Bittersweet memory

Several years ago I was in Las Cruces with my family for a late Thanksgiving. It is always a good time when we get together, but better still, knowing I was pregnant with our fourth child. Some of us got sick, just a cold- it was nothing to keep us from enjoying the occasion. Pregnancy was a part of life by now and living with the symptoms of the early weeks was familiar. I spent one day laying around on the air mattress feeling terrible before we left for home.
On the car ride home I noticed an uncomfortable itching on my elbow and forearm. When I changed into my pajamas that night I noticed the rash.
My life has turned on a dime several times in my life but only twice because of illness. This was the first. The next day I called my family Dr. to tell him about the rash and that I needed to be seen. When I told them I was pregnant they cut me off-

"You'll need to be seen by an OB/GYN"

"He is my family Dr. and has delivered all of our other children. I don't have another OB." I answer

"I can refer you to one, or you can go to the emergency room." she mutters, sans feeling.

"It's not an emergency, I just need to be seen for the rash."

"I'm sorry, but we cannot see you if you are pregnant."

I hang up feeling extremely depressed. It was a feeling that would only deepen as I tried to schedule an appointment with an OB that I had never seen before. New patient appointments stretched three weeks into the future.
Every inch of my body was covered in this unfamiliar, lacey rash. My joints ached terribly and I could barely move. We decided it was time to go to the emergency room, silly or not.

In the emergency room they drew my blood for every test known to man. Apparently my condition was too rare to be diagnosed by an emergency room doctor. I lay there for two hours. They checked the baby through ultrasound and she was fine. They couldn't decide what to do with me but to tell me to take some Tylenol and they got me in to see an OB the following week.

The day of my first OB visit with Dr. Ranka was bad. They examined me and decided to draw blood for a Parvovirus B-19 titer. It came back "high". High means bad. High means do an ultrasound. "Fifth's Disease." Such a dumb name.

Anyone who has had an ultrasound during pregnancy knows what they're looking at. When I saw our tiny baby laying lifeless at the bottom of the screen I knew her journey was over. There was no heartbeat, and for a moment, I had lost a few too. Dr. Ranka touched me lightly on the knee and said, "I don't have to tell you, I know." I wished I had Tod there with me instead of home with the other kids. I wished I could roll back the clock and tell the doctors in the emergency room what they were missing, not that it would help. I wished I didn't have to drive home through my tears and tell my loving husband that my being sick had cost our baby its life.
Everything happened so quickly. They scheduled a time for me to go into the hospital. I wandered like a swollen-eyed zombie out into the waiting room, papers in hand. The looks of the nameless people in the waiting room said it all- pain, loss, suffering, confusion, fear, and dread.

Miscarriage. Such a dumb name. I carried her as well as I knew how. I prayed for her and loved her and planned for her as well as any of our other kids. There were few words about it between Tod and I. I handed him the stupid pamphlet on coping with the loss of a child and it said it all to him. He was my rock, my mouthpiece when I was too overwhelmed to speak. He held my hand as I was wheeled into the operating room and when I was wheeled out to the car- babyless, empty and beaten.

If there is a word to describe those dark days in my life, it would be "void". As painful as it is to describe again, I was jerked back there yesterday when I was reading a blog recommended by a friend. She of course had no idea what it would mean to me. The woman who writes this blog was describing the life of her young son, a survivor of in utero Fifth's disease. It was amazing to hear what our baby's future could have held if she had survived. The body shuts down in an attempt to maintain the organs. Bone marrow, red blood cells and limbs are sacrificed in an attempt to preserve the brain, heart and lungs. Needless to say, complications after birth are many and difficult.

While we grieve still for the loss of this beloved child, she is blessed to know a perfect body, never feeling the weight of imperfection. She will never face the challenges that survivors of this devastating disease feel. While I cannot hold her in my arms as I do my other children, I know that she is being held in the most loving of arms, more perfect than my own, waiting for the day when we will all be together again. I hope my arms do not disappoint.

I feel bonded to this mother in an indescribable way. She battles this demon daily as I do.

I don't want to sound whiney, not by any means. This story is only awakened because of my reading that blog. I don't want to punish any of you, because in a way this is a story of hope. It is a story about how just because something is taken away, it is not our fault. We are all given a life, short or long to do something great. My family is eternal, all 9 of us. We all have our struggles and none is any smaller or greater than another's, it is all based on what we are capable of dealing with, with grace. That is what makes this a bittersweet memory. I am stronger. God was training me to deal with pain so that I could survive my own struggles and be here for the 5 kiddos that need me. I have learned to never take the Lord's timing for granted. His sight is perfect, but mine is only 20/20 at best ;)

Josh, and proof that it's all about the Gatorade

Thursday night was the first time this season we were able to give undivided attention to Josh's baseball game. Frequently we attend games in baseball limbo, trapped between Aaron and Josh's fields.

There is this long standing joke in our house about Josh and his bladder...never mind that this post will be extremely humiliating for Josh, but at least he's too young to date! So anyway, Josh has a bladder the size of a walnut. Not a big walnut either. The first stop for Josh after warm-ups is the Gatorade cooler. Then there is usually half an inning where he is in the field an thus kept away from his precious Gatorade, but as soon as they get back to the dugout they are reunited with reckless abandon. Let's do the physics- half a gallon of Gatorade v. Walnut Bladder...who will win out? It doesn't matter that he goes before we leave the house or whether or not he is warned about the above physics equation, the Gatorade is irresistible. In the second or third inning bladder failure is imminent. We see the dance begin.

"Here we go again." Tod says.
"It's absurd. Do you think he has any idea what he looks like?" I ask.
"Obviously not."
"I'm going to take a picture!" I say, and jump up, camera at the ready.
"Doesn't it have a video setting?" he reminds me with a sly grin.

I think Josh thought it was a candid shot of him at third base, but sometimes proof is a decent deterrant. This is a little video I like to call, "One out to go"
Some kids will never learn! Sorry about the shaking, you know our west Texas wind.

Charlie Brown and cilantro

Okay, I have nothing of particular interest to post today, unless you want to hear about Leah squirting all my moisturizer down the sink. So in lieu of real news or something profound I thought I would post something for Amy's benefit.

Today we had a going-away-lunch for a few sisters in the ward. Gotta love Rosa's under any circumstances! So I sat with Amy and her adorable little guy, Landon, who I lovingly refer to as Charlie Brown. He is the best little eater, it's too bad his mother won't give him guacamole or sopapillas- Rookie! But she did think it would be funny to let him try cilantro- this kid ate it up! Wow, some kids really will eat anything.

After we got home Leah asked if we could watch Twilight again. Yes, she asked, you assumed it was my idea didn't you? She looked so angry while she was watching that I thought I'd ask why. She told me she was being a vampire.

"I'm a killer, Bewwa" she told me, with her speech impediment, and made this face...

Apparently she is working on her tortured, brooding teenage vampire face. Unsettling isn't it?

You give me fever...

This week has been full of fever! Baseball has come again and Aaron is loving it. Aaron started his games a couple weeks ago and Josh starts his this week. It never ceases to amaze me how much joy it provides to see your kids doing something they love. Aaron lives baseball- he eats it, breathes it, and dreams of it. Josh likes it- big difference! Josh is all about the gum and the gatorade and Aaron wants a certain bat for his birthday. So cute to see the athletic swagger even at 11. They had private lessons this past weekend and it just fueled the fire. As soon as they have their season schedule I will post it.
On a more painful note, we are going through strep for the fourth time since the beginning of the year. Tod is getting his tonsils out on the 15th and hopefully that will be a big step in the right direction. He actually succeeded in getting me sick this time. Oh the misery! Combine a vicious case of strep sore throat with my TN, and you get a pain that is nearly indescribable. I had a blessing Friday night and it has been steadily better since. I am so thankful for worthy priesthood holders both in my husband and friends, and a friend generous enough to come over at a moment's notice.
Wish me luck in tackling my immense pile of laundry tomorrow!

Dog update and rumble at WalMart

We have had the new dog for a little over a week and all is well. He seems to be getting used to our schedule and the terrain of the house. He still gets special treatment, including B-12 shots once a week to boost his appetite. Jack just belongs here.
On another note, my friend Anna came down from Oklahoma for Spring Break ( and to watch Twilight on the big screen). We went out to eat before the release and then headed over to Walmart to wait for the movie to go on sale. There was a short line, and we waited for about an hour. The line filled in behind us, maybe 150 people. As the clock hit 12:00 and then passed it, patience in the line was in short supply. All of a sudden a scream came from down the aisle- they were wheeling it out- uncovered! Morons! Don't they know what people are capable of? So Anna ran down the aisle to try and get copies from the display on the other side of the store. As the display approached my side, it was obvious that the masses had picked its carcass nearly clean. Not only were there only a fraction of the movies left, but none of the "special edition" copies could be seen. Panic! Everyone rushed the line and I was pushed and pulled from every direction. Not to be discouraged, I went for the floor. There were copies left on the bottom- they were mine. I grabbed 2 and made a run for it. I was unharmed, thankfully. We got into the checkout and raced home to watch it again in the home theater. It was great. And definitely worth scrapping for!

Lucky Number 7

Okay, that's not his name, but until we come up with one it will do. Who is more lucky- the dog who is past the puppy years but is perfect, or the family that finds him?

This is our new little friend, brought home from a pet rescue today. We finally wore Tod down to the point that he knew resistance was futile. When we called him to tell him we found the perfect dog, he didn't believe us but was willing to give it a go. Number 7 was in a crate away from the other dogs because he was so timid. Even though he was completely quiet and motionless at the time, he was calling us to him. I never knew a young dog could be so calm and patient. There's nothing better than bringing home a dog that is house trained, crate trained, and ready for some love. He is warming up little by little, even wagging his tail tonight. And as an added point of irony, his favorite place to sleep so far has been at Tod's feet...apparently he is on a mission of his own- to bring Tod into the dog lover's fold ;)

Lovin' Laundry

In church on Sunday I was teaching my Laurels about finding joy in our divine purpose. This was a little tough for me. When I started college, I had no idea I would shortly be married and continually pregnant for ten years. There was no way I was going to waste my intelligence on mundane household chores and motherhood. I wanted to be a doctor and help people every day. I wanted to feel the satisfaction of going to bed after a hard day's work, knowing that I had been challenged but not beaten. I wanted the approval and praise of my peers for a job well done.
So here i am trying to sell the experience of wife and motherhood to a group of 17 year old girls.
At first it seemed a hard sell, trying to find a reason to get excited about laundry-
As soon as i began though, it was so clear. My intelligence, although not focused on memorization of diseases and cures is always put to the test. You'd be surprised by what an 11 year old will try.
I do help people every single day.
I work hard, I break a sweat- and I always go to bed tired, never beaten.
The peer I value the most is always proud of me and would do anything to reward me for my hard work.
So as I encouraged the girls, I encouraged myself. Yesterday I cleaned my kids bathroom. This was a challenge to find joy in. It was an abomination. I would have taken a picture, but I'd never get company again. I kept repeating to myself that it was fulfilling. My kids will be healthier if this is cleaner. They will be more likely to brush their teeth if they can spit in a shiny sink. They will know I care about them because I'm taking care of them.
Today doing laundry I looked for more reasons to be happy. My kids smell good when they climb into my lap with their clothes smelling like Downy. People won't think we live in a zoo if they look clean. Wrapping up in a soft towel after a shower is always nice.
So I challenge you to do the same. Okay, even if it is cheesy or really out there, you'd be surprised how much better these boring jobs go if you spend your time doing this. Let me know how it works!