Taking Some Advice

My house is quiet.  Richard is working late tonight.  My kids are all sleeping and my house is put back together.  I just sat down on the couch, opened my computer, and decided to look up a friend's blog.  This friend is one of the wisest women I know.  She only lived in Wisconsin for one year, but she became a good friend and I dream of living by her again one day.  In her most recent post, which was just a few days ago, she wrote about how her life feels flat, not up or down, just existing.  She went on to explain things she was thankful for.  She ended her post with these words...

"If, like me, your life feels just a bit flat, I dare you to write about the things that make you happy, and I'd guess it won't feel nearly as flat as it did before you started."

So even though it is 10:16 pm, and I really should get to bed, I am taking her up on her dare.  

I am so grateful for Gretchen.  Her pregnancy was riddled with intense worry.  I worried from the time I found out I was pregnant with her.  I was never given a reason to worry, but I carried that worry on my shoulders all the way through her delivery.  She has been such a bright spot in my life.  Her cheeks,  big eyes, fluffy hair, squishy thighs, and big smile warm my soul about 100 times a day. 

I am grateful for "normal" days.  We just lived through a week and a half of illness and it was down right miserable.  People had stomach flues, colds, croup, and eye infections.  We had two trips to urgent care for three kids and one visit to the pediatrician.  Today was our first normal day and let me tell you, it made me so happy.  The kids did jobs in the morning and went off to school, I played with Rachel, ran errands, went to parent/teacher conferences, made dinner, sat at the table, bathed kids, and even cleaned Rachel's poop out of the bathtub.  So even though our bedtime routine was a little gross and chaotic, I would take that any day over my last week and a half.  

I am grateful for Richard.  He had no idea what he was getting into when he married me.  And neither of us had any idea what we were getting into emotionally when we moved to Utah.  But he has been unwavering, caring, supportive and loving as I have muddled through so much emotion during the months we have lived here.  

I am grateful for the joy I find with my kids.  They are at such delightful and fun ages.  I genuinely enjoy being with them, talking with them, going places with them.  I am already brainstorming summer ideas and all the new places I want to explore with them this summer.  Tonight it was just me and the kids at dinner.  The conversation was so easy and so fun.  I loved watching them react to each other and to me.  We usually have a great dynamic going, and I love it.  

I am grateful for people who help.  Since moving to Utah my life has been full of the unexpected.  I knew coming here wasn't going to be easy with a move, a new job, a new school, and a new baby...but so much more has been thrown at us.  Bridget got a concussion just weeks after moving here which prompted many doctors appointments, Rachel was hospitalized the weekend of her birthday, Gretchen was transverse which led to a morning in the hospital for me, and my Grandpa Yancey very suddenly passed away.  I feel like I have been trying to keep my head above water in a turbulent ocean for the last seven months.  In Wisconsin I had my village, my tribe, my network of friends who I could call on in a moments notice and help would be at my door.  Since coming here I have had a hard time asking for help and I think this is for many reasons.   I feel like all of a sudden I got plopped in people's lives and I don't want to be a burden.  I also gave so much help in Wisconsin, and due to my current state of life, I don't have much help to offer, so I feel hesitant to ask.  But, I have had one steady thought through all of this...all of these events since moving here have forced me to ask for help.  Help from family, help from old friends, help from neighbors, help from people I go to church with that I hardly know.  And while it has been uncomfortable for me, I am thankful for people who help, whether I ask them or not.  I am taken care of.  

I am grateful for an inspired mom who sent me an email yesterday with two fantastic quotes and a talk to listen to.  Exceptional.  I have been searching for weeks for things to calm me spiritually and that email was a literal answer to prayer.

I am thankful for two dear and wonderful Wisconsin friends who check on me through frequent phone calls, texts, and emails.  I desperately wish I still saw these women on a daily basis and that our conversations were more frequent, but that is all impossible for now, but they don't forget me, and for that I am so thankful.  

And now here I am at 10:42, with eyes that are getting heavy, and just like my friend said, my flat life seems a bit brighter after writing.  Thanks for the dare.  

Time Flies...

...when you are barely surviving taking care of four children in the dreariness of winter. 

I really want to redeem this blog this year.  My goal is 50 posts in 2017.  That has to be somewhat doable right?!  Please tell me it is.  

There is so much to write about.  I feel like our lives have been completely turned upside down.  Some days are great.  Some days are so, so hard.  

For now I will say we all love and adore little Gretchen.  Richard loves his job.  We are loving living close to family.  Our kids adore their grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins and the novelty of having them around has not worn off.  We miss our life in Wisconsin, but one huge benefit I have seen, and think about almost daily, is that our kids have become best friends, and I just love watching that happen.  

Gretchen is almost five months old and I feel like we have found a reasonably good groove as a family of six.  Actually, I feel like Richard and I have it down when we're together, and I mostly have it down when I'm alone!  

So, here's to a new year, even though we're already a month in!  I hope to be back soon, maybe this week, with another post, that's a bit more informative.  :)

Grandpa Yancey

Late on Friday night, on October 21, my sweet, gentle and wonderful Grandpa Yancey passed away.  His passing was so sudden that it has left all of us reeling.  Still, more than a week later, my brain wanders in thoughts that take me back to him, to that night, to all those feelings.  His death was so different from my grandma's, his wife, and I am having a much harder time with it.  It is such a strange thing to have someone alive one day, one hour, and gone the next.  I have spent so much time in his house this last week.  Seeing his laundry folded in the laundry room, his pill box with Saturday's pills untouched, his shoes sitting by the door.  It is a startling reminder that we have no idea what is coming in the next day, hour, or minute and this life is so incredibly temporary.  

I have so much I want to write about this, so much I want to write about our life in general over the last four months.  Since having Gretchen I have felt such a drive to write, just to get my feelings out, but my time is so limited and my brain is so tired!  So here I am, at 11:00 pm on a Saturday night, everyone is sleeping, and I am writing.

On Thursday, October 13, my Grandpa had a heart attack.  He was serving at the temple at the time, quickly recognized what was happening, asked for help and was taken by ambulance to Lakeview Hospital.  It was determined he would either need a quadruple bypass, or he could have stents placed. On Saturday he was transferred to the U so he could get a second opinion.  Late on Sunday night, he made the decision to have stents placed.  It was a decision all of his doctors felt good about, and his children also.  At the age of 90 he decided he wasn't interested in longevity, but instead, quality of life.  A recovery from a quadruple bypass at the age of 90 would be hard and grueling.  We all thought that with stents he could have just a few more years, continue living the way he had, and we would all have our wonderful Grandpa Yancey around a while longer.

He had six stents placed in the left side of his heart on Monday afternoon.  It was a bit of a difficult procedure, but in the end, all went well, he had a great night and was able to come home on Tuesday, October 18.  My mom and my uncle spent a lot of time at home with him for the rest of the week.  They had meals with him, ran errands with him, helped with mail and bills, did yard work and went on walks.  He was happy, they were happy, and we were all certain he was making an excellent recovery.

On Friday my mom and sister-in-law spent the morning planting daffodil bulbs in his yard while he sat on the front porch.  That evening he went to the symphony with his son and daughter-in-law.  He had bought this ticket months ago to hear a Rachmaninoff concerto.  After all of this though, he asked my aunt and uncle to go with him because he didn't feel comfortable driving alone.  They of course agreed and bought two additional tickets.  From all accounts, the symphony was beautiful and wonderful and all three of them enjoyed it.  

Just as they were pulling off the Centerville exit, my Grandpa told them his heart was hurting.  They helped him take a nitroglycerin tablet, called my mom, and asked her to meet them at his house.  By the time they got to his house, just five minutes later, he was in so much pain he could not get out of the car.  Three nitroglycerin tablets offered him no relief.  He and my mom were taken by ambulance back to Lakeview and my dad and aunt and uncle followed.  

That night I was at my house, Richard was working, and all my kids were sleeping.  At 10:40 pm I got a text from Danny, who lives with him.  It said, "If you are awake call me.  If I do not answer I will call you back."  The second I read that my stomach dropped and I knew something was wrong.  I tried calling Danny twice, but he didn't answer.  I then got a text from my dad saying that Grandpa was likely having another heart attack, it was bad, and he might go.  At that point I lost it and called Stacie.  She answered, filled me in, and I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  Within 20 minutes Danny was at my house and just minutes later Stacie came.  As soon as she walked in my door, Danny and I ran out, in hopes that we could get to the hospital before he passed away.  We walked into his room less than five minutes after he passed away.  

The first thing I heard when we walked in the room was my mom crying as she was hugging her brother.  The first thing I saw was my dad by my Grandpa's bedside; he was crying.  Next I looked at my Grandpa.  He was pale, sweaty, and had a furrowed brow.  I immediately went to his bedside, put one hand on his shoulder, and with my other hand, stroked his soft, white hair.  I had planned to visit him that day, but I didn't, and now I couldn't.  I was a wreck.  I stood there for what seemed like minutes before the doctor came in and officially called his time of death at 11:24 pm.  

I don't think we left that hospital room until 1:00 in the morning.  My parents and aunt and uncle called family, we cried, we hugged, every once in a while we laughed, and every few minutes I stroked his hair.  Looking back, I think I experienced some symptoms of shock from 10:40 on.  My legs were shaking, at times uncontrollably.  Twice I felt dizzy.  Sometimes I felt nauseated.  I have never experienced a situation like that.  Those moments are permanently etched into me now.

In the days since I have felt all sorts of feelings.  Profound sadness that someone who was a part of my life for 33 years is now gone.  Gratitude that I am his granddaughter and part of such an exceptional family.  Guilt that I did not visit him since the Monday he was in the hospital.  Peace that he is with his wife, son, parents, and all of his siblings.  I cried every single day for the next seven days.  Rachel asks me about ten times a day if I am crying again.  Every night I lay on the couch and talk to Richard about death.  I'm sure I am exhausting him.  I'm exhausting myself!

We had a family viewing on Tuesday afternoon.  This is actually the thing that brought me the post peace, calm, and closure during all of this.  One very special thing is that during the family viewing, and the viewing just before the funeral, my Grandpa's body was frequently surrounded by his great-grandchildren.  I didn't take a picture, but I hope I always remember those sweet children gathered around his casket.  I think this speaks volumes about the kind of great-grandfather he was.  These kids knew him, loved him, they knew he loved them.  They had played games with him, sat on his lap, read books with him, and even though he had passed away, they still felt so comfortable being close to his body.

His funeral was a beautiful tribute to the wonderful life he lived.  And it was a wonderful life.  He had such a successful professional life in the insurance industry.  He had traveled the world and seen so many beautiful things.  He had close associations with wonderful people.  He had had a remarkable church experience, serving as the first president of the Bountiful Temple and frequently interacting with prophets and apostles.  But, what stood out to me most, brought me the most gratitude and peace, is the love he had for his family, from the very beginning of his life until his last day on earth.  We were all so important to him, and we knew it.  Bishop Davies, of the presiding bishopric, was at his funeral and was the last speaker.  He said something that I never want to forget.  He told us that Grandpa Yancey would now be our biggest cheerleader in heaven.  He prayed for us while he was alive, and he will continue praying for us.  That brought me so much comfort, and even made me smile.  To think I have one of the best individuals I have ever known, praying for me and cheering me on from heaven, gives me strength to want to be just a bit better each day.

Our kids have been so sweet about all of this.  I told Marshall and Bridget together, soon after they woke up on Saturday morning.  I was very nervous because Bridget had asked about five times on Friday when we could go visit Grandpa Yancey.  They both took the news well though and asked lots of questions.  Just a few minutes later Bridget said the prayer for breakfast, and while I cannot remember exactly what she said, I was so touched by her kind and heartfelt words about her great-grandpa.  Bridget has drawn multiple pictures of him and for him this last week.  She is carrying around the program from his funeral and moves it from room to room with her.  Marshall has his program on his headboard.  It is interesting to see each of them react in their own way.

One thing that I keep thinking about is the timing of all of this.  There were just little miracles in the days leading up to Grandpa Yancey's death.  The fact that two of his kids and their spouses were with him when he passed.  He spent his evening at the symphony.  His last Sunday on earth, even though he was in the hospital, was a great one.  My mom, dad, uncle John, and aunt Margaret spent about 13 hours with him in his small hospital room.  All of them said it was a great, great day, even though they did a whole lot of waiting.  Since his first heart attack, family members had been taking pictures of Grandpa and sending them in group texts with updates on how he was doing.  I look back on those pictures so fondly now.  In each picture his smile was warm and his eyes twinkled.  I am so glad we have those pictures.  Also, the night he passed away, Richard was working so I was home alone with the four kids.  Gretchen is a little night owl and usually doesn't go to bed until sometime between 11:00 pm and midnight.  That night, however, she was conked out by 9:30 and it only took one try getting her to bed.  That usually requires two or three tries.  I am so glad she was asleep so I could rush up to the hospital with Danny.  Those are small, but very notable miracles.

I expect I will grapple with these emotions and thoughts for weeks to come.  I did not take my Grandpa Yancey for granted, I simply assumed he would be with us for our entire two years in Utah.  But instead, we had just shy of four months with him.  I treasured all the time we had with him this year though, and I was very aware they were special moments.  When we were visiting Utah in April Grandpa Yancey played baseball with Marshall and I asked Richard to take a video of them; I am so glad we have that.  This summer after a Sunday dinner at my parents' house, Bridget brought Grandpa Yancey a "Cinderella" book and asked him to read to her.  He did, and I took a picture.  He and my Mom came over for lunch one day this summer and we gave him a tour of our house.  He asked to borrow a book from my shelf.  I found that book in his office last weekend, with his bookmark in it.  Life is so uncertain.  He came over to visit us on Marshall's birthday when Gretchen was just four days old.  I have a picture of him meeting little Gretchen Ruth for the first time and a picture of Marshall curled up next to him on the couch.  These moments and memories are priceless; I just wish we had time to make more.

Oh Grandpa Yancey; he was such a blessing to me.  He was so kind, so gentle, so cheerful, so compassionate, so generous, so wise.  He lived his life in such a true and wonderful way.  He raised four exceptional children.  He was the quintessential grandfather to twelve.  Ten of his twelve grandchildren are married, and he sealed all ten of us.  Gretchen Ruth was his 20th and most recent great-grandchild.  He loved those kids, and they loved him.  Just yesterday, in the early morning hours, his 21st great-grandchild was born, who was given the middle name of Harold.  His passing leaves a giant hole in our hearts.  May we live up to the legacy he left us.

Gretchen's Birth Story

To backtrack a little bit...

When I was 39 weeks pregnant with Rachel she turned sideways.  Thankfully, when I was induced five days later, she had turned herself head down again.  I had a sneaking suspicion I might have a similar problem with Gretchen.  Little did I know the ride she would take me on!

At my 37 week appointment with Gretchen she was sideways, despite being head down at 36 weeks.  My OB really wanted me to try a version.  Initially I was resistant to the idea because I figured she would eventually turn back like Rachel did.  But, my OB expressed her concerns, gave me a couple of days to think about it, and in the end, Richard and I decided to have her turned because we would feel awful if something went wrong that we could have prevented.  

So on August 19th I checked into Labor and Delivery at the U for an external version.  Long story short, I spent five plus hours in a hospital bed, and after they gave me a shot to relax my uterus which has side effects of making your heart race and making you shake, they found out she was head down.   Big waste of time!  But I did get to lay in bed all morning, watch the Olympics, and nap...not too shabby.

At both my 38 and 39 week appointments I had ultrasounds and Gretchen was always head down.  However, I was quite certain that she was changing her position on a daily basis.  Richard and I got pretty good at feeling my stomach trying to guess what position she was in.  At my 39 week appointment I was still just dilated to a 1, same place I had been since 36 weeks.  

Two days later, on September 1st, when I was 39 weeks and 2 days, Richard and I checked back into the hospital to be induced.  I woke up that morning feeling calm and excited and quite confident that this would be a fairly "easy" and routine delivery.  After all, I had done this three times before.  I have always been induced and each labor has gotten shorter and shorter.  In all honesty, I really thought she would be born around lunch time...and my OB thought the same thing.  She had joked with me at my last appointment that she had tickets to the Utah game that night and didn't want to miss it.  I assured her I would definitely be having the baby before kick off.  Wrong!

 Anyway, we checked into the hospital at 7:30 am.  It was slow going getting started, but I was just happy I would finally be having this baby!  My nurses got my IV going, I had an ultrasound and it was determined that she was head down, so by 9:30 they got the pitocin going and turned it on pretty high to get her moving down.  With all my other inductions I have just sat in the bed, but this time I wanted to move things along, plus my nurse, who I loved (her name was Becky) really encouraged me to get up and move around.  So for the next couple of hours I moved between walking, standing, and bouncing on the ball.  The contractions were coming fast, but not painful enough for an epidural and I was pretty optimistic.

At about 11:30 I got my epidural, which was great.  I wasn't really needing it yet, but I wanted it before they broke my water.  In Milwaukee, the anesthesiologist always had Richard leave my room while they placed the epidural.  This time though, he got to stay, which was great!  It was so nice having him rub my back and hold my hand, instead of a nurse talking me through it.  It took a while to place the epidural, but he eventually got it and things started getting nice and numb.  :)  

Once I was all situated in my bed, the residents came in to check me and break my water.  

I had only dilated to a 3, which was a bit discouraging, and Gretchen was still so high they didn't feel comfortable breaking my water.  Just a bit later, at 1:45 pm, the midwife came in who I had seen at my 38 week appointment.  She checked me and immediately knew Gretchen was no longer head down.  Before she even said anything I knew just by the look on her face.  I was so discouraged.  She left and came right back with an ultrasound, my second of the day.  Gretchen had completely turned and was almost breech.  Her head was up on my right side and she was in a diagonal with her bum down by my left hip.  They immediately turned off the pitocin and the midwife said she would be back with a plan.

This was SO disheartening.  I could not believe she had flipped around with all the contractions I had been having.  My uterus was contracting every two minutes!  My doctor came in soon after with the plan that they would try and turn her back to head down.  They figured I was a good candidate and that it was doable.  While we were waiting for things to get underway, the nurse did bring some scrubs in for Richard, just in case this all ended with a c-section.  During all of this I was so worried about the potential for a c-section, but my doctor never mentioned anything about it, so I kept trying to reassure myself with that. 

At 2:30 my room filled up with doctors, residents, nurses, and the anesthesiologist and I was prepped for an external version, yet again!  Fortunately, this time though they did the ultrasound before giving me the shot.  Good thing too because the ultrasound showed she had flipped back to head down!  I was so relieved, yet again!  They cranked the pitocin back up, turned my bed into a chair, and placed two wrapped towels on each side of my belly and put a wrap around it to give Gretchen less side to side room to move.  

This is when things started to get really hard for me.  It was 3:00, I was exhausted and starving, but I wasn't allowed to eat because of the potential for a c-section.  I was very uncomfortable in my bed that was like a chair.  I understood why they wanted me to sit straight up, but my position was not conducive to my epidural working very well and it was so hard to try and sleep sitting straight up.  

At about 3:45 my doctor and midwife came back in for another ultrasound, to check me, and to hopefully break my water if things looked good.  Thankfully, Gretchen was still head down, I had progressed to a 5, but Gretchen was still so high.  They opted to break my water anyway, carefully, with the ultrasound still monitoring Gretchen.  The hope was that when they broke my water it would help Gretchen drop and really speed things along.  Breaking my water went very smoothly, but Gretchen did not move down at all, and things did not pick up at all.  I did have TONS of water though.  It soaked my doctor's scrubs, and in the end my OB asked for a basin because I had completely soaked the towels.  :)  My OB later told the nurse she had never seen so much water come out of someone!  No wonder Gretchen was doing flips.  

So, here I was at 4:00, anxious, exhausted, starving, worried.  I had had all my babies before 4:00 and I was only dilated to a 5.  At 7:00 I said a sad good-bye to my wonderful nurse Becky.  She had prepped my room at like 11:00 am for the baby and now I was saying good-bye to her with no baby!  That was depressing.  I started to worry about my choice to be induced earlier than I ever had been before and I was quite concerned this would end up in a c-section.  

Soon after my new nurse started her shift, they had to turn off my pitocin and put me on oxygen.  My uterus was contracting so frequently and Gretchen wasn't handling the contractions as well as they wanted her to.  This was again such a blow to me.  The only good thing though is that I talked my new nurse into letting me lay on my side.  The epidural was not working well in my sitting position despite getting a bolus from the anesthesiologist earlier.  So even though the pitocin was off and I was on oxygen, at least I was laying down on my side and able to nap off and on.  After about an hour, Gretchen was doing better, so they took me off the oxygen and turned the pitocin back on. 

Finally, at 9:00 pm I had dilated to a 7.  I was very relieved, but things were starting to get pretty uncomfortable.  I started feeling so much pressure in my tailbone, and I knew from my experience with Rachel that meant I was ready to push.  Over the next hour I called my nurse in three times to check me, convinced I was ready to push this baby out.  Each time she was so kind, checked me, smiled, and said I was still a 7!  I couldn't believe it.  The pain was becoming almost intolerable, I was breathing through each contraction and squeezing the bed railing or Richard's hand.  I had maxed out my epidural and the anesthesiologists were in a c-section so I was out of luck.  

At 10:00, I believe it was Richard who finally pushed the button to call the nurse in to check me again.  The contractions were so painful and all I wanted to do was push.  All sorts of noises were coming out of my mouth-it was miserable!  The nurse came in and said I was at a 10 and asked me if I wanted to push; I answered with a resounding yes!  My room immediately turned into a buzz of excitement as a new attending came in (my OB was at the football game), a resident, a couple of nurses.  Things were in such a hurry Richard even helped the attending put her gown on.  Once everyone was ready they turned me from my side to my back, and while painful, I didn't quite have the same urgency to push.  I pushed through a few contractions, but clearly things looked different to them down there then they had earlier and they asked if I wanted to wait for my OB.  I reluctantly admitted that I did not have the same urgency so I would try and wait.  Every couple of minutes I did push through a contraction and they were great to sit there and wait with me.  Richard alternated between holding a leg and feeding me ice chips, that's a good husband.

At about 10:15 my OB arrived straight from the football game, which was good, because things were starting to get more painful again.  My epidural did a great job at making my legs completely numb (so numb that I couldn't get out of bed and had a catheter in until the next morning!), but it was not as good at making everything else numb if you know what I'm saying.  During my last few minutes of pushing I told Richard, "It has never hurt this bad before!"  Geez.  It was painful.  Thankfully, after just several minutes of pushing with my OB, little Gretchen was born into the world at 10:24 pm.  

The physical relief I felt was astounding, but also the emotional relief was huge.  This pregnancy was my hardest in all ways, and the labor and delivery was hands down my hardest also.  To hear her cry, and see her, and have her resting on my chest within a minute brought so much relief to me physically and emotionally.  

She spent probably close to an hour just laying on me.  It took a while for them to stitch me up, and even though that was painful, I just focused on this new little girl with chubby, chubby cheeks.  She was so alert during that time and hardly cried.  It was a beautiful time.  After I was put back together they weighed her, measured her, and cleaned her up a bit more and then I was able to nurse her.  It took her a few minutes to get the hang of it, but she ended up doing great.  After all of that Richard got some time with her.  I love seeing him hold our newborns.  Those are some of my favorite pictures of him.

Finally at 1:00 am I was wheeled into my recovery room.  What a day.  I have always wondered what it would be like to have a baby at night.  Now I know.  Exhausting!  It was quite a day, one I never would have predicted!  We are thrilled she is here and we love, love, love her dearly.

And lastly, I have to mention something about Richard.  With all my past deliveries, which have been rather uneventful, he and I have kind of done our own thing until the end.  Usually I nap in bed, read magazines, and watch tv while he sits in a chair on his ipad.  He is always great to get things for me and support me, but things have been so "easy".  This time though, as things were so challenging and at times worrisome, Richard was right there with me, so attentive and involved.  He kept a close eye on the monitors, talked to me, calmed me down, looked stuff up, and kept apologizing for my misery!  He was so supportive and involved the entire day, and it was really quite wonderful to go through something so exceptionally hard with him by my side.  He definitely saw me at some low points that day, I was so vulnerable  and felt so much emotion.  It was just so wonderful to have him there with me every step of the way.  I sure love him and this family we have created together.  

Homesick

I am posts and posts behind about our life, but I have a few minutes to write, and I need to.

Just this afternoon, Rachel caught me off guard and came to me crying.  She was crying because she told me this was not our house.  Stab to the heart.  She hasn't had this problem since mid-July...and here we are two months later, and for some reason, this concern of her's has resurfaced.  

At the time, Gretchen was crying, so I consoled her first.  Meanwhile, Rachel made her way upstairs to her bedroom, crying.  After I calmed Gretchen down, I went upstairs and Rachel and I just snuggled on the couch, at her request.  She calmed down as soon as I picked her up and wrapped her in her two favorite blankets.  As we sat on the couch together, my mind turned to our little green house on 121st St. in Wauwatosa.  Mentally, I walked through each room, and I had a deep longing for the comfort of those walls and the familiarity of that house.  

Those thoughts led to all our friends who we left behind there.  It hurt to think that none of them have seen Gretchen.  I miss the warmth, familiarity, and friendship we had with neighbors there.  And I desperately miss Anna and Lara.  I have been more than taken care of by my mom and sister-in-law since having Gretchen, but I desperately miss having two amazing friends just blocks from my house who usually seemed to know what I needed even before I did.  

Sigh.  Moving is hard.  Overall, I think we are adjusting fairly well.  But it is moments like these that punch me in the stomach and make me realize we are all still trying to settle into this new life.

Rachel's Birthday

Due to Rachel's crazy weekend, her birthday was a little more low-key than planned, but still great.  I mean, she turned three, she really doesn't need a whole lot!

We kicked off the morning by opening presents.  Rachel was delighted.  One funny thing to note and that I always want to remember...

The night before Rachel completely lost it and cried for probably a good 40 minutes.  Blame it on extreme lack of sleep at regular hours.  So, when she woke up on the morning of her birthday her face and eyes, especially, were SO puffy.  It must have been a combination of all the fluids that had been pumped into her the day before and all of her crying the night before.  Her extremely squishy face had us all laughing, but sweet Rachel didn't care, she was just delighted to be opening presents.

All of her signs and the helium balloons were from the hospital!  We usually do our own, but I was so tired from everything we just recycled the signs.  Thank you Primary Childrens!

Rachel and I stayed home from church that day just to give her one more day to re-cooperate.  She enjoyed a full day playing and playing and playing.  

That night we went to my parents' house for dinner and birthday cake.  

I love this girl!

 Rachel wrapped up her birthday evening with her favorite cousin, Jaxon.  These two go absolutely crazy together and love each other dearly.  

Here's hoping next year's birthday goes a little more as planned!

Scare #2

Our second health scare was with Rachel, the weekend of her third birthday, poor girl!  

On Thursday, August 4th, my mom had had my kids and Jaxon over for a sleepover at her house.  From all accounts, it went flawlessly, I was so relieved.  However, I got to her house just after 10:00 am on Friday to pick them up only to discover that Rachel had just woken up for the morning, taken a drink of water, and thrown up.  When I walked in the door she was sitting on my mom's lap and just looked so pale and miserable.  It was so sad.  

After getting packed up, she and I headed home and my mom kept Marshall and Bridget for a bit just so I could get Rachel home and settled.  Rachel spent the rest of her day on the couch, looking quite pale, sleeping a lot, but she only threw up a couple of more times until late afternoon.  I kept thinking she would perk up and turn the corner, but she never did.  

At 4:15 pm she started throwing up again and threw up nine times in the next seven hours.  About 8:00 pm I started to think she was turning the corner though and I was less worried.  Richard had picked up Gatorade on his way home from work and we were giving her a teaspoon every five minutes and she kept that down for almost two hours.  But, come 10:00 pm she was throwing up again.  At this point though, I was still quite confident that if we could just get her to sleep for the night, that she could have a good night's sleep and would wake up as good as new in the morning.  

We made her a bed on our bedroom floor because I wanted her close to us and I laid down with her until she fell asleep.  After we went to bed though she threw up three more times, all because she was SO thirsty, but as soon as she would drink, Gatorade or water, she would just throw it right back up.  

The last time she threw up was 12:50 am and while we were cleaning it up, she had slumped downstairs and I found her trying to open a box of cereal and get water.  It was so heart-wrenching!  She was so pale and so shaky, but just kept throwing up every single mild thing that she put in her mouth.  It was then I knew we had to take her to the ER; we weren't going to make it through the night like this.

Richard helped us get ready and Rachel and I got up to Primary Children's at 1:45 am.  Every nurse, resident, and attending who came in commented on how terrible she looked.  

It took until about 3:30 in the morning to get her on Zofran, IV fluids, and have her blood and urine drawn for samples.  She just dozed off and on until then.  

When all of that finally got underway, the only thing she winced at was the catheter, but it was hardly a fight.  The nurses commented that that is how you know how sick a kid is, how much fight they put up when they are stuck with all sorts of needles.  :(

Once she had Zofran and was on IV fluids, she finally settled into a deep sleep.  

At about 4:30 am the resident and attending came in and told me that Rachel's blood sugar was 28, which is dangerously low.  A child her age should have a blood sugar between 100 and 200 and that anything below 60 is considered dangerous.  The attending was shocked that Rachel hadn't had a seizure or anything more serious.  Because of this, they admitted her to the hospital and also gave her a bolus of sugar directly into her IV.  They also replaced her regular IV fluids with basically sugar water.  

Finally just after 6:00 am we were moved to a regular hospital room, which I very much appreciated!  We had a bathroom in our room and a bed for me.  Considering I had hardly slept all night, that bed was a welcome sight.  

While we were still in the ER, they kept trying to wake Rachel up, but she never, ever opened her eyes.  She was completely wiped out and slept straight from 3:30 am until 10:30 am, bed and room transfers and all.  

When she woke up at 10:30 she started talking and was so happy to finally be able to drink something.  She snacked on a few crackers and was able to keep everything down.  A huge relief!  

Shortly after noon they stopped her IVs (after getting four bags of fluid) because they wanted to make sure she could eat and drink on her own and maintain her blood sugar.  My mom also came up to visit us and bring me lunch and important things like my toothbrush and Rachel very much enjoyed a visit from her.  

Once she left Rachel and I snuggled up in bed for an afternoon nap.  We were both SO tired!  Around 3:00 we were discharged because Rachel had done well enough on her own.  I was so glad to be going home and Rachel was delighted to have the IV taken out of her hand!

The staff at Primary Children's was all so great.  They all knew it was her birthday the next day and made sure to send her home with balloons, cards, and stuffed animals.  Rachel was in heaven.  She especially loved the wagon ride she got out of the hospital and was shocked to discover the sun was shining when we walked out of the doors.  She clearly didn't realize how long she had been in the hospital!

We got home about 4:00 on Saturday afternoon feeling very dirty and exhausted, but so happy to be home.  Due to the fiasco of the weekend, we had to cancel her family birthday party which was scheduled for that night, but she didn't care and was just thrilled to be home.  

Thankfully, she continued to drink great and her appetite finally picked up on Monday afternoon.  She's healed up nicely and hasn't looked back.  Thank goodness for modern medicine!