Sick kiddo

Poor M. She woke up with a raging fever this morning. Good mama that I am, I went on to work to let H deal with it! He called and said, "I'm taking her to the pediatrician's office. Meet us there." Luckily, she's only got a virus. She hasn't eaten all day and is low on fluids. She fell asleep on the way home from the doctor's office and is now crashed on the couch.

Fun times...

When I'm a big girl

When I'm a big girl, I'm going to love you and Dadda SOOO much. Much more than I do now.

Mommy, I miss Nona and OB on their vacation. Let's call them and tell them. No, let's wait 'till they get home. Then we can call them and tell them we missed them on their vacation.

Dadda is a hard worker. He's a very hard worker. Mama, you're only a hard worker inside. Not outside. Right, Mama? Right??

5 down, 5 to go

My dad has finished 5 days of testing, including two heart caths, and has 5 more to go. Luckily, he has two days off to recuperate. He's tired and worn down. His spirits seemed good. He was a little goofy last night. My mom is holding up pretty well.

Keep praying. Next week is important.

Wearing the Cloak of Exhaustion

There are a few hats (sometimes cloaks) that I wear well.

One of them happens to be exhaustion. I tend to run and run from my problems until they catch on to my hem and drag me down to deal with them.

So, here is my airing of my problems:
1.) I think I hurried back into life after the surgery a little too quickly. Despite being three weeks out (almost), I'm so exhausted that I can't think straight. M and I took three hour naps together Saturday and I was still exhausted Sunday. Last night, I went to bed at 9:30 and woke up at 6:30. That's pretty good sleep time for me. By the time I arrived at work this morning, I felt like I could take a good, long nap. Luckily for me, 5 year olds have exponential energy and they kept me going all day. It's almost 6:30 now and I think I'll stay upstairs when I put M down for bed.

2.) I'm quite worried about my father. Sixteen years ago, he was diagnosed with a lung disease. Yesterday, he and my mother went to Jacksonville for two weeks of testing to find out more about being placed on the lung transplant list. This is a reality I hoped would never materialize, but I'm glad it did because it means my dad is still here, still fighting, still strong. I'm eager for the two weeks to be over so we can move on to the next step, whatever the next step might be for him. My dad is such a great dad and an even more wonderful grandfather. I love being with him and seeing the love between grandfather and granddaughter.

So, the running from my current problems is over and I must deal with the exhaustion that accompanies the marathon. I'll be back when I'm able to shed this cloak and replace it with one of peace and rest.

Missing you...

Report from the doctor

Today I am one week post-up and almsot back to normal. I'm feeling almost 100%, at least 90%.


I had my post op appt this afternoon. I have the greatest parapro (teacher's aid, for you old schoolers!), who let me slip away for 45 minutes so I could go for the consult. I did bring her some lunch to make up for it.


So, the good news is: I'm all cleaned out.


The other good news is: We can start trying to get pregnant immediately. (No, I will not discuss that in any more detail.)


The other good news is: If we don't get pregnant immediately, I will start Clomid in two weeks.


When we were discussing what the good doctor discovered when he was scoping around in there, he found some type of growth. He said he'd never seen anything quite like it before, so he clipped it and sent it off to pathology. He wasn't even sure exactly what to call it in his notes, so he just referred to it as a growth. It was small and not attached to my repoductive organs, thankfully! Because my most recent bloodwork is fine and I have no symptoms of anything, he feels like there is absolutely no reason for concern. He was just doing what any good doctor would do. I did have "moderate" endometriosis, which is about what I had last time. My endometriosis problem seems to gravitate on my left side, which is where it was last time, as well. That explains the pain that I experience at various points during my cycle only on my left side. He checked my tubes--open. Ovaries look good.

So, all in all, things are lookin' good. Now it's up to the Great Physician to make that miracle happen. All in His perfect time.

Long neck

"M, Nona and OB got you a giraffe costume for Halloween!"

"Yeah!!!! Now, we just need to grow me a longer neck!"


On another note, M was exposed to the swine flu. Lucky us. I wonder if one of the side effects is a longer neck?

You may now return to your previously scheduled programming.

Good Job, Mr. President

I'm not going to make a comment on my support or lack thereof of policy. What I am going to say is: Good job, Mr. President.

Dear Mr. President,

Today, you were able to capture the attention of 22 kindergartners in the middle of the great state of Georgia. They loved seeing you on TV and felt that you were speaking directly to them when you said "students from kindergarten to twelfth grade are listening." They literally almost fell out of their seats when they heard kindergarten. They were a little confused when you said today is the first day of school for many students, but I'll give you a little leeway for that comment.

Now, on to my commentary, which I'm sure you were waiting on.

--Good job staying away from politics when you spoke to the youth of the country. Honestly, I didn't feel you would cross that line, but one can never be too sure.
--Good job encouraging the young people to not allow their circumstances to define them or to hold them back. Thank you for encouraging them to reach around obstacles in their lives and grab their dreams.
--Good job handing responsibility BACK to the student. As educators, we so often hear "teacher accountability." Thank you, from every educator in this country, for tossing some responsibility back to the learner.
--Good job reminding young people that this life is bigger than they are. By reminding them that they have something to offer this world, a responsibility (there is that word again) to their communities, to our country, you are reminding them that they are not the center of this universe. We NEED the contribution of every member of this society. Good job bringing that to the attention of future generations.

Mr. President, I don't always agree with your policies. I don't always want to support the decisions you make for this country. But I do and I will because you were elected by the people of this country to be our leader. Today, Mr. President, you made me proud. Proud to be a teacher. Proud to have a tiny role in changing the future of this country. Good job, Mr. President. Thank you for taking the time (and the heat) to speak to the students in our country. I hope every president that follows you will make the same decision to take time to speak directly to our future.

Good job, Mr. President.

SOOC: Sunday

One of my dearest and oldest bloggy friends, Melody, hosts this photo carnival every weekend. I don't think I've ever participated. But late is better than never, right?



This is my favorite picture from Bark for Life, an ACS fundraiser to fight cancer.

I'll have to grab the button in a while and stick it in.

Head over to Melody's to check out other SOOC.

Update and a funny

The pain is moderate today as opposed to intense yesterday. I had a good night.

This morning I told M, "You're a good nurse."

She busted out laughing. "I'm not a NURSE, Mommy! I'm just a good helper!"

A few minutes later, H told her it was time to go to school. She started crying and told him she needed to stay home to read to me and to be my good nurse. Then she said, "Daddy, what's a good nurse?"

I'm home and everything went well though I'm in a little more pain then I remember from the first procedure. H is taking great care of me. Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers.

Looking forward

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

Robert Frost

I'm standing there. At that point where I can see both roads. I look at the path with which I am so familiar. That path of infertility. I'm used to that. The desperate trying, the let down each month. It's a jacket that I wear. A little snug, a little (or a lot) uncomfortable, something I'm shocked to see when I look in the mirror. Not the jacket I would have picked out for myself. Not that path on which I wanted to travel. Yet, I'm oddly comfortable with it. There is something in the familiarity. The trying and somehow knowing that we won't (can't) succeed.

The yearning, the aching arms, the tears in the middle of the night are what pull me to the new path. This path that is grassy, but wanting wear. This path that might, although unclear, lead us to the place, the thing, we want the most: a baby. Our baby. This path is murky, foggy, shadowy, unknown. Perhaps the final destination on this path is NOT the baby we so desperately want. But the path we were on definitely wasn't taking us in the right direction.

So, we're changing plan. No longer are we just trying.

Tomorrow at 1:00 PM, we will take a step of faith. We will leave this path that is familiar, uncomfortable, sad, burdened. We will begin a new journey. A journey of renewed faith in the great Physician who will ultimately decide when the time is right for us. We are hopeful that this is part of His plan, His calling for the time to be now, the doctors are the right ones. I will have surgery tomorrow. The surgery is the first step on this new path.

My heart is racing as we look forward.