Home again, home again

After eight days in the hospital, I finally came home on Wednesday (April 2nd). It is so good to be home. I have been thoroughly enjoying the small scenes that I missed out on in my solitary, beeping hosptial room: Jay climbing back onto his tall stool at the kitchen counter 4 times in a row in order to perfect his dismount (frontward jump to the floor). Rose combing her hair with the carrot she's munching. Jay snuggling up with me in my chair with a pile of blankets, and just talking together. Rose's extravagant art projects that span the kitchen floor. Jeff patiently fetching me drinks, snacks, and meals so I don't have to move my tender stomach. Steph and Grama Leslie visiting with little Layne and baby Tate to bring squishy baby cheer to my worn countenance. Layne gives the best hugs I've ever seen from a one year old. Tate still smiles at me. I love my family. All I can do right now is love them from my chair, but I love them so much.

The conditions of my release, aka, my parole from the hospital: I have to return every day for two liters (that's two bags) of fluids: one "banana bag," the yellow one, full of vitamins and spiked with obscene amounts of Zofran and Reglan. And one regular clear bag. It takes 4 hours for those to pump through my PICC line and into my bloodstream. It usually takes about half an hour for them to get everything squared away and hooked up, plus a 15 minute drive to the hospital and the 15 minute drive home. That equals roughly five hours per day spent solely on keeping me alive. It's worth it and obviously better than living at the hospital, but it already feels long. I am still not up to driving myself to the hospital, so I have to get a ride with someone. And then my kids need somewhere to go while I am in getting pumped. Luckily, this week has been the high school's spring break, so Jeff has been home and able to take care of everything like the champ he is, but starting next week, I'm going to be relying even MORE heavily on my dear friends, ward, and family. It's hard being so helpless. 

Another hard thing for me is being ok with my dulled wits and brain function. When I anticipate all the discomforts of pregnancy, I always brace myself for the physical horrors of it all. But somehow I manage to edit out the mental side. My brain feels fuzzy and out of focus. Maybe it's all the drugs, but I think it's also just so-called placenta brain. It's hard because some of my favorite pastimes should be easily doable when I'm confined to an armchair for multiple months: I should be able to read an entire library of books, right? Wrong! I can read, but I don't appreciate a well-written book or any clever wording that inspires thought. The joys of reading are lost on my fuzzybrain. Writing also comes at a huge cost. This poor withered blog is suffering right along with my personal journal. I love having a record even of the bad times, but this one is going to be sparse. 

For family movie night (something I can actually participate in, as long as we do it upstairs instead of in the basement), we watched Frozen. Rose has seen it 3 times already, but this was my first viewing. It actually lived up to the hype--I liked it a lot. Perfect Disney extravegance and splendor. I see why it has thrilled many a young heart. I was nervous after hearing so many people gush over it for so long. And I was determined to hate the stupid snowman because he looked like he was going to be an idiot, but he was my favorite! "Some people are worth melting over." Darling. I loved watching Rose watch the movie. She was so proud to show it to me, and she kept explaining parts to me. She alternately bobbed her head along with the music, clenched her fists in anxiety, and giggled at funny parts. Her excitement was palpable. It made me happy.

Ok, I think that's all I have to say for now. Except that Jeff drove 40 minutes to the nearest Panda Express to bring me orange chicken for dinner tonight. Bless my husband. Here are the few pictures I've taken over the past few weeks:

 

When Jeff is gone, Jay preps breakfast: milk and cereal.

It gets a little messy.

I do Rose's hair, and she acessorizes her bunny.

Sunrise through the kitchen curtains, as seen from my recliner one morning a few weeks ago.

While I was in the hospital, Jeff gutted and updated our computers, and he lets Jay and Rose play Lego games on the computer. I don't have any love for computer games, but I do love listening to Jay and Rose and watching them while they play. Just because they're so cute. 

This cute tiny tree was right outside my hospital window. I looked at it a lot over those 8 days.

A close-up of a "banana bag." I still think it looks gross. But it's magic potion!

This baby is going to be pretty sweet, because SUGAR has been my main desire for the past two weeks. Mostly fruity sugar. Any fruity-ness but strawberries. Bananas, applesauce, Froot Loops, fruit juice. I'm living off of it. The hospital gives me these peel-top bowls of Froot Loops on request whenever I'm there.

Did I ever post this picture? I'll post it again if I have. I love them.

Hospital

Energy is running low, but it's high time for an update. Here it is:

I've been in the hospital all week. Saturday, Sunday, and Monday (March 21-23) I had some of the worst days of my existence, complete with barf-a-thons and IVs followed by more barfing. I hurled before I went to the hospital and when I left the hospital. Nothing was helping. I felt so scared! I had no idea how I was supposed to survive another 6-8 weeks of such intensity. Finally on Monday night, I called Dr. Weaver and asked what I should do. He said if I was his sister, he'd tell me to go check in to the hospital. So I did, and I've been here ever since. 4 days and counting. 

The PICC line. You know, it's surprisingly difficult to take a picture of your own right bicep using an iPad.

I'm on a constant fluid drip, which goes straight into my newly insterted PICC line in my upper arm. And it's not just fluids--the juice they're pumping me with has vitamins and minerals and some glucose in it too. It helps. I'm glad it's helping because the alternative was to get a tube down my throat and get fed that way. Gag!

Peeking in the mirror from my bed in the hospital. That yellow stuff in the bag up high is the TPN (vitamin-IV-juice). It looks like pee to me. 

They give me 1, 2, or sometimes 3 different kinds of nausea medicine at once. Zofran, Reglan, and Phennergan. The Phennergan makes me so sleepy! That was the game-changer though. Nothing else was working on my first night as an inpatient, and they finally gave me a double dose shot of Phennergan. Wow, it worked, but it also knocked me OUT. I don't remember ever feeling so stoned as I did under that double dose of Phennergan, even post-wisdom tooth removal. I could barely open my eyes, much less stand up! A nurse took 3 vials of blood from my hand and I don't remember it. Since then, they've cut my dose in half so it's not quite as debilitating.

While I was somewhat stoned, they did an ultrasound. The little jelly bean is thumping away in there. It seemed like there could easily be two or three or more in there--I was sick enough! But it's just one. I'm so glad we're both alive.

After a night in the hospital, I was able to start taking a few bites of applesauce every now and then. By day two, I added bananas and a plain turkey sandwich. Now I can even handle a little peanut butter and bagel. I've stabilized at last. But I am scared to change anything--going home and trying to survive on my own is daunting. When I do go home, I will have a home health service set me up with a fluid pump that goes into my PICC line so I can stay hydrated around the clock. 

I've said it before and I'll say it again: we know the dearest people here. Flowers, visitors, babysitters, meals, you name it, they've done it over and over. It gives me this little sobby ache in my heart when I think about all the love and kindness we've recieved.

And that's about it with the news. I don't know when I'm coming home. I just recline in my motorized hospital bed by the hour, snuggled up with my 4 most comforting cozies: my homemade pillow case from a past Relief Society, my pink blanket that my Grama Brown made me when I was 3 (the thing is falling apart and I'm scared it will become a pile of lint next time I wash it, but it's so soft and comfy), my "sick and afflicted" fleece blanket that our sweet Relief Society made for me last time I went through this prego-sickness, and my "husband repelling" tie died rainbow leopard fleece PJ pants that my Mom made for me when I was pregnant with Rose. I snuggle up with my cozies, look at my flowers, and wait for the days to pass. 

Round One

Let the agonizing routine begin. I had my first round of liquid IV manna today after a night of nearly continuous heaving. I'm 6.5 weeks along.

In spite of the 2 bags' worth of saline solution coursing through my veins right now, I am still feeling rather like a dull pencil. So here's a jumbled list of thoughts/updates:

1. The first thing I ate (and kept down) today was a small bowl of KFC mashed potatoes, at 3pm. Laaa! Remember when KFC used to sell the mashed potatoes in those round styrofoam containers? Well, they changed to these reusable plastic tupperware-style containers and I think that's their excuse to jack the price up. I can get a 5 lb bag of potatoes for the same price as one palm-sized scoop of KFC mashed poatoes! But since I can't make my own mashed taters right now, I guess the KFC price is right. At least the ear-grating sound of a plastic spork scraping styrofoam is eliminated. 

2. I am overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of my dear friends in our ward here. They rallied the troops the instant I mentioned my pregnancy, and we've already had 3 dinners delivered to our door. Plus, people are getting in line to take Jay and Rose each day--this week they are booked every single day! If I think about it all too much I inevitably start crying so I'll just say I love these people so much. They make the Yakima Valley worth living in.

our insurance through the school district is awesome--generic prescriptions have zero copay!

3. Even though I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I decided to try out the prego thing again, IT'S STILL HARD. Excruciatingly hard. I'm trying not to think about how much longer this will last (6 weeks bare minimum). 

4. Jeff is at the store getting me some oatmeal cream pies. My stalwart mother never bought those for our lunchboxes back in the day, but I must've sampled a friend's cookie at some point because I love them. And they randomly sounded palatable just now. 

5. For our book club this past month, we read Heaven is Here by Stephanie Nielson (LDS blogger who got 80% of her body burned in a plane crash). I cried through most of it because her experience hit kind of close to home. Of course her months of coma and recovery were lightyears beyond what I go through while pregnant, but the way she described her ward and family stepping in and taking care of her kids and cleaning her house and helping her with everything sounded exactly like what my ward and family do for me when I'm sick. It was a beautiful, touching story, and it reminded me that people are GOOD. They help. That makes me feel so toasty inside.

6. Now I'm eating an oatmeal cream pie and it actually tastes good!

7. The nurses in the outpatient services at the hospital recognized me today from my last bout of pregnancy-illness 1.5 years ago. 

8. Jay seems to be coping with my sickness by ignoring me as much as possible. It's kind of sad to me. I can't talk as loundly anymore because that requires pressure from my diaphragm which does not feel good. So half the time Jay doesn't hear me, and the other half the time he just pretends he can't hear me. Before bed at night, Jeff has the kids come over to my chair and hug  me goodnight. Jay hugs me quickly and then runs off without saying anything. I think he assumes I'm cranky based on the nauseated look on my face. Sigh. It will pass.

listening to  the Piano Guys together after Rose woke up from an impromptu floor nap the other day.

9. Rose, on the other hand, has no qualms about jumping onto my chair and jiggling my stomach into queasy oblivion. She gobbles up the rest of all my half-eaten snacks--dry toast crusts and all. She's loving this new setup!

10. The nurse numbed my arm before inserting the IV today--I've had my fair share of IV needle-pokes, and never once have they numbed me first. It was amazing! No cringe-worthy jab of that fat pipe-like IV needle at all. Just the light tap of the numbing needle, and then nada. It was a revelation. So far this time around, I think my doctor's plan is for me to go get an IV at the hospital's outpatient rooms whenever I need it instead of inserting a full-fledged PICC line like last time. If they keep numbing my vein before the pokes, I'm all for that! Convenience minus the high-maintenance vein-flossing PICC line tube. We'll see how things go.

Ok, that's all I've got so far. My oatmeal cream pie is gone. It left a weird aftertaste, and now I must focus on dreaming up the next palatable food. 

Bucket List

Right when I found out I was pregnant, I started composing a mental bucket list of things to do during the next two weeks or so before I started getting too sick to care about anything. The list included things like go to my eye doctor appointment, clean the bathrooms and vacuum the floor. I thought for sure I had two weeks from March 4th (the day I took the positive pregnancy test) before I was out of commission. Yet here I am glued to my recliner a scant one week later. I barely completed like 2.5 things on my list before my first morning hurl and consequent immobilization came today. 

This weekend, Jeff added an item to my bucket list: go on a family adventure!

So on Saturday (March 8th) we loaded up the van and drove to our beloved first home in Washington--College Place/Walla Walla--for a nostalgic visit to all our favorite parks there. It's only a 90 minute drive from Grandview, and when we got there and drove the achingly familiar streets, we were increasingly surprised that we have not gone back there in the 3.5 years since we left. I guess we've been busy exploring new territory in this enormous state. 

It felt good to go back to lovable College Place and wonderful Walla Walla--like we were going home. Jay was born in Walla Walla, and Jeff recieved his M.A.T. while we lived in College Place. Good memories. 

We went to Lions Park in College Place first. This was my favorite park while we lived there, because it was only about a mile from our apartment and I would take baby Jay on a run and then finish my run at Lions Park so Jay could swing and eat the grass a little before going home to our cramped (but cosy) apartment. Sometimes in good weather, we met friends there for a picnic. 

Jay, back in the day...

It was hard, but I crammed Jay and Rose into the funky baby swings just to compare with the old picture.

They look so big.

My favorite part about Lions park is the little creek running through it. Jay loved it too, along with the ducks hat swam in it.

There's a small man made pond at one end of the creek with a low sidewalk all around it. Jay kind of made me nervous by treating that sidewalk like a track and sprinting around it by the water at breakneck speed.

The kids kept chasing this flock of ducks that landed in the field. Right when they settle after the last chase, Jay would charge them again. You can barely see the ducks in this picture, level wih the tree line.

Good ole Lions park.

After running and swinging and frisbee-ing around Lions Park for an hour or so, we stopped at our favorite drive-in burger place in Walla Walla, Fast Eddy's, for some lunchtime hamburgers, milkshakes, and sweet potato fries. Pregnancy taste buds did taint this meal for me, but it was still worth the visit.

We took our Fast Eddy's food out to Rooks Park in Walla Walla to eat and explore. We only went to Rooks Park a few times during the 14 months we lived in the area, but it was still a favorite. There are footpaths and trees and benches and it's big and feels secluded and natural. We marveled again at how different Walla Walla is physically and, you know, meteorologically from Grandview, and it's barely 80 miles away! They have trees there. And rain. But there are still tasty fruit farms. 

Four years ago (I took a picture of this picture from our photo book so it's kind of grainy)

On that same bridge, 4 years later.

Looking through the crack on the bridge...Hee Hee Hee.

Frisbee:

Jay's technique was a little wild, but he got in a few decent throws and catches.

Poor boy took more than one frisbee to the face. It was such fun watching Jay and Rose play frisbee together. Then we all joined in and tossed it around to each other.

By the time we'd had our fill of Rooks Park, we were all getting pretty tired, so we elected to drive past our third park of choice instead of playing in it. Pioneer Park in Walla Walla has these giant thick trees scattered throughout, and in the fall it is a leafy-crunchy delight. When Jay saw the large superior-looking playground he really wanted to get out and play, but we still had that 90 minute drive ahead of us, so we got going. Good thing, too, because we all fell asleep on the way home--when Jeff got drowsy, we switched drivers. 

While our visit to Walla Walla wasn't nearly as adventursome or exciting as some of our past family outings, it was lovely to go back to where we started out in Washington and enjoy a stroll down the various memory lanes tucked away in our favorite parks.

The third time is the charm

I am pregnant!

I found out on Tuesday, March 4th. 

As of today, I am 5.5 weeks along.

My due date is November 6th, according to my app. 

That's one month after my sister Em is due. Close cousins!

Those are the facts. Now time for the everything else. 

Usually I hold out as long as I can before I officially announce a pregnancy, but I've never lasted more than 2 weeks before I have to tell people why I'm pukey and pale. So this time I figured, why not? I don't feel like keeping it a secret. It feels like lying! And I feel sort of obligated to warn various people that I will not be reliable or able-bodied for much longer. 

The one hangup with admitting to the world that I'm pregnant this early is the whole possiblility of a miscarriage, of course. But guess what? Miscarriages happen whether you've told people you're pregnant or not, and I already have gone through a miscarriage where I kept it private till it was over, and one where everyone had to be told about the loss. Niether way was any fun, but it's just one of those things that you deal with if you have to. I sure hope I don't have to this time!

Miscarriage. Blah. I have to mention it. I used to shy away from the word completely, especially while I was pregnant. Somehow I felt that if I didn't think about it, it wouldn't happen. Well, this is my fifth (!) pregnancy. So I'm 50/50 for successful pregnancies. This one will tip the scale one way or another. I don't feel immune to the fear of miscarriage, but I do feel more able to accept the possibility. Or maybe it's more that since I've dealt with the loss before, it isn't such a deep dark unknown anymore. I know how it feels and I know I will get through it again if it happened again. Don't get me wrong--I'm terrified of having a miscarriage! What 5 week pregnant woman isn't? But I am doing my best to live by faith instead of fear. It's a challenge. 

Aside from those plaguing fears, I am elated for this opportunity to have another baby! I have been baby hungry for at least 6 months. I feel so ready for a baby in my life again. Rose has been out of diapers for nearly a year now, for goodness sake. BABY BABY BABY. Bring it on. 

Pregnancy is so completely full of highs and lows: one minute I'm in the clouds dreaming about how exciting it will be to finally have another baby of my own, and the next minute I'm praying desperately to NOT have another miscarriage. One minute I'm enjoying a plate of food and the next I'm cringing in nausea. And it's been less than a week since I even found out I'm pregnant! Oh boy.

Basically, I am happy to finally be pregnant again, but feeling rather apprehensive about the next few weeks and dealing with the nausea and related horrors.

Conclusion: elation + terror = pregnant. 

Last Minute MO

How long has it been since I waited thirteen days between blog posts? A LONG TIME, maybe never. Good ole life, you are so full.

About a month ago, my sister Em found out she’s pregnant. About two weeks ago, I started getting these text messages from her:

What should I eat?

Ugh, I hate meal time! And snack time!

Siiiiiissssssster!!! I neeeeeed you to come take care of me!!! And watch shows with me! Why can’t you live closer?

blah blah barf

SAVE me!

On Saturday February 22nd, Em sent me this text:

Soooo something for you to think about…I have enough Southwest points for 2 round trip tickets…I could use them for 2 tickets for you to come see me?!! That would leave one ticket that would cost $$, if you’d be willing to buy it! Just an idea for your planning brain!

About an hour later, we had booked three tickets to St. Louis. Total cost: $178. Two and a half days after the official booking, we were on our way. Can we say last minute?

Here’s how the journey looked: 3 hour drive to the Seattle-Tacoma airport, a 3.5 hour flight to Chicago Midway, a 1.5 hour layover at dinner time, a 50 minute flight into St. Louis, and a 45 minute drive to Em’s house. It was a long day. But we got to Missouri in less than half of the time it took us to drive there last year. This time around, we stayed for a week.

[the layover]

We went straight to bed when we got to la casa Broadbent, and the next morning I went to work on that place. It looked exactly like I expected it to look with a naseo-prego-mama and accountant-daddy-during-tax-season. I rinsed out the dishes, started the dishwasher, swept the floor, wiped the counter, cleaned old food out of the fridge, started the laundry, made a grocery list and got food. The kids played and snacked and played and watched shows in the midst of all my housekeeping. Em and I watched episodes of White Collar in between me getting food for everyone and cleaning it up again. It was the most productive I’ve ever been on a visit to Em’s house!

It was bitter cold in Missouri while we were there—like in the teens and twenties the entire time. Steve even had a snow day off from school on Monday. On one errand, the cold cracked open a half-healed cut on my finger without my knowledge and I walked halfway through Walgreens with three blood-drenched fingers before I noticed the red and begged a Band-Aid off the cashier.

[Jay, Rose, and I slept in the basement guest room]

The kids got cabin fever pretty bad after a solid week spent inside. Their wrestling matches got rougher and rougher as the days passed. Playing referee was a challenge.

[Friday night cousin sleepover]

Em has three kids and I have two. Five kids ages 6 and under require a lot of maintenance and a lot of FOOD. FOOD was the center of the universe while we were there. Someone always needed something to eat. Right when I got everyone fed, the first one wanted more. It was intense!

[one word: LEGOS]

Aside from the kids, I fetched snacks and concocted meals and cajoled nauseated Em into eating. Each day I also fielded several dozen questions like “Why can’t I just eat it? Blah!” and the like. It was quite the job, but I feel SO MUCH sympathy for victims of all-day morning sickness that I was HAPPY to do what little I could to ease the suffering. Nevertheless, by the 7th day, I was feeling rather exhausted.

On Wednesday, March 5th, Jay, Rose, and I reversed and repeated our trip home, except we paused in Milwaukee instead of Chicago. My sweet Mom picked us up at the airport and let us get the wiggles out at her house for a bit before we tackled that 3-hour drive back to Grandview. We arrived at Jeff sweet Jeff—I mean home sweet home--around 6pm last night (Wednesday).

[the security guard at the airport gave Jay and Rose shiny badge stickers] 

COUSINS!

Most favorite thing about the visit: the triumphant feeling of having successfully dreamed up and delivered a food item that Em could stomach. Oh, and watching the cousins bond. And snuggling with the sweet Chase-face.

Least favorite thing about the visit: Tuesday night cleanup time. The kids were all emotionally fried and exhausted the night before we left (and I was too!), but I was determined to get that basement cleaned up from all their playing. So I morphed into Stern-Shaina and became The Taskmaster. After 45 minutes of that intensity, the basement was tidy again. WHEW, it’s always a chore getting tired kids to do a chore.

I tried getting all the kids to stand in a line from tallest to shortest…

Dan (age 4) and Rose (age 3) are almost the same height.

Although it was a wrench leaving my poor ill sister to fend for herself, there’s no place like home.