Too Hard

Right now this feels too hard.  Can you please pray for us?  Hoping my mom will find her peace on the other side of heaven shortly.  While I want to hang on to my mom forever, peace cannot come soon enough.

Precious Gifts

How did we get here?

How did my dumb little blog about home improvements and my utterly boring life turn into something so beautiful.  I'm procrastinating.  It's what I do fairly well.  So instead of changing the laundry, I decided to go back through old blog posts and scrolled through all the pictures of people praying for my mom for her birthday.  So instead of doing laundry I just sat here and cried over the fact that people were willing to take the time and pray and take a picture.  What a precious gift.

I keep reminding myself that we were meant to walk this road.  That there is a purpose to the pain.  Lately it has been harder to think about losing my mom.  Of course it is a journey and the pain ebbs and flows like the sea. Some days I am on board with her upgrading to heaven, other days I'm not, for purely selfish reasons.  Yesterday my mom gave my sisters and me a gift.  My cousin Debbie had found "Goodnight Moon" books where you can record the audio for each page.  So my mom recorded her voice reading these books so that Grayson will always be able to listen to her read, and my sister's future children can as well.  So I just sat and cried as I listened to my mom read to my son.  What a precious gift.

Today a friend from church watched Grayson for a couple hours for me to sleep after working all night.  And then my son, yes my son, slept in bed with me for 4 hours.  Holy crap what a precious gift.  Hopefully there are no repercussions from that gift later tonight.

Every now and then I think I should take down the fund raiser on my blog now that the disability checks have started for my mom.  But I don't want to because it is a constant reminder that we are deeply loved and cared for.  Just thinking about that whole experience makes me cry a little harder.  What a precious gift.

On Wednesday, my friend Amy is coming over to visit.  I had written about her earlier, pleading for prayers.  I hope one day she will write down her story and her experience so that I can share it.  The fact that she is alive and I am able to reintroduce Grayson to one of the first people that met him, is beyond a precious gift.  I cannot wait to watch Amy walk down the aisle in May.  I will surely sob my face off.

Right now this road and this journey feel hard and heavy.  My mom is declining again, which in her funny and twisted way she is thrilled about.  She has a great deal of peace and excitement to walk into heaven's gates.  She is using the oxygen a lot more and she is having more panic attacks in the middle of the night or when she has to get up to use the bathroom.  Her foot really hurts, but due to the side effects she doesn't want to take pain medicine.  A couple days ago I was sitting in bed with Grayson as my mom tickled him and my son started to laugh for the first time.  Don't get me wrong, his bottled up snort still has a ways to go until it is a full blown belly laugh, but my mom sat there clutching her ribs for quite some time because Grayson had her laughing so hard that she probably burned more calories than she ate in the entire day.  What a precious gift.

Grayson continues to be a precious gift in my life.  Who could deny that fact looking at this little nutter butter?  This monkey is going to give us a run for our money.  Who has this much energy before bed and enjoys standing like that when he isn't even 4 months old?

I am so thankful for all the precious gifts in my life.  I am going to stop crying about it now and go do the laundry.

Essence

Every now and again I get a little taste of what life is truly about.  I want to figure out how to bottle up the essence of life, because those little bottles would be potent and hold great capacity for change.

Recently when I lived in a home of sickies, I put some essential peppermint oil in our humidifier.  I usually function on the mentality of "some is good and more is better", so one drop surely wouldn't be enough.  So I load my humidifier with what will surely clear out my nasal passages and help me to breathe better and turn that sucker on.  Within a half hour I could no longer enter that room or my eyes would tear up as if I was chopping a bushel of onions and now my wall has an oil stain on it.  That little bit off peppermint essence was some potent stuff and forever changed my bedroom wall which I have no desire to repaint.  Maybe in this case more was just stronger.

Of course there are the obvious things that we wish we could bottle up and keep forever.  Weddings and births.  My wedding will forever be seared into my mind as one of the most amazing days of my life. Grayson's birth as well.  Grayson's birth went beyond what I expected in so many ways.  It rocked me to my core because of the other situations surrounding that day on top of the fact that I was meeting my son for the first time.  I did not want to admit to myself that I was in labor, and I think I ignored the fact that I was pregnant for a good number of months while trying to sleep in hospital chairs next to my mom.  In my planners heart, that was not what my pregnancy experience was going to look like, and I surely would have given birth with my momma there.

Inevitably things do not always go according to our plans.  And regardless of my plan it was good none the less.  I was surrounded by love and cared for by people who care deeply about me.  Everyone knew the circumstances beyond those four walls and realized the magnitude of this event in my life.  While I was mourning the fact that my mom couldn't physically be there that night, others helped me to remember that it was a miracle she could be there at all.  Those first moments meeting your baby, and even more so, that first night where it is just the three of you is a perfect example of radical love and the essence of life.

The other day my mom finally mailed a project she she had worked on for a long time.  She had a friend she met through blogging who truly inspired her.  This woman walked with radical faith and had adopted many, many kiddos.  For some time my mom wrote down ways in which this woman's words made a difference in her life and how her story mattered to my mom and she made a scrap book out of it.  I looked at my mom the other day sobbing happy tears in bed as she was reading on her phone.  Her friend had received the scrap book and was blown away.  My mom didn't have to take the time to do that.  She could have just sent a little quick email.  But instead she created a memory that was an example of the essence of life.  As my mom's tears once again streamed down her cheeks, I was reminded how important it is to slow down and support each other in little and small ways.

My sister called me the other day.  She received her electric bill.  It was way beyond what she had estimated and in the moment she was completely overwhelmed.  The next piece of mail she opened had a note from a family that she recently nannied for, but hasn't been able to since needing to stay with my mom more.  It just said that they loved her and missed her, and it included a check for just a little more than that heating bill.  That family didn't owe my sister anything, but that gesture had my sister, mom, and cousin in tears for a good long time.  Another example of the essence of life and the power of love and people.

Maybe I am more keenly aware and in touch with these moments because I am holding onto every last morsel of goodness that I can experience with my mom, but I don't want to lose this appreciation for love and the essence of life when she is gone.  I want to teach my son to experience it sooner and to help create it for others.  I want to be a vessel that can bless people.  I want my life to be about more than just myself, my family, and my career.  I want to be fully engaged and present in the big and small moments, because I want to truly experience the essence of life on a daily basis.

My mom is doing pretty well.  She is holding steady.  She is only able to get up to use the bathroom, otherwise we hang with her in bed.  The food network has been our entertainment as of late, and my mom has actually been able to eat a decent amount.  Unfortunately she still isn't really able to swallow pills and we have not been able to manage the pain in her foot.  Prayers for the pain to decrease, and for her to be able to sleep and be comfortable would be greatly appreciated.

Remnants

I love the little remnants of my son's life.  The pieces all around our home that remind me that he is here and that our lives have changed.  We are no longer the young couple sans kids with a clean and organized home.

I love making our house a home.  On a budget.  Yes, I joke about our ghetto fabulous fixes, but truly, I take great joy in making our house a home.  

Grayson has taught me a new appreciation for this.  No longer is our house a very clean home.  I usually don't put away laundry until I am out of nursing pads or bras...or it is piled so high that even I can't take it.  The floors get vacuumed when I go to put my kid down on them and realize it's been a while.  The windows don't get washed.  Ever. 

In the past I would think that this was not the way to keep a home.  But times have changed. 

I now love coming home and seeing his little blue bath tub filled with bath water from the bath Jon gave when I was gone.  I love seeing pacifiers scattered around the house as I continue to try to convince him that these things are a good idea and that he should like him.  I have yet to determine who has more will power, but I think Grayson might win. I love seeing his little socks wherever they may fall.  I love his obnoxiously colored toys that now consume our living room because he has yet to outgrow the swing, but if he's not tired, would much prefer the jumperoo.  I love that my house feels lived in.  I love that a little boy has taken over my house, and also my heart.

Because let's face it.  This kid melts me.  So I have no desire to clean the windows or the floors when I could be up in my kiddo's face babbling with him.  I would prefer to see who can babble louder.  Or if it is a crazy rainy day in January, and I work tonight, I would much prefer to just nap with my babe snuggled in bed with me instead of putting him down in his own bed, because I'm going to miss this terribly.  I'm going to miss the snuggles where he fits in the crook of my arm.  I'm going to miss the babbling competitions.  About every third day I get overwhelmed by the state of my house and the fact that I can't do it all. And then I have to talk to myself like a crazy person and remind myself that the days are long but the seasons are short.  And I am truly going to miss this.  

One day the jumperoo will no longer take up too much space in my living room, I will no longer find little socks everywhere.  One day it will be just Jon and I again.  But until then I want to treasure the little things.  I want my house to be lived in.  I want to take in each long day because it seems that my kid is growing at an exponential rate and I have no way to slow it down.  

So today I will revel in my new perfume of baby barf and snuggle with my crazy little man.  I will continue to tickle him while he still can't figure out how to laugh.  Instead all this energy gets stuck inside him and he lets out a big snort with a grin across his face.  Today I will take him in. I will even take the dust bunnies on the floors today, because they can be cleaned tomorrow. 

Angels Among Us

Through this season of struggle and sadness, we have been beyond blessed.  We have been surrounded by love and support, and I have learned that the power of community and people is potent and life changing.

As we continue to walk in the valley, it has gotten harder in terms of task and exhaustion.  It is hard to be with someone who is dying.  I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I feel like I have learned to function with a constant level of heart ache and anticipation for what is going to happen when my mom goes to heaven.  It is a hard place to function in.  It is hard to take care of your momma when you want nothing more than for her to be able to come over to help you learn how to be a momma to your new baby.  It is hard for my sister to live with my dying momma.  To be the changer of the puke buckets in the wee hours of the morn.  To want nothing more than for your mom to have peace, but for you to know the empty place that will take residence in your heart when she is truly gone.  It is just hard.  And while my mom's body shuts down, she really doesn't want to spend much time with people other than immediate family, mainly my sister and I.  This isn't how she wants to be remembered, and she is so tired that it is hard to maintain conversation.  While people always have good intentions, sometimes she just wants to sleep and it is uncomfortable for others to sit in silence or curl up in bed next to her.  So she has started to say no when people want to visit, and it is her decision to make.  But for my sister and I, this has been so hard because this means less help.  And honestly, we need help.

When my mom was in the hospital there were a group of us that would often spend the night with her.  My cousin Debbie was one of them.  She was actually who was with my mom when she was originally transferred down to University of Chicago.  She stayed with my mom in that new scary setting.  She slept upright in the small chair and stayed overnight when we weren't supposed to in the ICU.  Debbie is the one person who was able to weasel into my mom's inner circle.  She has been able to help my mom bathe and cry. She has been able to come and support  my sister and I in a way that no one else has.  Words cannot express my gratitude to her.  Words cannot express the amount of relief I feel when she walks through the door.  Whether it was the hospital door down at University of Chicago, when I was about to go off the deep end or now at the town house. My world gets better when she walks through the door.

I don't know how she did it.  I don't know why my mom is so comfortable with her.  I don't know how we would walk this without her.  We have been so supported and loved by so many people, but Debbie just gets it.  She gets that helping us clean allows us time to just sit with my mom.  She gets that the bed bath that she gives is one less that we have to give.  She gets that we didn't have the energy to unpack and decorate the town home, so she did it.  She just does things.  She doesn't ask and she never asks for anything in return.  She has been selfless to her core and I am eternally grateful.  I don't have a way to repay her, I can not reimburse her time or her energy.  But I do have my words, and I want her to hear that she matters and that she made this road better.  She gave us the ability to escape for a little bit and to breathe.  She stepped up.  She has been Jesus to me, and to my mom.

So today I am thankful for the many angels among us, but especially Debbie.  I am thankful for her heart and her soul.  I am thankful for her humor and her laugh.  I am thankful for gentle hands that made our house a home and that hugged my mom through some of the roughest nights.  I am so thankful for her.  I hope she never feels like she has to come and lose her weekends with us, but I will gladly take any time she is willing to spare.  I hope my mom's pouty face when she has to go back home is translated into love, because it is.  My mom loves you, and so do I.  I've never seen her pout when anyone has left in her life.  Ever.

I hope one day I can be a Debbie to someone.  I hope I can be someone's angel.  I hope I can walk in and just "do".  I hope I can convey a level of comfort and love without even trying when the situation surrounding me is one of discomfort and strife. I hope I can serve people in a genuine way.  I hope I can grow up to be like Debbie.

Love you Deb.  So, so much.

Sexy Back

I survived my first weekend back at work, and honestly, I liked it.  I missed it.  Slowly I am able to blend the idea of the working momma and the at home momma, learning that it is OK for me to love both.  That I can be a better mom by also doing what I love and working and challenging myself.  I am learning it is good for Grayson to see me working, for him to spend time with other people that love him.  Granted I lost my cool when I was supposed to work Tuesday night, and said lovely child pulled one of his sleepless days, which then led to a sleepless day before a 12 hour shift for this momma.  Luckily I was called off and did not go bonkers.  Grayson proceeded to spend a great deal of the night awake, so I was awake and not making any money, but alas it was still time with my babe.

My mom is leveling off again, and honestly, it pisses me off.  I want as much time with her as I can get, but it is so hard to be constantly preparing my heart for the loss and then to have it dragged out.  It is also hard when I know my mom is ready for an upgrade.  She is eating a bit more now, but this still isn't a life anyone would envision for themselves   So I will continue to pray for her to quickly and painlessly go to her forever home.  

I had a sick and twisted dream the other day.  My mom had asked her hospice nurse what she could do to speed up this process (yes we are all morbid and twisted).  She said she can stop eating and drinking (sounds like loads of fun) or over exert herself which might cause another heart attack (which is difficult to do when my mom can barely muster the energy to get up to use the bathroom).  So in my dream I was with my mom and she decided she wanted to dance.  When she got up and we started dancing to "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake, she did indeed have another heart attack and I hugged her as she danced into heaven.  I do believe that there will be dancing to "Sexy Back" in heaven.  I woke up sobbing.  This up and down is hard.  This limbo land is hard.  Wanting peace and time all at once feels impossible and counter intuitive.  So I will hope for more good days.  I will hope for more conversations between her and Grayson, which are indeed the sweetest things in the world (he likes to coo and talk to her more than anyone else).  And I will continue to hope for eternal peace.

Life with my babe is so different than I expected.  He puked in my bed yesterday, and I still hadn't gotten clean sheets on it by the end of the day.  Having spent a great deal of my life with children, I thought I would have this whole parenting thing nailed down.  I thought my kid would sleep and my boobs would work flawlessly.  Ha.  It is all a learning curve, and slowly I will adjust to this new normal.  I will let go of all the dust bunnies that reside on my floor.  I will get over the fact that I used to make really cute shirts for my friends babies, but have yet to make a single thing for my own because I can't even get sheets on a freaking bed.  I am learning that Grayson is just a really hands on kiddo and he's mine for a reason.  So I will cherish him and love him and start to taper off the inappropriate things I say in his presence in the wee hours of the morn before he can repeat such things.  Baby steps.  I will take baby steps.  Because even now as I type this, my little squirt is actually taking a nap and it has been more than 20 minutes.  Hallelujah.  

Speaking of "Sexy Back," I joined Weight Watchers with my sister.  I also started doing Insanity with Jon.  Unfortunately I got really sick last week and fell off the insanity boat.  I will get back on that one tonight or tomorrow.  But it's time to get my own sexy and body back.  Apparently pregnancy weight doesn't just fall off of me.  So I will work for it, and I'm so grateful to not have to work alone.  And I will have to exclusively breastfeed my child for the next 2 years because those 14 extra points make a big freaking difference.  Just kidding.  Kind of.  I really like those points.  Maybe I will just pump forever.  Or maybe not.  O.K. I'm done rambling.  Jon and I took embarrassing "before" pictures to be able to turn in for an insanity T-shirt.  We will do anything for a t-shirt.  If the "after" pictures are flipping fantastic, maybe I will post the "before".

Decided this post needed some Grayson pictures:

I kind of love the stink face.  How is my babe three months old?

Dreaming

You know that sleepy state, where you think you are awake, but really you are still dreaming?  Everything feels so real that when you wake up you question what really happened.  That happened the other day.  I woke up after going downtown with Jon for our anniversary and this whole last year hadn't happened.  I hadn't had this sweet baby boy.  I hadn't carried him for nine months.  My mom wasn't dying and life still made more sense.

I miss that dreamy state sometimes.  I think it was just a culmination of feeling like that for the whole previous night out with Jon.  My sister had watched Grayson, and for the first time in a long time Jon and I had some alone time.  It felt like we had been transported back to last year, most likely because we ate at the same awesome restaurant and I found the ticket stubs to our adventures of last year still in my nice coat pocket.  I obviously don't wear my nice coat enough, but that is O.K. since it was $5 at a garage sale and I found $5 in the pocket after buying it.  Win.  We do however need to do more things that demand a nice coat here and there.  I don't see too much of that in my future since nice coats no longer look nice covered in baby barf, but I digress.

At times I feel like it is next to impossible to integrate this last year of our lives into the previous ones.  This new normal feels anything but that.  It feels foreign and like it is dragging on forever.  How long do we have to pray for the peace of death?    How long can you slowly grieve someone while they are still alive, and what will it look like when she is actually gone?

New years was wonderful.  Jon and I spent the night with my mom so that my sister could go out with friends.  Grayson, the sleepless wonder, didn't disappoint and I spent a great deal of the night up with him and my mom.  My mom has really struggled being able to sleep lately and she gushed about how much she loved the night and not being awake alone.  I would doze here and there with my babe in my arms, but it was a wonderfully restless night.  Never thought those words would have come out of my mouth.

So we will keep living in this limbo land, this dreamy state that I wish I could wake up from and make go away.

I go back to work next week.  I'm petrified and ecstatic.  I'm so pumped to see all my friends, but I am so nervous about working a night shift when I feel like I barely function during the day.  I'm also scared that I won't be able to help with my mom as much.  I am just going to plan on these next two weeks being a challenging transition, but we will once again reach a new normal as we always do.

While I feel like I have more to say and process, I am being summoned by the hungry beast, so I must go.  Happy Sunday.