Headed to Hopkins

Tomorrow, we leave at O'dark 30 so I can have numerous tests and meet with new doctors about my health.  We're hoping for a confirmation of my current diagnosis and better treatment options, or confirmation of something else and treatment options for that.  Either way, we're praying fervently for answers.

I'm a little nervous about all of this.  Not because of the tests; I've been through all of these before, so I know what to expect.  I'm not even nervous about what they might (or might not) find.  What I'm most nervous about is the possibility of yet another doctor throwing her hands up and saying, "Well heck, I really just don't know what's wrong with you."  I don't have time to be sick, I don't have the patience for all of this pain and exhaustion.  I need answers and solutions that won't take me further out of commission.  I'm not necessarily at peace about tomorrow, but I'm not getting worked up about it either.

When I got the phone call that the program had accepted me as a patient, a friend was over here with her boys and we were all sitting around the kitchen table talking.  When I hung up after making all the necessary appointments, Shawn asked me when our appointments are.  Meaning:  We're in this together.  My friend's reply was that she'd take the boys that day, no matter what it meant for her schedule.  Again, meaning: I'm in this with you.  I've had many people praying for me over the past month since my appointments were made and there will be others in prayer for all of us tomorrow.  I'm nervous, but I'm not going into this alone.  Along with Shawn, I'm taking God with me (I'm sure He's having a good chuckle over that one!) and the prayers of my many friends.

One of the most comforting aspects of tomorrow is knowing my kids will be in good hands.  I naturally will worry that they are behaving and as their mom, I worry about their well-being any time they are away from me, but the point is that I don't have to.  They will be with great friends who love them almost as much as I do.  Avery calls one of them "Momseller" (a variation of mom and her last name); I just call her The Noah Whisperer.  My friend is going so far as to take a day off from work so she can be with my boys.  Her own boys want her to bring Avery (their honorary little brother) to their schools so they can show him off.  After a day of running her ragged, they will be passed off to another friend until we get home.

I'm not sure what they have planned tomorrow (I heard something about red dye, 'mal mert' and SpongeBob....), but unlike usual, I don't feel the need to micromanage or leave notes about my children.  I have a peace about me, knowing my children are good, capable hands and will have fun.


And besides, Noah will be here to micromanage and keep everyone in line for me, then report back to me when I get home!

"Me" Day

Excuse me while I brag on my husband for a bit.

We've had another one of those "left -field" weeks.  It was a long one and yesterday I lost my patience very early on with the children.  It felt like every time I tried to regain my parental footing, I was thrown off again.  In reality, I don't think Noah and Avery were really behaving any differently than they usually do; it was more about me and my mood.

Last night before going to bed, Shawn told me that Saturday would be a guaranteed Me Day.  He said he would keep the kids busy all day so I could have a break.  I told him it wasn't really necessary, I just needed a good night's sleep.

This morning I woke up at 8:30 without children in my bed (which is getting to be a rarity) and the door was closed.  Huh?  I stumbled into the hallway and was greeted with a freshly made latte, courtesy of my dear husband.  He quickly informed me that I would not have to answer to "Mom"--or any variation of the word--today.  I also would not have to do the much-needed house cleaning I've been grumbling about.  I was to take my book and go elsewhere.

 Honestly, I'm not quite sure what to do without my family.  I know I should take a break when it's offered, but I wasn't sure what to do or where to go.  Shawn was working hard on the house, enlisting the kids' help.  I told him I'd mop once the vacuuming was finished and received The Look from my husband.  I thought I was the only one allowed to give The Look.  So, I turned around and went outside. I cleaned out the inside of my car.  Wow, the kids has stowed away enough crumbs and leftover food to feed a small army.  Gross.  I came inside to make lunch and found the kids working hard on helping Shawn clean the house.  Well, Noah was helping clean, Avery was helping redistribute the mess.  I started to make lunch and was told to get out of the kitchen.  Shawn took over the lunch-making duties and told me to go relax with my book.  Um, okay.  We had a nice family lunch and then I was reprimanded for putting my own dish in the dishwasher.  Shawn took the boys outside for a bit, then set them up with a movie.  I was ordered back to my room with my book and cats.  The rest of our day went pretty much the same way:  Me offering to help with something and being turned down, Shawn running interference with the boys and taking care of everything else he could think of.

I'm not sure today went the way Shawn had envisioned (we've put the boys to bed early and he's already declared he's not single-parent material), but it was what I needed to recharge.  Shawn and the boys have expressed their love for me through their acts today.  It was more than that for me, though.  Shawn had a small melanoma removed yesterday and I know the things he did today were the last things he felt like doing.  His shoulder is all knotted up from holding it protectively due to the stitches, so he hasn't been himself.  He was uncomfortable and grouchy, yet he made sure I had a Me Day anyway.

I love this guy!

"However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband."  Ephesians 5:33

Dancing in the Minefields

Shawn and I recently celebrated our 11^th anniversary.  I’ve wanted to write a post about marriage and everything we’ve survived, but I wasn’t sure where to begin.  There are many things I want to say on the topic, but I haven’t been able to put them into the proper format or words.  I think I’m ready.

Shawn and I have known each other almost 18 years.  We met my junior year in high school.  Mutual friends who were dating wanted a couple they could double date with, so they set us up on a blind date.  We broke up my senior year after deciding our relationship wasn’t something we wanted to pursue and went our separate ways for college.  Then tragedy hit Shawn’s family and I decided track him down.  We started dating again and were unofficially-officially engaged for less than a few months when we found out we were pregnant with Noah.  *I say "unofficially-officially" engaged because we knew we wanted to be married someday, but also knew at that point neither of us were ready, so marriage wasn't the best idea (there's a huge lesson there kids, pay attention!)*  Our marriage got off to a rocky beginning and there were times neither of us thought we’d make it.  Now we’ve been married for 11 years.  I suppose the joke is on us! 

Our marriage is far from perfect—we argue, fuss and fight, disagree on quite a few things and have our differences.  But we also have fun: we laugh, we enjoy each other’s company, we love and we work things out.  Our marriage isn’t perfect, but it’s our imperfect marriage.  We make it work and we work hard to make it work.  I think the most important thing is that we want to make it work. We love each other and we want to be together.  When we found the divorce statistics for parents of children with special needs, we made the commitment to get through this together.  Honestly, I can’t imagine going through it with anyone else.  I don’t want to go through it with anyone else. I love being married to Shawn (never mind that if he hadn’t married me, I’d be the crazy cat lady living in my mother’s basement with a gazillion cats!).  I consider my husband my best friend.  God is my solid rock, but Shawn is my earthly rock.

My husband is a faithful, good man.  There were plenty of times he probably should have taken Noah and left when I was at my sickest.  But he stood by me, hoping I would get better and get through everything I was dealing with.  He took good care of me and remained faithful.  Shawn is a good dad, striving to be everything neither one of us had in a father.  He wants to be a better person, so he’s making efforts to do so.  We both want to be better spouses, so we’re both taking measures to do that, as well.   One thing we’ve learned is that we need more time together, just the two of us.  Continuing to date your spouse is an important part of a good marriage.  There are many things we’ve learned, but I won’t take up space here spelling them out.  I’m blessed each and every day by Shawn.  He works hard for our family, with the weight of the world on his shoulders.  It’s not easy being the only breadwinner in a family, especially when your wife and son have medical issues that need constant care. 

I have several favorite memories of our marriage that have shown me how Shawn loves me and “gets” me.  We were poor as church mice when we were first married, barely able to scrape enough money together for the deposit on the townhouse we were renting.  I had a cat at the time who was living with my parents.  The pet deposit on the townhouse looked astronomical to me and I wondered how we’d be able to afford moving Sophie in with us.  The night of our wedding, as we were leaving my parent’s house, Shawn told me to grab Sophie and bring her home.  I looked at him questioningly and he said, “It’s okay. I took care of it.”  To this day, I still have no idea where the money for the pet deposit came from, but in that act of love, Shawn showed me he understood what was important to me.  Again, being poor as church mice, I didn’t get an engagement ring before we were married.  It wasn't important to me—we had more necessary things to spend our money on—but it had always been a matter of pride for Shawn.  On our anniversary in 2006, Shawn finally proposed to me and gave me an engagement ring.  He was so sweet and loving about it, stopping in front of the prettiest floral shop on Main Street in the town we lived in.  I wasn’t sure what he was up to; he pulled my hand to stop me, got down on one knee and proposed.  Yes, people stopped to watch.  It was so touching to me that he took the time to be romantic about it, calling a babysitter and taking me out for dinner.  For me, waiting six years for the official proposal and ring was worth it; we have a cute little story to tell and it was more meaningful for both of us.  The story of how he got the engagement ring is another funny story entirely.  This year on our anniversary, I woke up to hear music in the hallway from outside our closed bedroom door, Shawn nowhere to be found.  I opened the door and there was Shawn in the hallway, wearing his black trench coat, holding his iPod over his head playing Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes, a la John Cusack in Say Anything.  He strives to make me laugh, make me smile and make me happy.  If you ask Shawn, he will tell you that he doesn't do enough for me.  If you ask me, I will tell you the things he does show me how important I am in his life and just how much he loves me.

Several months ago, I heard a song called Dancing in the Minefields.  It made me cry; I fell in love with it immediately because it just described so much of our marriage so well.   I originally heard it with a Christian connection, as a love song to Jesus.  But the video shows something different, a love song between husband and wife, made possible because of God.  There is no one I’d rather dance through the minefields of our crazy life in left field with.

Shawn, I love you.  Always and forever. God made you for me so we can dance together in the chaos of this world. 








http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Gs3fg_WsEg&ob=av2e