One bite at a time

My eyes and ears are telling me that it is a glorious spring morning. Clean sunshine is streaming in our kitchen windows, setting the yellow walls aglow. White blossoms are bobbing on the branches outside the window by my chair. Birds are singing and chirping. All of that evidence says "This is a perfect spring day! Enjoy it! Relish the beauty! Breathe in the freshness!" 

a really bad iPad picture of the blossoms outside my chair's window.

And then there's the rest of my body, screaming "MORNINGS ARE THE WORST! I HATE PUKING! GAG! EEEW, DO I HAVE TO EAT THAT?" 

The battle of the senses. In the end I nibble my banana and gaze longingly past the messy kitchen at the blue sky and flowers, not exactly feeling the springy joy, but somehow swallowing another bite. Once again, I've been putting off a blog post because what is there to say? Nothing that sounds exciting to my dull wit and queasy senses. My nausea is ever-present, but restrained by certain choice drugs. I only heave first thing in the morning now, and then I can eventually choke down some cereal and/or a banana to stabilize the churning acids. Still, the awful feeling that "wow, I could puke right NOW if I leaned over" rarely leaves for long. Blah blah blah, we know, Shaina, you're pathetic and sick and you have a creepy purple tube hanging out of your arm which is the reason you're down to only one barf per day. 

So, life over the past week-plus post-hospital stay has been sluggishly slow for me. Spending five hours curtained off in my cubicle at the hospital every single day, seven days a week, is taking its toll on my sanity. I mean, yes, it's better than puking all day long, but then again, most things are better than that! Some days I think there's NO WAY I can do this another day. There were those two dark days that the hospital's usually stellar WiFi signal was down. Talk about mind-numbing! I resorted to low quality fiction since it's the only thing my mind will process in its current condition. Man, I sure feel like Moaning Myrte today, huh? 

What I mean to tell you is how the day goes: I get up, pee and puke, stagger to my chair, slowly consume cereal and banana over an hour or two, slowly gain courage, sometimes make a pathetic phone call to my Mom for advice and emotional support, and then I slowly eat something else. Jeff leaves for work around 6:45am, in the midst of my puking/staggering. Sometime between 9-10am, various sweet ward members come and whisk my children off for a day of play. They usually return around 5pm. At 11am, Jeff leaves Sunnyside High School duringhis planning period, drives the 15 minutes back to Grandview, picks me up, and then drives me to Sunnyside to the hospital, which is conveniently located a few blocks from the high school. 

At the hospital, my tube is hooked up to another tube which is hooked to a big yellow bag full of vitamins and medicines. Ever so slowly, over the next 4 hours, 2 liters of liquid go through the tubes into ME. Add startup and cleanup and wait times to that and you get that lonnng 5 hour stay. When I'm almost done, school has been out for at least an hour, so I call my patient husband and he comes over and picks me up. 

I can hardly fathom all of the support and help that we have received. It's overwhelming! Tuesday, for example: Ashleigh Thornock picked the kids up before 9am. Just after 9am, sweet Sister Marcia Naylor came over and cleaned up our family room and kitchen. When I say cleaned up, I mean she washed dishes, swept, vacuumed, AND MOPPED!!!!!! I sat there and did my best not to think too hard about it all so I could avoid crying while she cheerfully tidied up a 3-week mess. Oh and the night before, she brought me a slab of chocolate cake! And 3 nights a week, Relief Society sisters deliver dinner to our doorstep! Grateful doesn't begin to describe how I feel.

Ok, I have one more subject on my mind. Over the past few weeks, I have been having a calm, peaceful feeling that this is IT: this is our last baby. It's a terrifying and sad and good feeling all at once. This is kind of personal for a blog, but I just have to mention that fact because then you'll understand this better: I am DYING to know which way our family will tip: will this be a boy or a girl? Will Jay have a  brother or will Rose have a sister? Whose clothes will I be able to start giving away instead of saving carefully? And then, the inevitable scary miscarriage thoughts creep in all too often as well. I have had beautifully reassuring priesthood blessings and dozens of prayers, but in spite of all that those icky fears still creep in every now and then. Keep on beating, little heart! 

It has been quite the journey, arriving at this point and this decision. After Rose was born, I was ready for a good long break from bearing and caring for babies. Then I got pregnant by surprise twice in one year and had two miscarriages. I realized that I may not be as in control of the situation as I thought. I also realized that I may not get the four-to-six babies of my dreams. When I started watching Layne, then Spencer, and then Tate too, I realized that I really WANT lots of kids. At the same time, I always wanted to KNOW when the last one was on its way, so I could say farewell to the whole process. Then this pregnancy stormed joyfully across the horizon and I realized that it would be prudent to stop before the babies kill me. The process has been long, and again, this is pretty personal, but I just feel like outlining my thoughts. For the record, Jeff has always said that we'd have as many kids as I wanted, but we pretty much decided after the last horrible pregnancy that if this one was worse, we'd be done. So there they are, my secret, personal heartfelt thoughts scattered across the internet. Treat them with care, friends.

It's so nice to KNOW how many kids I'll have, and to dream about the future, knowing what the ages of the kids will be. It's a little shocking that I'll be "done" way (years!) sooner than I thought I would be, but that will also be kind of exciting in its way.

Morning snuggle time:

Jay: "look, Mommy, I picked this for you."