Thankful Through The Storm

My son has asthma.

Dr. Omar went over it with us when Nate and I took 2.0 in to be checked for pneumonia for the third time in four months.  The way that kids are diagnosed with asthma is they have to have three or more asthmatic episodes in six months.  Normally this happens with colds or changes in the seasons and can only be treated with steroids and albuterol.  We met the third time this morning.

I knew this was coming when I saw the runny nose on Tuesday morning.  I knew deep down in my heart that we were approaching this precipice and once we got there, it was going to be what it was going to be.  Nothing can change it and nothing would be like it was before.

Last night and into this morning, while I held this screaming mess of a kid and tried in vain to soothe him for hours, I was overcome with the goodness of the God I serve.  I prayed for what felt like hours, patting my son's heaving back as he tried to catch his breath.  I prayed that his lungs would open and he would breathe again.  I prayed that the One who breathed life into him almost two years ago would breathe in him now.  When 2.0's breathing went from labored and shallow to deeper and restful, tears ran down my cheeks as I thanked Him for the miracle He was working in my child.

2.0 woke up at 6am screaming again and I did the same as I had done before.  I sat in his rocking chair, patting his back as the skin over his ribs caved in with his effort to breathe.  I prayed for relief, for rest, for it to just stop for this little person who couldn't do anything else to make it better.  Again my prayers were answered and he rested for three more hours.

I have to be strong here.  I have to look into the hurricane coming toward me and be as Jesus was when He faced the storm that the disciples were sure was going to sink the boat they were in.  I have to be calm, to be still, and know that whatever happens, God is going to be there with me in it.  I also need to stop punishing myself for what is happening to my child.  This isn't a punishment for things I've done wrong in my life, it's not punishment for things Nate's done wrong.  This just is.  Sometimes bad things happen to good people because God wants to use it to His glory.

In reality, this isn't that bad.  It's asthma.  Not cancer or cystic fibrosis or muscular dystrophy.  My son is still able to walk and talk and will continue to do so.  He's able to play with other kids and only needs a little bit of medicine to keep him from wheezing in his sleep.  What feels like a hurricane to me would seem like a summer shower to someone else dealing with so much more.

So even though I feel like the wind may shake my house to the ground and even though I'm sure that the storm will sweep me out to a much more perilous sea, I'm thankful.  I'm thankful that I'm not alone in this.  God will be there with me and when I don't think I can keep going, He will give me the strength to keep going on.

Date Night

Nate and I got to have an actual date night last night just over a week after our anniversary.  It was so nice!  When people have told us how we need to make each other a priority, we both brushed it off.  We have an infant for goodness sakes!  How can we possibly make our relationship a priority?  Sure, we've had more offers than either of us ever thought would be possible for babysitters, but leave our son?  With someone else? Can we actually do that?

Now that we have a toddler, the idea of date night became more and more appealing.  Time without the child?  That's actually something we can have?  Going to a movie is possible?

On our limited budget, date nights aren't something we've been able to afford either.  For two of us to go to a movie costs about $20.  Then if we want to go eat before or after, that's another $10 or so.  So at the very least, we're looking at $30.  That could be used for diapers instead of time together.  Then we discovered $5 Tuesdays at the movie theater.  All of a sudden date night became more possible.

Leaving 2.0 with our good friend and neighbor Kelly, we took off to DQ.  Yes, we have Whitey's here and it would've been comparable in price, but sometimes you just want a blizzard.  After ordering our treats, we went outside to sit in the beautiful weather, talking about nothing, not answering email or looking at our phones for more than the time.  No kid talk, no work talk, no talk about Nate's new cornea.  Just inside jokes and mindless goofing off.  It reminded me of when we first got married all those years ago...

We went from there to the movie theater for the Avengers.  We saw previews for movies we want to see later this summer.  We held hands as we watched the movie, leaning over to whisper comments to each other.  We laughed at the same parts.  I was reminded of what it had been like before the baby, before we got married, when we were dating and sitting through Spiderman 2 among other movies.  It was wonderful.  After the movie was over, we both knew it was time to go back to being parents, to go back to real life.  But then Nate turned to me and said "want to sneak into Men In Black 3?" and for a moment I was tempted.

Maybe if it hadn't been bed time...

It made me a little sad to think that I didn't miss my little boy the whole time we were gone.  I didn't want the date to end.  When we got home and I saw my son look up at me and smile, then run to his father and jabber at him in baby language, I was happy.  It was nice to have a break, but it was nice to come home too.  It was even nicer to remember who my husband is and what we have always had together.  

Next time we'll have to sneak into Men In Black 3.

Goodbye 10 Pounds! Don't Come Back!

Before 2.0 was conceived, I weighed in at 320 pounds.  I promised myself I would never go back to that weight or ever be over 300 again, so I started working very hard to lose weight.  I measured all my food, stopped eating sugar, took supplements, and worked out twice a week (Zumba!).  It was hard and I hated parts of it (measuring food really stinks), but I wanted to lose weight and fit into nice clothes.  Sometimes you have to give up things you like to get to a place you'll like more.  By June of 2010, I was 277 pounds.  I'd lost 43 pounds in four months.

Prior to my weight loss journey, I had been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), which means my ovaries have microscopic cysts in them that mess with my hormones and make it very hard to ovulate, which means I have a hard time getting pregnant.  I don't have regular cycles and it's hard for me to lose weight.  But the scariest part of PCOS is the insulin resistance that leads to type II diabetes.  Because of the PCOS, I have a harder time losing weight than most people do.  I knew this when I started losing the weight and didn't expect it to come off.  I didn't think that weight loss would lead to pregnancy, so it wasn't something I was even paying attention to.

Then at the end of June I started to feel really tired.  After that I started to feel sick to my stomach.  I was told to take a pregnancy test and much to my surprise, it was positive.  2.0 was born in February of 2011.  I'm now excited at the prospect of having baby #2 after my IUD was removed at the end of March 2012.

I've run into a slight snag with my plans to have a second child though.  See, after the IUD was put in at my 6 week post partum appointment in April of 2011, I started gaining weight.  A lot of weight.  I gained it rather quickly too.  That wasn't supposed to happen.  Breastfeeding helps burn lots of calories.  I shouldn't be as heavy as I am.  But what I didn't know about the IUD was that some women gain weight with it.  Some of them gain 20-30 pounds and don't have a good reaction to the IUD.  I am one of them.

So last month, when I went for my check up with my new general practitioner, you can probably imagine my horror and surprise when the scale said 325.  I wanted the ground to swallow me whole right then and there.  The word obese was written on my chart.  I was being checked for type II diabetes.  This was not supposed to be happening.

I made up my mind right then and there that this needed to turn around and this time, I wouldn't be able to use the supplements I was used to because I needed to learn how to do this on my own.  So I waved goodbye to fast food, goodbye to regular pop, goodbye to empty carbs and high fat.  I bid some of my favorite foods adieu.  I then said hello to a pedometer and water and Splenda and started walking miles upon miles.

I weighed myself this morning and saw 315.  After one month (almost to the day), I've lost ten pounds.  I'm walking as many days as I can, taking 1000 mg of metformin a day (metformin is a drug used for diabetes, but in women with PCOS it causes hormones to regulate, which makes cycles more regular and helps the body use food more productively and enables more successful weight loss), drinking water every chance I get, reading books about food and getting control of your diet.  I'm trying to be more active and think more about what I'm putting in my mouth (because 2.0 is now putting that food in his mouth too).  I'm in love with Eat This, Not That because it's honest about what's really in your food.

Hopefully I'll lose another ten pounds next month.  And again the month after that.  Then maybe 2.0 will have a sibling soon.

Adjustments

Since Nate's cornea transplant, there's been a lot of shifting around here.  Some of it has been good and some of it not so good.

When this surgery was scheduled, we all knew that it meant there were some short term inconveniences that would lead to long term gain.  Pain is momentary, but good vision is forever.  It's one thing when it's all in your mind and abstract, sometime way off in the future.  It's entirely different when it actually comes to pass.

Nate can't lift over 25 pounds, which means he can't pick up our son.  With his sensitivity to light and sound right now, he can't stand listening to 2.0 screeching and jabbering either.  So what happens when you add a cranky toddler and a cranky daddy together with a mom who can't quite referee the situation quick enough?  You get Daddy yelling at the toddler to 'knock it off!', the toddler starting to cry (loudly) because Daddy just yelled at him and Daddy has never yelled at him before.  You get Daddy yelling at Mom to get the child out of the room, Mom yelling back that she only has two hands and can only do so many things at once (Mom was getting pain medication and water for Daddy when this event occurred), Mom taking the toddler out into the living room after handing the pain medicine and water to Daddy, and shutting the door while thinking that this was not what she signed up for with the aftermath of this surgery.

It doesn't help that I'm tired from all the emotional upheaval and haven't been sleeping well.  We're all just tired and cranky and wondering why this isn't turning out like we were told it would.  I knew Nate was going to have a hard time of things because he doesn't handle pain well (does anyone really handle eye pain well?) and he's going to want to curl up in a ball in a dark room and forget that anyone else exists.  I knew he was going to resist me when I told him to open his eyes and use them so they get used to the light in the house.  I knew he was going to whine and moan in bed like he's dying (the man doesn't handle illness very well either).  I just didn't expect this cranky person who's barking orders at me and demanding I take care of him quickly and before anyone else.

It's like having two toddlers and one of them is too big for me to pick up and carry around to make him feel better.

My marriage vows included 'in sickness and in health' and 'for better or worse'.  Right now, Nate is being worse.  But this all was to be expected and this too shall pass.  The long term gain is worth this and a lot more.  I also try to remember when I had just given birth to our little boy, when I wasn't the best person in the world to be around.  Nate was there for me then and I'm here for him now.

I just need some time away from this whole thing for a little bit I think.  That's what the library is for.

The Transplant

The last two or so days have been some of the hardest days of my life.  Outside of the first few days at home after 2.0 was born, it's been difficult to keep going.

My husband, my son, my mom and I left Wednesday night (around 6pm) to head to Iowa City because Nate's transplant was scheduled for 6am Thursday morning.  If we hadn't gone the night before, we all would've been up at 3am and driving at 430 and it wouldn't have been a good day.  My in laws suggested the room and paid for the extra night (Thank You!), so we ate a late dinner, bought supplies at Walmart, and went to bed.

Thursday morning, Nate got me up at 445am (we'd gone to bed at 1130pm) to get ready to leave.  We showered, packed some things for the wait during the surgery (I couldn't leave the hospital while he was in surgery, which goes without saying), made sure 2.0 had everything he would need for the day with his grandma, and we left.  When we arrived, Nate's parents and grandparents were there to pray with us before Nate was prepped.  I went back with him and helped him as he was gowned, had an IV put in, and consented to the surgery.  At around 7am, we said goodbye and I went out to wait.

I hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so my mother in law and Nate's grandparents went upstairs to get something to eat, and then we just waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Around 10am, the cornea surgeon came to talk to us and let us know that the procedure went well.  He was able to give Nate a partial cornea transplant, which means that the 10% of cornea closest to the inside of his eye is still his.  The other 90% is donor cornea.  Nate was in recovery and was waking up.  We'd be able to see him shortly.

But it was a long time before we saw him.  Two hours to be precise.  Nate did not react well to the medicine that was used to put him to sleep and started throwing up.  Around noon, I was taken back to see him.  He looked good, but he was in an extreme amount of pain.  Add to that the nausea and vomiting that he was having and he was not doing so well.  He couldn't keep down the pain medicine, but eventually the nurses (who were awesome!) said that the doctor wanted him to go home.

This is where it gets hard and I get a little peeved over the whole thing.  While he was sitting in the wheelchair in the hallway (getting ready to go home) Nate threw up again.  Now, for those of you who aren't medically inclined, you don't send someone home from surgery while they are throwing up.  But the hospital did.  Not only that, but they told me that he was going to be fine, let him eat whatever he wanted, and to keep him quiet and rested.  So I did that.  I took him back to the hotel, kept him in bed, and kept giving him the pain medicine the doctors gave him (which they didn't want to give him because apparently "cornea transplants don't cause pain" which is bull*&$% in my mind).

When we get back to the hotel, Nate can't keep crackers, water, or his pain medicine down.  By 8:55pm, I'm madder than heck and calling the hospital only to be told by the doctor on call that he couldn't see Nate right then (WTH?!) and would we mind coming to the locked up eye clinic at 10pm to be seen?  *sigh* Fine.  When we get to the eye clinic (which is attached to the hospital but isn't used after 5), we are told to wait (by the doctor on call mind you) for another 20 minutes because he has to take care of another case.  We're not waiting in a waiting room with people to help care for Nate though.  No.  We're waiting in an air lock-like area right at the entrance of the hospital and Nate's sick to his stomach again and in an immense amount of pain.  I hung up on the on call doctor and took him to the ER.

I understand why the doctor didn't want to give Nate medicine to help with the vomiting.  I understand that the vomiting is a symptom of increased eye pressure, blah blah blah.  Why wasn't I told that when I took him home?  Why was he sent home in the first place if that was a problem?  When his eye pressure was checked and came back normal, he was given medicine to stop the vomiting and we were sent back to the hotel.  At 1230am.  After being up since 445am.

We went back this morning at 830am for Nate's follow up appointment with his surgeon.  I love the surgeon as he's very smart and very kind and if I'd called him last night at 8:55pm, I'm sure he would've given Nate the medicine.  But some of his staff are rude and mean.  They made me feel like a complete moron when I mentioned that Nate was in pain (because "cornea transplants don't cause pain") and then proceeded to tempt me to beat them about the head and neck with a blunt object.  But the surgeon was great.  He is confident that this is going to work and everything is going to be wonderful.

So now we're back home in Davenport.  Nate is sleeping, 2.0 is napping.  Everyone is okay.  Tired, but okay.  I really don't want to do this again.  Or at least, I want better care.  But next time, I'm going to know what's happening and what to do.

Now I'm going to take a nap.

Countdown To Tomorrow

My husband is having a cornea transplant tomorrow.

We've known for awhile that he was going to need this surgery.  We also know that he's going to have another one done on the other eye about six to eight months after this one.

My husband has an eye condition called keratoconus.  He's been treated with hard contact lenses that are the size of a soft lens and he has to wear glasses to correct a little bit of nearsightedness.  When we couldn't afford to get his contacts, he decided to just go without any corrective lenses.  Eventually though, he couldn't pass the vision test to renew his license and he started to have trouble finding me in the store.

We decided that it was time to find out just how severe the keratoconus had gotten so we went to an optometrist in February, knowing we would be referred to the University of Iowa hospital in Iowa City to see the experts in our area.  When we saw them at the end of March, we didn't know what to expect.  The cornea transplant was the last thing we thought was coming.

In a follow up with my husband's contact lens doctor (he has to have a special doctor just for the contact lenses because the size makes them hard to fit), she recommended that he have another transplant in the other eye because the keratoconus had advanced to the point that finding the right contact lens for his 'good' eye was getting difficult.

It's going to be hard for Nate for the next three months because he won't be able to pick up our son.  2.0 weighs about 25 pounds and Nate's weight restriction is 20 pounds.  He won't be able to play with 2.0 like he does now, he won't be able to help me with 2.0 like he does.  And just at the time when 2.0 wants to play with Daddy more...

But in the end, Nate is going to be able to see.  That's more important than anything else.

Dear First Time Mom

In honor of Mother's Day, I feel the need to pass a few tidbits of information on to other First Time Moms.  Please read this post and feel lighthearted and laugh a little bit.

• Pregnancy is the last time that everything is about you.  
• A birth plan is simply a wish list for your labor and birth experience.  While I'm sure it would be nice if you could give birth in a warm pool of water with aromatherapy candles lit around the tub and Enya playing in the background, that's probably not going to happen.  However, important things like wanting your spouse to cut the umbilical cord and only wanting a c-section in case of emergency, should be in there.
• Contractions hurt.  While that's not a surprise to you right now, they hurt more than you think they do when the moment comes.  They hurt more if you're laboring overnight.  They hurt more than menstrual cramps.  Be prepared for the worst pain you can think of times about one million.
• That being said, if you want an epidural, by all means get one.  You don't have to be a hero, you don't have to suffer because your mother didn't have one or your best friend didn't have one.  Just get it if you think you'll want it.  Get it if you're laboring overnight so you can sleep.  By the way, the anesthesiologist you get at night will not be a nice person.  Just be prepared for that too.
• That burning sensation when you push is a good thing.  Just push through it and don't be afraid of it.
• Don't worry about pooping during delivery.  Everyone will tell you that you didn't even if you did.
• After you push a baby through that tiny opening down below, you will hurt.  Take your motrin when the nurses bring it to you.  Trust me, you'll feel better if you do.  Plus a warm shower is a wonderful thing.  Enjoy it while you can.  
• Expect that post partum bleeding is going to be really bad compared to your period.  Use the pads they give you at the hospital, they will bring you more and probably send you home with a surplus if you ask.
• You will sweat and probably smell really bad for a few days to a week after delivery.  Use baby powder.  It's wonderful.  :)
• You can't hold a newborn baby too much.  No matter what anyone says, you can't do it.  Hold that little one all the time if you want.  He or she won't be that small forever.  
• Breastfeeding is a very good thing if you can do it.  You might have a hard time with it at the hospital, but when you get home it might be easier.  If you need help, ask for it.  If you just find you can't do it, don't beat yourself up over it.  As long as the baby is fed, life is good.  
• Your baby is getting enough.  Trust me, he or she is getting plenty if he or she is growing.  But I counted wet and dirty diapers for two weeks.  Nothing wrong with that either.  
• If your baby wants to sleep in a swing for eight weeks, then go with it.  The point is the baby is asleep.  
• Sleeping when the baby sleeps isn't going to happen all the time.  That's okay.  Just realize that no one cares if your house is clean when they come over to bring food for you or ask if you need something.  We don't care if your clothes are clean or if you've had a shower.  But if you want us to stay long enough for you to shower or want us to help with laundry, then you just need to ask.  If you need newborn diapers that you forgot to get before the baby came, ask and you shall receive.
• Secondhand clothes are awesome.  They are softer, worn in the right places, and practically brand new in some cases.  If they are stained or torn, throw them out.  Otherwise, don't worry about it.  Clothes are clothes at this point and there's no way your child will wear them all.
• While being happy that your child is making every milestone, don't forget to enjoy every day with him or her.  It really does go by too fast.  Before you know it, you'll be blowing out that first birthday candle and wondering where your baby went.  
• Speaking of birthdays, you don't need to throw a fancy party.  Have whatever party you want or don't have one at all.  Whatever you decide will be right.  
• Be prepared for your relationship with your spouse to suffer a little bit.  My husband equated the first year of parenting our first one with the first year of our marriage.  Both weren't very good as we had to feel our way around and get to know each other.  The second year gets better.  We don't know about the third one yet or what happens when another child is thrown in the mix.  Just be prepared.
• And while we're talking about your spouse, yes sex will feel the same again eventually.  Be prepared for pain the first few times and please, don't have sex for the first six weeks.  I didn't listen to my doctor and it wasn't what I hoped it would be.  But it does get better so don't give up.  

Happy Mother's Day!

Taking Away The Paci

I have entirely too many pictures like this.  While 2.0 is adorable and sweet and cute and all the other adjectives you can think of, there's one thing about this picture that irritates me.

The Paci.

Bink, Nuk, whatever you call it.  It's so cute when kids are little and I'm not one of those moms who think that a pacifier is a bad thing.  I think sucking on the thumb is a bad thing and if this keeps him from doing that, well more power to the paci.  Plus, it gives Mom a chance to make a statement.  This picture has the camo paci, which is in homage to 2.0's godfather, grandfather, and great grandfather who all served in the military.

This paci is retro chic.

The paci helps 2.0 soothe himself and go to sleep or calm down when he's mad.  It helps him fall asleep (no matter where he is) and quiets him when he's being loud in places where he shouldn't be loud (like the library).

2.0 started walking fairly ahead of schedule for boys, but he doesn't talk much.  He says 'dada' all the time.  It's his favorite word I think.  He says 'mama' a lot too.  He also says 'yeah' and 'yup' sometimes.  But that's it.  The pediatrician isn't worried, but I sure am.

So this week, I decided to take away the paci except at nap times and bedtime.  The rest of the day, 2.0 has to learn to deal without it.  When he smashed his fingers in the door this morning, I gave it back to him, but otherwise he hasn't had it.  I'm happy to say that he's done rather well.

Those are giraffes?!

He's babbling more than he was before.  He's trying to form words and repeat what I'm saying (which means I have to watch what I say so I don't have bad words repeated in the nursery at church).  The biggest pay off has been watching him smile more.  I get to see more expressions like the one in the picture to the left there.

2.0 came down with a little bit of the croup too this week, so he was crabby and cranky and otherwise acting like a man when he's sick.  But we stuck through it and didn't give in to the paci temptation.  So far, so good.
And you'd be surprised how many pacis this kid has.  I found seven behind or underneath his crib.  It's ridiculous.

Mean Girls: 'Grown Up' Style

I've been debating whether this subject really falls under the scope of parenting.  I've started writing this post and then deleted it, only to start writing it again and deleting it.  But I think that this is a parenting issue because of the legacy we leave behind for our kids.  I don't know about you, but I want to leave a legacy that speaks of kindness and caring, humility and grace.  I don't want my kids and grandkids to talk about me as a spiteful, hateful, mean woman who sucked all the joy out of living from those around me.

So it is with this in mind that I say the following to the hateful, spiteful, immature parents out there in the world: GROW UP.

There are entirely too many moms out there tearing other moms apart over stupid things that mean absolutely nothing.  There are too many women getting their noses out of joint over issues that they aren't even involved in, then proceeding to rip completely innocent parties to shreds because of supposed 'issues' they weren't even a part of.  There are too many fathers yelling at coaches and other kids on baseball or soccer teams and acting like morons.  Some parents are even killing other parents over supposed wrongs in the parking lots of our children's sports arenas.

Did we not learn two simple truths?  Treat others as we want to be treated.  That's so simple it's stupid to violate it.  I don't want to be treated badly, so I treat others with as much respect and kindness as I can.  Now, do I get upset in traffic?  Sure.  I'm not perfect and I never claimed to be.  But at least I try.  Some people in this world don't bother to try.

The other simple truth is if you don't have something nice to say then you need to keep your mouth shut.  Back biting snide remarks don't need to be placed on the internet or sent in a text message or even uttered or typed at all.  Better to let others think you're a fool than to put your fingers on a keyboard and prove them right.  The only person you're hurting with your poor remarks is yourself.  Trust me, I know this from experience.

Our kids learn from us.  That should not be a big surprise.  Your child looks at you and how you treat another person and thinks "Hmm, I want to be like Mom (or Dad) and since they treat that person like this, I guess I can too".  Welcome to stupid lawsuits over hot coffee not being labelled as hot and the twinkie defense.  Welcome to PMS becoming a viable explanation for poor behavior (I do it now, but that doesn't make it right) and having a 'bad temper' as a disability you can receive SSI for.  Welcome to laziness and every unhappiness being someone else's fault.

Wait...we live there now.

And when this post makes you mad, which prompts you to send me an ugly email or leave a nasty comment, realize that you should treat others as you want to be treated and if you can't say something nice, then you need to keep your darned mouth shut.

It's better for you and your kid if you do.