Tag: healing

lifestyle

But I Get Up Again

by motheringmillieLeave a Comment on But I Get Up Again
But I Get Up Again

Maw yelled to the kids, “Stay off the rocks around the pond; they’re wobbly!”

On an unusually warm day in early March, Millie and Wells were playing on my grandmas patio. Wells was finding pebbles (Presumably putting them in his mouth. Once, he spit out four rocks into my hand.) and Millie was rearranging a fairy garden as I tidied up their things, preparing to leave for the day. We waved goodbye to Maw as I backed out of her carport. I called Chris to meet us at the park on his way home but not five minute later, I called him back to tell him that both kids fell asleep. Babies sleeping in car seats always look so scrunched.

Unbeknown to me, Maw decided to leaf blow her patio. Without following her own advice, “Stay off the rocks around the pond; they’re wobbly!”, she stood on the rocks to blow away fallen leaves. I received a phone call from my mom, “Don’t freak out.” Maw was on her way to the hospital.

While leaf blowing, Maw stood on a wobbly rock and fell onto her hip, precisely on the edge of her patio step. She turned herself onto to her stomach and army crawled back into the house where she contacted my uncle, trying to avoid an ambulance ride. While she waited for him to arrive, she crawled herself into the kitchen and ate a lemon cookie. Who’s grandma breaks their hip and struggles into the kitchen to curb her sweet tooth?!

My uncle did not feel like he could safely lift my grandmother so begrudgingly, Maw went to the hospital in a squad. I was desperate to be with her but due to COVID restrictions, only one person could accompany her during her stay. Maw refused pain medication. She was taken for an MRI where it was determined she had a fractured hip bone. The next day, she received a full hip replacement.

Thank God the surgery went well.

The next day, Maw went home to recover. I was in disbelief with how quickly she was discharged. Maw had two weeks of around the clock, family supervision. I stayed over one night, Wells came with me because I was still breastfeeding, and that helped to lift her spirits. It was difficult to see her in pain as she maneuvered her way on and off the bed. I ordered her a hip kit that had long levers to help her with her independence without having to bend at the waist. I also installed a toilet lift so she didn’t have to squat down to use the restroom. She had physical therapists come to her house and they were extremely kind. “Most seventy year olds haven’t left the bed yet and you’re getting around so well!”

As Maw was healing, she also felt guilty for leaving me without childcare. She watched both babes while Chris and I work and with this falling accident, she was out of commission for at least six weeks. I called thirteen child care facilities, desperate to find a reputable establishment that would accept my kids in the middle of the school year, and most could not accommodate both children. Finally, I found a school that could take both kids however, they were almost $3K a month – completely out of our budget.

We were incredibly blessed with beautiful people willing to help us during this stressful time. My friend Lindsey was available to watch the kids on her days off and my friend Shauna babysat the kids while she worked from my couch. My friend and co-worker Amy spoke to her in-home childcare provider who was able to watch my kids on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She was affordable, an easy commute, and had glowing recommendations from other teachers who trusted her care. She was reliable and kind. This was a God send.

A week into our new childcare schedule (Chris watched the kids while he worked from home on Monday and Friday, Tuesday and Thursday the kids went to Rhondas, and Wednesday was a wildcard.) we noticed bite marks on Wells. One on his arm and one on his foot. I noticed that the size of the bite mark was small but there were a lot of teeth. It was confirmed that a little girl with dwarfism was eating Wells up. We found out that she had done this to other kids before and with a new baby brother at home, she started biting again. Another bite happened on his belly and one on his leg. His parents were mortified. Wells learned to say, “No bite!” Which came out as, “O ite”. They actually became sweet friends.

Millie loved playing with the children all day. There were two girls her age; they’d put on tattoos, draw pictures, make necklaces, and put on singing performances like JoJo Siwa. Millie would help me pack their lunches the night before; picking out what fruits and vegetables she wanted included. For breakfast, I would put a pack of pop tarts in Millie’s lunch bag and it was her job to share one with Wells. Millie’s social interactions confirmed for me that she was ready for preschool in the fall (more on that in a later post).

Rhonda was so great with our Vegan lifestyle. If there was a birthday celebration, she would make sure there were dairy-free cupcakes for my kids. She gave every child an Easter basket and ours had vegan treats and thoughtful, personalized gifts. The kids noticed that others were eating chicken nuggets for lunch so Millie mentioned that they eat vegan “chicky nugs” at home. Rhonda bought them and kept them stocked in the freezer. It was extremely comforting knowing the sitter was accepting of our dietary needs.

Since starting childcare outside of our home, our family has never been more sick. Someone has had a snotty nose, sore throat, fever, goopy eyes – you name it, since March. We were in and out of doctors appointments every other week; amoxicillin for ear infections, two different eye drops, Tylenol Fever Reducer, Tylenol Cold and Cough. We had a fully stocked pharmacy in our medicine cabinet. Anytime I would try to plan something fun for us to do on the weekend, Millie would spike a fever and Wells would have snot hanging from his nose. We rotated viruses around the house. The germs from childcare were worse than my first year teaching (and I thought that was a kick to the immune system). I’m praying that Millie will have some antibodies to help her with the germs she’ll be around in pre-K.

Wells’ second birthday party was postponed – if we had the party on its scheduled date, it would have been the day Maw got home from surgery. A month after the party was originally supposed to be held, we threw Wells a shark themed birthday and Maw was there to help us celebrate. Maw didn’t let her hip keep her from the kids during the holidays. Millie and I went over to Maw’s house for Saint Patrick’s Day and we decorated shamrock cookies with green glitter and crafted a clover garland out of toilet paper rolls. For Easter, we went to Maw’s community celebration where the kids got to hunt for eggs and win door prizes. It was fun for the children but I was concerned about Maw getting hurt; she could have fallen down, gotten pushed over by a kid, tripped. etc. My anxiety was high.

Three months later and Maws hip healed. She was diligent with her therapy and put in the hard work to feel better. She has a gnarly scar. Her knee is giving her trouble but the hip surgeon mentioned that her knee locked up during the surgery – it could be something she gets work on down the road. She watched a video of a hip replacement on FaceBook and the force that was used to hammer the joint in place could have very well been what affected her knee. Wells will continue to need childcare in the fall and we will split the week between Maw and Rhonda. This will allow Maw to schedule appointments during the week and some much earned rest time after running after Wells.

grief

Love and Loss

Featuredby motheringmillie4 Comments on Love and Loss
Love and Loss

My Millie,

This post has been so difficult for me to write because my current reality is incomprehensible. When you are able to read this, time will have lessened my waves of sorrow however, right now, it’s all very raw and emotional. I’m going to try my best to write through my grief so you can see your mother’s honest vulnerability.

On September 22nd 2019, your aunt, my only sister, completed her battle with bi-polar depression. How can I begin to explain the person she was? Words cannot describe her contagious laugh. The mere stories I will tell over the years will never give justice to her vibrant life. No longer is the person who would sing to you in your car seat to make you smile. How can I possibly make you feel just how much she loved you?

Your aunt was the sun, our Shani-sunshine.

Bright– Shani was so incredibly smart and she was such a good student. I teach with women who taught your aunt in grade school and they all loved her personality and work ethic. They refer to her as one of their favorite, most memorable students of their careers. Throughout her schooling, she had completed her masters degree in psychology and was working towards a Psy-D, Shani was always the “teachers pet” and proudly, the top of her class. I always thought, if Shani was in school, her mind was in the right place. I knew nothing about the mania that accompanies bi-polar disorder and what she felt necessary for the success in her prestigious, doctoral program. Her energy source was the same disorder that would lie to her and put her down.

Nurturing – Our bodies need the sun’s vitamins and you could call Shani, my vitamin D. If I was having a bad day, or I was walking alone in a parking lot, if I needed someone to talk to, Shani was only ever a phone call away. She loved to FaceTime with you and we would, daily. She was the first person to babysit you while I went to my six-week OB appointment and she took the sweetest pictures of you inside of your stocking. During the last phone conversation we had together, she commented on how sweet your little voice sounded and how much she missed you. We were making plans for her to come visit for your second birthday and how she thought I was ridiculous for wanting to rent a kangaroo.

Shani and I would talk about our futures with one another; pool side, on the porch, sitting on her bed in the early hours of the morning. She always said she would carry children for me if I wouldn’t have been able to. She was so excited when I told her I was pregnant for you. She said that she would be the “cool aunt” that you could go and live with during your rambunctious, teenage years. She wanted you to be able to talk to her about your crushes and all the awkward things you wouldn’t want your mom knowing about. She threatened me by saying that she’d tell you all about my years in high school. She had plans to help pay for your college. She had plans to care for you and her future family.

Your aunt knew a song for every occasion and she had an incredible voice. When she auditioned for women’s chorus in high school, she sang, “Lean on Me”, which is incredibly fitting for the friend that she was. If we couldn’t spend Thanksgiving Day together, she’d call me up and we’d sing the turkey song over the phone. On the day you were born, she kept singing, “Edelweiss”. Small and white, clean and bright. You look happy to meet me. She listened to all genres of music; gospel, show tunes, rap, country, etc. She even dabbled in recording. Her range was great and she had an ear for harmony. I had amazing opportunities to hear Shani sing; beautifully at a wedding reception, in the church at Bridgewater, and my favorite memory of her voice – singing to you cradled in her arms.

Shani cared for everyone. It didn’t matter race, sexual orientation, social status, etc. When we were kids, she would find dead mice in our garage and make beds for them out of old shoeboxes and try to keep them as pets; completely disregarding Gams wishes to throw the dead rodent away. In high-school, she started an equality club for the LGBTQ community (sorry if I didn’t use the correct acronym, Shani – she would be quick to correct me if it’s wrong). She got a speeding ticket in college while taking her sick roommate to the hospital. Shani had no money to give but she gave freely to friends and causes, despite what I had to say about it. She had clients who clung to her every word and had her cellphone number incase of emergencies.

Shani would make sure everyone was well fed. She loved tomato sandwiches in the summertime. Shani was always the one to cut up the fresh pineapple. Your aunt worked at Johnny Rockets, a diner where she would dance and sing in between serving milkshakes and she had so many regulars because of her bubbly personality. She had so much fun baking my bachelorette party cakes; one black and one white, you’ll understand that when you’re older. Shani was always first to try my vegan recipes and was supportive of our family’s lifestyle. Last year, she urged everyone in the family to stop using plastic straws for the sake of the sea turtles.

She took you to the beach when you were six months old and bought you toys to play with in the sand. She always bought you things that would help grow your brain. The Veggietales DVDs and Noahs Arc toy were gifts from her for your dedication because she wanted you to grow in Christ. She wrote you a book and bought you so many books; she didn’t just read them to you, but she encouraged you to read them aloud. Shani cared about the students that I taught, too. My second year of teaching, Shani bought my entire classroom clipboards for my birthday. She helped run a fundraiser for my class to get ukuleles. On her spring break, instead of sleeping-in, Shani ran the music for my choir concert.

I desperately wish that she could have turned off the voices inside her head that told her she wasn’t good enough. To everyone else, she was vitamin D.

Dazzling – Her beauty was effortless. We are so fortunate to live during a time where pictures and videos can be retrieved in seconds because some of her radiance was captured in those quick moments and short clips. She exuded confidence. (Now, I question how much of that was a facade due to her disorder.) Men wanted her and women wanted to be her. She would talk about getting her ears pinned back, having an eyelid procedure, and needing a boob-lift; I vetoed the surgical nonsense every time she brought up because your aunt needed none of that. She had the most shiny hair, the quirkiest placed dimple under her eye, an hourglass figure, a pixie nose, and most petite hands and feet. The Friday before Shani took her life, I told her that I wished she could see herself the way that I saw her, but now I know that the darkness of the disorder would prevent her from feeling that way.

Consistent with the rising sun is unforgiving darkness and unfortunately, Aunt Shani experienced that, too.

Your aunt struggled to find men who were worth a damn. There were plenty of men interested in her and she would date them when she felt like it but she was notorious for falling for the guys who needed, “fixing”; the divorcee, military men with ptsd, her exes. I told her many times, you can’t force someone to change and that we only have control of ourselves – but the disorder kept her from having control of her feelings. Shani told me that she would never, “settle” in a relationship and that she believed in soul mates; I argued with her about this. I wanted her to find stability in a relationship. Now, I wish I could have done more to help her obtain stability within herself.

We shouldn’t stare directly at the sun. I would wait for the “right time” to tell my sister things, not knowing how she would react. If you would ask Shani a personal question about her love life, significant choices, or her mental state, she would quickly change the subject, get irritated and defensive, and remind you that she was, “fine”. My sunscreen was you. No matter how frustrated she’d be with me for asking too many questions or how upset she’d get when I wouldn’t agree with her on a political stance, I could change the subject to you and her entire attitude would change. She always agreed with my parenting choices and would never tire of the stories I’d tell her about you.

I don’t remember life before my sister was born because as far back as I can remember, shes been there. Shani has always been there just as the sun has been burning for 4 billion years. I never thought I’d have to live life without her. Life ceases to exist without the sun and I’m having an impossible time without mine. Learning to navigate this changed world is incredibly difficult; the finalization of death. There are nights when the tears won’t end. I no longer listen to the radio or watch television for the fear that something will remind me of her. I have to push myself to speak to my friends, do anything outside the house for myself, and celebrate the holidays. And I’m sorry for the times you see me crying in the kitchen – I just hate that you’ll never get the opportunity to be in your Aunts wedding or to hear her beautiful voice at Christmas time.

But you, my love, are a light and I need you to know that during this time of heavy darkness, you will forever be my saving spark, my energy source, and the illumination that keeps me going. I pray that God will carry us through this time of heartache and that Shani is resting in paradise with our Heavenly Father.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

I love you, Ashani Leigh Pompey and I’ll never stop. It sucks that we can’t make any new memories together but I know that one day, I’ll get to see you face to face and tell you all about this crazy, beautiful life. On the other side, my baby sis, my sunshine.

Baby

Raising and Rupturing

by motheringmillie3 Comments on Raising and Rupturing
Raising and Rupturing

I assumed labor was the end of my gut-wrenching pain, doubling over from cramping agony, but cue ruptured ovarian cyst.

I delivered my beautiful baby, naturally. I dilated quicker than expected and therefore, could not receive an epidural. People have asked, “What does natural, childbirth feel like?” Well, have you ever been set on fire? Labor was long, exhausting, and painful but I kept telling myself that when it was all over, I’d be able to hold my precious baby. I love my daughter and I’m so grateful that she is here and healthy however, the birthing experience is not something I look back on with a smile.

Fast forward 14 weeks and I started back to work. My Wednesday was interrupted when I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. I gasped, grabbed my gut, and leaned forward. Appendicitis? Cold sweats, dizziness, nausea – the pain wasn’t going away. I had to stop teaching, I didn’t want to pass out in front of my students! All too soon, I found myself laying in a hospital bed again with my post-traumatic-delivery-anxiety triggered.

After I told the nurse that my left arm was best for IV insertion, she persisted to dig around in my right arm, fishing for a vein. Why?! She switched arms and the IV went right in. I told her so. The saline flush had a skunky smell and the IV fluid made me feel cold. The pain meds were inserted and I immediately felt delirious. I was given additional meds to help subdue the nausea that the pain medication caused. With both medications administered, I couldn’t help but to worry about what was being filtered into my breastmilk. The doctor thought it would be safest if I would, “pump and dump” for the next 24 hours. This was an issue – My body does not create excess milk and while working full time, my storage isn’t built. I knew with this hospitalization, we’d go though every ounce that was stored.

I was wheeled into the CT scanning room and was given an iodine-contrast through my IV. My body felt warm for thirty seconds as the contrast entered my blood stream; my throat, bladder, and ears especially. Unfortunately, this was another med that one probably shouldn’t breast feed on. I was instructed to lay still as the scan took place; it didn’t take long, but the stillness allowed my mind to wonder about scary what-if’s. Once the scan was complete, I was wheeled back into my room and instructed to drink lots of water to flush the contrast from my kidneys.

I had dozed off waiting for the CT results. Wow did it feel nice to sleep without a baby. All too soon, I was woken up by the doctor with the results of the scan. Due to the amount of fluid in my abdominal cavity, he could conclude that I had a 2-3cm ovarian cyst rupture. He informed me that this is not uncommon 6-12 months after pregnancy, due hormone irregularities. Apparently, cysts occur often during ovulation but they don’t always burst nor cause horrific pain. Naturally, I wanted to know how to prevent the cysts in the future and he gave me two options; get on birth control to stop ovulation or get a hysterectomy. What?! I’m not ready to kiss my reproductive years goodbye! I also was not about to start taking birth control pills – hormone altering, cancer causing, weight gaining, mood swinging, “birth control” pills. As grateful as I was to not need my appendix removed, the possibility of painful ovulation every month was concerning.

Now, it’s just a waiting game; will the cysts return? Will they continue after I finish breastfeeding? It’s possible that if the cyst is 7cm or larger, it could twist my ovaries during rupture and cut off my blood flow to my reproductive parts – terrifying! The heating pad helped, so did hot tea and the fetal position however, dealing with that intense pain every month will significantly decrease my quality of life. The doctors don’t know the future anymore than I do, and in the meantime, I will be diligently praying big. Go away rupturing cysts; I have a life to live and a baby to raise!