being late is sitting in the back on the hard chairs. After Sacrament was over, "it" happened. A friend and neighbor for almost 8 years was suddenly sitting beside me. She looked me right in the eyes and sincerely asked how I was doing. My whole facade crumbled instantly. I could not fake it. I am exhausted. I did not have the energy to smile and say that I was fine. I was nothing but real and honest. I cried and told her how I really felt about everything that is going on with our family. She listened. She empathized. So when we finished talking I went to the bathroom to fix my makeup and put that game face back on. Before I made it to Relief Society another friend that I didn't even see coming down the hall, grabbed my arm and sincerely asked how I was doing. I cried again. I have been a hot mess all day long. It's like the floodgates have opened. And maybe that's ok. I have realized that the whole "fake it 'til you make it" attitude is pretty lame. I know that trials are like buses- there's always another one coming. Life will always be busy, wonderful, sad, stressful, funny, and everything else in between. So it's probably better to just be real. I like it when other people are real with me. Nobody wants a Stepford Wife for a friend, right?

Emotional Tug-of-War

My 5 year old son, Liam, has a serious heart condition called Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. He began seeing a Pediatric Cardiologist in January this year. After the EKG, Echo, Holter Monitoring, and Clinical exam, we learned that he didn't have what we originally thought, ASD, and were then referred to a Pediatric Cardiologist Electrophysiologist. Dr. Gamboa is the nicest specialist/surgeon I have ever met, and believe me when I say that I have met dozens. He cares and he calls us personally to check on Liam. So with Liam's WPW diagnosis we have been thrown into a whole new world with medical terms that are sometimes hard to pronounce and spell and even harder to explain. In a nutshell he has 2 problems: an extra electrical pathway in his heart and a PFO. With this extra pathway Liam has SVT episodes where his heart beats so fast you cannot accurately count the bpm. It is normal for Liam to have a heart rate of 170 bpm doing absolutely nothing. Can you iagine how that would feel? I can't. We are fortunate to have found this problem as early as we have, most kids are not diagnosed until adolescence. This is the kind of syndrome where people will die of sudden death. The doctor warned us several times about the real possibility of sudden death. Liam could go to sleep and not wake up or go into Atrial Fibrillation, which if that starts (the top 2 chambers of his heart beating at over 300 with no time to eject blood) there is nothing in this world that can save him. There is also nothing to prevent atrial fibrillation. So he needs 2 different heart surgeries. However, to have the first and most important surgery you have to be 5 years old and weigh 20 kilograms. Liam barely meets these requirements. If surgery is done to soon, permanent damage is risked to the heart, and he ends up with a pacemaker or dead. If we wait too long we risk sudden death which is always a possibility. I have never in my life, until this moment, had a life or death decision to make. My heart is so heavy. I love this little boy so much, When he has this surgery they will go into his heart, inject medication into his heart to stimulate a SVT episode, find the pathway, reverse the meds and then burn or freeze, depending on its location, this pathway. They will leave him on the table for some time because his heart will try to reopen this pathway or create a new one, that's just part of his syndrome and if that happens, which it probably will they repeat the whole process. He will stay in the hospital post-op, for how long depends on the surgery. The first 3 months post-op are the most critical. Once the surgery is deemed successful he will have a second surgery to close a hole in his heart, a PFO. And then for the rest of his life he will see a Cardiologist. He could end up repeating ablation many times, end up with a pacemaker, and/or be put on medication. When he has episodes now, we use vagral methods to slow his heart, which have worked so far. If he ever has heart rate 200 or above for 20 minutes, we call 911. I had a meeting with his elementary school about his condition and what to do if Liam says that his, "heart isn't taking any breaks". A conference room full of people who have contact with Liam, Kindergarten team, Speech Therapist, PE teacher, school nurse, principal, and office staff, listening to me while I spoke and showed them diagrams. They have handled his episodes amazingly well. He is in good hands there.

But the emotional tug-of-war, is real. I am overwhelmed, sad, stressed to the max, worried, frustrated, and many other things depending on the moment. But I am grateful beyond description for knowledgeable and caring doctors and the technology and safe medical practices that we have available here. I go back and forth between these 2 sets of emotions. Sometimes I am ok and sometimes I am not. I totally fake it. I have an extremely difficult time letting people in and confiding. I smile and pretend that everything is fine and we are so lucky and blessed, and we are, it's just that I don't feel only that way all the time. We have had many surgeries and trials of health and I worry that people have labeled us as "people with sick kids". I have been told supportive things and mean things. Once after a very difficult pregnancy loss a neighbor actually said, "Maybe if you were a better mom God would not have taken your baby away".  I was speechless. How could someone think like that, let alone say it out loud? There are many "before and "after" moments in your life and that pregnancy loss was a defining moment in my life. And unfortunately no matter how many wonderful people have come into my life, that one stupid comment has haunted me. I second guess myself all the time. I look at Facebook and see everything that I am not. I tend to keep to myself which is painfully lonely sometimes. Life is so hard, harder than I ever could have imagined. Someone recently said, "you haven't learned what you were supposed to learn, that is why you keep having these trials." Really? I think our mortal bodies are imperfect and we get sick. I don't think my Heavenly Father is punishing me for not "getting" some lesson by making my kids sick or have syndromes. I know that people mean well. But off remarks that try to rationalize and make sense of things hurt, they don't help. I will gladly take a hug any day or just a sincere "how are you today?".

Time to Blog Again

It has been over 3 years since my last blog post. We have had another child and life seems to speed up and get busier everyday. I think I have relied too much on other social media sites to keep track and make note of the events in our lives. But I don't write anymore. As I have begun to dive into family history I have realized how important it is to write as much as possible down. Since I don't journal anymore, my hand cramps when I hand write too much so I think I will start to blog again. I know how special I find my family members' personal histories. I think one day, perhaps, my children and grandchildren might want to read about me.

I am 35 this year. It was not an easy birthday. I had a lot of plans, dreams, and ideas. Life has definitely taken some turns in the road. I think I am living on Plan C by now. I thought I would have it all figured out by the ripe old age of 35. It's only now I realize that I was mistaken. I still have a lot to learn. What I do know is that I love being a mother beyond all description. I am a night owl. I go to bed wide awake every night with thoughts racing through my mind, and therefore wake up tired. My days are busy with 5 children tugging at my pants and always needing something. I clean up more spills and pick up more toys than I could have ever imagined. We have a lot of health trials. But there are 2 things that have been made crystal clear to me this year. I am blessed. How fortunate am I to live in the land of the free. How fortunate am I to have a house to clean, clothes to wear, food to eat, and toys for my children. Trials of health are the most difficult to bear and this is why so many miracles that our Savior performed centered around healing. So I know that through the refiner's fire the Savior is well aware of those sufferings because He has suffered them all.

The Time Has Come...

I can't believe my little girl is old enough for Kindergarten! It feels like yesterday that I brought her home from the hospital. I will never forget that my daughter was dancing before she was walking. She is such a delight. I admire her confidence. Seery is such a wonderful sister and help to me. She has a larger than life personality that fills our home with energy, smiles, and laughter. And the day finally arrived that she will go to school everyday. Time really does go by quickly. She got her haircut yesterday. She has decided to keep it short because "everyone says I'm so cute with short hair". She wore a new purple dress from Aunt Kristin with sandals. Her nails were painted pink with sparkles. She was ready. I drove her to school. She goes in the afternoon to Saratoga Spring's new school, Thunder Ridge Elementary. Her teacher is Mrs. Crockett. She walked right into class, hung her backpack, found her name tag and I helped pin it on her dress, and she sat at her desk to read a book. She hugged me goodbye and flashed her confident smile. I knew she was excited and would be fine. I, on the other hand, shed a few tears. Thank goodness Kindergarten is only a half day, I'm not ready to part with her for a whole day yet.

(The pictures above were her homework to bring to class today.)

Lunch Conversation

Seery: "When I'm married and go on dates you will have to watch my kids."
Me: "What if you move away and don't live by me?"
Seery: "Well my husband is going to get a job in Hawaii. So I'll have to move there. But don't worry I'm going to give you $100 so you can move there too!"

Time to Go

Yesterday, I said to the kids "It's time to go take Seery to school." I put the baby in the car and turn to find Liam ready to go alright. He decided to wear my shoes and grab one of my purses. He put his toy cell phone and sippy cup with water in the purse. (I never leave the house without my cell phone and a bottle of water in my purse) I have been told that "immitation is the highest form of flattery". I'll take it.

Happy Groundhog's Day!

Phil the Groundhog did not see his shadow today! He has predicted an early Spring which rarely happens. We will see... it is hard to believe with the Arctic front we are experiencing! Anyways, I love to celebrate every single holiday. It's fun how excited my kids get on each holiday, no matter how small. I adore my kids' artwork, but more importantly I love to see their proud look when they have created something.