To Tell Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth

Today started off as a wonderful day. I stopped to get a drink at the local convenience store on my way to work when the lady I've seen then a million times asked me if I was on my way to school. She did a double take when I told her I was on my way to work.

"You don't look old enough to go to work," she said.

"I have three children."

"Nuh uh."

"My oldest is 12."

She was floored. Said she thought I was like 17 or 18. I told her I'd take it. I didn't realize then the affect her remark would have on me tonight.

I haven't been completely honest with you or with myself. Yes, I have got a serious case of baby-itis. Yes, I was on a heart monitor last week. Yes, there are plenty of people who saw Bryce baptised last weekend, including Ladybird's parents. But what I have failed to mention in my most recent posts is that I have been to see two doctors on three different occasions in the last week and a half and not one of them was my cardiologist. As a matter of fact, I have yet to see him or even hear those results. I have been in pain for the last three and a half weeks so I had appointments to have that checked when I had my heart checked. Today, I was given news.

Hysterectomy.

At 32.

I'm stunned. I've cried more tears than I have cried in a very long time. While I have never been opposed to the idea, especially if it meant that it would help take care of my migraines, I never believed that it would be a possibility at 32 years old. I never realized how strong my irrational hope is that one of those months where things went wrong it was because there was a baby, not because there was a problem. Yes I have three, healthy, happy, beautiful children and I am so thankful for them. Now the reality is the fact I have them is amazing. That still doesn't ease this blow. It doesn't change the fact that I am at that age where I should be having baby-itis not life altering surgeries.

Here in the very near future, I will be undergoing an MRI in preparation for the actual procedure. A requirement because I am apparently unique. Even my ultrasound tech asked me if I was tired of being an anomaly. Today I am. Tomorrow, we'll see. Tonight I'm numb as I process everything that I was told today and hope that tomorrow will show things in a new light.

Baptisms, Babies, and Wires

Yes, I admit, I did it. Again. I put up a post and was determined to put up another post. And another. And another!

And I failed.

Failed is such a harsh word. And I didn't. That's so much nicer.

I could bore you with the majority of the last few weeks. Get the kids ready for school. Go to work. Go home. Cook supper. Put the kids to bed. Go to bed. Rinse. Repeat.

So exciting, huh?

So we'll skip to the more recent stuff. Like baptisms. And babies. And wires.

This past Sunday, Bryce went up and wanted to be baptised. So this Sunday morning, he will be baptised at our home church. Given my history on the subject, I have mixed feelings. I am excited for him. I am relieved. I am jealous. I am, I am, I am so many things. But for him I will be happy.

After church, my neighbor (who is no longer my neighbor after selling her house) brought her new baby for me to see. New as in one week old. New baby smell. And little fingers and toes. Little nose and burps. Little yawns and little smiles. And that baby ache was back all over again. Little Little Man is the 4th baby that I know of born in the past two weeks.

Fourth.

Deep breathing does not help this ache. Spending time with them does but not when I have to give them up again. But listening to the newborn and the big brother cry in the car together does. A little. Sometimes.

I took this picture today while sitting at the office.

I was wired. Literally. Have I mentioned that my heart and I don't see eye to eye? That it likes to race when I am sitting down and doing absolutely nothing? It does and I really don't see why it feels the need to do this because I haven't done anything to it. But it continues to race. Finally, about six months ago, I got tired of it and went back to my doctor. He put me on some meds that haven't seemed to help one bit so I went back yesterday for my follow up. And I complained. So he wired me up. What you see is the wires attached to the electrodes stuck to my chest (that left marks that I figure will be there until this time next year) and the machine recording my heart rate that was nicely tucked in my back pocket. I haven't worn one of these darn things in 10 years and I was grateful when they took it off this afternoon. I had itches that were dying to be scratched. Next step?

A visit to the cardiologist.

Here in the next week or two, when my results come back from my monitor, I will go back to the clinic to meet my cardiologist. I thought I was ready for this step. I'm tired of being tired all the time. I'm tired of feeling like my heart is going to jump out of my chest. But I'm not so sure I'm ready for this step. Not like I have a choice but I can have an opinion, right? Or worries? More will come I'm sure as this part of my story unfolds, but today I could say I was wired.

Now I am going to jump back into my routine. The kids are in bed, the dishes are washing, the laundry is in the washer waiting for morning and I am joining the kiddos and going to bed. Sleeping while wired was just so much fun!

The View In My Chair

More information to come soon...