Unfinished Business

In November I attempted to do a little blog series entitled Thankful Thursday, however, my final installment got derailed due to holiday travel, an overtired child, and, let's be real here, gluttony.  However, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't finish what I started and dedicate a post to the most important little person in my life.  My little Tazmanian Devil.  My baby girl. 

I have to admit that after living with this miniature human for the last year and a half, I've grown pretty attached.  While there are days I would sell her to the gypsies for a Dr. Pepper, I can't imagine my life without her.  And I shutter to think there was a time when I thought she wouldn't make it into this world.

The choice to start a family was a very deliberate decision for us due to my medical conditions.  Specialists were consulted, medication was tapered, post-partum care was discussed.  The one thing that I didn't account for was my Crohn's going completely coo coo for cocoa puffs. 

There is this thing that doctors call the rule of thirds.  A third of Crohn's patients do really well in pregnancy.  Then another third remain stable.  And then there is the final third that tanks.  And that was me.  (Obviously this means they don't have a clue.  Three choices each with a 33.3% chance of occurrence?  Hmm...) 

By week 7, I was getting that old familiar feeling, except I had never been pregnant before, so I assumed it was purely the influx of hormones getting the best of my gut.  I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  And by week 13, I found myself in the hospital for the first time to receive IV antibiotics and corticosteroids. (Did you know they can give morphine to preggos?)  Unfortunately, it wasn't long before I was headed back for a return visit.  (Merry F'in Christmas.)

But under the close watch of my gastroenterologist, obstetrician, and a team of other medical professionals, we managed to get my symptoms under control by the end of my second trimester.  I was beginning to gain weight and I could see my belly growing along with my baby.  I was finally happy to be pregnant and was getting excited to meet this little terrorist causing havoc inside me.

Despite a few minor obstacles (gestational diabetes due to my excessive corticosteroid use, extreme heartburn, and the other common third trimester complaints) we had made it through most of the homestretch without major incident.  Until St. Patrick's Day...

It was at the St. Patrick's Day parade that I began to notice something wasn't "quite right."  I went to visit the port-o-potty and noticed that there was some excessive wetness where maybe there shouldn't be.  I assumed it was just caused by the 80°+ weather.  To be safe, we huffed it back to the car so that I could go home and rest. 

Fast forward 14 hours.  I wake up at 4am to find I'm...  um...  how do I say this delicately?  I'm...  ummm...  leaking.  Matt had just left for work, so I called the OB's exchange hoping they would tell me it was nothing and to go back to bed.  But they didn't.  So, I grabbed armfuls of absorptive materials and drove myself to the hospital. 

Matt walked in about 30 minutes later.  Just in time for them to say, "Yep.  You're leaking amniotic fluid."  Shortly after, we had a team of doctors and nurses traipsing through our room debating about delivering a 33 week and 4 day old baby or trying to stave off labor.  Had I been 34 weeks, there wouldn't have been a question.  Out she would come.  But at this point in pregnancy, every day they are in utero is valuable.  But despite the risks, I was prepped for an emergency c-section.  I barely had time to call my family before they wheeled me into the operating room.

Allison Grace was born at 7:49am.  She came out screaming, but she was oh so tiny.  4lbs 2oz.  17 3/4 inches long.  She looked like a soaking wet chihuahuaua puppy.  Or at least how I would imagine one to look like.  This teeny body covered in pale thin skin that you can see right through.  A disproportionately large head with big puffy eyes.  But she was beautiful.  At least I thought so at the time.  Looking back at her first pictures make me wince a little now.

But she was healthy.  And strong. 

And over the next 12 days, she grew stronger.  She learned to suck, to swallow, and to breathe on her own (all at the same time).  And then they sent her home.  With us.  People that have never cared for a child before, let alone a miniature baby.

Our first night home, I remember sitting in the recliner watching tv with her sleeping on my chest.  It was the most peaceful feeling imaginable.  I couldn't believe that we made her.

I had hoped that would be the end of our medical disasters for awhile, but unfortunately that was not the case.  My body was apparently very confused and thought I was still pregnant.  Maybe it was due to my extended use of maternity pants?  I guess we'll never know.

But despite my best efforts to put out the fire in my gut, nothing was working.  And when I wound up back in the ER for the third time in 7 months, I was ready to give my surgeon a call.  I just wanted something to work.  So I could take care of my baby without being stuck in bed with a heating pad.

So, when Allison was a mere 10 weeks old, her momma had her second bowel resection. 

This was not my first rodeo, so I had high hopes that this surgery would solve all my problems.  After the last one, I had never felt better.  But I hadn't just had a kid before the last one.  And for all of you that have been pregnant, you know that that little monster will lie, cheat, and steal to get what it needs to grow inside you...  Leaving you with very little left for yourself.

So, recovery was a long process...  And my body will never be the same.  I will never have a normal colon.  I will always look like an IED hit my stomach.  But every month gets a little better as I learn how to work with my altered digestive system.

And 21 months after my little girl unexpected arrived into this world, you would never know that she was anything but a normal, happy, healthy child.  For that, I am extremely grateful.

Thankful Thursday

For those of you that remember anything from high school English class, you might be able to look back on yesterday's post as foreshadowing...  Dun dun dun.  I know, how dare I bring up high school two days in a row?!  But I promise, that's the last time. 

Trying to be a good little planner, I've been working on a vague list of future posts.  And by list, I mean mental notes of ideas that usually come to me when I'm in the bathroom. 

But for Thankful Thursdays, I went as far as writing three words on a post-it note.  "Home," Health," and "Family."  Like I said.  Vague.

But I guess I've had autoimmunity on the brain.  Not like I don't always have it on the back of my mind.  That's what happens when you're lucky enough to be part of the autoimmune disease club.  And I'm extra special because I play on two teams.  I guess that makes me pretty lucky.

And truthfully, I am lucky.  Despite the severity of my Crohn's, I live a pretty normal life.  Every once in awhile, I'll have a bad day.  Usually caused by doing something stupid.  Like eating copious amounts of ice cream or McDonalds.  But my daily life isn't limited by my disease.  Until there is a flare up.  That's when I feel like I'm getting zapped by a Proton Pack.  (Don't cross the streams!!) 

As for the MS...  Most of the 6 years I've been living with the disease, I haven't really noticed it being there.  Until after I had the baby.  Then things tanked.  But still, it's not like I couldn't walk.  I just woke up one morning and was numb from the chest down.  And eventhough it's still there after 8 months, I can still function pretty normally.  And most of the time I forget about it.  I like to think that the reason I can't see is because my contact prescription isn't right.  And that could be completely accurate.  Or it could be optic neuritis.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

But I am reminded everyday how lucky I am to be in marginal health.  Because more than likely, neither one of these diseases is potentially going to kill me.  And that puts me ahead of so many less fortunate people.

So when you start whining about having the flu this February (even though you got the flu shot), think about the millions of people out there that are just battling for another day on this earth.  It puts things in perspective real quick.

And I apologize for being such a downer.  Go get some ice cream.  It'll make you feel better.  It always works for me.  And it's totally worth being "Ghostbusted."

Thankful Thursday

And so I continue my expression of gratitude...  in no particular order. 

I have to say that or my husband might get upset.  He gets sensitive when the dog gets more attention than he does. 

I'm feeling especially fond of my husband today.  Not that I'm not always fond of him.  And I think he'd agree that we may not always like each other, but we always love each other.  We're cool like that.

But he's typically a hands-off kinda guy.  Meaning that he lets me hold the reigns about 95% of the time.  And I'm good with that.  My OCD demands a little more control over the day-to-day.  But today was one of those moments that I thanked my lucky stars for him. 

You may recall from Monday's post, I had a little phone mishap over the weekend.  Well, after five days without a working cell phone, I'm still in Verizon purgatory.  And I'm about to chuck this stupid piece of technology off a bridge and move off the grid where I will never need to use a phone again.  And he sensed that.  He's great at dealing with my crazy.

So, in order to avoid the ugly process of moving out to the middle of nowhere and learning how to milk cows and generate our own fuel, he jumped in and started removing things from my overflowing plate.  Without me knowing.  Which ordinarily would send me into a crazy fit.  But today, it was a godsend. 

So, thank you for taking care of the insurance policy.  Thank you for cleaning out the fridge.  And thank you for marrying me.  Because I know that I come with a lot of baggage.   Without you, I'd be hiding in the closet in the fetal position, Sybil-style.  You calm me.  You make me a better person.

Thankful Thursday

Thanksgiving has got to be my favorite holiday.  For one thing, it's a wonderful opportunity to create family memories without all the pressure of gift giving.  (ugh.)  And then there's the food...  Crispy, golden turkeys, mounds of mashed potatoes, my aunt's stuffing that she only makes once a year...  Heaven.

But of course, Thanksgiving isn't just about turkey.  And in an effort to create a catchy blog series recognize all that is good in my life, I thought I would take a few posts and give thanks. Holla!  (That went too far, didn't it?)

Seriously, though...  The last two years have been a challenge for our family, starting with both my husband and myself getting laid off from our jobs in 2008.  And while losing our jobs was a hard blow to our financial situation, I truely believe that everything happens for a reason. The life lessons our layoffs have provided have been invaluable.  We have learned to live on less.  And habits that were created out of financial necessity, have made us better people. 

Some of the things we've learned:

1. You don't need to spend money to have fun.  I pride myself on finding free (or nearly free) family activities.  Many times there are great events hosted at local parks, stores, recreational complexes, or even the library.  You just have to know how to find them.  In the St. Louis area, http://www.stlcalendar.com/ is a great resource for things happening around town. 
2. Cable is a waste.  Back in January, we finally made the decision to ditch the cable and we haven't looked back since.  Sure, it's saved us $60/month, but more than that, it's encouraged us to do more valuable things with our time rather than watching Law & Order reruns for three hours every night.
3. Don't buy what you can make.  For example, I began making our own laundry soap.  And with the amount of laundry that I do (including using cloth diapers), I believe it saves a lot of cash.  I can make a batch (which lasts about 6-8 weeks) for probably less than $1.  And for a minimal time investment, it's totally worth it. 
4. What you can't make, buy on sale.  For a long time I tried to play the coupon game.  And the thrill of getting stuff for next to nothing is quite exciting.  But recently I've learned that many times you end up spending money you wouldn't normally spend in order to save a couple bucks.  (Ahem, I'm talking to you, Walgreens and your Register Rewards.)  That's not to say that if there is a product you use regularly, you shouldn't watch for the sales and stock up at the best price.  I do still clip coupons, but only for items I know I will use. 
5. Reduce waste.  I hate to waste.  It started out as financially motivated, but I've also come to appreciate the environmental aspects as well.  Look at objects and ask yourself if it can serve an additional purpose.  Check out your fridge and see how you can make the most of your food supply.  And so you know, I'll be that person at Chick-Fil-A stuffing that last leftover chicken nugget into her purse, just in case...