Dad: as told by me

I am an eligibility worker with the Department of Social Services in my county on the adult unit. We process and maintain ongoing Long Term Care for cases that have an adult active on the case. Today, while taking the closed files for my team to our closed records room, I came across the file of my father-in-law with a blue sticker across it that read, 'DECEASED.' I was not prepared for the flood of emotions and tears that followed. He passed away in his sleep at home on September 26, 2013 around 2am. I guess its like the saying goes that sometimes you do not feel a cut until you see it as your brain hasn't processed it yet. Seeing that note made my brain process his passing all over again. I work with my mom, so I took the file, went to her office and closed the door, and cried on her shoulder for what seemed like forever.

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The first date I had with my eventual husband twelve years ago, I also met his parents. I told his dad that I was going to marry his son (yes, that same day). And he laughed. Not in a "wow, you are a fatal attraction" way but more so "okay, if those are your plans, hopefully it pans out that way." That was the way that dad was. Never condescending. Never mean. Never negative.

Dad was an amazing man. Ask anyone. I have never heard anyone utter a bad word about him and in all of the years that I have known him, I can't think of anything bad to say about him. He became a Christian later in life and brought his family that consisted of his wonderful wife and three boys to know Christ through not only His words but his actions. The fingerprints of God covered his body and everything that he did. He was friends with any and everyone; it did not matter your background or your current situation. 

In May 2007, he had his first stroke. He was in New York for work and about to board the Amtrac. He had the stroke and an ambulance was called who insisted that he be taken to a hospital but he adamantly refused. At that same time, my mother in law (whom I call momma) and husband were headed home to Virginia from my college graduation in Tennessee. The 7.5 hour trip was sprinkled with all kinds of issues with their vehicle whichever dad was kept abreast of by momma. He refused Togo to the hospital in New York because his wife and son were headed to Union Station in D.C. To pick him up and he did not want them to stress any more than they already had by finding that he wasn't there when they arrived. So they put him in a wheelchair and put him on the train.

This is one of my favorite stories about him. He was so concerned about his wife and son not stressing anymore that he risked his health to be with them. That is love. That is sacrifice.

When the train arrived and he was taken off of the train in the wheelchair. An ambulance was called and he was taken to the hospital I met everyone at the hospital that night. Before we had to leave as visiting hours came to a close, dad asked momma to go home to get a good rest and asked her to bring something back for him: his Bible on tape and a Walkman to play it.as most know, a stroke effects the left side of the body. Without the use of his left side, dad would not be able to adequately hold his hefty Bible. He followed this short lesson with this statement: "isn't it amazing how God made our bodies?" This coming from a man who suffered a debilitating stroke four hours before seeking medical treatment to spare the feelings of his loved ones.

By the time he passed, the number of strokes had surpassed 10 and were coupled with the occasional heart attack and early signs of dementia. He went from using a quad and, to a walker, to a manual wheelchair, to an electric scooter sand eventually not being able to complete bed rest in the hospital bed set in his room and cared for by a nurse. This wonderful man was changing. Did his spirit diminish? I would like to say no but with so many health issues, so many medications, so little of "the old you" remaining, I wish that I could say that he was exempt. But I don't believe that his spirit diminish, just less of it was shown to us and more of it was present with God. As Christians, we believe that we ware not of this world and this is not our home. Dad was no longer fully here as he was preparing his forever home.

Momma had 45 years of marriage, my husband had 28 years of his dad (while his brothers had 42 and 32 years), and I had the pleasure of knowing him for 12 years. Anyone did not know him truly missed out on an amazing friend. He was the definition of a hard worker. As loyal as they come. Compassionate and truly heartbroken for the things that broke Jesus's heart.

 

Tonight's Insomnia Brought to you by the Letter "G"

For as long as I can remember, I have had difficulty sleeping, whether it is falling asleep or staying asleep. I honestly do not remember the last time I have had more than a few hours of undisturbed rest without some sort of sleep aide. Most of it is attributed to the fact that I am a very light sleeper and the slightest noises can wake me up. In the past few years, it is more so due to my mind wandering. As I have admitted to before, I am a professional procrastinator which causes me to think about all of the things that I have been putting off well into the wee hours of the morning. But most recently, I find myself waking up because my husband is not home. He works overnights (10p to 7a) and has a lunch break at 2a. When he comes home for lunch, I like to be awake. I like to spend that short hour with him because we don't have much time during the week from the time I get off work to when he has to go in. Also, I have a very small idea of how hard it is to be up at night when others are asleep (memories of youth group lock-ins). I can admit that it is selfish but I really hate to be up when other people aren't (even though this only applies when I have to be up when working on a project or unable to sleep, for instance, and not when I want to).  I don't want to discourage him during his break when he still has the other half of his shift to complete. This causes issues when my alarm creeps on at 6a and I have just found a good sleeping groove about 15 minutes prior to that. Ugh! 

Well, tonight, this morning, whatever you want to call it, I am up because I think my mind was going nuts. I was wide awake at 2:06 when he came home and now, here is it 4:50a and I unfortunately see no more sleep in my immediate future. So I will share with you an article that I came across while failing to lull myself back into a slumber with the guidance of Internet surfing. It is an article from www.buzzfeed.com about the different ways that fruits and veggies grow. Some are known but others are pretty interesting such as the picture below which is a fruit and the green nub on the bottom is actually a cashew. So, if so inclined, click the link below the picture to see 27 other examples.

How Veggies and Fruits Grow

I'm Still pregnant but I've Lost My Baby Weight and am Devastated

As I was getting ready for work this morning, I noticed that my stomach was flat. I went to the mirror and looked again only to have it verified. And the sadness crept until it enveloped me like a familiar jacket that I hadn't worn in a bit.

I guess I should preface this by saying that I had a miscarriage about 3 and a half weeks ago. We found out that we were expecting on October 29th. I have never been pregnant but I knew immediately. After three tests (all with two lines but the second line was faint), my husband still wasn't as convinced so we scheduled a doctor appointment. I'm unsure why he wasn't convinced since it seemed like as soon as the we took the home tests, I started to have all-day morning sickness. The earliest appointment was for November 12th which ended up being two of the longest weeks I have ever had to wait. But I was rewarded when my doctor told me that my positive results came back the quickest she has ever seen. Based on my Beta levels, I was about 7 weeks along. I set out with all of the important plans: how to tell my side of the family and my husband's brothers (we live with my mother-in-law so she already knew when we took the tests), when to release it on social media (FaceBook and Instagram the mediums of choice), what blogs to start following in order to save the most money and know what things we needed to buy, purchasing clothes that I can wear during and after the pregnancy as I have always been against maternity-specific clothing only because I am cheap (I even considered opening a boutique for that specific purpose). You name it, I thought about it and planned it within that 30 minute doctor appointment. I was all smiles on the way home:

My husband's birthday was November 18th and that is when I posted the following picture on Instagram and FaceBook:

So the waiting game began. I think when I said that I went through every blog possible, I was not giving a true estimation. I went completely manic. I was convinced that by the time my little love bug came into the world, all of the diapers and wipes he or she would need for the first year and a half of his life (as I planned on having him or her potty trained by that time) would be purchased. I would only register for things that I would need as they grew such as baby-making food machines and devices, clothes for toddlers, and shoes. I know, pretty weird but I really wanted our first year together to be something that I planned to the best of my ability and to prove to myself that I could do it without the assistance of others (other than my husband). I wanted to be able to provide for this baby. I have been apprehensive about being a parent anyway so it was weird goal of mine. But leave it to amazing friends and family to throw those plans off. I was already receiving gifts for me and baby by the time I met with my OB/GYN on November 26th. My husband and I were so excited to have the ultrasound done and to see out little growing love. We saw two developing egg sacs. My husband immediately started to think of another name to go along with ones we were considering while I wondered how two babies were going to fit in my 4'7" body. There was a concern: they were measuring small. The doctor said that this happens with twins and sometimes the second sac can still be "absorbed" back into the mother's body as most pregnancies begin as two. Not off-putting at all. So he told us to come back next week to have another ultrasound to see if the sacs continue to grow as two or if there is just one. He ordered some lab work and then we were off to try to hold on to the secret of the possibility of twins until we were sure. But when we are excited, we are like sieves so the secret got out to our family pretty quickly. Ou next appointment on December 5th and we were so excited at the possibility of twins as it seemed more real each day. I mean, how could you not think there were twins when you belly looks like this at just 10 weeks:

And the it all shattered. During the ultrasound, there was no longer any fetal pull and there was no heartbeat. Come again?! My belly has grow tremendously in just a week, I have been eating everything under the moon that is within the healthy limits, I am able to drink a camel under the table compared to how much water I consume, I took my multivitamin daily (although it made me sick almost every time), I have sworn off heels, and I elevated my legs at every chance; what did I do wrong? All this was going through my mind while my doctor assured me that it did not appear to be an issue with me or my husband but just something that 3 out of 10 women go through. I don't think it really hit me until he said "miscarriage." And then I cried. I tried to hold it in as best as possible but tremors shook through me and they escaped. He asked us to come back again next week as it is possible that, since they are measuring smaller (around 6 weeks), it could be that their heart just hasn't fully formed just yet as it develops in the 5th week. So the week passed slowly which I was both grateful for as I dreaded hearing any negative news but was anxious to know something. I contacted my Inner Loves, my group of closest friends who I knew would be on their knees in prayer for us. We told our immediate family and the young adults group that we are a part of at church. I also told my boss at work. When I first became pregnant, she shared with me her personal struggles with miscarriages (2 total in between the birth of her now young adult children) so I knew I was not only telling her to explain the amount of sick leave that I kept using but to also have her as a prayer warrior. 

On December 10th, it was confirmed. My doctor wanted to ensure that it was not something else (such as a molar pregnancy) so he suggested a D & C so that he could take the "tissue," as they were no longer referred to as my babies, to pathology. It was scheduled for Tuesday, December 17th. On December 13th, I had a 30-minute pre-screening with the nurse at the hospital, December 16th was the pre-op going to the hospital for lab work and instructions on what not to do (which included not eating anything from Midnight until after my surgery the next day at 3pm). I decided to go to work the morning of December 17th as I needed something to keep my mind occupied. I also did not know when I would be back to work and wanted to get things in order. We went to the hospital and everything happened fairly quickly. I did not register what was happening until the nurse asked, while putting in my IV, to state why I was there (a standard question ensuring I am the right person and of sound mind). I explained that it was for a D & C for my miscarriage and I apologized to her for crying. Again time seemed to speed by and my concept of everything only caught hold when the anesthesiologist came in to administer the anesthesia. The next thing I remember is waking up to the most handsome face I have ever seen. He helped me get dressed, put me in the wheelchair, and helped me into the car. He then helped me into our home and into our bed where I stayed until Thursday. 

Once we told all of our close friends, I went to social media to let people know that their well-wishes posted on my wall and news feed were not being ignored:

The last few weeks have been filled with more doctor appointments than I care for as the healing process has been horrible and the pain management has been ineffective despite being on Percocet, Oxycodone, and Motrin. I have been to the emergency room once, spoken with the physician on call over the weekend twice, and seen my doctor three times since the procedure. The last appointment on December 30th found that my Beta levels are still very high meaning that the HGC, or pregnancy hormone, was still prevalent in my blood and registering me as technically still pregnant. Unfortunately, this meant that there is also a possibility that there was residual placenta left behind and they may need to do a repeat D & C. Awesome. 

So  that is unfortunately where it stands. The second D & C still has to be scheduled. I have been high as a kite on prescription medication that doesn't completely stop the physical pain. The emotional pain is so deep (one of the things that no amount of planning could have prepared me for). There are times when I can talk about it and I am fine and then there are times, like this evening, when an episode of The Simpsons had a pregnant woman going into labor and I was completely uninterested. My soul has mourned this loss. I am constantly putting up a front because I do not want anyone to take pity on me or seem that I am seeking sympathy. Plus, others have their own issues and pain to deal with. Even when it comes to my husband, I know that he mourns in his own way and that this has affected him greatly as well and I don't want my pain to be projected onto him. So I take a lot of showers because it masks the sound of my sobs and I don't have to answer questions about what's wrong (primarily, is it an emotional or physical pain, as both have been in abundance). And I can cry out to Jesus about my saddness over the fact that the 10 weeks I had with my babies was not the reality I was hoping for, my concern that this may happen again, and my frustration over not knowing how to completely overcome the first two. 

It is not all bad as it has been bearable thanks to our friends and family who have had our little family constantly in God's ear in prayer and who have been so supportive through verbal and nonverbal actions. When I tell you that I have never felt so comforted to work in an agency where they are about 150 women and 10 men. I have had so many come up to hug me, ask how I was dealing, and share their own stories of miscarriage and what helped them. When my doctor said 3 out of 10 women, he had no idea that this exclusive club was growing. I can honestly say that the only women who approached me who had not had a miscarriage were those women who had not even tried to become pregnant before (i.e., single ladies, newlyweds that weren't ready for that milestone, etc.). And that was only a handful of women. "I've had 3,"..... 4,""....7!" "After 21 weeks,""..... after 34 weeks,"".....a stillborn!" These women are phenomenal and I know that Jesus put each of them in my life for different reasons but this seems to be the biggest and I am so grateful. 

So even though my heart is heavy, my woman parts are in such pain, and my stomach is now flat, I am content in knowing that I have a group of friends and family that are outstanding, a Father in Heaven who is looking out for me, and that one day, my husband and I will be parents, wether it is biologically, surrogacy, fostering, or adoption.