Sadness

I need to write...I don't want to write, but I need to.

I need to get out of my heart everything that's bothering me.

Please don't say, "you shouldn't be so hard on yourself," or "Don't listen to your negative thoughts," or "She'll be fine, she's ok." I just want to talk without judgement, for once. Why is it that people think I need to be told what to do all the time? I HATE being told "You should......" I just need those two words banned from vocabulary, everywhere.

Just listen, please.

Carissa is going to physical therapy. Her last orthopedic appt. didn't go so great. I went in thinking everything was going to be hunky-dory. I wasn't stressed, I wasn't even thinking about it. And then the doc says, "Her right hip still looks a little loose." I covered my eyes with my hand, as if to block out the x-ray, and slumped. I couldn't believe it. I thought we were done. I thought she was going to be fine, it was complete, over, perfect. No. Her hips are unstable, that means she doesn't like to stand, she feels wobbly. But if she doesn't stand, her hips will not form correctly. She needs the pressure of standing to form her hips. It's a viscious cycle. We have to go to physical therapy to help her stand and walk.

I sob on the way home. I don't know why, but I do. I realize that I'm terrified....of I don't know what. Before I had a baby I imagined watching her stand, watching her pull up and walk. I never imagined it being in a physical therapist's office. When we go to my mommy group or baby story time I see all the other babies standing, crawling, taking steps. They aren't scared. They don't hurt. They are making the transition easily and normally, with some falls, of course. Carissa is delayed. It hurts to think about that. It makes me so sad. It's a sadness I didn't even know I had that just wells up from deep down in my heart. I don't know what it's about.

And then we go to the physical therapy appointment. She isn't crawling, she scoots on her bottom and pulls with her hands. I never thought that was a bad thing. I never gave myself a hard time about it. The doctor never told me she needed to crawl. The books all say it's an optional milestone. Dr. Siegel, the orthopedic surgeon always said some babies just walk and skip crawling. So when I spoke to the physical therapist, she gave me a ton of reasons why it's good for babies to crawl. It involves their trunk muscles, which scooting doesn't. It helps their hand-eye coordination and their cross-over skills, which scooting doesn't. She could more easily get to her knees to kneel, which now I have to train her to do, to engage her muscles that help stabilize her hips. Why didn't I give her more tummy time? As soon as she learned how to sit I gave up on tummy time. She played more easily from a sit than from her belly. She always cried when I gave her tummy time. And lots of friends said their babies hated tummy time, too, but they all learned how to crawl. I wish I had known how much it would have helped her, particulary with all of her problems now.

Death Day

I don't know why I'm hanging on to this anniversary, which was actually yesterday, of the night that Shane was hit. I guess because it was probably one of the biggest life changing moments I've had so far.

Shane was riding his scooter to work at 8:00 p.m. when he was run over by a 19 year old girl in a Jetta. Both of us lungs collapsed, his liver--obliterated, head trauma, femur--broken, as well as many other bones in his body.

I had decided to go to bed early, and as usual, I didn't have my phone with me, and it was on silent. On a whim, I decided to check it. I had 8 missed calls from the same number. Strange, I thought. Only one voicemail. It was the police, no details. Very strange, I thought. I called Shane, "I got this call from the Colorado Springs Police, do you know what they want? Alright, call me back, bye." Then I got the call. "Where are you?" he asks, "Your husband has been in an accident. You need to go to the hospital and you need to plan on staying there all night." "All night!" I thought. "I have to teach in the morning!!!" Wow, was I in denial? Shock? I don't know. All I know is that God's amazing love wrapped around me like a blanket and got me into clothes, got me into the car, and got me safely to the hospital. I didn't even know where it was, but I got there.

I didn't know it, but the police were waiting with the girl at the scene to see if Shane made it to the hospital alive.

I should have known the severity of it all when I was ushered into the little private room in the ER and was given a chaplain. "But I want to be out there with all the normal people, why am I in here?" I thought.

Dr. Fisher: His blood pressure is 0, we're taking him into surgery right now.

Jean and Paula came and listened to Dr. Fisher and watched me for my reaction: completely blank. I don't even remember what Dr. Fisher said after the surgery.

The next morning reality came home. "When are Shane's parents getting here?" asked the nurse. "Next Friday." "They need to get here, NOW." "Why, he's going to be ok, isn't he?" "I never said that," said Dr. Bogarin. "What?!! What are his chances?" "About 50/50." He's a great doc, no bedside manner. I thought, "Why didn't we have any kids?"

I just realized this, but they had me stay in the little house next door to the hospital for three nights that is usually reserved for the family of cancer patients. They gave me the small, private room at the end of the hall in the ICU. They didn't expect him to make it.

Peggy, "Don't listen to Dr. Bogarin, he's going to live! He's going to make it! He's strong! I can feel it! He's going to make it! God's grace is on him, I can feel it!" If it weren't for Peggy's attitude, I wouldn't have made it, and maybe Shane wouldn't have either.

That night and next day and the next 6 weeks were so life changing. When I think back on that time I know the power of God's grace. I know I contained a strength that was not my own. I gave myself totally up to that power. I surrendered everything, and got back everything, and more.

Life is Grand

Life is indeed grand, but I have trouble putting all I'm thinking about grand life into thoughts and pictures. When I think, "Life is grand," I think of all the inbetween times. Times that don't mean anything, but really mean everything. I think of The Most Beautiful Place. It's this place that Shane and I passed through while backpacking with the dogs one summer. We were so hot and thirsty and had just hiked up Payne Creek. We stopped and drank from a creek and looked around. I must have been delirious from all the hiking and lack of water on the trail, but I thought, this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It was a giant grove of aspen trees on top of a hill. That's all. And I was there to see it.

I think of being in the hospital waiting room and realizing that I am really and truly loved and cared for. "People really care, people are truly good inside," I thought as complete strangers shared their heartbreak with me, shared coffee and meals. When friends called from all over the United States to say they were praying for us. When friends and co-workers brought over meals. When my dad took three weeks off of work to stay with me.

Life is grand when I look at my baby sleeping and think, "I am so unworthy to take care of this little one, but I was blessed with her anyway."

Life is grand when I realize how lost I would be without Shane's love.

Gratitude

Ok, Filoli, I just read your friends referral blog, which was wonderously wonderful, and now I feel like a total jerk. Yes, that is an ANT, Shane, but that's beside the point. I've had this amazing baby for almost a whole year. I got to feel her every flip and flop in my belly, got to hear her first cry, see her first smile, hear her first laugh, and have gotten to spend almost every moment of her entire life with her. And what have I done? Complained!!! Ok, maybe not entirely. But I have done quite a bit of whining about her fussiness, the loss of freedom, the loss of being soley with my husband, loss, loss, loss! But I have GAINED this incredible human being! and been entirely ungrateful. Filoli, you especially must think I'm a big jerk, sorry. Your friend is over the moon in love with this little person she hasn't even met yet! What incredible love! But in reality: what incredible work. Ok, I'm not complaining, just being realistic. Sometimes we forget what little miracles we are entrusted with everyday and we just go through the motions. Diapers, feedings, crying, crying, crying, what do you want!!!!! But then, there it is! I'm over the moon again because she is laughing hysterically at her papa licking the oatmeal cookie covered egg beater thing.

Family Picture

Ten and a half months old and growing!

Thought I'd just do a quick update on Carissa. It seems like all of a sudden she has accomplished some things she's been working on for quite a while. She said Papa today! For a while now she's been working on whispering the soft little pa sound. But this morning Shane and I were in the kitchen, he had just gotten home, I was drinking my coffee and Carissa was in the playpen watching from afar. "Papa!" Just like that. Shane and I look at each other and smile and gasp, then he goes over there and bends down and she says, "Paaaaaaaa," and holds up her arms for him to pick her up. It was soooooo cute. I'm so glad I saw that. He melted. She can stand! With my help, of course. I was even having her try to pull up on the table today. She doesn't really enjoy standing, but it's coming along. She says, "ball ball ball ball ball," when she's playing with a ball. When the ball rolls away from her she can lean over and instead of grabbing it, which she has learned makes it roll away from her, she cups her hand around it and bats it toward herself with her fingers. She knows how to watch t.v. now. I know, not a real milestone, but still. I thought it was interesting that when she was younger she would totally ignore the t.v., but now she knows there are some fun things to watch on it. She eats most of her food with her fingers now, although she's pretty darn picky. I feel like I'm feeding her the same thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least it's pretty healthy food. Peekaboo is still her favorite game ever. She gets a real kick out of hiding under a blanket. Sometimes she'll just hang out under there for a while. What is she waiting for, I wonder. I guess she's just intrigued. This week she has learned how to get from her belly to a sitting position, a HUGE accomplishment, I think. And, this week we started to "discipline" her. I know, it's time already. When she is getting ready to throw food on the floor I say a warning, "ummmmmmmm!" Then when she throws it I say, "uh-oh!" and pick her up and put her in a room alone for about a minute. She doesn't seem to get that this is supposed to be a punishment! Well, it's good practice for me. I'm learning that the baby is smart and can be trained when she does something that is unacceptable. This morning I gave her that warning, "ummmmmm!" and she put the grahm cracker back on her tray and shook her head no! Wow, maybe it is working!! I think she is signing back to me, too. I've been trying to teach her, "all finished," when she is finished eating (cakes are done, people are finished). Today I really think she signed back, even though she really wasn't finished eating. Carissa's world just keeps getting bigger and bigger. Completely amazing.

Perspective

I took a tour of all of Carissa's baby pictures today.....amazing. It's amazing how much she has grown, how beautiful she has become, how much of her own person she is becoming, and how much I love her. Just looking at each of her pictures, even if I was troubled when I started, my heart has softened as I have finished. It is so unexplainable. I don't even like her sometimes!! She can be a brat, a hellion, a demanding, selfish----baby! But she's mine, and she is incredible. I've realized this week how much I struggle with certain things, how I know I struggle with them, but I can't help but be this person I don't want to be. I pray I can keep growing and becoming more beautiful, to grow out of my demanding, selfish babyness. I've never pretended that I have it all together, that I am perfect. I'll never hide the fact that I will always need help. There is so much more out there, and in me.