Thoughts
Mr. Mom
I love my husband. I know I’ve said that before, but it’s worth saying a thousand times over. He is a remarkable companion and a remarkable dad.
Colin has been home doing my job for the last 4 weeks, only it’s much harder because he’s flying solo. I can’t really do much of anything to help. He’s there, everyday, in the trenches working hard to care for the kids and for me.
As any stay-at-home parent could tell you, the job is rigorous. It’s exhausting and physically intense, especially when you have three in diapers. It’s managing schedules, and cleaning, and preparing food, and endless driving, and resisting the monotony, and thinking beyond yourself. But Colin stepped right in and took it all up like he’s not used to sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day. And he did it almost without complaint. Almost.
He’s also found the joyful aspect of the job, too. The funny, creative, rough and tumble, curious, adventurous, nurturing side of the everyday tasks, as well. He’s playful with the kids and finds ways to make them laugh. He gets in there and colors with them. He let’s them climb all over him. Not that he didn’t do all these things before. It’s just now he gets to do it all day long. It’s been good for me to observe, reminding me to find balance throughout the day. Sometimes I let the aforementioned chores bog me down. I appreciate his approach.
But let’s not be fooled by the title of this post. This is a dad we’re talking about. Let’s put the manliness back in the role with some stats from the last few weeks:
- 11 poopy diapers changed in one day
- 1 kid out of diapers (Possibly, maybe for good? Post to follow.)
- 9 wrestling matches of 4 on 1
- 8 trips to Costco with all four kids
- 15 school lunches prepared (always the worst part of my day)
- 3 times starting the day with all children awake before 6:15AM
- 100 times feeding twins by himself (3 meals and 2 snacks a day)
I’m going to be sad to see him go back to the office at the end of my recovery. Not just because I’ve appreciated all his hard work (which I have immensely) and will be longing for his daily help (which I definitely will), but because I will just plain miss having him around.
Post-Op Notes
- Prior to surgery, I was told I wouldn’t be able to lift anything over 20 pounds for the entire 6 weeks. That was every one of my four children. What was I going to do? Colin starting saving vacation days as soon as we thought surgery might be a possibility. He saved so much that he is able to be home for the majority of my recovery. What an incredible blessing.
- Jared and Laura volunteered (how amazing are they??) to come all the way out from Boston and help for the first week and a half. We could not have survived without them. They did everything and were so gracious. Plus our kids got some cousin time, which was invaluable.
- It has been ridiculously hard to just sit and watch life roll by. The chaos of my household wails on while my butt is planted on our comfortable but ugly couch. I know it’s what I need to do to heal, but that doesn’t make it any easier. But I’ve read a few really good books and caught up on this blog, so I guess there’s something to be said for being relieved of everyday duties.
- Not being able to hold my kids is just sad. Maddie asks me everyday if I’m all better yet. I try to hold them in an awkward lean, their feet on the cushion next to me as their arms wrap around my neck. I miss snuggling them on my lap.
- Friends from church stepped in and have provided huge support. Dinners, rides for Warren to and from school, picking up Maddie for a fun outing during the day, letting Warren come over to play for a few hours…. the list of people and the service rendered is too long to name here. I am overwhelmed with gratitude. A special thanks to Lyndsi for arranging most of it.
- I’m so grateful for family and friends who have expressed their love and well-wishes over the past few weeks. Their support has really strengthened me. I haven’t had too many moments of feeling down, but when they’ve come I’ve leaned on these people that I know care deeply. It’s meant the world.
Endometriosis, Ovarian Cysts, and Other Fun Adventures in Gynecology
{Warning: this is a post that may make some (i.e. male readers) feel a bit uncomfortable. I try not to give too much information, but if talk of “woman times” or “lady parts” scares you at all, you may want to skip this one.}
When I was 21 years old, I stood in the parking lot of a movie theater and cried in a huddle with my two best girl friends from high school. I had just learned that I had endometriosis. For those of you not familiar with this lovely disease, it means the endometrial tissue from the uterus (similar to what is normally shed through menstruation) spreads through the pelvic cavity and attaches itself to various parts of the body. Though the affects of the disease vary from woman to woman, I was told to expect complications in becoming pregnant and possible infertility. Coupled with the excruciating pain of my first ovarian cyst (which led to the discovery of this diagnosis), it was a tough blow.
After a few months of processing and grieving, I went forward with the knowledge that my road to motherhood would be unpredictable, as would my experience with pain.
Fast forward 15 years later. Indeed, I found that I was infertile, though it hadn’t stopped me from becoming a mother to four beautiful children thanks to the blessings of adoption. After 8 years of marriage, we actually did see a specialist who confirmed that it would take a miracle (even with $20,000 a pop in vitro fertilization) to make infertility treatments work so we said no thank you. He also told me that, at my age, my eggs were old anyway, but I digress. Despite this, one of the sweetest memories of that consultation visit was my little Warren asking if the doctor had fixed me so that I could have babies. Life’s mysteries too hard for a toddler (and sometimes adults) to grasp. But I was at peace knowing that I would never get pregnant.
Ultimately, it wasn’t the infertility that was the most problematic part of this disease. It was the pain.
Last November, I started really hurting. After all these years of riding the roller coaster of pain, sometimes tolerable, sometimes debilitating, I was used to discomfort. But these recent experiences told me I was beyond the typical aggravated cramping associated with gnarly endometriosis periods. I was in full-blown pain. It was so severe that, when it came, I couldn’t even continue the task I was on but had to double over and wait for the sharp, stabbing sensation to go away. Worst of all, it was sporadic so I never knew when it was going to hit. Something bad was going on. And I hated the idea of dealing with it.
But I was good and went in to visit my specialist gynecologist only after a couple of months of this– better than my usual track record. After some testing, which included an ultrasound requiring a completely and painfully full bladder (I wasn’t sure if I would make it to the exam room without wetting the waiting room carpet, it was so horrible), the results indicated that I had another endometrioma (ovarian cyst) on my right ovary. The trouble was the excruciating pain was on my left side.
That meant the endometrial tissue had most likely attached itself to other unsavory parts, probably my intestines. Time to form a plan of action.
Dr. “Old Eggs” and I had history and I trusted his straightforward, if blunt, recommendations. He laid it out this way. I had two options: 1) continual birth control for years and years (most likely until menopause) to suppress my period, reducing symptoms and possibly shrinking the cyst, or 2) a hysterectomy. His reasoning was that just removing the cyst was like slapping a band-aid on the problem. I would only grow more cysts. Taking the hormones would be the first and least invasive step we should take. Undergoing a hysterectomy would be the last resort, but what I would eventually have to face.
I agreed, even though my past experiences with birth control left me feeling like a witch on her broom at best thanks to the highs and lows of increased estrogen. What did I have to lose?
I tried this for 8 months. It helped alright. The pain was less intense and less frequent, but it was still there. I still felt the impact on my life. Like wanting to accomplish things but never really feeling good enough to try. I felt like I was just limping along each day. It’s hardly the way you want to live, especially with four small children.
Finally, after much research and fasting and prayer, I decided that I didn’t want to put off the inevitable any longer. I decided to have the hysterectomy. It wouldn’t necessarily cure the problem, but it would help more than any option I had.
On January 3rd, I checked into the hospital at 5AM and underwent the 2 hour surgery. I’m 4 weeks into my 6 week recovery and doing fine. It’s still painful to sneeze and I don’t move around very well yet, but each day is better. I can’t lift anything over 20 lbs. for the entire recovery, so that’s made accepting help from others absolutely necessary. It’s been humbling all around.
There were moments before my surgery when I would freak out wondering how my body would react. Would it end my pain? Would he need to remove both ovaries? Would I need hormone replacement therapy? Would taking that put me back on my broom? But I had to remember that I had received a comforting answer through prayer. It would be alright. I had to trust in that and go forward.
He did remove both my ovaries after all. It was a game-day decision that became obvious was necessary after finding that both of them were covered in cysts and tissue, not to mention the muscles of my uterus were also lined with the stuff. The part that touches my bladder and colon were also affected. “No wonder you’re in pain,” confirmed Dr. “Old Eggs” who was also the surgeon. It was a relief to get it out.
So far, so good on the progesterone replacement. No hot flashes, like he expected. I feel good, overall. Now I just need to get over this surgery pain.
What a journey. I’m glad it’s over, or at least so it appears at this point. It’s certainly not the road I ever thought I’d be on, but it’s been enlightening, nonetheless. I feel blessed for the guidance I received in making this decision. And I’m grateful for modern medicine that can alleviate my pain.
Spending Fast: February 2012
You may remember me mentioning my friend, Cami, and her amazing thrifty and frugal ways. Every year (for the past 3) she’s committed herself to a spending fast challenge for one month out of the year. And every year I say, “Wow, you’re awesome! Good for you! I’ll be rooting for you!” without ever accepting her invitation to join in.
This is the year that I am going to give it a go. I don’t shop excessively, but I know I can improve in many ways. This is just the challenge that I need.
Here are her rules for the month:
“You don’t buy anything for the month of February. Okay, there are a few exceptions. You can pay your rent and other bills and you can buy gas. You can also buy food, but you should limit and stretch in this area. For my family of three I spend $50 a week during the Spending Fast. You can choose what works for your family. Also, no eating out.”
Doable? I think so! *gulp*
She’s also planned a giveaway this year, as incentive for participating. She makes some pretty fantastic stuff, so I would definitely leave a comment on her blog, if you’re interested in joining in on the frugal fun.
Alright, who’s up for the challenge? Leave a comment and let me know if you’re in!
The Coat
Back in December, we came across this video on the church website. It’s a beautiful, wordless cartoon depiction of an act of charity, taken from the life of the prophet Heber J. Grant. Maddie cannot get enough of watching it:
She asks to see it often. As soon as we pull it up she shouts, “Big one! Big one! Full screen!” because the default small version just isn’t enough for her.
Even though we’ve seen at least 20 times, I still tear up at the end.
Soccer Parties and High Fevers
The end of the soccer season meant time for an award ceremony and pizza party. I was responsible for bringing the cupcakes and Colin, being the coach, was responsible for handing out the trophies and certificates.
We had just returned home from an overnight temple trip. Maddie had woken us up in the middle of the night with an almost fever. Colin had to go driving around Westwood for an open pharmacy to get Tylenol. Of course we hadn’t brought any. By the time we reached our house late Saturday morning, she was going downhill fast.
Our options did not look good. Maddie was clearly sick and would most likely need to go to the ER to monitor her fever and yet we had this soccer party obligation. I was frosting cupcakes while she appeared to be getting worse. Colin was printing out award certificates while she was passed out on the couch. It was one of those situations where we wondered what the heck we were doing.
It was ridiculous. I hated knowing that we both had to do this party even though we weren’t sure how Maddie’s sickness would play out. It’s not like we could even split the duties since we only have one car. Either we were both going to the pizza joint or we both weren’t. It felt like a hopeless situation.
We went forward with our plans, praying that she’d get better and that her fever would break completely. We went to the party, ate our pizza, clapped for the soccer players, finished our cupcakes, and headed home.
{Warren received the “Bulldozer Award,” so dubbed for his ability to plow through many players and still keep going. He had a better season than last. All the same, it was good that it came to an end.}
{My green grass frosting and soccer ball cupcake toppers were well received, even though I learned too late that putting the finished product in the cupcake carrier smashes the topper down into the frosting. Note to self: place the topper in the cupcake after transport.}
She was doing alright but we wondered what would come. When we got home, we called our Home Teacher and asked that he’d stop by and help give Maddie a blessing of healing. Then we waited to see what would happen that night. We did not want to subject her to the emergency room testing procedures if we could help it.
We never had to take her to the hospital. She slept peacefully through the night. By morning, her fever had broken and she was feeling better. A call to her pediatrician the next day provided the antibiotics she needed to fully recover. I am so grateful for modern medicine and Priesthood blessings. She was spared the trauma of the emergency room testing, at least this time. I’ll take miracles whenever I can get them.
How the Marathon Passed Me By
Ten months ago I set the goal to run the Santa Barbara Marathon. That’s 26.2 miles, folks, that I was hoping to conquer. Those of you who know me and my history with the sport know it’s quite the leap from my last race completion. But running this distance became a “bucket list” item that I dreamed of completing, just because it is so difficult. I could have set my sights on the half marathon, to start, but why not just go for it, right?
A national organization dedicated to fundraising for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society called Team in Training caught my attention last spring, thanks to another parent in Warren’s kindergarten class, and inspired me to persue my goal. They train you completely and you collect donations for cancer research. It’s win-win in my book.
The Santa Barbara Marathon is perfect because not only do I live here, making it pretty easy to show up, but it’s also held on Saturday, unlike so many others which would require me to break the Sabbath to enter.
I was excited at the prospect of obtaining a goal that, 2 years ago even, I would have never had the guts to set. I told friends and family that I was going to do it. Everyone encouraged me and I felt like it was something within my grasp.
The race was yesterday and I did not run.
I didn’t even train. Because of some serious health issues (explanatory post to follow), I never felt up to running or really any exercise at all. For the last 7 months I have watched the calendar flip forward knowing that I would not be able to do what I said I was going to do.
And that’s the worst part. If I had never even mentioned it to anyone, I may have let it go and not felt like such a failure. But since I opened my mouth and told the world my plans, I felt like the girl who is all talk and no action. The one who says she’s going to do something and then just doesn’t.
That’s what I felt this past week each time I drove by the road signs reminding the community of the upcoming event. Just a big orange sign screaming at me that I did not complete what I said I’d do.
In the end I know it’s not my fault. I know I’m being a bit harsh. My health has taken the goal right out of my hands, at least for the time being. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s just my life circumstances at this moment. Hopefully, it won’t be forever. I want to believe I’ll try for it another time.
I had several friends that ran the marathon and half marathon yesterday, some for the first time. I thought about them many times throughout the morning, wondering how they were feeling and hoping they were completing the race they way they had planned. They all finished, and I couldn’t be happier for each one.
Way to go Rebecca, Esther, Nicole, Annie, and Cherry!! I wish I could have ran there with you. (Well, behind you, really, because I would have never been able to keep your pace!) But I was with you in spirit, I promise.
November is National Adoption Month
The month of November is set aside to celebrate adoption. I can’t think of a better time to contemplate the blessings of adoption than during this month of giving thanks. Families grow through this process. Many times, a child’s life is saved because of adoption. The benefits are endless.
Because of adoption, I have four beautiful children. It was not an easy road (especially with Jake and Joey since we’re still in the middle of the process) but I would do it all over again in an instant. I’m glad that our family grew this way. It has taught me more about sacrifice and love than I could have ever imagined.
So spread the word. Share your feelings about adoption with someone. How has it affected your life? Adoption can only flourish if people are made aware and kept informed. This website provides some concrete ways that you can make a difference.
Adoption is a miracle. It’s the greatest blessing you can give a child in need of a home. A child in need of a family.
Happy That Moment
We made another trip down to Los Angeles to attend the temple and stay the night at the Temple Patron Apartments. Our kids seem to never tire of the “amenities” the building has to offer: removable couch cushions for stacking and climbing on, deep closets for hiding in, a pull-out bed for creating a fort, plus the balcony with a sliding glass door. We’re glad they find the accommodations comfortable.
Usually, we bring a frozen pizza to cook in the oven of the apartment we’re renting but we decided to take a family outing to Pitfire Pizza for dinner instead. It was something I’d been craving.
It was 5PM and well before the dining rush hour, but the place was already busy. So busy that the entire stock of high chairs at the restaurant, which only totaled four anyway, were completely occupied. We scanned the room for a place to sit that would be easiest to hold Jake and Joe while we also tried to eat.
While Colin and I were debating the options, Warren and Maddie had parked themselves at one of those chic, extremely high tables with extremely high stools. Yes, stools with no backs and young children (read: Maddie) don’t seem like a good combination so we tried to nix the idea. But the table happened to be right next to the pizza making station (the kitchen is open for all to see) and they begged to stay put.
The situation seemed like a disaster in the making. Like the kind of experience where we’d swear off ever bringing our children to any dining establishment again until they were 18. No high chairs, so we’d have to hold the babies to feed them while simultaneously trying to use forks to shovel in our own food. No backing on the seats just begged for a 2-year-old, who doesn’t sit still in a regular chair to save her life, to fall right off on her head. Plus the culinary display was sure to distract my children from ever eating the gourmet pizza we were purchasing.
Colin was ready to regroup at another table. A booth. More sensible for a family of six, no? But their disappointment was so great, I told him whatever. I said just that, “Whatever,” in defeated irritation, sure that it was going to be awful. At least we would have Grilled Steak Salad, Pepperoni Pizza, Farfalle with Sausage and Greens, and their seasonal Pumpkin and Goat Cheese Pizza to get us through. We sat and I expected the worst.
But something incredible happened. Call it a miracle. Everything was just fine. No, more than that. Everything was easy. We held the boys and fed them bits of pasta and they didn’t even spit it out. Maddie sat so well on her stool, she didn’t even move an inch, plus she never stabbed anyone (read: Warren) with her adult-sized metal fork. Warren didn’t even whine once about anything.
And I just sat there and breathed it all in. My well-behaved kids, fascinated by the dough flipping in the air and the steady hands of the pizza makers. The autumn sunlight, dipping lower down until the ambiance lighting began to take over the room and the window shades were no longer needed. The cadent sounds of distant conversations and the muted tinkling of utensils scraping plates blending perfectly with the grooving music we couldn’t help but bop our heads a little to while hearing. Sharing the last fantastic bites of sausage with Colin as we finished our meal satisfied.
I smiled knowing that this was small. Just a blip on our family timeline. One dinner together in one pizza joint on one October evening. It was a moment that would pass quickly, but I was going to take notice and enjoy it for as long as I could. Because isn’t it those little things that we are to treasure up until one day we realize that they were the best things?
That’s what I thought, anyway, as I looked at my family at that moment. And I was happy.
Christy & Dave Visit
Some of our best friends from college decided to come down for a visit with their two darling girls. We were thrilled to spend some time together and to finally have them see our ‘hood. Plus it gave us the chance to meet one another’s new babies. Their youngest, Rina, and our Jake and Joey are just 6 days apart! If that doesn’t make them destined for arranged marriage life-long friendship than I don’t know what!
Christy and I talk regularly, so we’re usually up-to-date with each other’s lives, but there’s nothing like face-to-face conversation. I was grateful that we’d get a whole week to laugh together in person.
Unfortunately for them, coming in the middle of September meant our crazy fall schedule was in full swing. Despite the quick trip to Disneyland and California Adventure we took with them (separate post to follow), life couldn’t be put on hold for long. Though we would have loved to hang out with them more, Warren still had school, Colin still had work, and all our other normal activities and appointments kept us busy as usual. Mornings were the same chaos we always experience, company present or not.
But they made the most of the situation. While I went on business as usual, with napping babies and shuttle services to and from school and the like, Christy, Dave, Ani, and Rina set out to explore some of our fine town and the neighboring Solvang on their own. But we did to take them to Longboards for fish ‘n chips and spent one night gathered together celebrating Rina’s 1st birthday, complete with chocolate cake.
A few late night conversations provided some good quality time together.
We love these friends for many reasons and one of them is their flexibility and willingness to go with the flow. When we set out on adventures with them we know it’s going to be a good time. Plus they are just good people you want to be around.
Everyone should have a friend like Christy. I feel bad for those of you who don’t know her. She laughs easily and knows just what to say to cheer you up when needed. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s always able to look on the bright side and put a positive spin on something that would otherwise seem like a disaster. She is so considerate and thoughtful and goes out of her way to make amazing things or do something special to let you know she cares. She is the one you call when you want the straight answer. She doesn’t beat around the bush but tells you the truth. I love that about her. She analyzes things in wisdom and generates so many good ideas it’s hard to keep track of them all. She is someone I know I can call when I need support right away or when I’m crying at the airport while waiting for my flight to an undesired destination because the stress of the situation is too much to bear. She tells me things are going to be just fine and I believe her. I am so thankful that we met at college and the Institute all those years ago. My life is brighter because I have Christy as my friend.
Thanks for taking the time, money, and energy to come down here for a visit, friends! We loved the chance to reunite, even if it was kind of a wild time.
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