Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Sunday, February 26, 2012


So I got in a car accident, right? Well it was bad enough to deem our car totaled, and bad enough to do some serious damage to my back and neck. Appointments for medical care now fill up my calendar. And it feels like it's effecting every area of my life. The constant pain and general discomfort has made me more than a little cranky. I just HURT almost all day long.

Given that I speak freely on here about my love for Jesus, you may assume that I've been spending a lot of time in prayer lately about all this.

You would be wrong.

I'm by no means proud of that. Just trying to be honest.

Sure, I've been lifting up Jennifer and Kelly, and several other people in my life who are hurting or going through transitions...but praying about my circumstances? Asking God for comfort and patience and grace? Meh.

Spending time in the Word or just generally praising who He is? Notsomuch. Frankly I'd rather be sitting or laying down with my alternating my ice packs and heating pad, wallowing in my self pity about being in pain.

And yet He loves me anyway.

I know this because not only does His Word tell me so, but because He keeps whispering to me that it's going to be alright. And because He keeps sending people my way to let me know that He has laid me on their heart. All week long friends and random acquaintances have been calling, texting and emailing to say something along the lines of "hey, I've been thinking about you a lot lately...how are you?"

There have been many times in my life where I have actively sought Him and been seemingly unable to find Him. Where I've been seeking and spending time pouring over my Bible and in focused prayer, and yet I feel nothing in response. Those times are frustrating and can be difficult to persevere through. He tells us to continue to be obedient, so I aim to and press on believing He is there even when I can't feel Him.

And then there are times like this. Times where I'm not really seeking him or even spending time with him...and yet He reaches out to me. I hear Him even when I am so undeserving of His presence and grace. He whispers to me that He loves me. That it will all be okay. That He has my family in His Mighty Hands, and He loves us. He is seeking Me. And I am so touched by it. That the God of the universe would whisper to my heart even when I have been very nearly ignoring Him...just, Wow.

On Friday I got home from work just in time to sit down to the dinner table with my family. I had left before the kids got up that morning, and not been back all day. After dinner we played for just a little bit, and then it was on to bath and bedtime routine. I felt like I had hardly seen them at all that day.
Before David and I head to bed each night, we always go in and check on our babies. That particular night, as I stared down at my son and my daughter, I stroked their cherub-like cheeks...rested my hand on their backs as I felt them breathe...I was overcome with the most intense desire to climb into their cribs with them and hold them.

Because I missed them.

Because I longed to be next to them.

To let them know that I was there.

That I loved them.

That I wanted to spend time with them.

And it made me wonder...was God feeling the same way about me?

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Thursday, February 16, 2012


-Apparently I felt like one visit to the ER in a week was not enough for our family, because I ended up there Saturday night after being rear ended while sitting at a red light. Car is totaled, Momma is in pain. Not awesome. But, the babies weren't in the car with me. Everybody had car insurance. Awesome.

- Lately I've not made the time to blog, but I have managed to get some blog reading in. Did you Mommas out there catch this post? Beautiful. Timely. Loved it.

(yes, I've linked Stephanie's blog several times before. It's because she's so stinkin' wise ya'll, I can hardly stand it. Someday she's going to be famous, writing books or articles or something, and I only hope she'll remember us little people then...=) )

- And now that I've touched on how Mommy Blogs can make us feel worse about our mothering, let me go ahead and post some pics of some fun we've had over the last couple weeks... =). We've been really enjoying some OMSI fun lately. Thinking we might get the twins a yearly membership for their birthday!

- We've had the same Address Book since we got married nearly 8 years ago, and it's full of crossed out and re-written addresses and phone numbers. The Type A part of me decided awhile back to pick up a new one, and would you believe I haven't been able to find one? I've looked at Target, WalMart, and even Office Depot. It would seem I am one of the last people on the planet who likes to keep people's contact information on paper, in an actual book, as opposed to on my smart phone.

- We got Abbey and Luke little Mickey and Minnie dolls for Valentine's Day, and their favorite activity lately has been giving them "rides" around the house on their little vacuum and lawnmower.

- So I told you I started a new job last month, right? Well I kind of hate it. Hated it, would be more accurate I suppose. Due to a crazy set of circumstances prior to my arrival there, it's started of on an incredibly chaotic foot. It's hard to tell which way is up there most days, and I feel so unorganized and out of my element. It's only part time, but it feels so overwhelming. My first few days there I seriously thought about quitting. Well, I started to ask several people to pray that it would get easier. And people prayed.
You know that phrase "Lord move the mountain, or move me"... ? Well, He moved me. I found out recently that 149 people applied for this very position. One hundred and forty nine. And I was selected. Turns out, it's an honor to be working in that crazy, chaotic environment.

- Just try and tell me you've see two cuter bundle up babies than these two...

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

The Story of the Pretty-Pretty

Once upon a time there was a sweet little girl named Abigail. She was a curious, adventurous, stubborn little thing who brought her parents immeasurable amounts of joy and kept them on their toes.

One evening, Abbey and her brother Luke were playing nicely together in their room, when Abbey started crying. Daddy went in to check and found his sweet girl pointing to her nose and saying "ow!". Daddy brought her out into the living room for some Momma Hugs, but the crying continued. Then sneezing occurred. Lots of sneezing. The Momma and Daddy pondered what could be the cause of these tears, and decided perhaps their baby had bumped her nose on something, so Momma doled out some infant ibuprofen. The sneezing continued, as did the tears. When the concerned parents asked their daughter where it hurt, she pointed very distinctly to her right nostril.

Suddenly it dawned on the Momma that something could be stuck up there. (Do not judge this Momma for being slow to suggest this, as she is tired a lot of the time, and her brain function isn't quite what it used to be. Also, neither of her children had ever shown any interest what so ever in shoving things up their noses).

Daddy grabs a flash light and looks...nope, can't see anything up there. Hmmmm....what could it be then? The parents are at a loss. Then the Momma looks down as she strokes her baby's hair and realizes only one lone pigtail remains - where there was once two.

Another glance with the flashlight confirms the Momma's suspicions. The missing purple "pretty-pretty" is indeed wayyyy up her daughter's nostril.


The parents do not panic, as surely this will be fairly simple to remove. They ask their daughter to "blow". She obliged, but the pretty-pretty did not move. Tweezers were brought into the picture, and still nothing. At one point the Momma closed the other nostril, and put her lips over her baby's mouth and blew air in, hoping the pressure would send the purple pretty-pretty flying out of her baby's nose...no go.

At this point the Momma decides it's time to call the pediatrician, who suggests the family head to the Urgent Care. The Momma grabs coats for herself and her daughter and tells Daddy and brother they'll be right back. The Momma is so confidant this will be a quick "in-and-out" at the Urgent Care that she almost doesn't even grab the diaper bag...but at the last minute decides to toss it in the van.

A short jaunt to the Urgent Care, endless paperwork and a 15 minute wait later, the Momma is explaining to the nurse what had happened. Sweet baby girl cries as she is poked and prodded for weight check, temp, pulse, etc. Doctor comes in and sweet baby girl FREAKS OUT as Momma holds her down while the doctor tries to examine her nostril. The doctor then proceeds to shock the hell out of the Momma as he declares "I can't even see it up there, and she is thrashing around way too much for me to even attempt to get it. I could injure her. You are going to have to take her to the ER to be sedated."

At this point, nothing - absolutely nothing- about this is funny anymore.

I seriously could not believe what he was saying. Sedated?!?! For a tiny rubberband up her nose?!?!

So from there I had to pack up my baby and head to the nearest ER. Thank God I have a friend who works as a nurse there, so I sent her a text message that we were on our way. It was miraculously slow in the ER that night, and they took us right back to triage where it was confirmed Abbey would need to be sedated in order to safely remove the pretty-pretty. We spent a long time waiting for a room in the ER to open up, which ended up being a blessing because it gave Abbey a chance to warm up a bit to her surroundings. It also allowed for enough time to pass between when she had last eaten and when they would begin the procedure. It also gave me a chance to accept the plan. And, it afforded some cute moments, like when I let Abbey play with my cell phone (normally completely off limits) and watched her glide her finger across the touch screen, reminding me in that one motion how much she actually watches me. Or when she put the phone to her ear and said "hi la-ler!", warming my heart to hear that her brother is the first person on her imaginary call list. Or when she walked towards the door, turned halfway around to look at me, held one finger up and said "be right back", looking about 13 years old.

Finally we got a room, and met our sweet nurse. She was so tender with Abbey, even bringing her a little teddy bear! The doctor came in and introduced himself. He was very calm, kind and reassuring. He said he would administer Ketamine, either via injection into her thigh muscle or through an IV. I opted for the shot. I couldn't imagine holding her down for an IV placement, and then fighting her to keep the IV in.

As he was explaining his plan, David arrived. (my sister Vanessa came to the house where Luke was asleep) I was so relived to see him. He is always so calm during these types of situations. The doctor ran his plan by David, and we signed all kinds of paperwork.
Throughout this time, Abbey and I were sitting on the hospital gurney, and she was playing with the remote attached to the bed, and my cell phone (note to self: pack more than 2 books in the diaper bag...those exhausted themselves quickly). She was pretty content, but carefully keeping an eye on everyone in the room. As we got closer to procedure time, she snuggled into me, clearly aware something was about to happen. A respiratory tech applied several leads to Abbey's body, which she didn't love, but tolerated. They had me lay flat on the bed, and hold Abbey against me as they gave her the shot. She screamed, which was to be expected.

That part didn't bother me so much. I've heard my babies scream enough time from getting shots. She clung tightly to me and I tried to hold her just as tight back, and stroke her hair and whisper in her ear...whisper that I was proud of her, that it was going to be okay.

She eventually stopped crying from the shot, and then just kind of laid there and cuddled with me for a bit. Then she started tripping out. THAT was hard. Her eyes were darting back and forth (the doctor had warned us that would happen, but assured us she wasn't in any pain) and she got a far off gaze about her. She kept lifting up off my chest and trying to reach for my face saying "Momma? Momma??" sounding so confused and slightly afraid. GAH that was the worst. It was all I could do to keep my breathing steady and voice calm as I said "Momma's right here baby" and softly sing You Are My Sunshine over and over while praying her eyes wouldn't be able to focus on the tears streaming down my cheeks.

It seemed to take sweet forever before she fully gave into the meds and let herself relax. At one point one of the 5 medical people in the room said "I know we gave her an appropriate dose for her size, but I think she is fighting it..."
That's our stubborn little girl for ya =)

The doctor was incredibly patient, saying he wanted to make sure she was completely relaxed before he even attempted to begin. Finally we flipped her over, so her back was laying on my chest and her face up. They used a nose spreader, long alligator clamps, and a flashlight, and they had the purple pretty-pretty out in about 2 minutes.

I was SO grateful they were able to get it out.

All in all, I'm grateful for the whole thing. The ER doc was explaining had we not realized she had something up her nose, it could have gotten ingested into her lungs and she very likely would have developed pneumonia. Something so small - and nearly translucent- may not have shown up on a chest xray, and we would not have been able to figure out why the pneumonia would not go away. It could have been very bad.

I'm grateful for wonderful medical care and kind staff. I'm grateful that my baby is just fine, and VERY grateful I don't have to do things like that often. I do not know how parents of chronically - or terminally- ill children manage.

After the procedure was over, they flipped her back over so she was laying on her chest and I could snuggle her into me. We were told it would be about 60-90 minutes before the Ketamine wore off, and then they'd want to keep her for awhile to observe her. Fine by me. I did NOT want to take her home until they were positive we were ready. Once everything was stable, the nurse felt comfortable trusting the monitors that were on Abbey to report any problems, and left the room to check on other patients. David and I switched positions for a little bit so I could eat something (I was FAMISHED but didn't want to eat in front of Abbey while she was awake, since she couldn't eat).

After that, David headed back home and it was just Abbey and me. The nurse had turned the lights down and given me a blanket. It occurred to me then that this time was a bit of a gift. Our birth and subsequent hospital stay were not exactly conducive to quiet, relaxed bonding time. This time was. I was so relieved that everything had gone okay, and filled with a Divine confidence that Abbey was going to "come to" just fine from the meds, so I just laid there with my daughter against me, and snuggled in our little hospital room for the next hour.

She started to wake up slowly, but eventually was fully awake, and in a fantastic mood. Yea and Hooray. We played on the bed for awhile longer while the doctor periodically came in to check on us and watch her vitals. It was a bit hard to distract her when she asked for food (they said we couldn't feed her until the morning), but other than that, she was great. They finally agreed to discharge us, and I was able to pack up my baby and head home.

It was nearly midnight when we got home, and Abbey was reaching for her crib. We had to check on her a few times throughout the night (Doctors orders, just to make sure her breathing was on track) and she did just fine. She woke up after 9am the next morning, famished and happy =). Praise God.

For memories sake: a picture of the equipment used, and the trouble-making purple pretty-pretty.

So if you don't see any pictures of Abbeygirl with pigtails or ponytails any time soon, it's because although she seems to have recovered fine from Monday night's events, Momma is still a little traumatized.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

She's got the moves like Jagger....

Every night as a part of our bedtime routine, we have a little family mini dance party. Really. We've found after bath and jammies, it helps get the wiggles out before we settle in to books and milk right before sleep.

Sometimes Abbey and Luke are super into dancing, and other times not so much. But clearly this night Abbey was ready to bust a move.