Don't Wait to Celebrate

Over the weekend, my sister was surprised with a birthday party in her honor.  When talking through party details with her husband, one comment he made stuck with me: she deserves a party.  This year, it was totally true.

My sister was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect in the fall of 2012 that was treated at the end of last year.  Now she's got a properly wired heart and ready to hit up the marathon circuit again.

As adults, we don't celebrate every birthday with a huge shindig the way we did when we were kids.  Ask most moms what they did on their actual birthday and you'll probably get a list of chores, plus hopefully a nice dinner thrown in.  But on those "significant" birthdays (things ending in 5's and 0's), we might do something a little more note-worthy, something a little more extravagant.  But it seems so arbitrary.

Might I suggest instead not waiting to celebrate at those pre-determined intervals?  Just because Hallmark makes a card specific to individuals turning 50 makes it no more valuable a birthday than those turning 49.

Just as an aside to my beautiful, young, and vibrant sister: This is merely an example, and I am not insinuating that you are 49.  However, to my brother that is 49: you are also beautiful handsome, young, and vibrant.

I'm so grateful my brother-in-law had the insight to throw a party in spite of the fact that this year isn't a nice round number.  This year was an especially great time to celebrate her life.

How I Met Your Mother Day

Barney Stinson may celebrate "Not a Father's Day," but we celebrated How I Met Your Mother Day here.  

It started with the secret plans of our 5-year-old to make me breakfast in bed.  She's not the most discreet and when you add in comments like "Mommy, you're going to need to sleep in a lot tomorrow," you kinda know what's going on.  Along with the sweet card she made at preschool, Georgia brought me How I Met Your Mother Season 5.  

It's my favorite tv show, but I'm sure I am rapidly approaching the age when the innuendos stop going over my daughters' heads.  Thankfully for this Mother's Day, we aren't there yet.  Amusingly, Georgia kept mixing up the name of the holiday and has renamed it How I Met Your Mother Day.  

So after a day full of pancakes in bed, lunch with the in-laws, a birthday party (yup, we went to a classmate's party too), I'm back at home and watching my beloved show.  If this is how I spent every Mother's Day, I'd be pretty stoked.  

And just an aside to my daughters, please don't date Barney.  

What to Expect From a D&C

Super huge disclaimer: I'm not a doctor.  I'm just a totally regular momma who had to have a D&C.  The purpose of writing this is I wanted to know what to expect when having a D&C, and the internet in all its internet-ly glory provided answers.

One thing to point out was I had a choice of whether to have a D&C or not.  The drawback of not having one would mean waiting for things to happen naturally, which could have been another few weeks.  Since I had already been waiting for a month, I just wanted to move on.  I just wanted to be done.  I know now, weeks later, it was the right choice for me.

Two days prior to having a D&C, I had a barrage of tests.  Blood, urine, IQ...well, maybe not the last one.  I'm not queasy about any of that stuff, thanks to years of donating blood.

The D&C: My husband and I arrived at the hospital at 5:30 A.M.  An admitting nurse had a few more forms for us to fill out & sign.  Since I had already pre-registered, it took less than ten minutes.  Matt wasn't allowed to come with me initially when I was taken back into the surgical ward.  Once the IV was done, he came back to hang out.

After seeing the doctor and anesthesiologist, I was ready to go.  Wheeling down the corridors of the hallway were a little nerve-racking.  I had read all of the documentation provided in advance, but I was going through the same steps as the dude with prostate cancer or the lady getting her torn something or other repaired.   What I didn't expect was how surgical the actual day would be.

We had conflicting estimates about the duration of the procedure.  Honestly, it was about 10 minutes.  Matt didn't have time to start worrying before the doctor came to tell him everything was over and went well.  Within a few hours, we were on our way home.

Recovery:  I slept off the anesthesia for a few hours from the comfort of my couch.  I had been shown a pain scale with happy and not-so-happy faces.  Leaving the hospital, I was about a 3 out of 10.  Uncomfortable, but nowhere near miserable.  Some over the counter generic ibuprofen was totally enough.  However, for the first two days I was bummed when the ibuprofen started running out because of cramping.

There is some bleeding after having a D&C.  It varies from a few days to few weeks, depending on the person.  It's the universe's way of making up for not having to have a period while I was pregnant, I guess.  Laaaaame.

Life After:  Now that I'm a month out from the whole ordeal, I really am confident I made the right choice for me.  Of course, that doesn't make it the right choice for everyone.  It gave me an opportunity to start moving on at a time when I desperately needed to move on.  Life's back to normal, and that's a really comforting thing.

I have the ultrasound pictures the technician gave me at our first ultrasound.  I just can't throw them away.  Actually, they're in my purse.  Not because I pull them out and torture myself, but honestly because it's a really big purse and I don't clean it out enough.  Everything else pregnancy-related has been packed away.  Gone are the freshly laundered maternity clothes, the baby books, the pregnancy apps.  I'm not saying they won't be back (and hopefully in the not too distant future), but I didn't need them as a daily reminder.

If you are having a D&C, I promise you'll be able to look at pregnant women and not kinda hate them.  I promise you'll be able to be happy when others announce they're expecting.  I can't say for certain how long it will take, but you'll get there.  If you want to talk while you're coming up with excuses to not hold a friend's new baby,  I'm here.

Awaiting an Inevitable Miscarriage

This was not how I wanted to be spending my spring break.

Matt and I found out April 2nd that our family was growing.  My husband had been speculating for days that I was pregnant, but I was trying not to get my hopes up since it was still pretty early.  When picking up a prescription for one of my kiddos, I also picked up a pregnancy test.  And lo and behold, it was positive!

We decided to keep it a secret for a while.  I'm horrible at keeping secrets (like I give presents before people's birthdays because I can't wait), but this was such a sweet time with my husband because of all of the giddy texts, wishful thinking, and planning.  Part of our reasoning for keeping our news quiet was we wanted to wait until the end of the first trimester to tell our preschool-aged daughters, but it also meant we hadn't shared the news with our closest friends or relatives either.

It's a good thing we decided to wait.  At the first ultrasound, the baby measured small.  Well, I told myself, I guess I could have been wrong about dates.  What the technician didn't mention during that first ultrasound was the heart rate was also slow.

I went back the next week for a follow-up ultrasound.  The less than warm technician asked why I was back.  Ummmm.  Because I was told to come back?

The baby measured even further behind at this ultrasound, again with a slower than acceptable heart rate.  The doctor said there was a 5% chance the baby will make it.  5%.  That's just enough to ensure that I didn't go get a beer.  Actually, Starbucks sounded nicer.

We went back for a third ultrasound.  The baby's heart rate should have been well over 100, but measured at 50.  Just like before there was nominal growth.  The doctor said the baby was "incompatible with life."  It was a hard pill to swallow.  Up until that point I had held onto the idea that I was wrong or that we would be having a baby with a heart condition.  I could handle that.  My sister has a congenital heart defect that hadn't been detected until after she ran her first marathon as an adult.  She had a full repair in December of 2012 and although she's adjusting to the changes it's brought to her life, she's fine (fine-ish???).

My doctor said to go two weeks with conditions such as mine is rare, but to go three weeks was "uncharted territory."  It was sweet and traumatizing at the same time that the baby was holding on.  So now what?  We kept doing what we've been doing.  We waited.

I pretended to not be pregnant but keep taking my prenatal vitamins and avoiding caffeine.  I tried not to get too focused on that 5%, on the hope that the baby would survive.  I knew in my head not to get attached.  I felt like my uterus was hospice for a baby whose days were numbered.  Because I realistically knew that I wouldn't be bringing a baby into the world in six-ish months, I was even less inclined to share the news with others.

The waiting was tormenting.  We'd go back the next week for yet another ultrasound...and then another and another.  As much as I was looking forward to this experience being over and being able to move on, it brought a lot of guilt.  Was I hoping for my baby's heart to stop beating?  That just didn't seem right when we were hoping so much for the pregnancy test to be positive.

So there we sat, awaiting the inevitable.  The fourth ultrasound was scheduled.  Every other ultrasound appointment had a wait time of five minutes.  Of course, ultrasound #4 was the longest wait.  All of the adorable round-bellied women finding out the genders of their babies left the waiting room with glee-filled smiles.  Matt and I sat, waiting our turn, waiting to see if our baby was still alive.

The fourth time, we had a different technician.  When entering the room she informed us that she was limited in what she could say.  She did, however, turn the monitor towards us.  We didn't need a doctor to tell us...we could see it on our own.  There was our baby, still mildly fish-like.  There was our baby...but there was no flickering.  There was no heartbeat.  Confirmed after another excruciatingly long wait by our OB-GYN, it was officially over.

Four long weeks of awaiting an inevitable miscarriage were over.  Although I knew it was coming and had had four weeks to prepare for the news, knowing our baby was gone was heart-wrenching.  There had always been that 5% in the back of my mind.  I had been lying to my husband and said I wasn't believing the baby would make it.  I had been lying to myself.  How could I not hope?  How could I not hold onto any chance, regardless of how remote?

I'll be sharing a little bit more of the story for a few posts.  My reasoning is one to fill those nearest and dearest on what we've been going through.  Perhaps more importantly, in all the sleepless nights of the past four weeks, I think I've read every blog, message board posting, etc relating to miscarriage.  They brought me understanding and comfort, and I wanted to pay that forward.

Super Bowl Sundae

I'll be honest, sports aren't for me.  When I accompany my basketball/soccer/baseball/collegiate women's bowling-loving husband to sporting events, my focus is "What am I going to eat?"  Eating churros is how I support the team.

Since the "Big Game" is this weekend, I'm already planning what I'll be eating.  The answer is ice cream!  My husband and I are having simultaneous parties this Sunday.  He'll be watching football, and I'll be throwing an ice cream social.  It's a tie!  Everyone wins!

Do you have any favorite game-time snacks?

Talking to My Children about Dominic

5 years...it's been such a long time.  5 years ago, our world fell apart with the sudden loss of my nephew, Dominic.  He had been sick with a barrage of normal kid things, but the one that took his life was unknown to all.  Dominic had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, an extremely aggressive form of cancer.  The heart-wrenching part was not being able to say goodbye to him; however, there is solace in knowing that his last days were spent frolicking happily through the snow with his buddies.

Dominic was an incredible human being.  He was so caring and thoughtful.  He loved, loved, loved stuffed animals, even at ten.  He was creative and incredibly intelligent.  The last time I saw him was Christmas, and he had received a kit to make your own sock monkey-type creature.  I wish I had made it with him. 

Georgia was three months old when Dominic died. They had only met on that Christmas trip (my sister and her family live in Maryland).  Georgia, of course, didn't remember that holiday or the trip cross-country for his funeral.  Harper, the younger of my children, wasn't even born.  It broke my heart to know that they missed out on getting to know how amazing their cousin was. I was determined that they knew about him, which meant they needed to know that he was gone.

Dom had been reading Each Little Bird That Sings when he died, a book ironically about a young girl who deals with death regularly as her family runs the town's mortuary. I read it to my class of 4th graders each January. When my girls are older, I'll read it to them, too. 

I feel it's important for our children to know that death is real, but not in a scary zombies are going to attack way.   It happens, and we grieve and then, when we're ready, we go on living.  Living is different without Dominic, but that's to be expected.

Part of my going on living after Dominic was to keep in our hearts and our conversations.  We talk about him whenever the Beatles come on, when we find giraffe stuffed animals, when there's a pretty bird, or when we replace the toilet paper roll.

I know the picture is inappropriate, but a donkey using a urinal? C'mon, that's funny. It makes me happy to share Dominic with my girls.  I'd love to share him with you also at DominicZahlis.com.

The Backyard: Before & After???

Our next door neighbor asked the man who flipped our house why he wasn't going to do anything about the backyard.  His response was that backyards are very personal and everybody has their own idea about what they want.  What we wanted was grass, lots and lots of grass.

                                              

The yard started out as weed/dirt/trash pit.  Seriously, how old is that milk carton?  The girls would go and "explore" and find shards of glass and other such treasures.  

The yard is super long (83 feet, according to our measurements) and skinny.  Originally, we had two unidentified shrubs and two avocado trees.  Yum, right?  Can you imagine the amount of guacamole I could make with two avocado trees?  I just need a lime tree, and I've got a fiesta!

The gardener who was going to install sprinklers delivered some heart-crushing news.  If we wanted grass for half of the yard, this avocado tree had to go.  No grass could grow with the incredible amount of shade it provided.  I was consoled by the fact that I still got to keep one tree.

So out came the tree and away went the garbage.  Except to Georgia, it wasn't garbage.  To my sweet five-year-old it was her "grotto" and the sticks that disappeared were her "stick family."

After seeing the backyard devastation, she laid on the floor in the fetal position and said, "This is how you destroy a home."  Wow!  Totally harsh.  I promised that she would love having a place to play, that we would go hunt for new sticks, and the original stick family had gone to build homes for small woodland creatures.

One week later, the grass came in.  We were out of town when the sod was laid, so it was such a fun surprise to come home and see green for miles and miles.  Okay, feet and feet.  

Now, we've got a totally prepped blank slate.  Our goals for the backyard:

• Replace the Frankenstein fence
• Make a new and improved "grotto"
• Incorporate a fun place for grown-ups to read and drink coffee

We're not quite sure what the grotto should include.  A play house?  A rock wall?  A chicken coop?  Please don't vote for chicken coop unless there are magical chickens that lay Cadbury Creme Eggs.  Do you have a backyard play structure or other favorite feature?  I'd love to hear what we need!