Saturday, November 26, 2011

Turkey Day 2011

I can't believe it but yet another holiday has come and gone. Don't you remember growing up? How the year seemed to just drag on and on. It was if Thanksgiving and Christmas, especially Christmas, would never get here. Now as an adult I find myself wondering where previous days and months have gone. They just seem to fly by now.
Thanksgiving was a wonderful day for us. I have so much to be thankful for even if I do have this dark cloud called Crohns disease hovering above me at all times. As hard as I try to not dwell on my condition it always sneaks its way into my thoughts. I tried to keep myself medicated during our festivities which took place on both Thursday and Friday, but I did end up sick towards the end of our day Thursday. I didn't think I was going to survive the drive home. It seems like the more I hurt, the more bumps in the road there are.
I did manage to snap a few pictures of our two day event. I think my family is becoming more and more appreciative of the fact that I take pictures of every function. I managed to coax my sister Megan into taking a picture of Daniel and I with the girls. I love it and would love it even more if my husband would stop being such a darn scrooge when it comes to pictures and actually smile once in awhile. Addison not having her fingers in her mouth would have been a nice touch as well but what can you do, right? Don't you love the girls matching outfits? I know I will only be able to do such a thing for a few years, if that, before they both start forming their own outfit opinions. My MIL loves purple so I made sure we wore the purple outfits on Thursday which was where we spent half of our day. We spent the other half with my Mom's side of the family at my Aunt Linda's home.
Friday we spent with my Dad's side of the family. My sister Nikki and her husband recently moved three hours away from home so that he could begin working at a new job. This was the first we had seen them and my nephew Dylan in awhile and I was happy to get to spend a few hours with them before they head home sometime this weekend. Nikki is expecting their second baby who is due March 7th. This birth is already giving me She had a tough time delivering Dylan and now that I will be almost three hours away, there is a good possibility that I may not make it down there for this one. I just can't see myself traveling three hours away being as sick as I am. I honestly don't think I could handle that long of a drive. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I will be healthy enough to help welcome this newest edition to our family.
Speaking of babies...I swear I just had this one. Cadence is another fine example of time flying by. I can't believe she is nine months old now. Look at how big she is. Daniel's been getting a real kick out of her these past few days. She can now clap on command and he thinks its awesome. Addison went to town on her Thanksgiving dinner last year, which would have put her at nine months as well. For whatever reason Cadence just didn't care about it this year. I think we are behind with giving her "big people" food so it's partly our fault. Even though Addison is only a year apart from Cadence I still find myself wondering things such as when we started Addie on solids, big people food, and forget when she started to crawl and walk. We keep trying to compare the girls to one another developmentally and have to remind ourselves that each of our little ladies is different. No matter what, they are both so darn cute I can barely stand it. I am so lucky that God chose me as their Mommy. Below is Daddy with his mini-me. Daniel can try to deny Addison as she is my spitting image, but Cadence, Cadence is all Daddy.
"Here Daddy, let me try to do something with your hair."
Addison with her cousin Dylan. I'm pretty sure their I still can't get over how big they are. Dylan turned two in October and Addison will be two in February. Slow down babies...slow down!!
Every Thanksgiving for the past few years, the Murphy's have done an ornament exchange after dinner. I started the tradition a few years ago when Daniel and I started hosting Thanksgiving dinner in our home. I figured it would be a way to kick off the Christmas season. I took pictures this year of everyone and their ornaments.
Look at my Uncle Dan and Aunt Robin...she's actually smiling for her picture. Uncle Dan loves doing the exchange, even though they don't need a holiday kick off. It's Christmas at their house all year long. Just call them Mr. & Mrs. Claus. It's not a far fetch if you really think about it, just look at Uncle Dan's Plus they were wearing red.
With the end of the Thanksgiving holiday comes the beginning of Christmas at our house. Daniel and I are some of the few remaining that refuse to decorate before Thanksgiving. He was just complaining the other day that some of the stores were already putting out the Christmas decor. Even the radio station that plays 24 hours of Christmas music until Christmas started playing it before Thanksgiving. I just want to savor each holiday individually so I refuse to rush them along by overlapping them. I think part of the Christmas appeal is that it only comes once a year. For me it makes me enjoy it and savor all that it is about all the more during that time. I feel if we add days to the celebration it will make it less meaningful. That's just how I feel though so if you are one of the ones who put your tree up before turkey day, go about your business, I'm not judging you!!
The end of Thanksgiving also means time to start shopping. Daniel and I are both really excited this year. Addison is big enough now to realize, to an extent, what's going on. We have some really great gifts idea for both girls this year and I can't wait for Santa to bring them. Of course we have to wait for Santa to get paid again, but I imagine everyone can relate to that.
Here's to a great Christmas kick off. I hope everyone enjoys the next month as much as I plan on trying to. Mine will consist of vicodin and phenegran cocktails, but I'm going to try to enjoy my days to the best that my body will allow me! Tonight is day one for us. We're getting pizza with family and afterwards...we're going to buy and decorate our tree!!! Growing up we always had real trees at my Mom's house and they were always my favorite. Just the smell alone makes having one worth it. Daniel's family does the fake tree route which is fine, especially since prior to this year we had been using a fake tree that his Mom gave us a few years back when financially we weren't able to buy a tree. I've decided that for this year we're going to get a real tree and after all of the fake trees go on sale after Christmas, we're going to purchase a nice big, full, fake one, and we're going to alternate between fake and real every Christmas. That way we can enjoy the best of both worlds.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I'm falling apart Part II

In April of 2008 we said good-bye to my Grandma Murphy. There are no words to describe my feelings for this woman. She was the back bone of our family and the one we all always ran to in our times of despair and happiness. She was our rock and now she was gone and we were all distraught. I'm not sure if her death and the grief and stress that it caused me is what caused my Crohns to flare or not but I imagine it didn't help me. Lord forgive me for even thinking it or writing that down here on this blog. If she for one minute thought she was responsible for making me sick she would be rolling in her grave. She scolded us all in the hospital after we all realized we were nearing the end with her, for crying over her. Even upon her death her main focus was her two boys, her daughter in law, and her three girls. Forget the rest of them...nobody and I mean nobody, loved her the way the six of us did and I can guarantee that they don't sit in their homes even to do this day still crying for her. Crying like I just did this past Thursday. Wishing that for just a few minutes I could have her back. Have her back in her house, in her recliner, with her stash of candy just down the hall. To be able to stand beside her in her chair, bending down to kiss her good-bye, while squeezing her hand. Her small, soft, cold, wrinkly hand. The hands that cooked so many meals and held mine so many times.
This past Thursday is when my reality set in. It only took three years. Three years of suffering endlessly, of taking medications with side affects far worse then my disease. The mass on my liver they discovered back in 2005 is just that, just a fatty mass, not cancer. I dodged a bullet. I dodged a bullet only to begin taking medications that may one day give me cancer. I was sick but not miserable between my diagnosis and before my Grandma's death. But Grandma passed away and with her death brought the symptoms of this disease that I thought I would never deal with.
Blockages that required hospital stays, pain and bloating that is severe enough to drop an elephant to their feet, exhaustion that just can't be described. And nothing helped me, none of these terrible medications that may one day kill me, not changing my diet. NOTHING! And through all of this, my Grandma's death, being sicker then I've ever been, I also faced another challenge. I was desperate to become a Mother. I wanted what my Grandma had...I wanted that love and compassion...I never wanted to be alone again. We had been trying to conceive a child even before our wedding. We actually started trying casually the day we learned our offer had been accepted for our home. We figured we had all these extra bedrooms...we may as well put them to some A pregnancy never happened though and then I got sick and distracted and finally in 2009 when I just couldn't handle everything all together anymore I gave up. I said to God, "God, if it's meant to be, I know it will be. I'm going to get better and then we're going to see Doctors to fix whichever one of us has the problem and then we're going to have a baby!" And with that a 300 pound weight lifted from my shoulders and with a sigh of relief I moved on. And just a few weeks later Addison Grace Blankenship started growing inside me. I was still sick but God blessed me anyway.
My pregnancy was pretty uneventful. Like I said I was still sick but with each month my sickness eased a bit. I gave birth to my healthy baby girl in February of 2010. I'm not sure if it was because I was on cloud nine from finally becoming a Mother or what, but I don't remember if I was still sick or not. I'm sure I was but since I had this bundle of joy to occupy my time and thoughts I must not have dwelled on my sickness much. I was so overwhelmed with joy that three months later we did it again, we were pregnant with our Cadence Leah. For more years than I want to remember we struggled with infertility, we questioned whether we would ever be blessed with the joy of parenthood and here we were, not only parents to our beautiful baby girl, but we were going to be parents for a second time. I do remember having issues again with my Crohns, like I said, I don't think they ever really went away, I think they just got muddled in the back of everything else that was going on in my life. I was a new Mom, was expecting my second child, had just lost my job, and had just made the decision to walk away from our home and move in with my Mom in order to save money and stay at home with my children. I had a few episodes during my pregnancy with Cadence that left me unable to care for Addison. I truly believe that God works in mysterious ways. I know God played a big part in the timing of my pregnancies and my lay off. There's a reason why all of this happened when it did and I now know why we are living with my Mom.
I was one of the lucky few women who's Crohns disease tend to go into a remission like state during pregnancy. For that I am thankful. Unfortunately I am one of the many who go into serious flares after delivery. My body didn't really have time to flare after Addison's birth before I got pregnant again. But boy oh boy, has it caught up with me.
I've been in this flare since 2008 and now I am at a point of no return. In April of this year the symptoms that had left me so miserable before Addison's conception, slowly started showing their ugly faces again. Pain, nausea, bloating that is so horrendous you think your stomach is going to explode, constipation followed by extreme bouts of diarrhea, intestinal blockages, fever, night sweats, vomiting, weight loss, blood loss, and vitamin deficiency. All at the same time, at all hours of the day...morning, noon, and night. Never any relief.
My first hospital visit of the year took place in August where they discovered after all of these years of severe inflammation, my colon had started to form an abscess that instead perforated. I had a hole in my colon which was allowing my waste to leak into my body. I had a major infection, required three blood transfusions, and stayed for four days in the hospital. The perforation was so small that the hope was that anti-biotics, steroids, and new medication to treat my disease would allow it to close without surgery.
I was back in the hospital for another four day stay in September after a CT scan showed that the perforation was still there. I was once again released without surgery and on another round of medication. Between the start of this process and now I have lost almost fifty pounds which is unheard of while on steroids. I have had days where I have begged God to take me home and then begged for forgiveness for my weakness. I have experienced pain that is so unbearable I can't be in the same room as my daughters because the slightest touch or sound of their whines or cries throws me into a panic attack. I have had moments of dread at the thought of my husband returning home from work because I am so physically exhausted the thought of making him dinner or asking him how his day went is just to much for me to handle. I spend hours by myself in the evenings laying in my bed while my family spends times together in the playroom, all because the pain is so unbearable that I need complete darkness and silence to allow me enough strength to concentrate on getting through it. I sit rocking back in forth in my bed with a fan blowing for those moments of when my fevers break and I am drenched in sweat. Moments during the night where my fevers get so high that my body shakes so out of control it hurts. Those very same moments where I feel so cold that no matter how many blankets I lay under, no matter how thick my socks, or heavy my sweatshirt...the chill just won't go away. And then my baby awakens from her sleep looking for her last bottle of the night and I have to beg God to give me the strength to get out of bed to get her one and then beg him once again so that she'll fall back asleep right away, all so that I can be miserable in peace.
This past Thursday, when I cried for my Grandmother, I cried because it's time. My biggest fear has arrived, my reality has set in. My luck has run out, or at the least, I've realized that it's never been about luck. I need surgery. I need surgery in order to get better, yet I'm so ill, I can't have it.
There are no more medicines to fix me, only to heal me enough to withstand a major and very complicated surgery. I can have the surgery now, but a surgery now means being hours away from home. It means wearing a bag attached to my side collecting my waste. It means losing feet upon feet of my intestines. It means being hospitalized for weeks. It means months of recovery. It means a second surgery in the future.
For now, I am waiting. I am waiting in hopes that my new medication, that I will self inject, will start to heal me. I am waiting and praying that no further damage is done to my kidneys which have been affected. I am waiting in hopes that a surgery can be delayed long enough that the surgery can take place here in Dayton. I am waiting in hopes that this medicine does heal me and that I won't need a bag. I am waiting in hopes and prayers, that these next few weeks that my Doctor has given me to show signs of improvement, that my suffering is minimal. I am tired of suffering. I'm tired of days where I can't properly interact or take care of my girls and husband. And mostly, I just really, really want to enjoy my holidays with my family and I would really like to do it without having to drug myself just to get by.
Even through this all, I am constantly reminded that things could be worse. While there is no cure for my disease, it is treatable. The side effects that I will one day face because of this disease aren't something that I'm looking forward to, but at least I will be alive. I will be alive, and while I may not be well, I will be able to watch my children grow and prosper. I thank God for that and I scold myself for cursing his name when I am at my darkest depths. One of the hardest things about my disease is that it is invisible to most. I've lost all of this weight and everyone keeps complimenting me on how great I look. When I fix my hair and put on makeup and have a smile on my face I look healthy. Only my closest family knows the truth. They are the ones that can tell by the look in my eyes or by the way I have my hands clenched when I am not doing good. They are the ones who can tell by the sound of my voice when I'm trying to get through the pain without bringing attention to myself. They are the ones who have walked this journey with me. They have spent countless hours waiting for me to get out of the bathroom, sitting by my bedside in the ER and hospital. They are the ones that know that when I am around they can't fiddle fart around in the bathroom because we never know when I will need to use it. Many would find that funny, but they know the anxiety it gives me and they take it seriously. I swear, if it weren't for my mom and husband right now I would have been to the hospital many more times this year. They have picked up the slack when I have dropped the ball. There have been a few days these past few months where I literally just couldn't get out of bed. I could barely raise my head from my pillow. On those days is when my Mom turns into super Grandma and takes over caring for the girls while I sleep it off. Its those days when I realize that I lost my job for a reason, and that there is a reason why we walked away from our home and moved in with her when we did.
It's because God knew this was on my horizon...

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

I swear I'm falling apart here!!

I thought I would give an update on my current health situation. I know some people are interested in the details and since I'm not shy, why not share, especially if it might help others understand this cruddy disease.
I guess I'll start from the beginning so that everyone knows when I started on this journey.
I can't remember a time when I didn't have issues with my stomach. I remember as far back as third grade having those moments of worry. One of the biggest issues I face with this disease is the fear that it causes. The fear of having to use the restroom and there not being one available or having to use it and not being able to. As you can imagine being a small child and having that fear puts a damper on being a student. Always worrying about whether your teacher would allow you to use the restroom in the middle of class or a test if needed. My health was never serious back then, I was just always in the restroom. My Grandma Murphy affectionately called it my office and upon her death a few years ago, my family thought it was appropriate that I be given her stash of toilet paper. She was a child of the depression era and she liked to keep stocked up on
I guess it was because my issues never got severe that my parents never thought it was necessary to take me to the Doctor. I often wonder how different my life would be had I have been diagnosed with my disease as a child. Would I have done better in school, would I have excelled in sports, had boyfriends...gone to my senior prom? Most importantly, would my health have detorirated as quickly as it has in the last five or six years if we had been treating it since childhood?
I was barely twenty-one when I started getting seriously sick. It started slowly and by the spring of 2005 it was in full swing. I was in constant pain, unable to eat therefore losing drastic amounts of weight, there were times when I was so weak I couldn't even stand up. Through it all I refused to admit I had a problem. I would wake up each morning telling myself it couldn't continue, that I would give it one more day and I would be better. It didn't get better, it got worse. I had times when I couldn't control my bowels, moments that I didn't even realize because it just happened. Never in public thank God.
We had just said good-bye to my Grandma Hockman, I had just moved in with my cousin Heather into our Grandma's house, and most importantly, Daniel and I had just started dating that spring. Can you imagine the fear I was facing and also trying to hide it from the boy that I liked? This went on for months. Heather and I had a lovers spat, which we tend to do every few years, we're so much alike its ridiculous somtimes and we have horrible, horrible Murphy I moved in with Daniel and then all hell broke lose. I was so sick one night, I was almost uncoherent, unable to get off of the couch. It was then that I knew I couldn't go on any further. I knew I had a problem and I needed to get help. I made an appointment for the following Monday afternoon.
Obviously making an appointment was the right thing to do, but I knew for sure it was the right thing to do after going out to dinner with my Mom and Step-Dad for my birthday dinner. Two or three bites into my meal and I was ready to die, they both looked at me and I remember my Step-Dad saying it was time to see the doctor. Here are two of the people who ignored that I was sick growing up finally realizing that maybe I was afterall and that it was time for me to get help.
Fast forward to that Monday. I barely made it through work that day, did I mention that I worked full time during this entire ordeal. I still to this day don't know how I did it, but I did. I will forever remember that appointment as it became quite memorable. The place was packed, no bathroom in the waiting room...Crohns patients HATE that by the way, and they were running behind. I remember signing in for my appointment and watching each and every person sign in after me and then it happened. A person who had signed in well after I had, got called back to see the doctor before I did. Lord in heaven I about came unglued, actually marched my sick self up to the receptionist and asked what in the hell was going on. I caused a scene and didn't give a care in the world, that's how sick I was. Normally I don't like bringing attention to myself. It worked though...I got called back right The nurse stopped me in the hall to check my weight, height, and lastly my temperature. She took my temp, looked at me and said "uh, you are most definately sick aren't you?" "No lady, I just thought I would drop by for a visit!" I didn't really say that, but I thought it gosh darn't. The adventure got better though, they had a girl come in and check all my vitals and stuff. She was a student and it was her very first day on the job. The head nurse decided that I needed to have some blood drawn and thought it would be a good idea for the student nurse to give it a shot. We didn't know then how hard of a stick I was nor did we realize how dehydrated I was. Poor girl, she didn't stand a chance. I passed out and had what they think was a full blown seizure. HA, scared the girl so bad that they told me she never came back to I guess if you can't stand the heat then get the heck outta the kitchen right?
I knew I was in big trouble shortly thereafter when I heard my Doctor on the phone with the hospital. They wanted to send me by ambulance but I had my car there and I just wasn't mentally prepared for that. He allowed me to go home but I was to be at the hospital for testing by 7 o'clock that night. My Mom and Grandma Roock went with me and by the time we were done I was exhausted and miserable. Mom had the audacity to stop by Taco Bell on the way home, now if that isn't cruel I don't know what is.
Monday came and went and Tuesday was a new day, a new day to drag myself into work. Did I mention I was new to this full time job and had no time off of work? Once again, not sure how I managed to do it but I did. I got through the day and was on my way home when my phone started going crazy. Everyone was looking for me because apparently my company received a call looking for me, still to this day don't know if it was the hospital or the doctor, but because I wasn't answering my work phone, they paged me. The page went to twelve different buildings and since I worked with half my family and they knew I was sick, they got crazy. They called my Mom and she called me. Of course when I called the Doctor to see what was going on they had no clue about a phone call and had no news for me. It drove my Mom crazy and she in return drove me crazy because I had no clue what to tell her.
The phone call came that evening and the only part that I remember hearing from my doctor was that they had discovered a mass on my liver but he was pretty confident that it wasn't going to be cancer. Cancer...he had said the word that I had feared the most during this entire time. All of those moments when I was in so much pain I thought I could be dieing were becoming reality. Maybe I really was that sick? How in the world was I going to get through this and most importantly how was I going to call and tell my Mom who was currently sitting in the high school bleachers watching my brothers play soccer? Especially since we had just had a cancer scare with one of my brothers who had discovered a lump on his neck. Two kids sick in such a short time span...I couldn't imagine. I made the call and I still to this day do not remember a single word I spoke or single word she spoke. After the call I sat quietly on the front porch waiting for them to return home. I don't remember what my thoughts were other than that I was scared to death. I do remember them getting home and one by one my brothers, sister, Mom...who had been clearly crying, and my step-dad marched passed. Each one with a look of distress and not knowing what to say. My step-dad was the last one in and before going through the front door he bent down, put his hand on my shoulder, and told me everything would be ok and proceeded inside. This side of my family does not do emotion. We don't hug and kiss and say I love you. We know we're loved, we just don't show it or express it so you can imagine for me what that hand on my shoulder meant. That hand on my shoulder was my hug, it was my kiss, it was my I love you, it was me realizing that they were just as scared. My Mom reached out to my Aunt who had battled thyroid cancer and she came down in hopes to reassure me that everything would indeed be ok. We didn't even know if I had cancer for sure but we knew things were going to be scary.
I made a call that night to my boss and left her a very detailed message about what I had been dealing with and what was going to be taking place. I stressed that I was fearful of losing my job and losing my insurance but told her I didn't know what else to do. She called me that morning and actually scolded me for not telling her sooner how sick I had been and reassured me my job was not in jeapordy. She told me about FMLA and told me how to go about obtaining it through our HR department. She took a weight off of my shoulder is what she essentially did. I cried and held her tightly when I had to say good-bye to her a few months later after she had learned she had been laid off from the company.
I had an appointment with a digestive specialist that day, which once again I won't forget. My Mom, Grandma, and Aunt went with me and I remember the four of us being stuffed into a tiny exam room where we discovered that I had somehow stepped in dog poop before my appointment. Talk about embarrassed...the smell was horrendous and I can only imagine what the doctor and nurse must have thought. I also remember the poor nurse when she was trying to schedule my very first colonoscopy and my Mom telling her to make it late in the afternoon because she had to take a nap. Seriously, I could be on my death bed Mother and we are scheduling things around your nap schedule??
Anywho, we made the appointment, I spent the next day doing my prep. The drink was horrible, and the day spent in the bathroom was even about having a sore tushy! Friday came without fail, I was a little nervous about my first colonoscopy. I mean seriously, who likes the thought of having their tush in full view for some strange doctor to view? All I could think of was, is it clean enough, do I have any unsightly blemishes and then I would remind myself that surely there are worse looking butts out there than mine! At least mine wouldn't be hairy!! HAHAHA
My nurse was awesome, she got my IV in on the first try and I remember that it didn't hurt one bit. I actually asked her if she could always be the person who gave me shots and IV's and then they wheeled me back. Of course I don't remember much after that...hello propofol or whatever that lovely white liquid is called. I know why Michael Jackson liked you so much!! Only my Mom can really tell the story after this point. I was so drugged I don't remember much. Apparently I asked the same question over and over again. If you have ever had a colonoscopy done you know they won't release you until you start, dare I say it, pass gas. She kept telling me to pass gas but wasn't really rushing me at this point. That was until they wheeled in the 300 lb. hairy, middle aged man who was brought in by his Mom. He wasn't shy about passing the gas like I was, and after he started Mom was hell bent on getting outta there and quickly. Seriously, this story gets told at almost every holiday dinner and each time is like the first, she can barely get through the story because she finds it so freaking funny.
Of course things weren't so funny after the Doctor delivered the diagnosis. I don't remember either of us saying much and honestly, I don't think it really upset me as much as it would have now. I was young and after years of always wondering if my problem truly was in my head and not a reality, here I was with a diagnosis. My problem had a name and being truly naive, I assumed there would be a cure or at the least medication that would make me all better and I would never have to worry about going to the bathroom again, right? RIGHT? Wrong!
If I only knew then what I know now, my reaction would have been much different. I wasn't stupid, I knew all about the complications. I knew most would endure at least one surgery because of this disease but I was different. I was going to be that person who was always going to be lucky. I wasn't going to get that sick ever again... I was never going to have to deal with a scary surgery...and I could continue to eat and do whatever I liked. And then 2008 happened and reality hit me upside the head.
To be continued...

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Wutch ya doin'?

Posting pictures first because I don't have the patience to rearrange them throughout the
Laptop-check, cell phone-check, all set to do some business!!
Grins and giggles as usual!
Addison, I mean Dorothy...
Eating dinner like a big girl!
Chewing on the cord to the shot vac, no it wasn't plugged in.

I'm getting pretty good at this once every few months posting deal aren't I? Seriously, I have good intentions of blogging and then something always distracts me and I don't get around to it. I'm still planning on combining both the food blog and this baby blog about our little family but I'm still in the process. So for now, I'm going to post here about whats been going on with our family!
Where do I even begin? First off, I'm still dealing with the perforation in my colon. We've been treating it since August and it has left me physically and mentally drained. They've given me stronger pain meds because the pain just got unbearable and I completed my third CT scan yesterday afternoon. As of right now I haven't gotten the results back yet. I know full and well I could call my Doc and he could go in and review them today but my gut is telling me that my colon is still perforated so to be honest, I'll wait the extra day or so to hear for sure or not. Surgery will definitely come into play if this thing doesn't heal, I'm just not sure how much longer my doctor and the surgeon will keep postponing it. As scared as I am of the surgery, more importantly the recovery, I'm to the point that if we are going to do this, I would rather just get it done and over with. Especially since we've already met our out of pocket expenses this year with our medical insurance...thank you to 3, yes 3, almost $30,000 (each) hospital stays for belonged to my delivery with Cadence. Anyway, keep praying for me that my body heals. My inability to do anything right now is really taking its toll on not only me, but my husband and mother as well who have had to pick up my slack. I'm not kidding, I made dinner yesterday, completed my scan, and washed Daniel's bedding and I was EXHAUSTED by the time we actually ate dinner. Of course taking care of a very active toddler and a now crawling baby doesn't help my
Now on to the important stuff...little girl updates, up first Addison.
Addison is officially 21 months old as of today...happy birthday sweetie! We are full swing in the terrible two's and if I manage to make it through this perforation alive and well, it's Addison and her temper/attitude that will do me in. I don't even know where to begin with this child. You absolutely cannot let her out of your sight because it's amazing the things she is able to get into. We can now climb. What started out as climbing and sitting on the end tables in the living room, climbing onto the kitchen table via the chairs, has now evolved into climbing on top of the kitchen counters thanks to the bar stools. She has also learned to climb out of her crib, which has the changing table attached to it, so we've switched her crib with Cadence's and so far it seems to be working. She does not like the word no, at all, and her usual response to no involves screaming at the top of her lungs and throwing herself to the ground. It also occasionally involves throwing things and hitting her sister, poor Cadence. We keep telling Addison that one day, Cadence will be big enough to hit her back and it's not going to be pretty. She loves food and will eat just about everything that her Daddy and I will...that even includes spicy. Our favorite accomplishment of hers right now is she can drink out of a big girl cup like a pro and has been for a few if only we could get her to eat a little better at dinner that would be awesome....I swear she ends up wearing most of her dinner at night.
Her vocabulary has really taken off here lately and we love hearing her talk. She can now say Mommy, Daddy, Sissy, Sassy, horsey, doggie, what did you do, as well as lots of other things. Her favorite thing to say is "what did you do" and it usually comes after someone has released a bodily function which cracks us up. What is even funnier is that no matter who made the sound she always blames it on Cadence..."sissy, what did you do?" If Daniel makes a sound she always says "Sissy", even when Sissy is in another room. Poor Sissy, gets blamed for everything already.
At our last well check up she came in weighing around 25 lbs. and was around 35 in. tall. She is starting to average out, just like her Mommy. She is like me in so many ways its scary...the inability to be patient, the temper...the poor kid even looks just like me.
I'm sure there are many more topics that I'm forgetting, but the doctors office just called and he wants to see me first thing in the morning. My mind has officially quit working properly and is now filled with complete panic, where's the prozac when you need it.
Let's move on to Cadence shall we....hopefully my panic can hold off for a few more minutes. At 9 months old Cadence is officially crawling and pulling herself up to things. She's been crawling for a few months now but it's been that lovely army crawl. We seriously thought she might bypass actually crawling using her knees and Her sleeping had been getting better but it seems for the past week she's been waking up a bunch more...not sure what the deal is. She's eating solids and loves eating her puffs. She is drinking out of a sippy cup now, though I think she really uses it more to chew on than to actually drink from because she is usually soaking wet when you go to pick her up. She is for sure our more sensitive child, just like her Mommy, and you really have to watch how you treat her. She was playing in the potting soil of one of my Mom's plants, for like the hundredth time, last week so I finally just gave her a little slap on the hand and gave her a strong and firm no for doing it. Lord have mercy, if her bottom lip could have stuck out anymore I would have had to have held it up for her, and then the crocodile tears started. Having to punish your child is probably the worst part of parenthood...I hate making them cry or upsetting them. Thankfully she doesn't seem to be interested in playing or eating the soil anymore so maybe the little hand slap worked. I wish Addison caught on that quick, I swear that child will just not learn. At her last doctor appointment she was around 18 lbs. and was 25 in. tall, of course this is coming from memory, which is shot by the way, so I wouldn't be surprised if she was 25