Life Unedited: Sweetness of a Four Year Old

Earlier this week, I got a taste of what my life will be like in another month. The 3 older kids went to art camp and Daniel and I spent a few days together on our own. At the end of August, Isaac, Lauralyn, and Kristin will head to school, and I will have one last year with Daniel at home.


Six months ago, I would have never considered this situation. Actually, I signed Daniel up for a full time pre-school. But I was also expecting a baby to be arriving, and since that is no longer the case, my goals and priorities have shifted.


So, I am now looking forward to my last year with Daniel at home. He has matured a lot this year, and his personality is fun and charming. He will keep me busy.




Earlier this year, Daniel was obsessed with all thing mail related. The postman and post office held his affection like nothing else. A trip to put letters in the big blue mail box or greeting the postman at the edge of the driveway still thrills him. So, this week he convinced me to finally make his postman costume wearable (it was way to big in the waist). After working the needle and thread, we took a trip to the post office to mail a cd to a client.




He's so stinking cute, no?




Currently, Daniel's obsession is all things lifeguard and whistle related. He is extremely popular at the pool, always being surrounded by pretty teenage girls. The lifeguards let him blow the whistle for break... and he struts around twirling the whistle around his finger, just like the lifeguards do to pass the time. It is pretty funny. Such a charmer, this boy.

Swim. 2012

Another successful swim team season finished. The county championship meet was held yesterday. I only sweated about a gallon or two. It was hot and steamy.



I enjoy the county meet because there is an air of excitement, it is usually fairly well organized, and we see our friends on opposing teams.




(Lane and Isaac have been friends since they were in utero, 2 months apart in age).

We also get to spend time with friends we have made over the years on our own team.



This year, both Isaac and Lauralyn made huge improvements in skills. They are also both on the younger side of their age group, so will have a little more edge next year when they are they older ones. Even so, they both did awesome at the meet, and placed well in all their events. More importantly, they had fun and improved on most all of their own times.

Kristin could have been on the team. She can actually swim the length of the pool no problem. But, after the first practice, she had enough, and refused to go to another practice.  She is content to float and play in the water.




Lauralyn is the one in the middle w/ the blue cap and green goggle straps. Her breast stroke has become quite fast, and beautifully executed.

Lauralyn did very well in all her events, but the most exciting was a 1.5 second improvement on her 50 meter freestyle, placing 3rd out of 39 girls! She also completed her first 100 meter IM (I think placing 3rd...didn't wait for those results).





Isaac also did awesome, knocking of almost FOUR seconds off his 25 meter freestyle (placing 7th out of 27 boys)! He has worked hard on perfecting his strokes the past two months.  His butterfly is great (he placed 5th), and breast stroke is also looking much faster. I told him a few weeks ago that if he didn't focus and work harder, his little sister was on her way to beating his times... and guess what? He made some major efforts towards improvement.


Both kids have caught the swimming bug. On the way home they talked about continuing to swim all winter to stay sharp. We'll see if that motivation continues come November.


Either way, swim team is FUN. It is hard work, but wow! So amazing to see the skill and strength these kid have acquired!

Lost Dog, Lost Religion.

I thought I lost my dog today. I let him out early this morning, the normal routine. Twenty minutes later, he was nowhere to be found. He had his shock collar on, and rarely has crossed the boundary... and the times he has, he is very close and comes when called. This morning, not so much.


While walking around on my typical Wednesday morning walk with Nanet, searching for this dog (who should have no real impact on my life), I had some words with God. I lost my baby, my tiny son, and kept the faith. But I came extremely close to losing my faith over a lost dog.


Crazy, isn't it?


It's not that I'll ever stop believing in God, however I am walking a fine line between believing God is a loving father versus being a cruel puppet master.


I am so weak. People out there suffer so much more than I, and keep their faith. Yet, I was ready to simply quit over a lost dog.


The embers of fury and hurt burn on, fueled by other circumstances I have not spoken of... I am stiff necked and hard-hearted. I do not melt and mold when the heat is turned up. I simply burn. Angry. How am I supposed to raise my children well when I am angry at God?


When I was a teenager, full of rage from my circumstances, I truly felt that there was no reason to ever procreate. Why bring children into this world of pain? I had thought I would strictly adopt, and never give birth myself. What I didn't know was the God given desire to be fruitful and multiply. Now I worry about the pain my children will face. What does God have in store for them?


Cling to the promises. Cling to the hope. 


I am clinging, but my hands are getting awfully tired.


Note: the naughty "lost" dog is well and fine, having had a bath to wash the stink off...

Splish

Splash

2 Months

Restless, exhausted, and sleep won't come. So, here I sit, typing out the thoughts that won't leave my overloaded mind. 


As I laid in the bed, I realized that two months ago tonight, I was pregnant and blissfully unaware of the hours to come.


Heartbreak seems to be a trend with those I love these recent days. It all makes me numb. And scared. When will the next tragedy come? 


I have been fretting over having more children. I want to foster, but fear the pain of loss. News of a friend having to say an unexpected goodbye to a foster baby, reminds me of the heartache that is attached to the foster parenting job description.


At the same time, pregnancy seems almost unattainable... well, really, I should say a healthy pregnancy with the end result of a healthy baby. The fears stack up so tall I really don't know if I can get past them.


It all comes down to the risk. The risk of hurting, of feeling the pain. The risk of handing it over to the One who is in control. Can I peel back my fingers from my death grip on control? I even KNOW I am fooling myself (I have no control), yet, I am still holding tight. Stubborn child.

It dawned on me that I will be 47 when Daniel graduates high school. If we have no more children, we will have an empty nest in 14 short years. Something about that feels so wrong to me.

I desire more than anything, in the here and now, to enjoy my children fully. Soak in each milestone. So that in the days coming, I can remember how beautiful and amazing each one was as a child. How precious are their their unique personalities! I am very thankful to have them in my life, I don't ever want to sound ungrateful, or like I am so focused on future children (and children already gone) I don't even see the ones I have been given. 

The kids have helped keep me from sinking these past two months. They are compassionate and loving when they see me crumble. Daniel tells me he loves me over and over. It is a funny (and wonderful) habit he has right now. I hear "I love you, Mommy," at least 20 times a day from him. What a lovely reminder to know I am loved. Such a sweet boy.


My eyes are heavy from my lack of sleep and the benadryl slowly kicking in. Tomorrow marks two months. Two long and weary months.

New Day.

Thank goodness I can wake up to a new day. The misery of yesterday rolls back. That's the nice thing about storms. They do eventually pass. Although, admittedly, I feel a black cloud has hung over our house this year.


A full week lays ahead. Dentist appointments, principal meeting, swim meet, art camp, a wedding to shoot. Busy is good. Boring is good. Hoping for a busy, boring week.

Sunday Blues.

Sunday blues. A day full of acting, of fake smiles, of wanting to just be somewhere else. Somebody else.

Keep it together.

I only go through the act to keep the children in some sense of normal. And to avoid the "tsk tsk" from the multitudes.

The words of the hymns and songs I cannot sing. The words are either too common, annoyingly so, or speak of truth that just feels far too painful to ponder. I do everything and anything to not think about them.

It is all ritual. Stand up, sit down, pray, sing, sit still, listen, walk away a more profitable Christian. And while corporate worship may be commanded, and even beneficial to me as a general rule, right now, it feels empty.

Oh, the drama. I get so inside my head I aggravate myself.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.


~Shakespeare (Macbeth)


I wish it wasn't so. I do love my church family. However, now, I spend a whole lot of time avoiding them. It is a lonely place to be, but I hate the casual, "How are you?s" It is all such foolishness. There are very few people I feel I can be real with. Some, are not even very close to me. It's odd how I can spill my mind to a person who has very little knowledge of who I am. I suppose it's safer that way. 

There are some in my life who have said nothing, not even a simple email... which says everything. It makes anger stir in me that I'm not sure what to do with. Avoidance.  

Just don't think about it.

My husband is always grumpy on Sundays. I'm not delightful, myself. I understand his frustration, but, the distance between us only exasperates my melancholy mood. It seems Sundays is my kryptonite, my achilles heal. (Mercy, there's the drama again). I will suffer through a full week without a tear and Sunday hits like an unwelcome reminder.


I can't get through Wal-mart without shedding tears on a Sunday. The baby section mocks me. Today, pregnant ladies were around ever turn. Pregnant teenagers. I checked out behind a family, and I looked up to see the mama's belly literally looking like it might burst. Amazing how her belly mimicked the oblong watermelon on the conveyor belt. I had never seen anything like it... poor woman. It's amazing what women go through for their children.

This, too, shall pass.


It won't be like this forever, I remind myself. At least I hope not. There will be a day I won't hate the Sunday morning ritual. There will be a day I won't lie when answering "Okay" to the ever repeated "how are you"s. 


The kids keep me moving forward. They are so precious (even though I feel like a walking disaster, I still recognize their beauty, and humor).


Even so, come, Lord Jesus.

(Good grief, woman, stop it with the drama)... and the parenthesis and the italics. Jeez, I'm annoying myself.

Again.

Another seizure. This time at the pool... it started when I was in the bathroom. I couldn't have been in there more than 90 seconds. I came out and saw him laying on the concrete, under the shelter, nobody else around. At first, I said, "What are you doing, Daniel?" But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew.


Not again. Not again.


I grabbed him off of the hard floor and in a panic didn't know what to do next. The young lifeguard (one of Daniel's favorites) asked if everything was okay. Choking back tears I blurted, "He's having a seizure."


At first the young lifeguard asked if we should call paramedics... I, dreading the drama, dreading the ER, said "no." Maybe, just maybe, he would come right out of the seizure, and it would be mild. But 20 seconds later, I told him to go ahead and dial.


People put down towels and I did my best to hold him down. His entire little body shook so violently. He bloodied up his ankle in the process despite my best efforts. His body felt so hot. Why is he so hot? We were just swimming.


Lord, WHY?


I was able to stay much calmer than the last episode in January. At least I knew it was a seizure, I knew what to do. Most importantly, I knew he wasn't dieing. (Although the thought crossed my mind, what if he banged his head on the concrete, and why is he seizing?)


The seizure broke after about 4 or 5 minutes. EMS was there shortly thereafter. (Not the 20+ minute wait like last time).


I climbed into the ambulance, leaving the girls with an acquaintance (the sisters were unconcerned, one would think their brother and mom leaving in an AMBULANCE would be worth a little concern, no? Silly girls.) I went to the emergency room wearing a bathing suit. Lovely. Good thing I am particular about semi-modesty, and covering my thighs. No wallet, only my cell phone.


Another "meet me at the hospital" call to Noah. I'm sure he'd be glad to never get one of those calls again.


Walking into the ER, I am hit full force with the memories. The first person I saw was the nurse. How is it possible she is on duty every time we have been here this year? I pray they don't take us to the room where we lost Joel. They don't. Instead we are in the main room... the roomy one with the crash cart and no chairs. How many people have been pronounced dead in this room, I wonder? How many have died on this very bed? It makes my skin crawl and turns my stomach. The pain of loss is thick in this place.


Fast forward through several hours, several tests, and several, "Can we go home?s" from Daniel. He has recovered quicker than the last time since the seizure was shorter, but a CT scan is required and neck brace must be worn, since we didn't know how hard he fell onto the concrete. Daniel sleeps on and off, thankfully sleeping straight through the CT scan. The ER is packed, people in beds line the halls. An ominous text from a friend only raises more anxiety and choked back tears. We all just want to leave.


---------------


Since that afternoon, no reason for Daniel's sudden spike in body temperature has been explained. There are really only two possibilities: he had a sudden virus hit that only presented as a 12 hour fever (and without any other symptom), or he had the beginnings of heat stroke.


Because in my heart, I feel it was heat stroke related, I am worried about future episodes. Obviously, relaxing at the pool is no longer an option. Which really, really stinks. The "what ifs" of that day haunt me. He very well could have been in the pool... oh the thoughts make my heart tense.


As I sat in that dreadful emergency room, I heard God speak to me in a soft quiet voice, "I am the One who holds him in my hand. A sparrow does not fall without my knowing. I hold the keys to life and death."

Today

Today, I will find out whether one of my closest friends has a baby boy or baby girl growing inside. Today is one of those "check list" days. Get it over with... the anticipation is far harder than the actually knowing.


This baby is so very special to me. He or she was going to be Joel's friend. They were going to grow up together two houses apart. 


Having our fifth babies together! What an awesome gift! Especially when you see the whole story... knowing our infertility struggles and the first trimester losses. Surely this was a gift from God, for both of us to be pregnant at the same time with our 5th child, unplanned by us (unable to BE planned).


Our babies were supposed to be redemption for what happened 6 years ago. Surely, Lord, lightening doesn't strike twice?


When I was pregnant with Kristin, my dear friend was pregnant for the very first time, which was a shock and a miracle. She had never been able to conceive in the 8 years of her marriage. We were both elated. Our babies were to be just 2 weeks apart! Joy quickly turned to sorrow, as her tiny babe was gone at 8 weeks. Why, Lord? Why perform a miracle to just take it away?


This was devastating. I was helpless to be a good friend as I felt that my growing belly only mocked her sorrow. That was one of the hardest years for both of us. I felt guilt over my pregnancy, but I also realized the blessing of a healthy baby. I tried my best to not take Kristin's life for granted.


My friend was present for Kristin's birth, and for many months after her birth, she was a second mama to my baby girl. It helped my heart to know that my baby, who I feared would be a wall in our friendship, was actually helping in the healing process.


Fast forward 6 years, and my dear friend and I are both shocked and apprehensive to be pregnant together again. We held our breaths getting through the first trimesters. She rejoiced with me when I brought news of Joel's healthy heartbeat at 13 weeks, and we were SO excited when a month later, her baby's strong heartbeat was heard at 11 weeks.


This was actually going to happen! We both had healthy babies! Redemption!


We had one day to let go of our fears and dream of the future together. Two days later, Joel was gone.


It is hard to understand why God has ordained this rocky, painful path for us. I can only think that the pain makes us depend solely on Him, and that He knows through the pain our friendship is strengthened. My dear friend grieves with me like no other person can. She knows. This is our story, our lives intertwined with sorrow, loss, and Lord willing, healing.

4 Years

One special boy came into our lives 4 years ago... what a blessing we received that day, and every day since.

Another Monday

Eyes burning and the tears come against my will. Anger sears my soul. The tightness in my chest creeps up to my throat.


"Are you okay, Mommy?"


I look away. Grit my teeth knowing my children must suffer this loss in their own way. All of them acting out, compounding my emotions and lack of patience.


Another week done. Now start over. Get through it. Try to be productive. Try not to scar my kids.


"Mean." He says under his breath. All because I said to finish his chores and read out loud before he can have an icy-pop.


The youngest won't stop crying and whining because he woke up from a nap, which always makes him cranky. He had been sent to his bed for peeing in the laundry basket on purpose. Who does that? What's wrong with these people?


I debate taking my old dog to the vet. Her seizures have increased to several times a week. I'm afraid if I take her to the vet... she won't come home. Facing another goodbye. But right now, she is wagging her tail, and smiling at me with her faded eyes as I scratch under her neck.


Crap. It's another Monday.


We will renew our CPR certification tonight. A step towards re-licensing for foster care. Because I have to DO something. I have to move forward or I'll go crazy. But it sucks. This wasn't the plan. This wasn't the plan. Images of Daniel in the NICU when I first laid eyes on him... there could be another baby who needs me to be their mama, even if for just a little while.


An overwhelming need to clear out and get rid of the stuff that has accumulated in our house. The clutter makes me crazy, it seems to reproduce overnight. Packing up toddler toys to put in the attic. Should I even bother saving them?


"All we do is go to the pool. So boring." Spoiled children. Making them suffer at the pool. (Eye roll). But we will go. Today and the day after, and the day after that. Because it kills time. Which right now, is the best thing I can think to do. Just get through this year without any more major catastrophes. Just get through.


Isaac frequently talks about Joel. He protects Joel's tree with the fierceness of a big brother... "Mommy, is Daddy watering Joel's tree everyday?" Then he threatened bodily harm on his friend who taunted him by touching the tree.


I understand Isaac's heart. Joel's death did not mean I lost my desire to parent him. (Or Isaac's desire to be his big brother). Watering the tree and brushing grass clippings off his name on the stone is the only physical way I can mother him.

Lauralyn says something nice to Daniel. Kristin does the same. Isaac brings in a bunch of cucumbers without my asking... which is exactly what I need for the tuna salad for tonight. 

"Mommy, can we please go to the pool?"


Half-way though another Monday.