Sunday, February 28, 2010

March, please!


The month of February really left its mark on our hearts this year, and not because of Valentine's Day.

First, we started the month out by helping the boys in their continued battle against the dreaded Giardia bug. We racked up many sleepless night and our boys had quite the uphill battle towards recovery. Then, we miscarried another baby. It was a profound loss for us and particularly painful for me. We had a few other bumps in the road during the days that followed which were also quite difficult to overcome. And then two days ago something unbelievably horrific happened.

I'll be the first to admit that I am not the biggest fan of the Doctor's office. While I appreciate their healing hands, I am always put off by the crowded waiting rooms and the endless drug pushing at the conclusion of each visit. My last physical was five years ago which I know is truly inexcusable. This week I finally took myself to a Doctor five days after my miscarriage for a long overdue physical. My visit included blood work, a full physical and a complete patient history including a list of all my allergies (food/medicine/pollens).

While at the office the Doctor noticed a few swollen glands in my throat. She prescribed a pain killer and an antibiotic which J picked up for me the following day. I took my first dose at around 2PM and as time went on, I began to feel a bit flushed. I assumed this was due to my body's hormone readjustment after the lost pregnancy and so continued with the medicine. At 8PM I took another dose of the antibiotic and things started to happen.

My hands, lips, feet, and face began to swell. My breathing became a bit ragged at times. An overwhelming headache and a sharp pain in my abdomen started up. Then I began convulsing.
My arms, legs, and shoulders began shaking uncontrollably. I felt a horrible sense of panic wash over me. J phoned the on call Doctor and told him about my reaction to the medication they had prescribed. We were told to go to an ER immediately. We phoned my parents to come stay with the boys while they slept and thankfully my Dad came over right away.

As we started off down the road to the hospital I began to feel my chest and throat tighten. An unbelievable pressure began building and I could hear my heat pounding. We entered the ER and it didn't take long for a nurse to assess our situation. We were whisked off into the back room and suddenly found ourselves in a sea of nurses and ER doctors. They put me on a stretcher and immediately hooked me up to an IV. Forty five minutes passed. Several drugs, oxygen, and a few rounds of nausea later, I felt myself coming back. A wonderful male nurse stood by my side and helped me breathe while we waited for the new drugs to finish taking effect. He wasted no time in telling us the severity of our situation. My heart rate had hovered at around 185 bpm, my blood pressure was through the roof, and when we first entered the ER I was minutes away from cardiac arrest and almost certain death. I clearly understood two facts. First, my father saved my life. He came straight to our house when we called him. If he had delayed even a few extra minutes, I could have died in J's arms on the way to the hospital. Secondly, someone had made a big mistake at the Doctor's office.

During my visit the day before, the Doctor questioned me about my medical history. I quite clearly told her about my allergy to Amoxicillin, which she wrote on my chart. We have a copy of the chart and it is labeled ALLERGIES: AMOXICILLIN.


Little Death Pills

When J brought home my medication the day after my visit I noticed that the antibiotic prescribed was called Amox- several digits and letters. I didn't think twice about taking something our Doctor had prescribed. Oh what blind faith we put in little orange bottles of medicine. We learned at the hospital that the drug was in fact, pure Amoxicillin. I don't know if our Doctor forgot to read my chart before prescribing the medication or if the Pharmacy exchanged her original prescription for the Amoxicillin, but I do know that the mistake could have cost me my life.

The past few days have been a rough recovery. They warned me in the ER that the detox process would be less than pleasant. Sure enough the sheer exhaustion of the event weighed heavily on me the first 12 hours home, then I was overtaken by the most horrible rash I have ever experienced. LITERALLY head to toe. I couldn't move. I could not touch my children and they could not touch me. I lay in pain for twenty four solid hours, waiting for the ER prescribed steroids to kick in and give some relief to the burning pain beneath my skin.

No doubt about it, February was one hellish month. I lost a baby and then almost lost my own life days later. My family could have been planning my funeral today. Reflecting on all that has happened in one week of my life makes me feel trampled and a bit lost. But I also feel comforted and loved.

My husband picked up my load this past week. He held me while I cried over our lost child, he helped out with the children while I grieved, he took me to the Doctor when I felt ill, he picked up my medicine and then he took me to the ER, then he took care of the children once more while I lay bed ridden and broken. He brought me water and smoothed back my hair. He slept in a chair next to my bed at the hospital. He cleaned the house and made the sure the boys ate healthy meals. He encouraged me. He stood by me in sickness, the same way he does when we are in good health.

My parents stepped in and also helped with the children. My mother brought food and did our laundry, my sister came to help with the children, my best friend came and watched a movie with me. A dear friend from a far distance sent a package of love that brought tears to my eyes and reminded me how close we still are in spirit. My in laws called and wrote emails of encouragement. Our friends poured out words of love and covered us in their prayer. Best of all, the Lord protected me this week. I was minutes away from death, but He brought us to the ER and delivered us into the hands of a capable and compassionate medical team just in time. Yes. There has been immense suffering in our home these past seven days, but the suffering ushered in a tremendous outpouring of love and comforting in our sorrow. God is good.

This week I learned anew the love my Savior has for me. I felt secure in the love and protection of my beloved husband. I relished the sweet innocence of my young sons and felt their love and concern for my well being. I felt comforted by my family and friends. I will say it again and again, God is good.




Sunday, February 21, 2010

Hands

A week ago I had a huge smile on my face and a euphoric glow radiating from my body. A newly discovered little life grew inside me and I fully expected to have her in my hands by the late fall. I sang to her, read my Bible out loud for her in the mornings, placed my hand over her growing space and even had the boys chatter their little secrets to her. I day dreamed and fantasized over the coming months, I drew up nursery plans and met with my midwife to discuss our next home birth and I felt dizzy with excitement for the coming year.

But I had another miscarriage on Wednesday, the second one in five months. Now my hands, heart, body, everything, feel empty. I spent the week praying, "Not my will, but Your will, Lord." And I meant it. The grieving is numbingly real. The sorrow reaches deep into my bones and I feel this loss with every breath I take. My comfort is in Christ alone. This is one of those moments were I can only cleave to the cross, whether in pain, anger or confusion. I am blessed that I can share those feelings with my Lord and let Him heal me and care for my broken heart.

Cubby is teething and the Bear is suddenly experiencing a new found separation anxiety, these two combined leave me with very little time to myself. But even with all the usual hustle and bustle of the bungalow, I find myself craving projects for my hands. Something...anything... to keep my hands from yearning for the feel of my sweet babies that have passed away.

And so I keep working on Project Patio, I keep working on my quilt, I keep working on my writing projects, and I begin adding new projects like making homemade cheese, canning marinara sauces and fresh jams. I keep, I keep, I keep, I add, I add, I add and all this busyness propels me through my days until I can finally crawl into bed each night with my thoughts and my mourning and my exhaustion and into long conversations with Jesus.

My hands can't seem to find enough to do. I clean my house thoroughly, I garden, I play with my boys and care for them, and still I want more to do. I hope this insatiable craving for projects won't leave me work worn, depressed and crazy in a few months time. I just want to channel all that sorrow into making beautiful things and caring for my family. Its all I can do in a situation that is completely out of my hands. We lose control in one area, we are inclined to take control in another, really all I can do is surrender all control to God and His will. I'm sure this project panic will end in a week or two and it will end when two words echo loudly into my heart, BE STILL.

I am very thankful for the life I sheltered in my womb, however brief. I still feel content with my life and blessed by my family, I am grateful to God for what he has done in my life and I will keep blessing His name. But my heart is truly broken and my hands are aching for something to do just so I can get through the day. Memorizing scripture has helped me lately (add that to the list I suppose) here is one in particular that I hold on to. I'll sign off with these words that have brought so much comfort in the last few days.

Hear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy
Guard my life, for I am devoted to you.
You are my God, save your servant who trusts in you
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.
Bring joy to your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you.
Hear my prayer, O Lord, listen to my cry for mercy.
In the day of my trouble I will call to you, for you will answer me.
Among the gods there is none like you, O Lord, no deeds can compare with yours.
All the nations you have made will come and worship before you,
O Lord, they will bring glory to your name.
For you are great and do marvelous deeds, you alone are God.
Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will walk in your truth,
give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.
I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart;
I will glorify your name forever.
For great is your love toward me;
You have delivered me from the depths of the grave
Psalm 86: 1-13

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Little Loves

I am not really a Valentine's Day kind of girl. Not into decorating my house in pink and red marshmellow goo frippery, not into having weird expectations of gifts/flowers/chocolates/sonnets/hallmark tributes from my husband and not into the old obligatory, "everyone in your class gets a valentine or else" speech given by my mother every year until I finally reached middle school emancipation.

I know I sound like Scrooge but I really, truly don't get Valentine's Day as a cultural phenomenon. I do, however, love love. I made an effort this past Sunday to bury my smirking inner Valentine Scrooge and think of every day things that light up my life and remind me of love.

Here is a small list of the little things in life I find value in or appreciate that mean...oh so very much...to my heart.

-a warm rain shower in my hometown

-newly budding roses in the garden

-cookie crumbs on a plate

-vintage hair pins

-dog shows

-kneading bread dough

-lace of all kinds

-quilts

-lavender

-warm pie

-English Breakfast tea

-garbanzos

-reading my Bible first thing in the morning

-a framed picture of my great grandmother Ana in her heyday. I feel in my bones that we are exactly alike. And that small knowing feels so good.

-a framed picture of my sister and I sitting on a log bridge in the middle of a North Carolina forest as young girls.

-my mother's hands

-my father's eyes

-every single one of my grandparent's laughs. They all have wonderful laughs and I will do just about anything to hear them.

-mangos

- reading stories about pioneer women

-the way my husband sings

-my eldest son's feet

-my youngest son's mouth

-both of my children's voices.

-writing about Cuba

-the vintage flower bed sheets at my Abuela's house. They smell like her. Soft and reassuring. Whenever I happen to sit on her bed, I always bring a pillow to my face and breathe in, the scent of those old sheets brings tears to my eyes every time.

-watching my Tia Antonia make empanadas

-advent wreaths

-prayer books

-antique books

I feel warm and fuzzy just remembering all those things. And those aren't even the major things in life I love, just the small things that remind me to be grateful, or to smile, or to know that I am surrounded by love and family, to know that no matter what day of the year I am upheld and cherished by my Savior. I am thankful for the little loves that remind us of the big loves.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Project Patio

The past two months have been hard. The boys battled a range of illnesses which led to schedule upheaval resulting in ongoing exhaustion for J and I. Today the boys are napping normally for the first time in....oh...ages. I had time to make a cup of tea and draw out the spring/summer garden plans and make notes for the next few home projects.

I eagerly await the spring home projects. Some are simple and easy, others will require thrifty skill as our budget for these projects is minimal. For example: at the moment I am working on planning the patio makeover. Step one is a patio umbrella, which is not a cheap item! I am going to try and acquire an old weather beaten one that I can breathe new life into with fabric paint. And when I say "I" it means that "I" will buy the fabric paint and then plead with my genius artist of a sister to come help me transform said ugly patio umbrella into something fabulous for drinking Margaritas under. Step two of patio make over will be the window sill planters. Hmmm. Not sure how to go about this part but I've always wanted window sill planters bursting with flowers around my house. I could never line our whole house with these but the back patio could use a splash of color and nothing quite does it for me like planters filled with flowers.

One of the main reasons I am targeting the back patio is that for the first time in several years I will not be pregnant or hauling an infant around during the summer months. I want to enjoy our backyard! The pool, the large green space and above all, the patio! Florida feels like Hades in the summer. Truly, it is unpleasant. But I am hoping that with carefully planned shade and well-timed activities, this will be a great summer for my boys. Not to mention those delicious summer nights of sitting out on the patio with my true love, a glass of wine, and a powerful mosquito coil radiating a not so romantic citronella scent. In the coming week I'll be deciding on the final color choices (again, heavy reliance on my sister's opinion). Its good to have a project for the hands. :)

Cubby has just started whimpering and that is my cue to sign off. More updates on Project Patio in the coming weeks!