RenovationGirl

Firsts

I finally have a friend who can fully relate to me...years and years of infertility heartache, a miracle baby, but only one. She has a son, just one, and only one child. It's nice to finally have someone who doesn't throw their many children in my face about how hard their lives are (what I wouldn't give!!!) or who doesn't understand why Builder Boy can't just "sit and color" when I need to do something. She understands what it's like to have one child, specifically a boy child. She understands that the mere nature of having an only includes spoiling not because you want to spoil, but because there's not one else who requires your attention. It's so refreshing! When we talked last Saturday morning and I relayed to her our Friday night adventures, she commented, "Well, of course you freaked out...this was a first, and as the parent of an only child, everything is a first."

She was commenting on our very first trip to the ER with Builder Boy. I feel blessed to say that in almost eight years, this truly was our first time. We've had our close calls, but nothing ever requiring an emergency trip. Builder Boy was in the after care program at school on Friday (and yes, if you know me, this added to my guilt immeasurably...you know, if mean mommy didn't have to work then mean mommy wouldn't have had to have him in after care and then this wouldn't have happened...) and when I went to pick him up, I noticed an aftercare worker rushing over to a child. In that split second, I thought, "Gosh I hope that's not my kid." Not even for one second did I think it was Builder Boy. Not even as I got out of the car and headed over to the sidewalk. Even when the kid started walking slowly, head hanging, blood pouring from his face did I think it was him. Because that day, of all days, he was in a different coat than usual and it took me a bit to realize that this kid, dripping with blood was mine.

"What happened?!" I screeched in the hysterical, high-pitched way I have when my kid is dripping blood. "Oh," said the dad watching the playground, "He fell." In retrospect, I should have slapped him across the face for his nonchalance. Oh, okay! Thanks for filling me in!

Turns out, Builder Boy was playing on the the playset, tripped, and landed on his face, full force. His bottom teeth went completely through his bottom lip, hence the obscene amounts of precious blood spilling from my baby boy. He was an absolute champ throughout it all! I got him to the bathroom to clean him up and he did not shed one tear, not even when I hugged him (which you know will do most kids in when they're trying to hold it together). He did take one look at his face and started hyperventilating, almost throwing up, but with some slow, cleansing breaths he calmed himself down. One look at his cleaned up mouth, which was still gushing blood, showed all teeth were presented and accounted for. The mothers at after care sprang into action, getting me a cup to rinse his mouth and a bag of ice to sooth it and work on the swelling. One looked at his mouth for me (again, I'm a novice at this) and pronounced the necessity for a check up. All this time he was holding it together while his adorable friends, even the older kids who didn't really know him well, hovered around him, making sure he was okay. He started to get teary, and so we made a beeline to the car.

We headed to the ER to see if stitches were needed. (They weren't.) On the way there, he sobbed his little heart out while I patted his leg from the driver's seat. Somehow, someway, I got him there and without shedding one tear myself. This is short of a miracle. Once we were there, as he was sitting on the hospital bed, I noticed the gaping wound on his jaw. I thought for sure I would pass out. I didn't, but he noticed my face turn ashen and asked if he was getting worse. I assured him that he was fine and he said, "but your face is funny." So much for that theater degree!

For a child who freaks out about every.little.thing, he always handles the big stuff well. At two, he went to visit his grandma after her hip replacement surgery and was not the least bit overwhelmed by her walker and immobility. At four years old, as he watched his grandfather having a stroke, he calmly asked me if his Pappap was dying. For the past three years, he has seen his mama have four surgeries and waited sweetly at home, preparing the couch with his pillows and stuffed animals. Now, his first ER trip and when asked how the pain was, he shrugged and said, "Not bad!" He cracked jokes with the nurse, challenged the doctor on how long it would take to heal, and asked for something to eat.

This was a tough first, but we did it. And while I'm sure many people can trump this visit with numerous ones of their own, I wish they would remember that this is my first. Every single time something new happens with my child, it's a first. I don't wish these types of experiences on anyone, but trust me when I tell you, I'd love to have this be no big deal because I have so many more kids.

Get Off the Phone

Certainly, there are some pretty strong opinions about cell phones and driving. I try to be very honest on my own blog so I'll tell you: I spend much of my hour commute home on the phone catching up with friends, making plans, calling my online students. I also will be honest and tell you that I don't have a hands-free device. I have wanted one, but I haven't made the trip to the store and picked one up. My car is far too old to have the fancy blue tooth built in. So I drive...with a phone in my hand, distracted. You may do the same, too. (Do you?) I'll ask of you now-please stop.

One week ago, my parents called to tell me there had been an accident. The car my sister had been a passenger in was hit head on by a man on his cell phone. He didn't even hit the brakes because he didn't even realize he had swerved across the center line and into oncoming traffic. Not one brake mark. The impact pushed the car back 200 feet. Up an embankment. Did I mention that there was a four month old baby in the back seat? No, uh well, there was. It was SUV against Honda. (Honda owners will delight in the fact that the Honda held it's own!)

Luckily and miraculously, the baby was unharmed. The driver of the car my sister was in was bruised and sore, but unharmed. My sister bore the brunt of the impact, breaking her leg and her sternum. Instantly, the choice to take that phone call changed my sister's life. In the blink of an eye, the next 3-6 months of her life and possibly forever were changed, altered, transformed. Instead of planning vacations, she is in a walker, just trying to get from bedroom to living room. Instead of starting with a new department at work, she is figuring out how to breathe through her pain, how to walk with both a broken leg and a broken sternum. She requires 24 hour care when she used to live independently.

All because a man chose to take a phone call. Please think about this the next time you are driving. Remember that no phone call is that important to jeopardize the well-being of your life or others. Buy a hands-free device and use it. Or, like one of the nurses at the hospital who constantly sees the trauma caused by cell phone distractions does, lock the phone in the trunk. Please.

It Was a Long Time Coming

I have numerous drafted posts that continue to sit in my drafts folder. It seemed that every single one was filled with bitterness, negativity, and cynicism. They are downright pathetic and depressing. They were also raw and honest. I wanted to post them because of that-their honesty-but during the Christmas season, they didn't seem to have a place. The blogosphere was filled with joyous posts filled with all a litany of how every feels so blessed and hopeful and peaceful-and I just wasn't feeling it. Until Christmas Day. There on Christmas Day full of the stress of hosting my first Christmas dinner in a house that continues to be messy, cluttered and dirty, this feeling washed over me. Of relief. Of joy. Of contentment. Of hope.

Life continues to throw what feels like a constant curve ball at me. The bills continue to pile up. I am still confronted with my body's failure to reproduce again successfully. The clutter that envelops my home has a strangling hold on me. Yet, at a particularly stressful moment on Christmas Day (you know that moment when your home is filled with guests and the meal is just about to be served and every.single.food item.needs to be hot ten minutes ago!!), I felt washed over with peace because...

There sat my aunt who just finished her chemo treatments, whose hair is starting to grow back, who delighted in the presence of all of us...

There sat my dad whom we almost lost three years ago on Christmas Day. He sat contentedly with Deconstructor cat #1 filling his lap in all his big-boned sweetness, watching my son explore the new toys and Lego sets and books he had just received...

There played my son, revelling in the most exciting of days as Santa brought him two of the three Lego sets he wanted (yea, Santa couldn't afford the $400 Death Star Lego set!) loving on all of us there...

There sat my mother, who has had a tough year, yet never complained, who finally allowed herself to relax and let me and my sister handle the meal...who adores her grandson more than anything in the world...

There sat my newly engaged cousin with her about to deploy fiancee, happy and full of excitement about their future life together.

All this unbridled joy in my home, under my roof, not marred by the clutter or dirt or disorganization. Just there, filling my home. And for the first time in a long time, I felt lighter and happy and content.

I hope this same feeling reached you and yours this Christmas season. I am hopeful it will stick around in the new year...for me and for you.

Let's Bake Some Damn Gingerbread Pirates

Today is our last day off after Thanksgiving. I am always grateful for this extra day. Since I worked Black Friday (and by Black Friday, I actually mean Thanksgiving night as we head to clock in by 11:45 to work the opening midnight shift...another post on that to follow...), I spent all of Friday recovering. Apparently, my body can't handle a 24 hour day like it used to! Builder Boy and I are both off today, and after a weekend of work, recovery, cleaning, and more work, I set a to-do list that included mostly things we do together, and with as little television as possible. On my list was read together, work on his homework, and study for yet another test (did I mention that he has a test almost every day of the week???). On his list was bake gingerbread pirates. Yay! Get some holiday baking done, spend some time together, and have him removed from the television for a few hours-it was win/win.

Our day had been going well...shortly after he got up, he asked to watch Empire Strikes Back. I was still finishing up some grading I was working on, so I put the movie on, made him some popcorn, and knocked a few things off of my list of to-dos. We had lunch and then settled in to bake some cookies. During a conversation, I answered a question he asked (when can he start using his advent calendar?) and he was not pleased with the answer (Thursday). "But Dad told me advent started Wednesday!" Me: "Well, he must have not looked at the calendar...December 1st is Thursday..." BB: "No, it's not. Dad said Wednesdsay." Me: "Well, buddy, I'm looking at a calendar and it says Thursday." BB: "Well, it's wrong. Dad said..." We went round and round like this for awhile until I hit my breaking point.

This happens a lot around here...Dad is always right, mom is always wrong, and stupid, and not as smart as a teenager (Builder Boy's words, not mine...). I have told him before how hurtful these words are. I've asked him to imagine what it would feel like if someone said that to him, but he doesn't get it. I'm his mom, a metaphoric punching bag for him. I get it...he and his Dad are the best of buds...a lot of that comes from the common interest in all things boy. But a lot of it comes from the fact that I am always working. Always. If I'm home, I'm cleaning, cooking, paying bills, working my cyber teaching job, grading papers. Or I'm at school or my retail job. Dad is here in the morning to get him off to school. He's here on the weekends and nights when I work my retail job. He's here to play with while I make dinner or make calls for work. Dad is here. Mom is not. To say I am okay with this would be lying.

I see the major divide. Them versus me. The boys against the girl. I have no other children to take to a movie or read with or be stupid for. When Builder Boy hangs out with Remodel Man, I am alone. Just me. By myself, existing in all the failure I see surrounding me. Being reminded of my infertility. Forcing me to acknowledge how I've failed to reproduce and even worse, failed to be the mom I wanted to be to the child I do have. Friends are too busy or too far away to fill the void. Just me.

So today, as I informed Builder Boy in no uncertain terms that I am NOT stupid and it's hurtful when he says that, I turned to him and said, "Now let's bake some damn gingerbread pirates!" Yea, how's that for some good bonding time with the world's greatest mother. Perhaps I should just find a fourth job to take...

Back From The Beach

Every year, as we venture to the beach, ee cummings' poem, "maggie and milly and molly and may" comes into my mind.  Particularly the last couplet, "For whatever we lose, like a you or a me / it's always ourselves we find in the sea."  It's so true isn't it?  Something magical happens at the beach...the rolling of the tides, the sounds of waves crashing against the shore like they've been doing for a gazillion years, the warm sand caressing your shoe weary feet, the slight wind tousling salt-water stiffened hair...you feel at peace, at home, free. 

 

This vacation was nice...not as relaxing as I would have liked since I have to work throughout the vacation (and without a reliable internet connection, I did most of the work on my phone-ugh!), but we had some good family time.

Builder Boy is a total fish...he just loves to be in the water.  Big giant tumbling waves?  No problem! 

 

9 feet of water in the pool, bring it on!

 

Thinking about life while looking at the water? Oh yeah!

 

Builder Boy is so natural in the water and around it.  He feels at home, at peace...it's his thing.  This made the entire vacation a perfect vacation for me-for Builder Boy to have a sense of peace and comfort surrounded by the waves. 

Just Try To Wipe This Smile Off My Face (Final Episode of the Boob Saga)

Monday to Wednesday night had to be some of the longest days of my life.  I tried very hard to stay in a good place and focus on what the doctor said...it looked benign.  People who know these kind of things assured me that she wouldn't have said this if she wasn't very sure of this.  And I did really well. 

The doctor had told me that the results would come back rather quickly and I could hear as early as Wednesday.  Of course, I spent much of Wednesday sneaking away from the training session I was in to see if she had left a message.  On the drive home from the training session, it all kind of hit me.  How life-altering this message could be. The plans that would have to be made.  The decisions.  The management of it all.  It overwhelmed me.  After holding it all for two days, the floodgates had opened.

I had just enough time to drive from one part of the city to the other, hopping from one job to the next.  I spent most of that time losing it and controlling myself on a repeated cycle.  As I got closer to work, I managed to pull myself together enough.  But I did spend much of my time there continuing to check my messages.  Finally, after 5, the doctor had called. 

Let me just interject here that this imaging center has provided me with the utmost care and concern.  You always expect pediatric places or places that deal with potentially terminal conditions will give incredibly kind and compassionate care. Unfortunately, this isn't always the case as my aunt has discovered as she battles breast cancer.  But the place I went to was amazing from setting the appointment to talking to the doctor about the biopsy results. 

So I called the doctor, on her cell phone!, and she told me the news.

BENIGN.  Come back in a year.

And since that moment, I haven't stopped smiling. 

While Everyone's Asleep

Everyone is asleep in the house.  The cool, night air, a welcome relief from the glaringly hot day, laps into the house.  I sit, in the kitchen.  The place where I spend most of my days at home.  It is a mess and I should be cleaning.  But it can wait.

For now, I focus on the positive.  The fun summer times we are having as a family.  How our summer focus is on family and not the house.  Bike rides and trips to the zoo and a visit (twice) to a historic village in town and lots of days and nights at the pool. Play dates with friends and long conversations with kindred spirits who are too far away.  Breathing in the clear nights and allowing the sun to soak into the skin.  A birthday celebration and time with family and a trip to the sandy beach soon.  A mother who gives her everything and more for her family and a grandfather who loves spending time with his grandson at a coffeehouse under a shady tree.  Watching the Stars Wars movies, starting with 1 and working our way to "our" Star Wars movies.  Ice cream and homemade popsicles and eating dinner on the patio.  Veggies and  potato packs on the grill and fresh cherries we could eat by the poundful.  Reconnecting with close friends and making new ones. 

What I will not focus on is my mammogram tomorrow or my aunt's fatigue after her first round of chemo.  Builder Boy's breakdown earlier today or Remodel Man's stress.  My sister's loneliness or my mother's concern for her family.  Our financial stresses or the overwhelming work schedule this week.  A school year that has already started with drama and stress and a little bit of comedy.  Buying school supplies in mid-July.

No, for tonight, I will focus on the quiet of the night.  I will focus on the life we live now.  I will focus on the family I have been blessed with and the friends who support us.  Because while everyone's asleep, the mind can take me to the bad places, but there is time for those places...or not.  I'll focus on the not...

What I WANT To Do on My Summer Vacation

I always give myself a week or so after school ends to decompress after the long school year.  This year proved to be more challenging as Builder Boy entered the world of big-boy school and quite suddenly, I found myself going from teacher who is a parent to a parent who is a teacher.  This was a change and at times quite challenging.  Add to that the other two jobs, a new job for Remodel Man, and the desire to always be a better mother, teacher, wife, sister, daughter-you have one stressed out Renovation Girl.  My week is over now and now comes the summer bucket list. 

My friend Shayne recently wrote about this-how one minute school is letting out and the next, you find yourself walking your kids to the bus stop for a new year of school full of regret for all of the summer things you didn't get around to doing.  I feel that way, too.  These summer months fly by in a flash and I don't want to miss out on all the wonderful and unique experiences that summer offers.  Some items we have already accomplished (go us!!), some we will do again and again, and others we need to make the time for without fail.  So here it is...my summer bucket list:

1.  Organize my craft room and get crafting.  I have some sewing projects that I need to do and want to do and right now, you can barely walk into that room.

2.  Purge the basement and third floor.  While I realize I can't do this entire project in one summer (yea, it's that bad...), I would like to make a considerable effort to purge and organize. 

3.  Rethink my entire year of lessons for school.  Argh...I'll think about this one later. 

4.  Go to the zoo-we have two near us.  We've already gone to Oglebay's The Good Zoo this week, but we'd also like to go to the Pittsburgh Zoo. 

5.  Pool time-lots of it.  This is another one we've already accomplished, some days we even went twice.  We're lucky that lots of Anthony's friends belong to the same swim club this year, so it's lots of fun to hang out and watch the kids play together.

6.  Kennywood.  Not from around here?  Kennywood is our local amusement park and if you're a true Pittsburgher, you never miss a summer!  Potato patch french fries, two wooden roller coasters, waffle ice cream sandwiches-yum!

7.  Idlewild.  Not sure we'll get around to this one or not, but Idlewild is Kennywood's sister park, but for the younger set.  Storybook Forest, a jungle area for kids to explore and climb, plus a huge water park. 

8.  Baseball.  Not going to lie to ya, I'm not a baseball fan.  I love the experience of going to a game, but the actual game, not so much.  We can blame it on the fact that I live in Pittsburgh (ya know, home to the Pittsburgh Pirates...usually the nation's most losing team, although apparently things are going better this year!).  But to sit at PNC Park, overlooking the river and our beautiful city, waiting for the fireworks while you eat your way through the innings, cheering for your favorite pierogi during the Pierogi races, it's just too fun to miss!  We're lucky to have the Washington Wild Things, a minor league team, playing 10 minutes from us.  If the weather breaks, we'll be heading that way tonight. 

9.  Working on reading and writing with Builder Boy.  Started this already...slow going, but going nonetheless.

10. Play time-lots of it.  I want to spend more time playing and less time separated by television and computer screens. 

11.  Playdates for Builder Boy.  I'm fun and all (okay, well, not really), but the dude needs to be with kiddos his own age.

12.  Campfires-n-s'mores.  This is a favorite summer night activity...we've already done two.  One at the neighbor's, one at our house.  I just love sitting by the fire, watching is crackle and burn, all the while knowing oI get to sleep in a bed in a house and not on a tent floor.  (Clearly, I am not the camping type, but I love a campfire!)

13.  Lego Museum.  We discovered that there is a Lego museum about 45 minutes from us.  This was one of the first items to go on our list.  Builder Boy will be in heaven!

14.  Movies, of both the theater and drive-in experience.  We managed to see Kung Fu Panda a few weeks ago at the drive-in (don't ask how it was...I slept through it...).  We still have yet to see: the new Pirates, Judy Moody, the Jim Carey penguin one, the zookeeper one, the new Winnie the Pooh, and Cars II!!!!  It's going to be a great summer for movies!

15.  Crafts and other educational things.  While I like the summer, I also know how stupid it can make us...kind of like that commercial for one of those learning centers where the letters are falling out of the kids ears, so I want to provide some educational things for Builder Boy to do. But shhhhh, don't tell Builder Boy it's educational.

16.  Stay pregnant.  Sigh...no comment. 

So that's the beginning of our bucket list.  What's on your list for this summer???

A Little Bit Dizzy and a Whole Lot Scared

Two weekends ago, on a rare non-rainy day in Western Pa, I decided to do some gardening.  Well, if you count putting easy to grow annuals into the clay we have around here gardening, then yes, I was gardening.  But really, I was just putting flowers into the ground.  Anyway, I was up and down a little bit and it was warm, but not super warm.  And I got dizzy.  Super dizzy.  Dizzy in that I-am-so-drunk-and-the-entire-world-is-spinning-dizzy.  The first day is happened, I counted it as a low blood pressure issue.  I do tend to have low blood pressure and often get dizzy when I am bending over and get up quickly.  On day two of my adventures in dizziness, I started to get worried.  Why was I dizzy?  Was this vertigo?  Could something be really wrong with me?  So I went onto the Internet and did some research. 

And then I went upstairs and took a test...and I passed the test. The kind of test that I routinely fail...are you all with me?

I'm pregnant. (take a moment to pick your jaws off the floor...)

(Okay, ready?)  Now, for most people, seeing those digital words, "Pregnant" bring joy to their lives.  For me, seeing that word made me the exact opposite of joyful.  Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE to be joyful.  I would love to not know what I know, or have experienced what I have experienced, but alas, I do know and have experienced.  And so, as I looked at the test, my first reaction was complete and total horror. 

I can't do this again.  I can't go through another loss.  I just can't.  I have rallied through the last three losses with what I consider pretty amazing strength, but I can't do it again.  And while I know it could work, let's be real here...the odds are pretty much in favor of it not working.  I'm not being pessimistic, just realistic. 

I waited a few days to call my RE.  They just laughed and shook their heads and sent me for the official test.  I have had four tests since then.  As usual, my progesterone tanked, so they put me on progesterone supplements.  The dates are a little off...if we use the date of my LMP, things are "not looking good," but if we use the date of conception (because I know the exact date due to Remodel Man traveling this month!), we're right in line.  The beta numbers are doubling accordingly, so I suppose this is good. But the overwhelming thought in my head is, "We have been here before..." because we have been here before and things didn't end well.  Why would this time be different?  My eggs suck, his sperm are mediocre at best. History is a bit discouraging.

But do not be fooled...We want this.  More than anything, we want this.  Of course, I have been freaking out because of only intermittent symptoms.  Of course, I figured out the due date.  Of course, I'm thinking of names.  Of course, we are already in love with the idea of another child.  Of course. 

Hope sucks.

Will you sit with me these next few weeks?  Hold my hand as we go from test to test and then onto the ultrasound? 

I cannot believe we are here again... 

Prayers for a Lonely Child

Yesterday, a good friend of mine shared a beautiful poem written by her daughter for a college class.  I was so touched that she wanted to share it with me-this friend is a very private person, one whom I often have to browbeat in order to get her to open up about things that are bothering her.  (Love you, K!) In the poem, her daughter was so honest and raw and authentic.  We giggled over the lines that aired out some family issues in a perfectly poetic, and thankfully cryptic, way, and teared up over her the very clear expressions of unconditional love and gratitude for her family.  One in particular line brought us both to our knees...she wrote something along the lines of a house "filled with the prayers of a lonely child."  You see my friend started her family a bit earlier than she intended, and as she struggled through those early days of motherhood, another child was not on her radar at all.  She was just hoping to survive the first one!  Five or so years later, she and her husband did add to their family, welcoming another daughter.  The poem revealed how desperately her oldest wanted a sibling to ease her loneliness.  It was beautiful sentiment of a 20 year old written with the raw honesty of a five year old. 

My friend has now agonized over the fact that she shared this poem with me.  You see, in her own desire to share this most beautiful poem with me, she feels she failed to recognize my own struggles with having an only child.  When I commented that that line really got me, too, it hit her that these could possibly be the same prayers Builder Boy prays.  I have tried to console my friend, that my issues are my issues and that I feel privileged that she wanted to share something so personal with me.  Granted, if someone else had showed me this poem, I might have been upset and felt their insensitivity.  But never in a million years would I find it insensitive that a friend wanted allow me into her family's history. 

Remodel Man and I do feel blessed that Builder Boy has never really asked about wanting a sibling.  If anything, he has made it very clear that he does not want a brother or sister.  This does help ease our guilt over our infertility.  Just today, in one of those intuitive moments that children have, Builder Boy, while watching an episode of Arthur where Arthur's little sister, D.W., yet again drives him crazy, Builder Boy commented, "That, Mama, is why I'm glad for your internal organs."  I looked at him quizzically and asked what he meant. "You know, because your insides only had one baby."

Where he comes up with this stuff, I'll never know, but I'm glad that he's grateful for my flawed organs.  ;)