Tomorrow's the day! Hubby retires! I am so excited and so scared at the same time. Will we get along? Will we end up wanting to wring each other's necks? Will we fall deeper in love or just further into friendship? Will I be able to deal with him around every day? This new chapter deserves to be started with a prayer.....
Lord, you are the center of this marriage. You have brought us safely to this chapter in our lives and I know that You continue to have a plan for us. Help us to walk softly with each other and to uplift and encourage each other. Help us to not try to put forth our own agendas but to develop an agenda that fits the both of us. Help us to be smart about our finances. Help us to not be stingy with each other. Lord, please help me to be the person Hubby needs me to be. Help us to balance our lives so that we both feel free to be ourselves. Lord, I love this man you gave to me 30 years ago and I pray that You will grow that love as we walk forward into our future.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
Heading into the future..........
About a month before my 56th birthday. Hubby will retire soon after. What a new beginning to our lives. I became an instant mother when we were married almost 30 years ago. I still had a 12 and 10 year old at home when I became a grandmother at 40. Now it will be the two of us. Alone. For the first time. Every day. Excited? Yes. Scared? Definitely! Will we bore each other? Will I resent having to mesh "my" time with his? I love this man more than my life and I honestly don't know the answer to those questions, or the many more questions that I have. I do know that I will put 100% of myself into this new chapter and will take the good with the bad. The chances of this time being short are very high so I want to make the best of every single moment.
And I will record those moments here because my goal is to remember.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Mothers Day...
Today is Mothers Day so I guess a reflection of my worth as a mom wouldn't be out of place. In short...I didn't do it very well. I spent too much time in trying to get them to the next level that I didn't always enjoy where they were. I spent too much time in anger. Too much time in despair and chemical imbalances. All that being said.........I love where I am at with my boys. The love between mother and son can not be explained....it just is. They don't dwell on the mistakes, they truly love me and for that I am grateful.
And I am grateful for the women they have married who are wonderful moms.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
The Road Not Taken...
I came across a FB page of an old friend. This friendship began with working with her husband at a Christian organization. I just graduated from High School, vulnerable, scared, scarred and entering the workforce. He, married to a beautiful, quiet, sweet B.
His love for the Lord was overwhelming. It spilled out of him. He cared about everybody and everybody cared for him. I think he took me on as a project. Me, mouse like and unsure. He would give me notes with scripture written on them. Bring me a flower for my desk. Invite me and my roommates for dinner. Those meetings spread to creating a Bible Study in their home. (We studied the book of Romans...still my favorite book of the Bible.) Our group became a pretty tight circle of about 8-10 people. We would eat lunch together, go on trips, visit each others apartments. Still...he was special to me. (See....I know what you're thinking and that is why I get angry....it wasn't like that....I looked to him as a mentor, encourager. He was funny. I loved his wife, too!) We still would meet in his office off a very noisy hallway...so he'd close the door. Behind that door was an open Bible and deep discussion. We discussed forgiveness and judgement. What Christ-like love was supposed to look like. Many, many things. Always above board and without reproach. Occasionally we'd go for a drive off property. Always innocent. I didn't know how to be any other way.
These friendships went on like this for over two years. I was in a safe place. I had friends and a social life that was amazing. I was growing leaps and bounds in my spiritual life as well as my personal life. I fell in love with E. I became an open, happy, giggly, well-liked, well-cared for.....did I say HAPPY person!
Then one day things changed. I was being excluded. Brushed off. I sensed anger in my friends. I didn't have a clue what was going on. He avoided me. I cornered him....outside. He told my that his wife had asked him to back away from me. That she felt our friendship was something more. I was shocked. How could she think that? It was never more for me. She was just as important to me as he was. In fact if truth be told, I wanted to be her. (No, not to replace her....she was so pretty, always sweet, loving and I wanted to be those things.)
I talked to her...cried. Told her that I would never want to do anything to appear in any way to upset her or their marriage. They were important to me! Things seemed to be mended, they had their first baby and I even was their trusted babysitter. I moved away and they came through and stopped to say hi. Both B and baby were sick so they ended up staying in my apartment for 3 days while I camped at my parents (foster) house. They were moving to WA.
Letters, then cards, then Christmas notes, then nothing. Nothing. I didn't even know they'd had another daughter.
Ok...yes I was naive. I had come from such abuse and because of that was totally unprepared for the social interactions that I encountered. I never learned to question. I accepted things at face value. I believed that black was black and white was white. Now I know that if my husband were meeting a 18 year old single girl in quiet places, in closed offices, sending her notes and buying her gifts...I would say WHOA! I see how it looked and am stunned by my innocence. (This blog is anonymous so I have no need to lie or sugarcoat).
35 years gone by. I found their 2nd daughter on FB several years ago and we have been friends ever since. I don't think she even knows who I am but I can keep up with their lives thru her....I guess I could be considered a stalker. Then her mom posted and I discovered her FB page. That is what got me to thinking about all of this.
How did I get here......HERE? It hurt me to the core. I made decisions based on that hurt. I am still hurt.
The road not taken....what if I'd encouraged him....where would it have gone? (Although I know I didn't even know HOW to do that! Really....I was that ignorant!) What if B hadn't assumed the worse? What if we'd had the friendship over these 35 years that I always wanted. What if my friends had stood by me instead of them?
I have the most wonderful loving husband. I have 3 sons and 11 grandchildren. (see I edited that, too.) I have made and lost many friendships. I have been brought to my knees in the depths of despair and to the highest heights of love and laughter. I am stronger and kinder. I am who I am....not only because of the road I took to get to this place....but the roads I didn't take....whether by choice or roadblock.
Other roads I didn't take....Ira, Eric, Kathy, Randy, Randall, Bob....and even some others that I am not reminded of. It is very interesting to wander around in my head and wonder....."What if?" but I guess the better question would be "Why?" I don't need to know. I just need to know that God put me here and HERE is a wonderful place to be.
I am a woman with faults. I am cracked and broken and some things are beyond repair. I am closer to seeing Jesus in person than I think I am ready for. I long to please everybody. I want to fix everybody. I am unable to do either. I am going to just be. Maybe there will be energy to fight in the future for what I "think" is supposed to be....but for now.....I will just be me.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Freedom
12 more days come and gone. The relief I feel is so refreshing. It may be storming outside but I feel like the cloud over my head this past year has lifted. And the interesting thing is that big brother has assumed the responsibility for him. He's doing it a lot smarter than I did....maybe he would have sooner if I'd relinquished control. I am a broken person who is no longer trying to fix other broken people. I am going to learn to have fun again. I am going to say no more often. I am also going to say yes more often!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Well it's been 12 days since the earth shattering event that has had me going to the extreme of shunning my son.
When I met my husband he had two sons, 2 & 5 years old. In our marriage vows I promised to love them as if they were my very own. Together we had 2 more sons. At the ages of 7 & 9 a judge decided that he would split these brothers and give the oldest to us and the youngest to his ex. We begged the ex to not allow this to happen. We couldn't give up the oldest because he absolutely refused to live with her. So that's how it went until adulthood. With us every other weekend and with her the other. Even then we planned all family events as a family of six. Always waited until we were all together to celebrate. I consciously made sure that as much as it was in my power to treat them all as equals. This blending of families was hard...with so much craziness from the ex.
In my quest for answers I think I found one. My #2 son has "Narcissistic Personality Disorder". It explains so much. Everyone I have discussed this with is also in agreement. Unfortunately there is no cure and the sad thing is that even if there was he wouldn't agree to it be cause the narcissist isn't capable of recognizing his need for help. He is absolutely convinced that the problem is always someone else. And in this specific case the fault is always me.
For years I have tried to talk to him. I am an explainer. I like to know how/why/when things happened. I like to make others understand to. So I have talked myself blue in the face to him in an effort to get him to understand reasons for my actions. So have his dad and his brothers. Now I get he can't understand. He is broken. And he has broken me. No amount of LOVE will change him. And I can't deal with it any longer.
I struggle with my own demons of depression. As unfair as it is I have found medications that allow me to function "almost" normal. But these constant attacks on me from him have left me weary and fragile. As I get older I lack the ability to shake it off.
Last time I said I Hated him. Do I still feel that way? No. I feel sad and angry at what caused him to be who he is. I am sorry for him that he will never know real happiness or contentment. I grieve for his children. Can I say I love him? No....not yet.
When I met my husband he had two sons, 2 & 5 years old. In our marriage vows I promised to love them as if they were my very own. Together we had 2 more sons. At the ages of 7 & 9 a judge decided that he would split these brothers and give the oldest to us and the youngest to his ex. We begged the ex to not allow this to happen. We couldn't give up the oldest because he absolutely refused to live with her. So that's how it went until adulthood. With us every other weekend and with her the other. Even then we planned all family events as a family of six. Always waited until we were all together to celebrate. I consciously made sure that as much as it was in my power to treat them all as equals. This blending of families was hard...with so much craziness from the ex.
In my quest for answers I think I found one. My #2 son has "Narcissistic Personality Disorder". It explains so much. Everyone I have discussed this with is also in agreement. Unfortunately there is no cure and the sad thing is that even if there was he wouldn't agree to it be cause the narcissist isn't capable of recognizing his need for help. He is absolutely convinced that the problem is always someone else. And in this specific case the fault is always me.
For years I have tried to talk to him. I am an explainer. I like to know how/why/when things happened. I like to make others understand to. So I have talked myself blue in the face to him in an effort to get him to understand reasons for my actions. So have his dad and his brothers. Now I get he can't understand. He is broken. And he has broken me. No amount of LOVE will change him. And I can't deal with it any longer.
I struggle with my own demons of depression. As unfair as it is I have found medications that allow me to function "almost" normal. But these constant attacks on me from him have left me weary and fragile. As I get older I lack the ability to shake it off.
Last time I said I Hated him. Do I still feel that way? No. I feel sad and angry at what caused him to be who he is. I am sorry for him that he will never know real happiness or contentment. I grieve for his children. Can I say I love him? No....not yet.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Broken
I guess it doesn't really matter who is broken...me or him...either way it is beyond being able to be fixed. "All the King's soldiers and all the King's men could not put it back together again."
Hate. I said it 100 times last night. HATE! I HATE him! This blog is supposed to be about choosing to love...choosing to LOVE! I can't. Is there a time limit on love? Is there a point at which it is no longer worth it? Does it at some point need to be reciprocated?
Toxic...that's what we are. I can't do this anymore. He sucks the life out of me without even a care. He is selfish. He feels entitled. He is devoid of empathy or sympathy. He is a vortex that can only suck in all that is good, kind, sweet and lovable and expels nothing!
I am once again asking my husband to choose between me or him. What kind of person does that make me? Where does that leave our relationship? Certainly not better. We inflict so much pain on each other. I need him to choose me. I know he will choose me. I am secretly happy that he will choose me and that it will inflict pain on the one I hate.
Ultimately that is what I want......I want him to feel the pain that he has caused me over the last 30 years. And the sad thing is I know he never will. He is incapable. He is broken. And he has broken me.
He was my son.
Hate. I said it 100 times last night. HATE! I HATE him! This blog is supposed to be about choosing to love...choosing to LOVE! I can't. Is there a time limit on love? Is there a point at which it is no longer worth it? Does it at some point need to be reciprocated?
Toxic...that's what we are. I can't do this anymore. He sucks the life out of me without even a care. He is selfish. He feels entitled. He is devoid of empathy or sympathy. He is a vortex that can only suck in all that is good, kind, sweet and lovable and expels nothing!
I am once again asking my husband to choose between me or him. What kind of person does that make me? Where does that leave our relationship? Certainly not better. We inflict so much pain on each other. I need him to choose me. I know he will choose me. I am secretly happy that he will choose me and that it will inflict pain on the one I hate.
Ultimately that is what I want......I want him to feel the pain that he has caused me over the last 30 years. And the sad thing is I know he never will. He is incapable. He is broken. And he has broken me.
He was my son.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
When it rains....it pours!
I guess it's true...disasters happen in 3's! First my pantry, then my water heater and today......
Huge rainstorm this morning. Hubby went into my scrapbook room to look for something and noticed a huge puddle on the floor. Roof leaked and damaged my 5' tall tower of Bazzill paper! Also ruined all my new Basic Grey Christmas paper and my bucket of scrap paper. A couple of feet the wrong way the leak would have been directly over the closet where I store all my photos in. I am considering investing in waterproof boxes now! Poor Hubby spent most of the day fixing the roof and ceiling....but we are going to have to call a roofer to see what needs to be done. Now he's back at work on finishing my pantry cabinet
Still have several cabinets to Spring Clean and now I am wondering what surprises they have in store for me!
Huge rainstorm this morning. Hubby went into my scrapbook room to look for something and noticed a huge puddle on the floor. Roof leaked and damaged my 5' tall tower of Bazzill paper! Also ruined all my new Basic Grey Christmas paper and my bucket of scrap paper. A couple of feet the wrong way the leak would have been directly over the closet where I store all my photos in. I am considering investing in waterproof boxes now! Poor Hubby spent most of the day fixing the roof and ceiling....but we are going to have to call a roofer to see what needs to be done. Now he's back at work on finishing my pantry cabinet
Still have several cabinets to Spring Clean and now I am wondering what surprises they have in store for me!
Friday, March 16, 2012
Spring Cleaning
OMGosh! 2004! That was the last time I THOROUGHLY cleaned my pantry!!!!! Thing is....it didn't make my life any easier....it made it far more complicated than I could imagine!
In the back of the pantry were very old cans that had swelled and leaked. (Ewwww). Which also warped the shelf. So after cleaning everything I asked the Hubby to please rebuild just that one shelf. No...he's going to rebuild the bottom one too. OK....but when he removes it there is yuckiness under it! The cabinet had actually started to disintegrate. At this time I was think that all the damage was from those damn exploded cans...but now he decided to rip out the whole cabinet. MOLD! Halfway up the two walls that the cabinet sits against.
Well my pantry cabinet happens to sit behind the same wall that my master bathroom tub sits. I guess for the last 19 years said tub has been leaking! And destroying my walls and cabinets. So a little 1 day project of cleaning out the pantry (I filled the whole trashcan!!!!) has become a major project to rebuild the whole thing.
So now all my food sits out in the open on the sideboard. Just at eye and hand level for all my grandkids.....Nana can I have......??????
I feel bad for all the expired food I had to throw out. I am never going to have so much food that it is forgotten again. I need to just buy for what I need this week and not stockpile. There are only two of us in this house (most of the time) and I don't need to keep buying as if I was feeding four male teenagers. That is a hard thing to reprogram yourself to do though!
Lot's of other cabinets cleaned....lots more to go. Then I get new countertops to go along with my new appliances, new paint and new floors. This 19 year old house is getting a facelift!!!
In the back of the pantry were very old cans that had swelled and leaked. (Ewwww). Which also warped the shelf. So after cleaning everything I asked the Hubby to please rebuild just that one shelf. No...he's going to rebuild the bottom one too. OK....but when he removes it there is yuckiness under it! The cabinet had actually started to disintegrate. At this time I was think that all the damage was from those damn exploded cans...but now he decided to rip out the whole cabinet. MOLD! Halfway up the two walls that the cabinet sits against.
Well my pantry cabinet happens to sit behind the same wall that my master bathroom tub sits. I guess for the last 19 years said tub has been leaking! And destroying my walls and cabinets. So a little 1 day project of cleaning out the pantry (I filled the whole trashcan!!!!) has become a major project to rebuild the whole thing.
So now all my food sits out in the open on the sideboard. Just at eye and hand level for all my grandkids.....Nana can I have......??????
I feel bad for all the expired food I had to throw out. I am never going to have so much food that it is forgotten again. I need to just buy for what I need this week and not stockpile. There are only two of us in this house (most of the time) and I don't need to keep buying as if I was feeding four male teenagers. That is a hard thing to reprogram yourself to do though!
Lot's of other cabinets cleaned....lots more to go. Then I get new countertops to go along with my new appliances, new paint and new floors. This 19 year old house is getting a facelift!!!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
My how time flies!
Last post about Christmas.....now it's February!
Spent New Years on a Jeep/RV trip in Death Valley. I do not love the desert. But I do have to agree that sometimes it does have a stark beauty that is hard to explain.
January seemed unstoppable....watching A 3 days a week....the airplane flying for the 1st time....S's birthday...new appliances...L hospitalized...5 days of chaos at the beach (vacation?)...end of year reports...taxes....
Now it's February and I am taking a breather...or trying to. I am going to go work in my scrapbook room and lose myself in a project...don't know which one....doesn't matter....I just need to create! Gonna make time for friends and spend time with my grandaughters. I am going to shop with my daughters-in-love.
I'll let you know how it goes!
Spent New Years on a Jeep/RV trip in Death Valley. I do not love the desert. But I do have to agree that sometimes it does have a stark beauty that is hard to explain.
January seemed unstoppable....watching A 3 days a week....the airplane flying for the 1st time....S's birthday...new appliances...L hospitalized...5 days of chaos at the beach (vacation?)...end of year reports...taxes....
Now it's February and I am taking a breather...or trying to. I am going to go work in my scrapbook room and lose myself in a project...don't know which one....doesn't matter....I just need to create! Gonna make time for friends and spend time with my grandaughters. I am going to shop with my daughters-in-love.
I'll let you know how it goes!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Follow Up on Christmas
Just to let you know that on Christmas Eve I had EVERY one of my kids, grandkids present. It was a beautiful day. I even got a photo of ALL of us. I am so blessed. My kids were on their best behavior. I know that they are all different personalities and maybe every single person isn't their favorite person...but they were kind, welcoming and fun. I am blessed! We will be spending a weekend together at the end of January at the beach and I can truly say I am looking forward to spending it with each one of them. I don't think I could have said that a month ago! God is good!
Dreams really do come true!
Eighteen years....the dream - for this phase to come to fruition. Actually the dream started even before I met my husband. His dream is/was/always has been is to fly. But even more than that. To fly a plane that he built from scratch. From nothing to a beautiful, amazing, wonderful flying machine. He started on the 1st one before I met him. Imagine me finding out that this man I was falling in love with was building an airplane in his garage! 30 years later this seems normal to me...but then? Crazy! Then for the next 5 or 6 years adding my blood, sweat and tears to the project. Yes...I could be a "Rosie the Riveter" because I definitely learned how and became very good at that. But we were still young, had very young children and definitely more bills at the end of each month than money. The plane was absolutely stunningly beautiful. It was a single seater so I never got to fly in it. We couldn't keep it. We couldn't afford the insurance/fuel/hanger fees. We sold it. Heartbreak. Started another one...sold it unfinished. Another one came to us partially built...a little more work...sold it too. Then in 1994 we started this one. It began as a partnership...where he provided the labor and the other provided the financing. Perfect? At first. But the partner wanted the plane done NOW and my husband doesn't do anything fast. He is a perfectionist. Years went by and the partnership soured. I could write a book on all the interruptions we had in the building. There were whole years where nothing got done. Life in all it's messiness interrupted time and time again. Kids, grandkids, parents, sickness, strains of marriage...all contributed. But...kids grow up. Children become adults and take care of their own. Parents die. Marriages are dissolved. Marriages are healed. A few years ago building began again in earnest. Our goal was to be done by June of last year. Considering all our other goals...we missed it by 6 months...not bad! The airplane flew on Saturday! Beautiful, shiny, perfect! And it's a two seater. Eventually I will be a passenger in this very special airplane. As well as my sons, my grandchildren and maybe even some of my daughter-in-laws. The memories that will be made are made for a lifetime. The joy on my husbands face is priceless. And because God is so good...we will keep this one. He has provided us with the means to be able to afford to keep this one. And I think I would sacrifice anything to be able to keep this one. And now that it's done...the dream of where to go and what to see...begins!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
It's Never Easy
Yeah, I had the conversation, thought it went well. Ended up blowing up Thanksgiving anyway. My fault mostly. Forgot I needed to talk to one more person. So I finally got all three of them together and made them talk. I watched their kids while they went to lunch. 6 of them....that was truly fun, too! Although I do not know anything past "it went better than expected" I have been assured that my Christmas Eve Party should go off without any hitches. So I am praying that between now and Christmas nothing will interfere. And if all goes as planned, I will have my whole family together on Christmas Eve for the first time in about 10 years. Yay! Can't wait. This is my true present.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Thank you, Jesus!
I had the conversation today. Went so well. I feel like we are heading in the right direction. I know that hurt feelings and ruffled feathers still need to be addressed....one step at a time. Keep praying!
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Time moves so fast....
I can't believe it's the middle of November now! My son has married....I have turned another year older....I have taken a dream vacation to Alaska....survived another fire season....developed deeper friendships....
But...nothing is ever perfect is it? We must grow through trials....be tested. When your family is as large as mine - and some would say as dysfunctional as mine....there is always some drama. Fortunately most of the drama until lately was directed at all of us....us defending our own....but lately it appears we've turned on each other....blaming...posturing....getting angry at each other....not for what someone has done to us....but out of loyalty to another and taking on the anger for them. It is so easy to see the splinter in someone else's eye...than to look at the log in our own eye. You know...the one that blinds us to our own faults. The one that somehow gives us amnesia regarding our own actions.
This must be dealt with. I must confront the one who believes he is right to carry his righteous anger. But also the one who could be held to the fire for his own actions...but won't be because forgiveness has been offered and absorbed. How easy it is to be forgiven by another....how difficult it is to forgive. Nobody can stand up to the light that has been directed at one particular family member....we must remember that if we were asked to stand in that same place...we too would come up lacking.
I hate that this Holiday Season has been marred by this. I hate the hurt and mistrust this has caused among us. I ask that you pray that, by the Grace of God, these things will be worked out before Christmas.
Love....we must always remember to come from a place of love....nothing else matters.
But...nothing is ever perfect is it? We must grow through trials....be tested. When your family is as large as mine - and some would say as dysfunctional as mine....there is always some drama. Fortunately most of the drama until lately was directed at all of us....us defending our own....but lately it appears we've turned on each other....blaming...posturing....getting angry at each other....not for what someone has done to us....but out of loyalty to another and taking on the anger for them. It is so easy to see the splinter in someone else's eye...than to look at the log in our own eye. You know...the one that blinds us to our own faults. The one that somehow gives us amnesia regarding our own actions.
This must be dealt with. I must confront the one who believes he is right to carry his righteous anger. But also the one who could be held to the fire for his own actions...but won't be because forgiveness has been offered and absorbed. How easy it is to be forgiven by another....how difficult it is to forgive. Nobody can stand up to the light that has been directed at one particular family member....we must remember that if we were asked to stand in that same place...we too would come up lacking.
I hate that this Holiday Season has been marred by this. I hate the hurt and mistrust this has caused among us. I ask that you pray that, by the Grace of God, these things will be worked out before Christmas.
Love....we must always remember to come from a place of love....nothing else matters.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Letting go........
That's the hardest thing. I thought that my "control" issues were behind me. And in a way they are. Replaced by desire to do the right thing in any circumstance. To love unconditionally. But (there is always a "but!") .....I do get frustrated when my good intentions and generosity are unappreciated. So that comes down to motive...if my motives are pure then appreciation isn't necessary. So the challenge is to offer what I have...no pretense...no manipulation...and let God handle the response. Letting go. I have to. For the health of my marriage and for myself. They are all grown children...all have children of their own. i have to let go.
Friday, May 6, 2011
My journey of pain and reality
So right now I feel pretty good. I've gotten in and out of my bed 3 times all by myself. I've made my own breakfast, taken a shower all by myself, started one load of laundry, folded another and got my pill organizer organized for the next 7 days. Oh and I went to 1/2 meds this morning for another trial run....hopefully this time it is successful.
One week ago today I went into what I thought would be a simple, although painful, laparoscopic surgery to repair a massive incisional hernia that I developed after having my gastric bypass 6 years ago. It was obvious to me how large an area he had to repair, but I guess I got my first inkling into the fact the the DR didn't understand, when he came into the pre-op. He asked the question as to whether or not I knew what procedure he was performing. I told him that he was going to fix all my hernias. He said, "All? How many do you have?" I told him that I had hundreds that had basically morphed into one or two massive bulges that stuck out at weird angles as well as at weird times. He lifted my gown and handed me a sharpie and asked me to mark the area where my surgery was to take place....then quickly grabbed it away when he saw I was gonna draw all over my abdomen. So he pushed on one part of my belly and asked if this is where it was....yes as well as here, here and here and over here, too. He asked me to sit up and cough and as I sat up my top hernia buldged out rather nicely as if it knew it wasn't gonna be able to play these games anymore....and the Dr's eyes bulged....but not as impressively. He tried to say some encouraging words as well as explain the extent of the surgery he would have to do. He said he would have to put in a rather large piece of mesh to cover the defects and that it might take longer because they have to roll it up really small and then put it in then use the instruments to unfurl it and get it laid out all nice and smooth and attach it to my abdominal wall with brads. Now the brads he had explained. He would have to put one about every 1/4 inch all around the outer perimiter of the mesh...then moved in about 1/2 way and do another whole circle. He said that it didn't make any difference in the pain of these brads whether or not he re-opened my whole incision or was able to complete the surgery laproscopically. He explained the 4 little holes I would have because of where he would have to insert the instruments. I also remember G asking him how he "knew" that the mesh was in place, etc. He stated that he had a few "tricks up his sleeve" to handle that He finished his little pep talk by assuring us that we'd be headed home the next day.
Skip to waking up and being moved into my room. Can I just say that the transfer from gurney to bed is never pleasant...at least it has never been for me. There are far too many people yelling at you to do far too many things...that you probably would have had a hard time accomplishing even if you hadn't had surgery....but the morphine/anesthesia fog only seems to empower those around you to scream and yell for you to do things that you know if you were in your right mind and body...would tend to get their teethed knocked out! (Just a suggestion....all these beds are on wheels and can be moved room to room....so why don't they move you to your slightly more comfortable hospital bed BEFORE they wake you up?????) I am aware of the fact that I am not in a private room and that I am making a terrible disturbance and feel embarrassed and really want to apologize but in reality all I can think is "Where is that morphine button?" Then I feel them lift my gown to inspect my abdomin (I am allergic to adhesive so no dressings) and starting counting....1..2..3..4..5.....6....oh here's another one....7....no let's count again.....8.....here's another one....9...10....11....12....TWELVE! Another recount. I can hear Gary's astonishment and references to looking like I'd been shot or stabbed over, and over, and over..............At some point....I know it is late at night or early morning...the nurses decided I need to get up and use the toilet. So they graciously help me up (insert scream here) and get me to the restroom which is totally on the other side of the room in my roomate's territory. Obviously she isn't asleep and I just hear this sweet voice telling me it will be all right....take my time....breathe.... I feel such relief that she isn't yelling at me to shut up ... and while I am dutifully trying to do my business...we exchange names. Her name is Maria. After a 45 minute attempt the nurses get me back to bed...scan my bladder and come up with the welcome/dreaded plan to insert a catheter. Welcome....because I know this means no more attempts to get me out of bed....dreaded because....well.....you know.....I have made sure that the morphine button is in my left hand (embedded) so as to not lose it through what is left of the night and fitfully go back to sleep.
Sometime mid-morning of Saturday my nurses (Kelly my cutest RN award winner and Christiana my cutest Nursing Student Award Winner - these two girls were such a wonderful team and so helpful and encouraging. I just loved them!) came in and removed the catheter and got me up several times to attempt the bathroom. I was in excruciating pain and at one point in the bathroom pulled my gown up to look at myself....HORROR! G was such an attentive care giver....always coming up with ways to make things easier...I LOVE how caring he becomes and he's such an advocate for me. We were both struck by how much more extensive the operation had been and how much more pain I was in than expected. He acknowledged what I already knew...there was NO way I was going home today....because there was no way I was letting my morphine button out of my reach! Kelly and Christina made the wonderful decision to re-catheratize me and just encouraged G to get me up every so often for laps around the ward. I went from 1 1/2 laps to 6 laps by Sunday. All met with cheers from Kelly and Christiana...have I mentioned I loved those two?
Of couse as we were going about the painful journey to get me to a place where I could even consider going home....we were getting to know my roomate a little better. The cutest little lady. Sad. Her husband of 30 some odd years had died 6 months before. She has two sons. One is in Afghanistan and the other is in Irag. She was in the hospital because she'd just had stomach surgery for stomach cancer. She was only left alone one time that I can remember....she seemed to have a wonderful list of people who loved her and showered her with flowers and stuffed toys....and stayed with her. It's funny how in the hospital we cheer for things that aren't even discussed between strangers outside of the hospital. Her goal given to her by her DR was to poop. I was trying to pee, she was trying to poo and we laughed and bonded over the silliness of it all.
The 2nd night in the hospital we watched the Nascar race together and then G left to go to the Hotel. I wasn't expected to get up all night...so the nurses just asked me to just try and not sleep on my back the whole night. G had asked me to try and not push the morphine button anymore than I absolutely had to. So I push the button....wiggle and worm my way very painfully onto my right side.....and crash....something had fallen....but it wasn't until about 1/2 hour later I realized it was my TV Remote/Nurse Call button. Because I desparetly wanted to move....I wanted my morphine button and I was in PAIN! It hurt my whole body just to try and reach my arms across my chest....I manuevered the bed a little with my elbow....but I was stuck. So I decided that I could handle this...that when they came in to check on Maria then I would just get their attention, too. The fact that the TV was stuck on some infomercial channel was the least of my worries....although some infomercials mixed with pain and morphine can be quite trying to get through =-) Well darn if Maria wasn't just as comfortable as can be for HOURS as well as her caregiver...I could hear her snoring. Finally, Maria woke up to use the toilet and I waited until she was done before I called out....please push your nurse button.....please.......I was so pitiful! But by the AM I was once again cheered on by G, Christiana and Kelly at how I'd managed to cut my morphine intake by 1/2 the previous night! Whoo Hooo....thanks to my not being able to reach it!!!!
Sunday arrived...morphine pump removed...to be replaced by highly caffienated diet coke. I figuered diet Coke makes me pee always....even to the point of almost not making it to the bathroom....and a few hours later.....success. After saying our goodbyes to Maria....to Kelly and Christina - whose last day as a nursing student was THAT DAY....a very painful attempt to get into the truck....Gary got me home in record time. Thankfully I slept through most of it.
I don't know which one of us went into this procedure with blinders on...me or the doctor....but now....1 week out....would I trade the pain and discomfort to not have been the receipient of Gary's tender, loving, patient care of me? To watch my children lovingly bring meals to us? To have my friend C babysit me this time? To set miniscule goals for myself and watch me reach them (or fail but know I would try again)? I don't know....because 1/2 pain meds is no picnic, getting in and out of bed was a lot easier with G helping everytime, seeing my bulges gone yet replaced by a mass of bruises and stab wounds is quite disconcerting even after a week of looking at them, missing my soon to be daughter-in-laws Bridal Shower because of my inability to recuperate fast enough....oh and knowing that to the depths of my innermost being that the long-awaited "tummy-tuck" will NEVER happen! We'll see.
Why did I write all this down? Probably because in my drug induced state I really believe that you will not read another thing today that is better written or more intriguing than my detailed account of my personal hell. Because in parts of it I really was trying to be funny. And there is nothing more interesting than reading other people's medical stories. Because my memory is such that all these details may be forgotten in the next day, hour, minute.......
Oh...and because I promised Maria I wouldn't forget. Not her....not her sons. We acknowledged we would probably never know the end of each other stories....but she made an impact on my life in 2 short days and I promised I would pray for her and her sons. Please join me in praying for this wonderful, sweet, simple, loving, grieving woman.
One week ago today I went into what I thought would be a simple, although painful, laparoscopic surgery to repair a massive incisional hernia that I developed after having my gastric bypass 6 years ago. It was obvious to me how large an area he had to repair, but I guess I got my first inkling into the fact the the DR didn't understand, when he came into the pre-op. He asked the question as to whether or not I knew what procedure he was performing. I told him that he was going to fix all my hernias. He said, "All? How many do you have?" I told him that I had hundreds that had basically morphed into one or two massive bulges that stuck out at weird angles as well as at weird times. He lifted my gown and handed me a sharpie and asked me to mark the area where my surgery was to take place....then quickly grabbed it away when he saw I was gonna draw all over my abdomen. So he pushed on one part of my belly and asked if this is where it was....yes as well as here, here and here and over here, too. He asked me to sit up and cough and as I sat up my top hernia buldged out rather nicely as if it knew it wasn't gonna be able to play these games anymore....and the Dr's eyes bulged....but not as impressively. He tried to say some encouraging words as well as explain the extent of the surgery he would have to do. He said he would have to put in a rather large piece of mesh to cover the defects and that it might take longer because they have to roll it up really small and then put it in then use the instruments to unfurl it and get it laid out all nice and smooth and attach it to my abdominal wall with brads. Now the brads he had explained. He would have to put one about every 1/4 inch all around the outer perimiter of the mesh...then moved in about 1/2 way and do another whole circle. He said that it didn't make any difference in the pain of these brads whether or not he re-opened my whole incision or was able to complete the surgery laproscopically. He explained the 4 little holes I would have because of where he would have to insert the instruments. I also remember G asking him how he "knew" that the mesh was in place, etc. He stated that he had a few "tricks up his sleeve" to handle that He finished his little pep talk by assuring us that we'd be headed home the next day.
Skip to waking up and being moved into my room. Can I just say that the transfer from gurney to bed is never pleasant...at least it has never been for me. There are far too many people yelling at you to do far too many things...that you probably would have had a hard time accomplishing even if you hadn't had surgery....but the morphine/anesthesia fog only seems to empower those around you to scream and yell for you to do things that you know if you were in your right mind and body...would tend to get their teethed knocked out! (Just a suggestion....all these beds are on wheels and can be moved room to room....so why don't they move you to your slightly more comfortable hospital bed BEFORE they wake you up?????) I am aware of the fact that I am not in a private room and that I am making a terrible disturbance and feel embarrassed and really want to apologize but in reality all I can think is "Where is that morphine button?" Then I feel them lift my gown to inspect my abdomin (I am allergic to adhesive so no dressings) and starting counting....1..2..3..4..5.....6....oh here's another one....7....no let's count again.....8.....here's another one....9...10....11....12....TWELVE! Another recount. I can hear Gary's astonishment and references to looking like I'd been shot or stabbed over, and over, and over..............At some point....I know it is late at night or early morning...the nurses decided I need to get up and use the toilet. So they graciously help me up (insert scream here) and get me to the restroom which is totally on the other side of the room in my roomate's territory. Obviously she isn't asleep and I just hear this sweet voice telling me it will be all right....take my time....breathe.... I feel such relief that she isn't yelling at me to shut up ... and while I am dutifully trying to do my business...we exchange names. Her name is Maria. After a 45 minute attempt the nurses get me back to bed...scan my bladder and come up with the welcome/dreaded plan to insert a catheter. Welcome....because I know this means no more attempts to get me out of bed....dreaded because....well.....you know.....I have made sure that the morphine button is in my left hand (embedded) so as to not lose it through what is left of the night and fitfully go back to sleep.
Sometime mid-morning of Saturday my nurses (Kelly my cutest RN award winner and Christiana my cutest Nursing Student Award Winner - these two girls were such a wonderful team and so helpful and encouraging. I just loved them!) came in and removed the catheter and got me up several times to attempt the bathroom. I was in excruciating pain and at one point in the bathroom pulled my gown up to look at myself....HORROR! G was such an attentive care giver....always coming up with ways to make things easier...I LOVE how caring he becomes and he's such an advocate for me. We were both struck by how much more extensive the operation had been and how much more pain I was in than expected. He acknowledged what I already knew...there was NO way I was going home today....because there was no way I was letting my morphine button out of my reach! Kelly and Christina made the wonderful decision to re-catheratize me and just encouraged G to get me up every so often for laps around the ward. I went from 1 1/2 laps to 6 laps by Sunday. All met with cheers from Kelly and Christiana...have I mentioned I loved those two?
Of couse as we were going about the painful journey to get me to a place where I could even consider going home....we were getting to know my roomate a little better. The cutest little lady. Sad. Her husband of 30 some odd years had died 6 months before. She has two sons. One is in Afghanistan and the other is in Irag. She was in the hospital because she'd just had stomach surgery for stomach cancer. She was only left alone one time that I can remember....she seemed to have a wonderful list of people who loved her and showered her with flowers and stuffed toys....and stayed with her. It's funny how in the hospital we cheer for things that aren't even discussed between strangers outside of the hospital. Her goal given to her by her DR was to poop. I was trying to pee, she was trying to poo and we laughed and bonded over the silliness of it all.
The 2nd night in the hospital we watched the Nascar race together and then G left to go to the Hotel. I wasn't expected to get up all night...so the nurses just asked me to just try and not sleep on my back the whole night. G had asked me to try and not push the morphine button anymore than I absolutely had to. So I push the button....wiggle and worm my way very painfully onto my right side.....and crash....something had fallen....but it wasn't until about 1/2 hour later I realized it was my TV Remote/Nurse Call button. Because I desparetly wanted to move....I wanted my morphine button and I was in PAIN! It hurt my whole body just to try and reach my arms across my chest....I manuevered the bed a little with my elbow....but I was stuck. So I decided that I could handle this...that when they came in to check on Maria then I would just get their attention, too. The fact that the TV was stuck on some infomercial channel was the least of my worries....although some infomercials mixed with pain and morphine can be quite trying to get through =-) Well darn if Maria wasn't just as comfortable as can be for HOURS as well as her caregiver...I could hear her snoring. Finally, Maria woke up to use the toilet and I waited until she was done before I called out....please push your nurse button.....please.......I was so pitiful! But by the AM I was once again cheered on by G, Christiana and Kelly at how I'd managed to cut my morphine intake by 1/2 the previous night! Whoo Hooo....thanks to my not being able to reach it!!!!
Sunday arrived...morphine pump removed...to be replaced by highly caffienated diet coke. I figuered diet Coke makes me pee always....even to the point of almost not making it to the bathroom....and a few hours later.....success. After saying our goodbyes to Maria....to Kelly and Christina - whose last day as a nursing student was THAT DAY....a very painful attempt to get into the truck....Gary got me home in record time. Thankfully I slept through most of it.
I don't know which one of us went into this procedure with blinders on...me or the doctor....but now....1 week out....would I trade the pain and discomfort to not have been the receipient of Gary's tender, loving, patient care of me? To watch my children lovingly bring meals to us? To have my friend C babysit me this time? To set miniscule goals for myself and watch me reach them (or fail but know I would try again)? I don't know....because 1/2 pain meds is no picnic, getting in and out of bed was a lot easier with G helping everytime, seeing my bulges gone yet replaced by a mass of bruises and stab wounds is quite disconcerting even after a week of looking at them, missing my soon to be daughter-in-laws Bridal Shower because of my inability to recuperate fast enough....oh and knowing that to the depths of my innermost being that the long-awaited "tummy-tuck" will NEVER happen! We'll see.
Why did I write all this down? Probably because in my drug induced state I really believe that you will not read another thing today that is better written or more intriguing than my detailed account of my personal hell. Because in parts of it I really was trying to be funny. And there is nothing more interesting than reading other people's medical stories. Because my memory is such that all these details may be forgotten in the next day, hour, minute.......
Oh...and because I promised Maria I wouldn't forget. Not her....not her sons. We acknowledged we would probably never know the end of each other stories....but she made an impact on my life in 2 short days and I promised I would pray for her and her sons. Please join me in praying for this wonderful, sweet, simple, loving, grieving woman.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The FIRE!
When I was 13 years old my biological family and I went on a camping trip over the Thanksgiving weekend. When we returned on Sunday our neighbor came up to the driver's side window and knocked. When the window was rolled down he just said, "I'm sorry to tell you, but your house burned down while you were gone."
Life changing. Many things changed in my life when I was 13. I lost all my possessions. I wore the same pair of Levi 501's and 3 Hang Ten t-shirts that I had taken camping, for the next 4 months. I told. I told the secret. Maybe if there had never been a fire....and we hadn't been separated temporarily....if I hadn't had that glimpse into "real" life....maybe I wouldn't have had the guts to get so angry. Maybe that fire changed my circumstances just enough for me to learn how to stand up for myself. I left. I turned my back on the old and began the new. New family. New dreams. New me.
Fire changes things.
J and A had a fire. E and S had already left for school. J had just driven away with C and A to drop them off. A was just about to get into the shower while KS slept. She smelled something. The same kind of smell like when the vacuum belt is melting. That burned plastic smell. Not smoke. Not fire. No alarms. Just that smell. She almost ignored it. She went in search and saw a fire next to the stovetop reaching up to the cabinets. She stopped. Remembered the fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink....sprayed it.....nothing. Fizzled. Stopped again. Thought she could put it out with a towel....realizing after probably just seconds that it wasn't working and was even making it worse. It was bigger now. Smoke was getting heavy. Grabbed her cell phone, took KS from her crib and ran out the door. Called 911 first and then J. He told her to get the hose. Jared was only at the corner... a few blocks away. Things had happened so fast. J drove home VERY fast...arrived before the fire engines. A was in the back yard struggling to untangle the hose....J got it from her and entered the house from the back. C helped untangle the hose and get the kinks out. J laid on his stomach in the family room because the smoke was so thick. He aimed the hose at the fire and had it pretty much out by the time the fire trucks arrived. The firemen did their job and saved the rest of the house. They determined that the fire started with the toaster. No, no one was using it at the time. It was just sitting there. Plugged in. It was always plugged in. Isn't everybody's? G explained that a plugged in small appliance is always receiving current. Eventually if your wiring is damaged or old...eventually they catch on fire. Every day. Seriously. A toaster could have killed my son and his wife and his 5 children. A plugged in toaster. If you read this....please unplug your small appliances when you are not using them. I have.
Chaos. I remember that as being the aftermath of my fire and it certainly was for this one. The boys stayed here for a few days. Dealing with insurance. Buying new clothes. Dealing with somebody else in your home touching your stuff. Hard. Life changing.
Jesus says he can bring out the beauty from our ashes. I am who I am partly because I went through fire. I wonder what amazing things He is going to do from these ashes. God loves to surprise. I patiently wait.
Thank you Jesus for saving my kids and grandkids. Things can be replaced. Stuff is just stuff. They are my heart and I am so greatful that you protected them.
Life changing. Many things changed in my life when I was 13. I lost all my possessions. I wore the same pair of Levi 501's and 3 Hang Ten t-shirts that I had taken camping, for the next 4 months. I told. I told the secret. Maybe if there had never been a fire....and we hadn't been separated temporarily....if I hadn't had that glimpse into "real" life....maybe I wouldn't have had the guts to get so angry. Maybe that fire changed my circumstances just enough for me to learn how to stand up for myself. I left. I turned my back on the old and began the new. New family. New dreams. New me.
Fire changes things.
J and A had a fire. E and S had already left for school. J had just driven away with C and A to drop them off. A was just about to get into the shower while KS slept. She smelled something. The same kind of smell like when the vacuum belt is melting. That burned plastic smell. Not smoke. Not fire. No alarms. Just that smell. She almost ignored it. She went in search and saw a fire next to the stovetop reaching up to the cabinets. She stopped. Remembered the fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink....sprayed it.....nothing. Fizzled. Stopped again. Thought she could put it out with a towel....realizing after probably just seconds that it wasn't working and was even making it worse. It was bigger now. Smoke was getting heavy. Grabbed her cell phone, took KS from her crib and ran out the door. Called 911 first and then J. He told her to get the hose. Jared was only at the corner... a few blocks away. Things had happened so fast. J drove home VERY fast...arrived before the fire engines. A was in the back yard struggling to untangle the hose....J got it from her and entered the house from the back. C helped untangle the hose and get the kinks out. J laid on his stomach in the family room because the smoke was so thick. He aimed the hose at the fire and had it pretty much out by the time the fire trucks arrived. The firemen did their job and saved the rest of the house. They determined that the fire started with the toaster. No, no one was using it at the time. It was just sitting there. Plugged in. It was always plugged in. Isn't everybody's? G explained that a plugged in small appliance is always receiving current. Eventually if your wiring is damaged or old...eventually they catch on fire. Every day. Seriously. A toaster could have killed my son and his wife and his 5 children. A plugged in toaster. If you read this....please unplug your small appliances when you are not using them. I have.
Chaos. I remember that as being the aftermath of my fire and it certainly was for this one. The boys stayed here for a few days. Dealing with insurance. Buying new clothes. Dealing with somebody else in your home touching your stuff. Hard. Life changing.
Jesus says he can bring out the beauty from our ashes. I am who I am partly because I went through fire. I wonder what amazing things He is going to do from these ashes. God loves to surprise. I patiently wait.
Thank you Jesus for saving my kids and grandkids. Things can be replaced. Stuff is just stuff. They are my heart and I am so greatful that you protected them.
AJB Birth Story, finally!
Wow! He's 3 weeks and 1 day today! He's beautiful and wonderful and I can't seem to be able to see him enough! In fact, I haven't seen him for 9 days!! Nobody's fault really...just circumstances. (J & A had a house fire! Will blog about that next. And I was sick =(
So...let's see what I can remember......
S and her girlfriend, R, went to Tahoe Joe's for lunch on the 7th because the cheesecake there is supposed to induce labor. So off they went and had a fabulous lunch. Later...at R's in-laws place of business....(R's MIL is one of my closest friends.) her water broke! I hear it was pretty funny! So they called G at work and he came and picked her up and off they went to the hospital. They determined that her water did indeed break and got her on monitors. For purposes of paperwork they decided that her labor actually started at 4:30 p.m. I arrived at the hospital at 5:30 p.m. where I was to stay for the next 26 hours.
Her labor started quite slowly....(comparing to mine when I went into labor after my water broke with J. Immediate hard, knee buckling pain!) She barely felt the contractions....had to look at the monitor sometimes just to see she was having them! She was already a 2 from the week before....and after a few hours she was a 4. Then they started pitocin and the pain increased dramatically. I am fuzzy about some of the times now...but I think around midnight she got her epidural. She LOVED it. She never wanted one but the pain was so excruciating that she finally gave in. She said that during the contractions it felt like she was getting the best massage! She was able to doze a little, too. Somewhere around 4:00 a.m. she got checked and was at a 9.5. The turned her epidural off and had her start "practice" pushing. The whole lot of us were sent out to the waiting room to await A's arrival. I dozed off and on for the next 2 1/2 hours sitting straight up in a very uncomfortable chair.
I must have slept hard for a moment....because I woke up in a panic. Realizing she'd been pushing for 2 1/2 hours and we'd heard NOTHING about what was going on....I went and stood by the door of their room. I could hear S screaming and crying and saying she "couldn't do it anymore!" I opened the door a crack and waiting until I caught G's eye....I asked him if he needed me to come in and he said no. So I closed the door and prayed. Then some cleaning lady came by and said that I couldn't stand by the door and I needed to go back to the waiting room. I said I would when I was done praying...she agreed and I left about 1 minute later. I really was trying to keep my heart and mind centered on God and realize that He was in control....I kept praying that God would intervene in that room and allow A to be born naturally. I was fighting back panic and fear....unsuccessfully. I would wander back down the hall and stop and listen at the door...pray...wander down to the waiting room. I was by myself. I wasn't talking to anybody and wasn't bother the nurses at all. I kept my head down and didn't linger any one place very long. So on one of my trips down the hall...here comes a Security Guard! He informed me that if I didn't go and stay in the waiting room he was gonna CALL THE POLICE!!!!!! SERIOUSLY!!!! I have had 4 other grandchildren born in that hospital! ALL 4 times I have stood outside the door!!!! NEVER have I been so insulted in my life. And the security guard....he was a little pimply faced adolescent wearing a uniform too big for him and with some kind of power complex! I was in tears, still scared and really fighting down a panic attack. At the time I didn't realize I was having a panic attack....but looking back I now realize it was. S's mom tried to calm me. I couldn't understand why they all weren't falling apart. I just knew something was going wrong and I couldn't stop crying. About 30 minutes after the SG incident a nurse came into the waiting room looking for "the grandmother who is really upset!" She wanted to let me know that the other nurses had asked her to go into the room and ask G to come out and talk to me! REALLY? I never asked for that! He was 100% supposed to be exactly where he was supposed to be and all I wanted was to be close and pray. I told her about the cleaning lady and the SG and what he'd threatened me with. She was furious. She told me that the Nurse Manager for the whole unit would be in in an couple of hours and that I should report the incident immediately....she had never heard of anything like it! She also told us that S had been "refusing" to push for most of the time and that now she was finally getting serious." She told us that A would be here soon. I called Gary and he came to the hospital. I met him downstairs and we went and sat in his truck and I ate a banana and took my medication. After about 10 minutes I went back upstairs and heard that he'd been born. Nobody knew anything yet other that he'd made his appearance. Withing about 30 seconds I received the CUTEST picture on my phone....and got to share the news with the whole gang! I was such a proud Nana!
Now for the rest of the story......
The nurse who had suggested that S start to "practice" pushing I guess never really was much help in teaching S HOW to push. She apparently mostly just stood around. Obviously it just wasn't a match for their personalities. S never got from her exactly what she was supposed to be doing...and was exhausting herself trying to do everything right. S said that G was AMAZING! He never left her side (I can attest to that!) and was 100% supportive and encouraging. At shift change around 7:30 a.m. the night nurse left and in came the day nurse. TOTALLY different personality! S HATED her because she was a "drill sargeant!" Basically that is when S began to push with purpose...(when I told her later what the other nurse had said that she was "refusing" to push.....well I can't print what she thought about that!!!) She finally had someone telling her exactly what to do, when to do it, how to do it and that she COULD do it. The Dr had been in the room for at least the last hour and ended up having to do a level 4 episiotomy. That is being cut from vagina to anus!!!!!!!! (Sorry for being so graphic....but it is MAJOR!) AJB was born 3/8/11, 8 lbs 8 oz, 8:07 a.m. (S says she sorry but she couldn't wait on more minute for him to be born at 8:08! Can't say I blame her!) His head was funny looking....not a conehead....more like an oblong...and he had a ton of hair in the back of his head but just peach fuzz on the top. We tease that he had "Papa's hair!" And of course, he was (and is) absolutely perfect and beautiful!) (Oh...and by the way...the nurse that S hated so much during childbirth....was the most amazing comforting and attentive nurse for the rest of the day. S learned so much from her and really grew to love her!)
G was obviously in love with his son from the moment he laid eyes on him. He is such a great dad! And he really stepped up in caring for S after the birth. S was in so much pain from the birth and she could barely move. She was bleeding heavily and after the 1st time getting up to use the restroom the nurse had to pull that emergency cord in the bathroom. (I always wondered what would happen if you pulled that cord....apparently every nurse and aide on the floor comes running!) They caught her from falling and and got her back into bed in a moment of controlled chaos. So they didnt let her get up without a nurse until the next day. When they finally did...G took control. He filled her waterbottle, prepared her pad, changed her pads...I mean he did everything! He also took over with Austin....changing him, burping him and dressing him. He could swaddle him better that any of us! I say all of this because I saw a new side to my son. One I hoped would be there...but wasn't sure if it would. He was tender, and caring and present. I was sure that I would be spending the first night with them because I didn't think G wanted to do it by himself. But...he was very confident and they had each other and I got to go home and sleep in my own bed! Yay!
Wednesday...they said they could go home IF A would poop! We waited and waited and waited. Well...we cuddled, took pictures, fed, S pumped, laughed and oooed and awed over him. Still....no poop. Gas...but no poop! Finally, about 4:30 he did it! Not much! But enough to make the nurses happy. So A was able to go home. We took Tahoe Joe's over for dinner (seemed appropriate!) and got them settled and headed home ourselves. S found nursing extremely difficult because A would not stay latched. I got her a breast pump and she has found that pumping and the bottle seems to make the most sense for them. They have been doing an amazing job ever since. I am so blessed to have S be the mother of my grandbaby! And so proud of G. And so in love with A!!!!
So...let's see what I can remember......
S and her girlfriend, R, went to Tahoe Joe's for lunch on the 7th because the cheesecake there is supposed to induce labor. So off they went and had a fabulous lunch. Later...at R's in-laws place of business....(R's MIL is one of my closest friends.) her water broke! I hear it was pretty funny! So they called G at work and he came and picked her up and off they went to the hospital. They determined that her water did indeed break and got her on monitors. For purposes of paperwork they decided that her labor actually started at 4:30 p.m. I arrived at the hospital at 5:30 p.m. where I was to stay for the next 26 hours.
Her labor started quite slowly....(comparing to mine when I went into labor after my water broke with J. Immediate hard, knee buckling pain!) She barely felt the contractions....had to look at the monitor sometimes just to see she was having them! She was already a 2 from the week before....and after a few hours she was a 4. Then they started pitocin and the pain increased dramatically. I am fuzzy about some of the times now...but I think around midnight she got her epidural. She LOVED it. She never wanted one but the pain was so excruciating that she finally gave in. She said that during the contractions it felt like she was getting the best massage! She was able to doze a little, too. Somewhere around 4:00 a.m. she got checked and was at a 9.5. The turned her epidural off and had her start "practice" pushing. The whole lot of us were sent out to the waiting room to await A's arrival. I dozed off and on for the next 2 1/2 hours sitting straight up in a very uncomfortable chair.
I must have slept hard for a moment....because I woke up in a panic. Realizing she'd been pushing for 2 1/2 hours and we'd heard NOTHING about what was going on....I went and stood by the door of their room. I could hear S screaming and crying and saying she "couldn't do it anymore!" I opened the door a crack and waiting until I caught G's eye....I asked him if he needed me to come in and he said no. So I closed the door and prayed. Then some cleaning lady came by and said that I couldn't stand by the door and I needed to go back to the waiting room. I said I would when I was done praying...she agreed and I left about 1 minute later. I really was trying to keep my heart and mind centered on God and realize that He was in control....I kept praying that God would intervene in that room and allow A to be born naturally. I was fighting back panic and fear....unsuccessfully. I would wander back down the hall and stop and listen at the door...pray...wander down to the waiting room. I was by myself. I wasn't talking to anybody and wasn't bother the nurses at all. I kept my head down and didn't linger any one place very long. So on one of my trips down the hall...here comes a Security Guard! He informed me that if I didn't go and stay in the waiting room he was gonna CALL THE POLICE!!!!!! SERIOUSLY!!!! I have had 4 other grandchildren born in that hospital! ALL 4 times I have stood outside the door!!!! NEVER have I been so insulted in my life. And the security guard....he was a little pimply faced adolescent wearing a uniform too big for him and with some kind of power complex! I was in tears, still scared and really fighting down a panic attack. At the time I didn't realize I was having a panic attack....but looking back I now realize it was. S's mom tried to calm me. I couldn't understand why they all weren't falling apart. I just knew something was going wrong and I couldn't stop crying. About 30 minutes after the SG incident a nurse came into the waiting room looking for "the grandmother who is really upset!" She wanted to let me know that the other nurses had asked her to go into the room and ask G to come out and talk to me! REALLY? I never asked for that! He was 100% supposed to be exactly where he was supposed to be and all I wanted was to be close and pray. I told her about the cleaning lady and the SG and what he'd threatened me with. She was furious. She told me that the Nurse Manager for the whole unit would be in in an couple of hours and that I should report the incident immediately....she had never heard of anything like it! She also told us that S had been "refusing" to push for most of the time and that now she was finally getting serious." She told us that A would be here soon. I called Gary and he came to the hospital. I met him downstairs and we went and sat in his truck and I ate a banana and took my medication. After about 10 minutes I went back upstairs and heard that he'd been born. Nobody knew anything yet other that he'd made his appearance. Withing about 30 seconds I received the CUTEST picture on my phone....and got to share the news with the whole gang! I was such a proud Nana!
Now for the rest of the story......
The nurse who had suggested that S start to "practice" pushing I guess never really was much help in teaching S HOW to push. She apparently mostly just stood around. Obviously it just wasn't a match for their personalities. S never got from her exactly what she was supposed to be doing...and was exhausting herself trying to do everything right. S said that G was AMAZING! He never left her side (I can attest to that!) and was 100% supportive and encouraging. At shift change around 7:30 a.m. the night nurse left and in came the day nurse. TOTALLY different personality! S HATED her because she was a "drill sargeant!" Basically that is when S began to push with purpose...(when I told her later what the other nurse had said that she was "refusing" to push.....well I can't print what she thought about that!!!) She finally had someone telling her exactly what to do, when to do it, how to do it and that she COULD do it. The Dr had been in the room for at least the last hour and ended up having to do a level 4 episiotomy. That is being cut from vagina to anus!!!!!!!! (Sorry for being so graphic....but it is MAJOR!) AJB was born 3/8/11, 8 lbs 8 oz, 8:07 a.m. (S says she sorry but she couldn't wait on more minute for him to be born at 8:08! Can't say I blame her!) His head was funny looking....not a conehead....more like an oblong...and he had a ton of hair in the back of his head but just peach fuzz on the top. We tease that he had "Papa's hair!" And of course, he was (and is) absolutely perfect and beautiful!) (Oh...and by the way...the nurse that S hated so much during childbirth....was the most amazing comforting and attentive nurse for the rest of the day. S learned so much from her and really grew to love her!)
G was obviously in love with his son from the moment he laid eyes on him. He is such a great dad! And he really stepped up in caring for S after the birth. S was in so much pain from the birth and she could barely move. She was bleeding heavily and after the 1st time getting up to use the restroom the nurse had to pull that emergency cord in the bathroom. (I always wondered what would happen if you pulled that cord....apparently every nurse and aide on the floor comes running!) They caught her from falling and and got her back into bed in a moment of controlled chaos. So they didnt let her get up without a nurse until the next day. When they finally did...G took control. He filled her waterbottle, prepared her pad, changed her pads...I mean he did everything! He also took over with Austin....changing him, burping him and dressing him. He could swaddle him better that any of us! I say all of this because I saw a new side to my son. One I hoped would be there...but wasn't sure if it would. He was tender, and caring and present. I was sure that I would be spending the first night with them because I didn't think G wanted to do it by himself. But...he was very confident and they had each other and I got to go home and sleep in my own bed! Yay!
Wednesday...they said they could go home IF A would poop! We waited and waited and waited. Well...we cuddled, took pictures, fed, S pumped, laughed and oooed and awed over him. Still....no poop. Gas...but no poop! Finally, about 4:30 he did it! Not much! But enough to make the nurses happy. So A was able to go home. We took Tahoe Joe's over for dinner (seemed appropriate!) and got them settled and headed home ourselves. S found nursing extremely difficult because A would not stay latched. I got her a breast pump and she has found that pumping and the bottle seems to make the most sense for them. They have been doing an amazing job ever since. I am so blessed to have S be the mother of my grandbaby! And so proud of G. And so in love with A!!!!
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