so anyway, yeah, sometimes I like spending money. But I'm sort of a paradox, because it takes something really special for me to be willing to spend the money. I'll spend good money for good quality stuff, and will gladly bide my time waiting for all my nit-picky specifications to be met. I will not, however, purchase inferior goods. I will not spend my money on junk. I will not spend my money on clothes that only generate a moderate raise of the eyebrow from me. I have to really love it. So where I am going with all this? Well, I don't know exactly, but I'll lay out some of my recent purchases for you:
- The STAR buy of the month came when I went shopping with my friends erica and biji in hong kong and I bought two nightgowns for emma and samantha. They have never owned nightgowns before, but I thought these were really cute. Plus, there were some cute little blue satin slippers that matched the Ariel nightgown that I bought Emma (more kudos to Erica and Elizabeth for calling my attention to them!) Anyway, the last few days, it has been all I can do to get Emma out of her pajamas after breakfast because she LOVES LOVES LOVES her "jammy dress" and her "jammy shoes". So right now, both my little ladies are exploring dream land in their very cute jammy dresses.
- capris and T-shirts for me. Yes, my mother and mother would be shocked to discover that I actually bought a few things for myself when I was in hong kong. BUT, in defense of myself, it wasn't planned! The shopping excursion was actually to buy things for the girls,and then a few things just hit me. They popped off the shelf. There's a pair of brown capris that Alicia T. will be jealous of, and several cute little T's that make me feel a lot cuter than a mom of toddlers, and who can beat $5 a peice? I'll go for that!
- but the kicker, yes, that big kicker was this little gadget we bought. We could claim we were under duress from our friend Steve, who is a photography fanatic (and why wouldn't he be, when he has two cute girls that provide endless opportunities for beautiful pictures?!), but actually our little olympus digital camera that we bought almost four years ago just wasn't holding up anymore. That has been especially true when it comes to getting pictures of samantha - it just wasn't getting the picture taken fast enough, and she's not one to wait around for the "click" to smile. We honestly have very few cute pictures of samantha, and it's not for lack of trying. So, he gave us the rundown on which kinds of things to buy, and we went (or more accurately, josh went) and paid a small fortune for a digital SLR camera. It certainly gives you the idea that you're a professional, what with all those fancy flashes and clicks and stuff; never mind if I don't know how to use half of it. The important thing is that in spite of the (gulp) price we paid for it, it has already awed me with its capabilities. Sure, it's a bit of a lug to carry around, but even when we are just casually taking pictures, we've been able to capture things that have been only fleeting little seconds of childhood that our other camera would have been still gearing up for. And also never mind that it has taken me over a week to actually spend the time to get these mammoth amount of pictures on to my computer and blah blah...but after several hours spent on the mission tonight, it has been accomplished. And, just to prove that all that money was not in vain, I shall immediately start posting very cute pictures for your viewing enjoyment. And please, encourage us on the purchase. Even if you're lying, tell us we did the right thing. :) just kidding.
ok, pics will have to wait till tomorow. this thing is taking forever to upload. good night to some, good morning to others!
East or West, following Christ is best..
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
a week's worth of updates
I'm here, back in my asialand home, slowly savoring one of those microwaveable chocolate cake things that my parents sent me a few months ago, but being very careful not to get any crumbs in the cracks between the computer keys, because that is up there in the top 5 of josh's pet peeves. Anyway, we arrived back here on wednesday, surprisingly on-time and delay free. We walked into our house - which we left in quite a shocking manner of disarray in our hurried exit from our city - and felt like we walked into a dream. We had left a set of keys to be given to our house helper, and just as we had hoped, she came a few days early. Floors were mopped and sparkling. Not a shred of dirty clothing was to be found in my house. The fridge was overflowing wtih fresh groceries. Beds made, bathrooms cleaned. Dinner was in the oven, and fresh muffins were on the kitchen table. Coming home is a much nicer affair when it can be accomplished in this way.
The girls were delighted to be home. They played all into the evening, completely happy in their own little world full of "new" toys. When I walked in and saw "our" things, it made me feel an even stronger reminder that this is ou home. Even on the bad days, it is still our home. Even in the bad weeks, it is still our home. You see, I've been having some issues...
And since I'm not a particularly private person, I'll just go ahead and lay them out here. Before our three week hiatus from life here, I had really been struggling with being here. Not as in my-city-here, but as in asialand-here. For a variety of reasons (which I shall not include so that you can read this post in under an hour) I had been tired of asia-life. Tired of unsolicitied advice on everything from my kids health to my parenting skills to my electricity use. Tired of the girls not getting to play with grandparents. Tired of being critical of the people around me, tired of hearing more reports about the plethora of unsafe products from this country. Tired of all of it. It's one thing when you have loads of love for the place you life - you can deal with a lot of junk if you love the people. But, it felt like all the love I had for this country or this people got sapped everytime I walked out the door and people made my kids cry with their incessant touching and lavishing of attention.
I was actually afraid when the doctors told us to go to hong kong, because I didn't know if I'd want to come back or not. I was fairly accurate on that part - I wasn't just chomping at the bit to come back. I was having a fine time in hong kong, thank you very much. And I could have done with several more days of cinnamon rolls for breakfast and extravagant trips to the grocery store. But I do think that although the circumstances of our travel there were certainly less than desirable, hong kong was good for me. It was so nice to be away from here for a while and try to get a new perspective. It was nice to be distracted from issues that bother me so much - bloomin onions and shopping sprees are pretty good distractions! It was nice just not having to think about asialife, and just relax.
While we were in hong kong, we had heard that there were some floods in our city. Floods in asialand are quite the norm, but floods where we live are really unusual. I though it was odd, but didn't think anything about it until we got home. In the taxi home from the airport, the driver asked us if we'd heard the details; we hadn't. He told us a story with a lot of vague details that we later found out from our house helper:
The main public square in the city has an underground shopping center just below it. It's actually one of the nicer places in the city, but on this particular day you didn't want to be there. The rain started about 4:45pm, just as everyone is preparing to get off work. Perhaps some people who were out in the square hurried down to the shopping center to avoid getting wet. Within 20 minutes, the water had swelled from just a few centimeters to almost six feet. When things started getting crazy, a few bad apples in the group decided to start breaking display cases and stealing more expensive items, thinking they could make a quick getaway. When employees started realizing that was going on, they closed the electric gate in the front of the store, the kind you see at shopping malls in the states when stores haven't opened yet. Just as they did that, the power went out. It was pitch black inside the shopping center, with the rain continuing to seep in. There was no way to re-open the electric gate. The water continued coming in, steadily growing higher than six feet, rushing all through aisles and hallways. The government has yet to release a figure for the lives lost in the shopping center, but the lowest estimates are set at 100.
when I heard all that, I felt so much compassion and concern for those people in my city who were trapped inside with no hope of help. I wondered why it took such dramatic stories of death to muster my compassion. I wondered why I so easily felt concern for them in light of physical danger, but the even greater spiritual dangers they face can't seem to drive me to love them. And then I realized that what happened in that shopping mall was just a tangible picture of the spiritual reality that faces people in my city - and other cities - every day. They continue living their lives, thinking they are safe from the dangers of sin and separation from God. All of a sudden, with no warning, the consequences come. Higher and higher rises the flood around them, but they are left with no hope. Unable to swim, unable to escape, there is nothing but the dark sense of helplessness. I'm sure they all held out hope of a rescue, but there was none.
I kept thinking that if I were there in the shopping center, I would help. I could help. I can swim, most asianese cannot. I wasn't there that day. But, God reminded me, I am here. I am here to lead those who are willing to be rescued to the Rescuer.
I'm still not in love with asia-land. That sweet honeymoon feeling left years ago. But being away and the floods have helped me see things a little better, and hopefully a little more from His perspective. Thank you to all of your prayers for us while we were away; many times I didn't even have the strength or will to pray myself, so your prayers on my behalf are much appreciated. And SPECIAL thanks to Marilyn, Ian and Catherine who made our homecoming complete with two boxes from the States stuffed full of goodies!!!
The girls were delighted to be home. They played all into the evening, completely happy in their own little world full of "new" toys. When I walked in and saw "our" things, it made me feel an even stronger reminder that this is ou home. Even on the bad days, it is still our home. Even in the bad weeks, it is still our home. You see, I've been having some issues...
And since I'm not a particularly private person, I'll just go ahead and lay them out here. Before our three week hiatus from life here, I had really been struggling with being here. Not as in my-city-here, but as in asialand-here. For a variety of reasons (which I shall not include so that you can read this post in under an hour) I had been tired of asia-life. Tired of unsolicitied advice on everything from my kids health to my parenting skills to my electricity use. Tired of the girls not getting to play with grandparents. Tired of being critical of the people around me, tired of hearing more reports about the plethora of unsafe products from this country. Tired of all of it. It's one thing when you have loads of love for the place you life - you can deal with a lot of junk if you love the people. But, it felt like all the love I had for this country or this people got sapped everytime I walked out the door and people made my kids cry with their incessant touching and lavishing of attention.
I was actually afraid when the doctors told us to go to hong kong, because I didn't know if I'd want to come back or not. I was fairly accurate on that part - I wasn't just chomping at the bit to come back. I was having a fine time in hong kong, thank you very much. And I could have done with several more days of cinnamon rolls for breakfast and extravagant trips to the grocery store. But I do think that although the circumstances of our travel there were certainly less than desirable, hong kong was good for me. It was so nice to be away from here for a while and try to get a new perspective. It was nice to be distracted from issues that bother me so much - bloomin onions and shopping sprees are pretty good distractions! It was nice just not having to think about asialife, and just relax.
While we were in hong kong, we had heard that there were some floods in our city. Floods in asialand are quite the norm, but floods where we live are really unusual. I though it was odd, but didn't think anything about it until we got home. In the taxi home from the airport, the driver asked us if we'd heard the details; we hadn't. He told us a story with a lot of vague details that we later found out from our house helper:
The main public square in the city has an underground shopping center just below it. It's actually one of the nicer places in the city, but on this particular day you didn't want to be there. The rain started about 4:45pm, just as everyone is preparing to get off work. Perhaps some people who were out in the square hurried down to the shopping center to avoid getting wet. Within 20 minutes, the water had swelled from just a few centimeters to almost six feet. When things started getting crazy, a few bad apples in the group decided to start breaking display cases and stealing more expensive items, thinking they could make a quick getaway. When employees started realizing that was going on, they closed the electric gate in the front of the store, the kind you see at shopping malls in the states when stores haven't opened yet. Just as they did that, the power went out. It was pitch black inside the shopping center, with the rain continuing to seep in. There was no way to re-open the electric gate. The water continued coming in, steadily growing higher than six feet, rushing all through aisles and hallways. The government has yet to release a figure for the lives lost in the shopping center, but the lowest estimates are set at 100.
when I heard all that, I felt so much compassion and concern for those people in my city who were trapped inside with no hope of help. I wondered why it took such dramatic stories of death to muster my compassion. I wondered why I so easily felt concern for them in light of physical danger, but the even greater spiritual dangers they face can't seem to drive me to love them. And then I realized that what happened in that shopping mall was just a tangible picture of the spiritual reality that faces people in my city - and other cities - every day. They continue living their lives, thinking they are safe from the dangers of sin and separation from God. All of a sudden, with no warning, the consequences come. Higher and higher rises the flood around them, but they are left with no hope. Unable to swim, unable to escape, there is nothing but the dark sense of helplessness. I'm sure they all held out hope of a rescue, but there was none.
I kept thinking that if I were there in the shopping center, I would help. I could help. I can swim, most asianese cannot. I wasn't there that day. But, God reminded me, I am here. I am here to lead those who are willing to be rescued to the Rescuer.
I'm still not in love with asia-land. That sweet honeymoon feeling left years ago. But being away and the floods have helped me see things a little better, and hopefully a little more from His perspective. Thank you to all of your prayers for us while we were away; many times I didn't even have the strength or will to pray myself, so your prayers on my behalf are much appreciated. And SPECIAL thanks to Marilyn, Ian and Catherine who made our homecoming complete with two boxes from the States stuffed full of goodies!!!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
the laziness has taken over
I'm out of the hosptial, hallelujah, and minus one kidney stone. the stone incident didn't happen exactly the way they thought it would - the stone broke up into jillions of tiny peices while they were tryign to take it out - so they had to come out manually, so to speak...but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. When the largest peice of kidney stone came out, it was no bigger than a sesame seed, and I was so happy to get it out, I just rolled my eyes and gave it to the nurse. No cussing, you'll be pleased to know. :)
but now, I'm home from the hospital and having truly happy birthday times. Except that I'm feeling so tired and lazy. Today we went to hard rock cafe for lunch and ate some killer nachos (still as good as last time, paul and alicia!) and went to toys r' us down the street to stock up on a few necessary items - assorted crayola craft items, gerber finger food-ish things, touchable bubbles (thanks for the idea, erica!) and a new pop-up tent and tunnels to give the girls something to do on those days when it's just too (hot/rainy/cold/etc) to go outside.
And now, here I am, sitting on the couch, unable to move. The laziness has taken over. I can barely reach over the side of the couch to get more cheetos out of the bag. truly, this is the life. When can I move to hong kong?
but now, I'm home from the hospital and having truly happy birthday times. Except that I'm feeling so tired and lazy. Today we went to hard rock cafe for lunch and ate some killer nachos (still as good as last time, paul and alicia!) and went to toys r' us down the street to stock up on a few necessary items - assorted crayola craft items, gerber finger food-ish things, touchable bubbles (thanks for the idea, erica!) and a new pop-up tent and tunnels to give the girls something to do on those days when it's just too (hot/rainy/cold/etc) to go outside.
And now, here I am, sitting on the couch, unable to move. The laziness has taken over. I can barely reach over the side of the couch to get more cheetos out of the bag. truly, this is the life. When can I move to hong kong?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
and a happy birthday to you, too...
the kidney stone is out to ruin my life, I can sense it. It's like the thorn in my flesh, except, um, it's a stone in my kidney. Anyway, I went to the doc today, my BFF the urologist, and we did a little x-ray of mr. or mrs. stone. Finally today we saw him for the first time, because he didn't show up on the ultrasound, and the first x-ray was done when the stent was in so we couldn't see through the stent. But, sure enough, there he was in all his happy glory, just chillin out there in my ureter. Or my utethra. I'm still not exactly sure, but I think it's one of those.
So, doc says to me that since I can't stay in Hong Kong indefinetely, his recommended course of action would be to take the stone out at the soonest possbile time. I suggest Monday. He grimaces. "Monday is just cutting it a little too close," he says. He knows we leave on Wednesday. "I suggest tomorrow."
I groan. "Truly?" I ask him. By this point, we are friends so I can unashamedly ask questions like these now. "Yeah, what's wrong with tomorrow?"
"Nothing," I reply, "Except that it's my birthday! And my husband was going to take us out to Stanley (this cool little beach/market/al fresco dining area in hong kong) to celebrate and shop." I never get to go shopping. I was so excited. Plus, emma was excited to see the beach. And it was my birthday.
But, it was decided. Saturday would be too expensive (since it's an adventist hospital, I guess there are extra charges for making the docs come in on saturday?) and monday was to close to our departure date. So tomorrow around noon I'm going in to have a showdown with the stone. Actually, mr. urologist and mr. stone will be having the showdown, and I sure I hope the one I'm betting on comes out on top!
So, birthday celebrations will have to wait until perhaps saturday, but I will be finally glad to see the stone and know it is out of my body forever. Maybe I will have a few choice words to say to the stone, but maybe I'll keep them to myself. But maybe not. It might look a little odd to others if I'm caught talking to a kidney stone sitting in a specimen tray. We'll have to wait and see, I guess.
I happen to be very fortunate to have a very special birthday week. There are some incredible people who share my birthday week -
16th - my fab mom, who is partying in vegas right now with the other members of my family. Actually, there's no partying going on, just a whole lot of shopping. My mom said they hadn't even put one coin in a slot machine. Now there's willpower! :) Anyway, to my ever-increasingly beautiful mom, happy birthday!
17th - kim woo, one of oldest friends, or at least one of my oldest friends that I'm still in touch with. Tenth grade started off our friendship, and thankfully, thousands of miles have yet to separate it. I actually always sort of forget which day her birthday is on because I got it wrong the very first year of our freindship and I've been messed up ever since. So to kim, who's also hanging out in asialand (albeit in a much hotter and more remote place than I) happy birthday.
18th - the lovely and sophisticated Starbucks addict Mrs. Wind. I am so embarrased that the day slipped by without a personal birthday message, but here's a very public happy birthday to my asia friend and sister who has walked through so very much with me. Happy Birthday, Rach!
19th - the spunky and adorable katie, my youngest - and craziest - sister. It's a good thing she was with my parents on her birthday, because who knows what crazy thing she might try! haha! Though I've heard some sneaky tales of her and a Pathfinder...something about garbage cans...but that shall stay off the record. Katie, I'm starting to think that samantha is more like you than I thought - she's already a little sneakster!
20th - me, of course, who I shall here and now wish a happy birthday, and also my friend Erica, who I feel honored to share her birthday. In fact, we were planning on perhaps sharing our visit to stanley together (since she has two daughters the same age as emma and samantha) but instead we shared an early birthday dinner at TGI Fridays tonight. So, Erica, here's hoping we'll make many more asia birthday memories! :)
And one other bonus about my birthday week is that almost every year, the British open is right in the middle of it. And this year is no exception. As I was walking out of that bastion of Americanism, TGIFridays, I caught a quick glimpse of a sweatered-up Tiger Woods stalking the leaderboard at 3 under. Though I'm officially past my teenage tiger woods obsession, I'm always happy when he wins. Especially now that's he's had a baby he seems a little more human. Anyway, maybe I'll get to watch some British Open coverage while I await my visit with mr. kidney stone tomorrow afternoon.
Well, there you have it, all my birthday greetings and the update on the stone. I seem to have successfully wrangled my way out of staying overnight, so if in fact I do make it home tomorrow afternoon, I'll try to send out a little message.
So, doc says to me that since I can't stay in Hong Kong indefinetely, his recommended course of action would be to take the stone out at the soonest possbile time. I suggest Monday. He grimaces. "Monday is just cutting it a little too close," he says. He knows we leave on Wednesday. "I suggest tomorrow."
I groan. "Truly?" I ask him. By this point, we are friends so I can unashamedly ask questions like these now. "Yeah, what's wrong with tomorrow?"
"Nothing," I reply, "Except that it's my birthday! And my husband was going to take us out to Stanley (this cool little beach/market/al fresco dining area in hong kong) to celebrate and shop." I never get to go shopping. I was so excited. Plus, emma was excited to see the beach. And it was my birthday.
But, it was decided. Saturday would be too expensive (since it's an adventist hospital, I guess there are extra charges for making the docs come in on saturday?) and monday was to close to our departure date. So tomorrow around noon I'm going in to have a showdown with the stone. Actually, mr. urologist and mr. stone will be having the showdown, and I sure I hope the one I'm betting on comes out on top!
So, birthday celebrations will have to wait until perhaps saturday, but I will be finally glad to see the stone and know it is out of my body forever. Maybe I will have a few choice words to say to the stone, but maybe I'll keep them to myself. But maybe not. It might look a little odd to others if I'm caught talking to a kidney stone sitting in a specimen tray. We'll have to wait and see, I guess.
I happen to be very fortunate to have a very special birthday week. There are some incredible people who share my birthday week -
16th - my fab mom, who is partying in vegas right now with the other members of my family. Actually, there's no partying going on, just a whole lot of shopping. My mom said they hadn't even put one coin in a slot machine. Now there's willpower! :) Anyway, to my ever-increasingly beautiful mom, happy birthday!
17th - kim woo, one of oldest friends, or at least one of my oldest friends that I'm still in touch with. Tenth grade started off our friendship, and thankfully, thousands of miles have yet to separate it. I actually always sort of forget which day her birthday is on because I got it wrong the very first year of our freindship and I've been messed up ever since. So to kim, who's also hanging out in asialand (albeit in a much hotter and more remote place than I) happy birthday.
18th - the lovely and sophisticated Starbucks addict Mrs. Wind. I am so embarrased that the day slipped by without a personal birthday message, but here's a very public happy birthday to my asia friend and sister who has walked through so very much with me. Happy Birthday, Rach!
19th - the spunky and adorable katie, my youngest - and craziest - sister. It's a good thing she was with my parents on her birthday, because who knows what crazy thing she might try! haha! Though I've heard some sneaky tales of her and a Pathfinder...something about garbage cans...but that shall stay off the record. Katie, I'm starting to think that samantha is more like you than I thought - she's already a little sneakster!
20th - me, of course, who I shall here and now wish a happy birthday, and also my friend Erica, who I feel honored to share her birthday. In fact, we were planning on perhaps sharing our visit to stanley together (since she has two daughters the same age as emma and samantha) but instead we shared an early birthday dinner at TGI Fridays tonight. So, Erica, here's hoping we'll make many more asia birthday memories! :)
And one other bonus about my birthday week is that almost every year, the British open is right in the middle of it. And this year is no exception. As I was walking out of that bastion of Americanism, TGIFridays, I caught a quick glimpse of a sweatered-up Tiger Woods stalking the leaderboard at 3 under. Though I'm officially past my teenage tiger woods obsession, I'm always happy when he wins. Especially now that's he's had a baby he seems a little more human. Anyway, maybe I'll get to watch some British Open coverage while I await my visit with mr. kidney stone tomorrow afternoon.
Well, there you have it, all my birthday greetings and the update on the stone. I seem to have successfully wrangled my way out of staying overnight, so if in fact I do make it home tomorrow afternoon, I'll try to send out a little message.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
if you have an hour and some tissues...
Hi faithful blog readers. I do realize I have left you all in a bit of lurch recently, but if it is any consolation, there have been countless moments over the last week that I have mentally recorded so that my blog would be as accurate and detail-filled as possible. I don't know if tonight will be the completion of our recent saga - it is already 10:30pm and recently emotional energy has been a bit hard to come by, but you've got to start some time. I know that lots of you have stayed in the loop via josh and his information updates here and there, but for those of you who wonder what has been going on with us recently (and if you have an hour and a cold coke or coffee next to you), well...
We took a week of vacation on July 1st and went somewhere we've never been (always a fun thing do to on vacation, right?!) We generally have a family vacation rule - no vacations in the country we live in. The reason is a practical one: it just doesn't feel like vacation when you're still getting stared at, still getting your picture taken, still hearing asianese and using it yourself. But for whatever reason, we allowed our policy to be swayed by all the hoopla surrouding the city we planned to visit, known as the Paris of the East. (I'll let all you little internet sleuths research where that might be since you likely know my freakishly private tendencies when it comes to our details.) Anyway, our vacation was ok. It wasn't great, but it was fun in it's own way. Josh was sick for two days and it is certainly no fun to vacation by yourself with two kiddos. Anyway, we have lots of nice pictures just waiting to be uploaded and goggled at, so in due time that will come.
We arrived back to our happy home late on friday night, thanks to what seems like always-worsening airline service here in asia land. Too tired to even unpack our suitcases, we just left everything on the floor and crashed. Morning came, early as usual, for my sweet little songbirds. Ok, samantha is more a rooster, with her incessant calling out until someone will finally come and rescue her from her pack and play solitary confinement. But, anyway, that's not the point. I got up with the girls, got them breakfast, and opened the wide living curtains to welcome us all into the morning.
Not long after that, I started feeling odd pain in my right side. I laid down on the couch while the girls happily rediscovered all their toys that had been sadly missing from thier lives during vacation week. As the minutes went on, the pain didn't go away. Not even my Pop-Tarts, which I bought in previously mentioned vacation city for $6 a box sounded good. I brushed it off in my best "tough mom" attitude as typical morning sickness, or just discomfort and started the girls ready for our fellowship time later that morning.
Within an hour or so of waking up, the pain had increased to the point wherer I was doubled over on the bed, writhing in pain. I had never before had cramping of any kind with previous pregnancies and felt sure that if pregnancy discomforts included cramping this severe, something was abnormal. My best attempts at relieving the pain were futile, almost as if the pain was taunting my efforts. Oh you think that will help, huh? Try THIS! Changing positions, standing, sitting, laying, heat pads, cool pads, walking...nothing worked. I even mentally resurrected many of the labor techniques that had so successfully brought emma and samantha to the world. Still no help. By this point, the girls weren't allowed to come into the bedroom, for fear that they would be scared by the sight of their mom in so much agony. Finally remembering how much a hot shower helped during transitional labor with emma, I hightailed it into the shower and let the pulsating heat try to relieve some of my pain.
That helped bring some relief to what had now become hours of non-stop, no relief pain. While I sat motionless in the shower, josh scoured the web for symptoms, ideas, clues as to what might be the issue. He came to the shower and announced to me that we were going to the hospital. [I must say for clarification's sake, that "going to the hospital" in our little asia land carries with it some pretty serious implications. The fact that nine times out of ten I would never to go an asianese hospital betrays my lack of confidence in the medical system here.] Josh told me that based on his research, he thought it possibly could be a tubal pregnancy, where the egg implants incorrectly inside the fallopian tubes, instead of the uterus. Around 8-10 weeks (ahem) the baby starts to grow bigger, but the fallopian tubes obviously aren't designed to grow babies, so the result is a lot of pain and then the removal of the baby because (I think) it is potentiall life-threatining to the mother if the fallopian tubes burst.
So I very grudgingly get out of the shower, the only reprieve from the severe pain that had been shooting through my body, forced my clothes on and we headed to the mother and baby hospital where we'd do an ultrasound to confirm what would be a heartbreaking event. The hospital itself was actually pretty nice, I had to give them that. The four of us walked in, and josh greeted the receptionist quickly.
"My wife is pregnant and is in a lot of pain. We need to do an ultrasound immediately."
The receptionist mechanically replied, "Do you want to keep the baby or do you plan to abort it?"
Not such a great time for the "asianese culture we know exists" and the "asianese culture we are experiencing personally" to collide, but oh well. Josh, in more or less words, told her that we couldn't imagine not keeping a child that God had given to us, and could we please have some help.
We went upstairs to the rooms where you do these sorts of things. For me personally, things were a bit of a blur, so I didn't realize it at the time, but last night, josh described to me the waiting room as I moaned about in pain waiting for my ultrasound. Two other young couples and a single young woman also occupied the long, open corridor outside the doctors office. One young lady was collapsed, hidden, in the arms of her boyfriend while she cried. The other couple, a few benched down from them, were much more stoic as they waited for the release form from the doctor. Both had just had abortions.
Finally it was my turn. I was almost afraid to look at the grainy screen after josh had prepared me in the shower for the worst. I was afraid to look and see a motionless form on the screen, but even worse, I was afraid to look and see a beating heart but in the wrong place. I knew the outcome of that would be even more emotionally wrenching.
I told josh to look. I sat emma up on the table and told her to look at the TV, so she could watch and see the baby in mommy's tummy. I'm not sure if it was the prospect of "watching TV" or the excitement of new baby, but she was glued to screen. Of course, she couldn't make out anything, but we could. The baby was ok! The baby was growing! There was a little heart in there, beating happily away, doing all the things it was supposed to be doing. One hurdle was over, and tears spilled down my cheeks, making my percentage 100% of ultrasounds cried at. The pain was not from a misguided baby, and the baby was safe.
When the adreneline from the event finally wore off, the pain came back stronger than ever, and my irritation at being inside an inefficient asian hospital was not helping. They wanted to run all sorts of tests, do an exam, take my blood, yadee yadee yadee and I was getting light-headed, dizzy and could barely stand from the yet unexplained pain. After acquesing to a quick finger prick, I bolted out of the hospital and wanted to get back to the hot shower, the only place that served as a light oasis from what I would definetly describe as the most horrific pain ever known to me personally.
We got home and josh told me the results from the finger prick while I sat under the hot shower. My white blood cell count was extremely high, indicating the presence of some type of infection. The doctor said she thought there was something wrong with my appendix. Josh made another call to some American doctors who do some consulting on medical issues for us, and their advice was immediate: you must get to a major medical center as soon as possible. For us, that meant hong kong - the closest and most reasonable place to get western-style medical care. If it was something with my appendix, we only had 24 hours before infection would set in and negatively affect the baby.
Josh called for our friend amy to come to the house and help with the girls. He had to run all over town trying to find the fastest way to get to hong kong that day, and I of course, was no help since I was immobile in the shower. Amy came over, put the girls down for their nap, and somehow managed to open my suitcase (remember, I left it on the floor last night without bothering to unpack it or wash all the dirty clothes that were inside it) and repack it with whatever clean clothes remained in our closets. Two hours later, we were on a flight to hong kong. This is less than one day, remember, after arriving back in our home. Emma, the keen little observer that she is, reminded us every day when we were on vacation, that the hotel was not our home. Our home was our home, and here we were, uprooting her yet again. Sigh.
Miraculously, truly miraculously, the pain ebbed for the hours we were in transit to hong kong. I had cried on my bed to amy while josh was out buying tickets that I didn't think I could physically make it to hong kong. I couldn't even stand or sit, how could I confine myself on an airline seat for three hours? Our plane landed in hong kong, and we took a taxi straight from the airport to the hospital. It was past midnight before our taxi made it through the winding hills that make Hong Kong island so beautiful.
Nurse Tina, in the Urgent care department, couldn't have been more cheerful and immediately set about helping me. After a quick rectal exam (yep, they can never be quick enough!) and a few other tests, they quickly ruled out appendicitis. They admitted me for the night, and more doctors would come to see me in the morning.
The great thing about being in the hospital is that when the pain came back and reared its taunting head at me, the nurses would come by and give me a little shot in my butt and all that pain would just go away. So that was great, except I still didn't know what was wrong with me. Morning came and brought a new round of tests, more specifically an ultrasound. The doctors were limited to ultrasound use, even though they admitted that an x-ray would be much more accurate, but you know, when you're pregnant, x-rays just aren't such a great thing to do. The ultrasound revealed that my kidney was distended and swollen, indicating some kind of infection. the likely scenario was a kidney stone that had stayed lodged in the kidney and infected the stuff around it, but because the ultrasound was so limited, they just weren't sure. They prescribed some antibiotics for me, and hoped that would help. Of course, there were more invasive and effective ways to deal with these types of problems, but during pregnancies, the least invasive treatments are the way to go.
Two more days of staying in the hospital and taking antibiotics, hoping the infection would go away, giving the blockage more room to pass and let everythign go back to normal in that funky little kidney of mine. And two days of me in the hospital meant two days of josh being mr. mom, a job that while he is very capable of, is not quite used to. He did amazing things with our girls during those days - and I am reminded again of just another reason why I am so very thankful to have him.
On day three, the docs were concerned that I still had quite a lot of pain. The urologist decided the safest and best course of action was to do a minor procedure to put in a stent in my kidney - to dilate the tube that leads from the kidney to the bladder, giving the stone and infectious material more room to pass. We were in a position of weighing options - the first option, continuing to wait, posed the riskiest problem: if the infection gets worse, it could easily spread to other parts of the body and endanger the baby. The second option involved putting in this stent. The stent option also carried along with it anesthesia, in this case it would be an epidural, since (again) that was the safest option for the baby. Go figure, I have two babies with no meds at all and I need an epidural to get rid of a kidney stone. Sigh, such is life.
After explaining to me the pros and cons - and shedding a few tears at contemplating even the rarest of scenarios - it was quickly decided to go the stent route. Surgery was the next day, and went off without a hitch. The urologist was even extra pleased, because while he was inserting the stent, his little wire that guided the stent into place actually hit the blockage. He couldn't remove it totally, but he said it "disturbed" the blockage and all sorts of dark, pus-and-blood filled infectious gunk came spilling out. Fun times being a urologist, I guess.
Besides the I'd-rater-eat-chinese-food-than-hosptial-food-factor, te day and half of recovery in the hospital went well, and I even got released early for good behavior. haha, well, sort of. I told the nurse that REALLY, I was feeling great, so just an hour early wouldn't make such a difference. And it was true. After the procedure, that awful pain in the right side was gone. There was some minor discomfort due to the stent, but no pain, and I was really thankful. Finally, I got out of the hospital and got to hug the girls and my fab husband. What a crazy week it had been! Now the fun part was that we got to stay in hong kong for a week! My appointment to take the stent out was one week away and so much fun stuff was in front of us: eating at Outback Steakhouse, Hard Rock, Krispy kreme, ben and jerry's, taking emma to ride to the boat across Victoria Harbor, going shopping and to the beach at Stanley, Toys R Us...and a whole week, too! we were so excited.
After putting the girls in bed two nights later, I decided to stay up later than my exhausted, retired Mr.Mom husband and indulge by reading a current edition of Newsweek (yes, we're suckers for news magazines!). When I did decide to go to bed, it was only about 10pm, but I couldn't sleep. A tiny hint of pain had resurfaced, and I just laid there in bed thinking about it. I had gotten used to the pain moving around a bit - the docs said it would as the kidney obstruction tried to work its way out - so I wasn't surprised or anything. I changed positions, but the pain lingered. For a few brief moments, the pain kind of excited me, because if it was the kidney obstruction passing, then that was a great thing, a 100% reassurance that I could go home with confidence that my problem was solved. So, I tried out my old and trusty method, the hot shower. I got into the shower, knowing that even though the pain wasn't too bad, it would help and maybe relax me enough to sleep.
In the shower, though, the pain changed. What was once a constant and intense pain now came at brief and steady intervals, in concentrated strength. Where the pain before was only on the right side of my abdomen, this pain was now squarely in the middle. My children and husband were sleeping in the other room, and as I sat in the shower alone with the sound of the falling water, a very dark feeling came over me. Back in my home when the pain first came on, I was scared to death because I had never experienced pain like that. But this was different. I knew what kind of pain this was. My kidney stone was not passing.
About an hour later, I woke josh up and told him how I was feeling. I asked him some questions, he hugged me, and said I needed to go to the hospital. Though our hearts begged to stay together for what was next, he of course could not go with me.
It's hard to get a taxi at one in the morning, but finally one pulled up to the intersection I was standing at. The ride to the hospital was eerily painless. The intense pain, tears and blood of the last three hours had gone, and seemed to be replaced only by silent emptiness. The driver quietly sped through the highways of what must be one of the most overwhelmingly beautiful cities in the world. Out the window, the midnight hours carried a purplish haze that outlined the mountains of the city around us. Under the Harbor tunnel. Through the winding, jutting hills. Finally arriving at the hospital.
Miscarraige is such a white picket-fence word that hides the ugly event it really is. I've had so many friends and acquaintences that have dealt with loss of this kind. But until wednesday, it was black type on a white screen. Words on a page. No emotional associations were tied to the word, save for sincere apologies offered. Maybe it sounds a bit crazy, but contractions during labor can actually be enjoyable - because they are endured with the knowledge that the pain carries a purpose. That pain is bringing a baby to your arms! That pain is making your body do the right things so that the miracle of life can be witnessed in completion. But in some cases, those contractions only bring you the gut-wrenching reminder that things are going terribly wrong; the life that was insidde of you is not surviving. And your body wants it out.
So the contractions came and went, came and went, only this time no excited anticipation of crowning, or the magic moment of delivery or the most fulfilling event of all - cradling that just born baby, still bloody and blue, sqwaking awkwardly in his new place... This time, just the frustrating feeling of helplessness...feeling this little life slip away and being powerless to stop it or do anything about it... This time, just knowing that each contraction erased whatever doubts were there, dashed whatever hope remained... There would be no silver lining to these dark clouds.
Tina, the midnight emergency nurse who so kindly welcomed me five days ago, welcomed me again. Me and my crying self, all puffy faced and stuffy nosed. She brought me tissues and asked me about my mom. She dodged my questions until the doctor came and could give me conclusive answers. The doctor came, unwilling to accept my tearful apologies from waking him at 2am, and kindly and professionally did the ultrasound I was dreading. Even though I expected the words, even though I knew they were coming, the impact of his words still knocked the breath out of me. Your baby is not surviving.
During the ultrasound, my body actually ejected the placental tissue which was, in effect, our third baby. The doctor asked me if I wanted to see, and I did. As I carefully examined the contents of the tray, tears somehow managed to escape despite my best attempts not to let them. Perhaps sensing me trying to make sense of it all, the doctor offered, "There's not actually a baby in there, it's just the placental tissue where it was growing and eventually would have been."
I agreed, it would have been hard to call that little mass of tissue I saw a baby. But it still felt like our baby. It still felt like the child that had been dreamed in the heart of God and then placed in my womb. It still felt like all the love and hope and potentional and plans that were our third child. There were no arms or toes or organs or definable anything, just a bunch of white and red that medically made no sense to me but yet still represented a life that I loved. This was the one baby we had planned. Emma and Samantha were our little heavenly surprises, but this one that I was looking at, was one we had prayed for and hoped for and tried for and expected and planned for and rejoiced over.
I wanted to look, because I knew that was the only time I'd ever see that baby. I was able to keep the ultrasound photo that was taken just days before, when heartbeats pounded steadily and blood flowed in and out freely to the little one.
I stayed in the hospital that night, and the next morning had a minor procedure to make sure that all the remaining tissue was out so nothing would get infected. I slept and cried and wondered.
I got the feeling later from my ob/gyn that from the moment I checked into the hospital with my kidney business, he placed the baby's survival chances in very low percentages. That much pain, he said - even without the added invasiveness of antibiotics, anesthetics, and surgery - causes lots of trauma to a child just a few weeks old. The baby wasn't stable enough to endure just the pain my body was dealing with, not to mention the barrage of other things coming its way. Even though so many precautions were taken for the baby, it just wasn't enough.
I am honestly one of the healthiest people I know. I never get sick, I have an insanely high pain tolerance, I have no genetic tendencies towards disease or illness, and am in fairly decent shape. I never get sick. And yet, here I stand - being flown out of the country with a freak kidney infection that takes the life of our baby. What's up with that??? Of course I wonder, what if I wouldnt' have done the surgery, what if this, what if that? But there was honestly no other way to handle the situation. It does appear that if this kidney business wouldn't have happened, the baby would still be fine. But no amount of second guessing changes the outcome, so there you have it.
I know all this carried a lot of details. I'm sorry if it was too much - I was recording it as much for myself as for you guys, so please forgive the length of the post. Just writing it all out has been theraputic; I had been putting off writing about it until I could really devote some time to it, and now it's done.
Josh and I are doing well. We talk about it when we feel like we need to talk about it, and we speak freely and openly. We talk about if we want to try again, when we want to try again. We talk about waiting, we talk about greiving, we talk about moving on. Moving on feels both unfair and critical. Unfair in the sense that a life, a child that was already a part of our family in our minds, we were just supposed to move on from? But, then, you have to move on. We have to move on. We have two precious daughters - and each day since Wednesday, I have thanked God anew for them, totally unaware how much I had taken their lives for granted.
I'm thankful too, for those who are experiencing such happy days - for becky, who any day now should be bringing a new one into the world, for erica who is braving the new territory of three, for misty who is carrying a blessed little one that would have indeed been a good friend of ours, for april who is helping bring emma and samantha another girl to play with. For these lives I can rejoice even in my own loss.
So there you have it. Please pray for us, but don't worry about us. We're doing ok and we know that the days will keep getting better. And it's ok not to comment; I wouldnt' know what to comment after a post like this, but I know that you still love us.
We took a week of vacation on July 1st and went somewhere we've never been (always a fun thing do to on vacation, right?!) We generally have a family vacation rule - no vacations in the country we live in. The reason is a practical one: it just doesn't feel like vacation when you're still getting stared at, still getting your picture taken, still hearing asianese and using it yourself. But for whatever reason, we allowed our policy to be swayed by all the hoopla surrouding the city we planned to visit, known as the Paris of the East. (I'll let all you little internet sleuths research where that might be since you likely know my freakishly private tendencies when it comes to our details.) Anyway, our vacation was ok. It wasn't great, but it was fun in it's own way. Josh was sick for two days and it is certainly no fun to vacation by yourself with two kiddos. Anyway, we have lots of nice pictures just waiting to be uploaded and goggled at, so in due time that will come.
We arrived back to our happy home late on friday night, thanks to what seems like always-worsening airline service here in asia land. Too tired to even unpack our suitcases, we just left everything on the floor and crashed. Morning came, early as usual, for my sweet little songbirds. Ok, samantha is more a rooster, with her incessant calling out until someone will finally come and rescue her from her pack and play solitary confinement. But, anyway, that's not the point. I got up with the girls, got them breakfast, and opened the wide living curtains to welcome us all into the morning.
Not long after that, I started feeling odd pain in my right side. I laid down on the couch while the girls happily rediscovered all their toys that had been sadly missing from thier lives during vacation week. As the minutes went on, the pain didn't go away. Not even my Pop-Tarts, which I bought in previously mentioned vacation city for $6 a box sounded good. I brushed it off in my best "tough mom" attitude as typical morning sickness, or just discomfort and started the girls ready for our fellowship time later that morning.
Within an hour or so of waking up, the pain had increased to the point wherer I was doubled over on the bed, writhing in pain. I had never before had cramping of any kind with previous pregnancies and felt sure that if pregnancy discomforts included cramping this severe, something was abnormal. My best attempts at relieving the pain were futile, almost as if the pain was taunting my efforts. Oh you think that will help, huh? Try THIS! Changing positions, standing, sitting, laying, heat pads, cool pads, walking...nothing worked. I even mentally resurrected many of the labor techniques that had so successfully brought emma and samantha to the world. Still no help. By this point, the girls weren't allowed to come into the bedroom, for fear that they would be scared by the sight of their mom in so much agony. Finally remembering how much a hot shower helped during transitional labor with emma, I hightailed it into the shower and let the pulsating heat try to relieve some of my pain.
That helped bring some relief to what had now become hours of non-stop, no relief pain. While I sat motionless in the shower, josh scoured the web for symptoms, ideas, clues as to what might be the issue. He came to the shower and announced to me that we were going to the hospital. [I must say for clarification's sake, that "going to the hospital" in our little asia land carries with it some pretty serious implications. The fact that nine times out of ten I would never to go an asianese hospital betrays my lack of confidence in the medical system here.] Josh told me that based on his research, he thought it possibly could be a tubal pregnancy, where the egg implants incorrectly inside the fallopian tubes, instead of the uterus. Around 8-10 weeks (ahem) the baby starts to grow bigger, but the fallopian tubes obviously aren't designed to grow babies, so the result is a lot of pain and then the removal of the baby because (I think) it is potentiall life-threatining to the mother if the fallopian tubes burst.
So I very grudgingly get out of the shower, the only reprieve from the severe pain that had been shooting through my body, forced my clothes on and we headed to the mother and baby hospital where we'd do an ultrasound to confirm what would be a heartbreaking event. The hospital itself was actually pretty nice, I had to give them that. The four of us walked in, and josh greeted the receptionist quickly.
"My wife is pregnant and is in a lot of pain. We need to do an ultrasound immediately."
The receptionist mechanically replied, "Do you want to keep the baby or do you plan to abort it?"
Not such a great time for the "asianese culture we know exists" and the "asianese culture we are experiencing personally" to collide, but oh well. Josh, in more or less words, told her that we couldn't imagine not keeping a child that God had given to us, and could we please have some help.
We went upstairs to the rooms where you do these sorts of things. For me personally, things were a bit of a blur, so I didn't realize it at the time, but last night, josh described to me the waiting room as I moaned about in pain waiting for my ultrasound. Two other young couples and a single young woman also occupied the long, open corridor outside the doctors office. One young lady was collapsed, hidden, in the arms of her boyfriend while she cried. The other couple, a few benched down from them, were much more stoic as they waited for the release form from the doctor. Both had just had abortions.
Finally it was my turn. I was almost afraid to look at the grainy screen after josh had prepared me in the shower for the worst. I was afraid to look and see a motionless form on the screen, but even worse, I was afraid to look and see a beating heart but in the wrong place. I knew the outcome of that would be even more emotionally wrenching.
I told josh to look. I sat emma up on the table and told her to look at the TV, so she could watch and see the baby in mommy's tummy. I'm not sure if it was the prospect of "watching TV" or the excitement of new baby, but she was glued to screen. Of course, she couldn't make out anything, but we could. The baby was ok! The baby was growing! There was a little heart in there, beating happily away, doing all the things it was supposed to be doing. One hurdle was over, and tears spilled down my cheeks, making my percentage 100% of ultrasounds cried at. The pain was not from a misguided baby, and the baby was safe.
When the adreneline from the event finally wore off, the pain came back stronger than ever, and my irritation at being inside an inefficient asian hospital was not helping. They wanted to run all sorts of tests, do an exam, take my blood, yadee yadee yadee and I was getting light-headed, dizzy and could barely stand from the yet unexplained pain. After acquesing to a quick finger prick, I bolted out of the hospital and wanted to get back to the hot shower, the only place that served as a light oasis from what I would definetly describe as the most horrific pain ever known to me personally.
We got home and josh told me the results from the finger prick while I sat under the hot shower. My white blood cell count was extremely high, indicating the presence of some type of infection. The doctor said she thought there was something wrong with my appendix. Josh made another call to some American doctors who do some consulting on medical issues for us, and their advice was immediate: you must get to a major medical center as soon as possible. For us, that meant hong kong - the closest and most reasonable place to get western-style medical care. If it was something with my appendix, we only had 24 hours before infection would set in and negatively affect the baby.
Josh called for our friend amy to come to the house and help with the girls. He had to run all over town trying to find the fastest way to get to hong kong that day, and I of course, was no help since I was immobile in the shower. Amy came over, put the girls down for their nap, and somehow managed to open my suitcase (remember, I left it on the floor last night without bothering to unpack it or wash all the dirty clothes that were inside it) and repack it with whatever clean clothes remained in our closets. Two hours later, we were on a flight to hong kong. This is less than one day, remember, after arriving back in our home. Emma, the keen little observer that she is, reminded us every day when we were on vacation, that the hotel was not our home. Our home was our home, and here we were, uprooting her yet again. Sigh.
Miraculously, truly miraculously, the pain ebbed for the hours we were in transit to hong kong. I had cried on my bed to amy while josh was out buying tickets that I didn't think I could physically make it to hong kong. I couldn't even stand or sit, how could I confine myself on an airline seat for three hours? Our plane landed in hong kong, and we took a taxi straight from the airport to the hospital. It was past midnight before our taxi made it through the winding hills that make Hong Kong island so beautiful.
Nurse Tina, in the Urgent care department, couldn't have been more cheerful and immediately set about helping me. After a quick rectal exam (yep, they can never be quick enough!) and a few other tests, they quickly ruled out appendicitis. They admitted me for the night, and more doctors would come to see me in the morning.
The great thing about being in the hospital is that when the pain came back and reared its taunting head at me, the nurses would come by and give me a little shot in my butt and all that pain would just go away. So that was great, except I still didn't know what was wrong with me. Morning came and brought a new round of tests, more specifically an ultrasound. The doctors were limited to ultrasound use, even though they admitted that an x-ray would be much more accurate, but you know, when you're pregnant, x-rays just aren't such a great thing to do. The ultrasound revealed that my kidney was distended and swollen, indicating some kind of infection. the likely scenario was a kidney stone that had stayed lodged in the kidney and infected the stuff around it, but because the ultrasound was so limited, they just weren't sure. They prescribed some antibiotics for me, and hoped that would help. Of course, there were more invasive and effective ways to deal with these types of problems, but during pregnancies, the least invasive treatments are the way to go.
Two more days of staying in the hospital and taking antibiotics, hoping the infection would go away, giving the blockage more room to pass and let everythign go back to normal in that funky little kidney of mine. And two days of me in the hospital meant two days of josh being mr. mom, a job that while he is very capable of, is not quite used to. He did amazing things with our girls during those days - and I am reminded again of just another reason why I am so very thankful to have him.
On day three, the docs were concerned that I still had quite a lot of pain. The urologist decided the safest and best course of action was to do a minor procedure to put in a stent in my kidney - to dilate the tube that leads from the kidney to the bladder, giving the stone and infectious material more room to pass. We were in a position of weighing options - the first option, continuing to wait, posed the riskiest problem: if the infection gets worse, it could easily spread to other parts of the body and endanger the baby. The second option involved putting in this stent. The stent option also carried along with it anesthesia, in this case it would be an epidural, since (again) that was the safest option for the baby. Go figure, I have two babies with no meds at all and I need an epidural to get rid of a kidney stone. Sigh, such is life.
After explaining to me the pros and cons - and shedding a few tears at contemplating even the rarest of scenarios - it was quickly decided to go the stent route. Surgery was the next day, and went off without a hitch. The urologist was even extra pleased, because while he was inserting the stent, his little wire that guided the stent into place actually hit the blockage. He couldn't remove it totally, but he said it "disturbed" the blockage and all sorts of dark, pus-and-blood filled infectious gunk came spilling out. Fun times being a urologist, I guess.
Besides the I'd-rater-eat-chinese-food-than-hosptial-food-factor, te day and half of recovery in the hospital went well, and I even got released early for good behavior. haha, well, sort of. I told the nurse that REALLY, I was feeling great, so just an hour early wouldn't make such a difference. And it was true. After the procedure, that awful pain in the right side was gone. There was some minor discomfort due to the stent, but no pain, and I was really thankful. Finally, I got out of the hospital and got to hug the girls and my fab husband. What a crazy week it had been! Now the fun part was that we got to stay in hong kong for a week! My appointment to take the stent out was one week away and so much fun stuff was in front of us: eating at Outback Steakhouse, Hard Rock, Krispy kreme, ben and jerry's, taking emma to ride to the boat across Victoria Harbor, going shopping and to the beach at Stanley, Toys R Us...and a whole week, too! we were so excited.
After putting the girls in bed two nights later, I decided to stay up later than my exhausted, retired Mr.Mom husband and indulge by reading a current edition of Newsweek (yes, we're suckers for news magazines!). When I did decide to go to bed, it was only about 10pm, but I couldn't sleep. A tiny hint of pain had resurfaced, and I just laid there in bed thinking about it. I had gotten used to the pain moving around a bit - the docs said it would as the kidney obstruction tried to work its way out - so I wasn't surprised or anything. I changed positions, but the pain lingered. For a few brief moments, the pain kind of excited me, because if it was the kidney obstruction passing, then that was a great thing, a 100% reassurance that I could go home with confidence that my problem was solved. So, I tried out my old and trusty method, the hot shower. I got into the shower, knowing that even though the pain wasn't too bad, it would help and maybe relax me enough to sleep.
In the shower, though, the pain changed. What was once a constant and intense pain now came at brief and steady intervals, in concentrated strength. Where the pain before was only on the right side of my abdomen, this pain was now squarely in the middle. My children and husband were sleeping in the other room, and as I sat in the shower alone with the sound of the falling water, a very dark feeling came over me. Back in my home when the pain first came on, I was scared to death because I had never experienced pain like that. But this was different. I knew what kind of pain this was. My kidney stone was not passing.
About an hour later, I woke josh up and told him how I was feeling. I asked him some questions, he hugged me, and said I needed to go to the hospital. Though our hearts begged to stay together for what was next, he of course could not go with me.
It's hard to get a taxi at one in the morning, but finally one pulled up to the intersection I was standing at. The ride to the hospital was eerily painless. The intense pain, tears and blood of the last three hours had gone, and seemed to be replaced only by silent emptiness. The driver quietly sped through the highways of what must be one of the most overwhelmingly beautiful cities in the world. Out the window, the midnight hours carried a purplish haze that outlined the mountains of the city around us. Under the Harbor tunnel. Through the winding, jutting hills. Finally arriving at the hospital.
Miscarraige is such a white picket-fence word that hides the ugly event it really is. I've had so many friends and acquaintences that have dealt with loss of this kind. But until wednesday, it was black type on a white screen. Words on a page. No emotional associations were tied to the word, save for sincere apologies offered. Maybe it sounds a bit crazy, but contractions during labor can actually be enjoyable - because they are endured with the knowledge that the pain carries a purpose. That pain is bringing a baby to your arms! That pain is making your body do the right things so that the miracle of life can be witnessed in completion. But in some cases, those contractions only bring you the gut-wrenching reminder that things are going terribly wrong; the life that was insidde of you is not surviving. And your body wants it out.
So the contractions came and went, came and went, only this time no excited anticipation of crowning, or the magic moment of delivery or the most fulfilling event of all - cradling that just born baby, still bloody and blue, sqwaking awkwardly in his new place... This time, just the frustrating feeling of helplessness...feeling this little life slip away and being powerless to stop it or do anything about it... This time, just knowing that each contraction erased whatever doubts were there, dashed whatever hope remained... There would be no silver lining to these dark clouds.
Tina, the midnight emergency nurse who so kindly welcomed me five days ago, welcomed me again. Me and my crying self, all puffy faced and stuffy nosed. She brought me tissues and asked me about my mom. She dodged my questions until the doctor came and could give me conclusive answers. The doctor came, unwilling to accept my tearful apologies from waking him at 2am, and kindly and professionally did the ultrasound I was dreading. Even though I expected the words, even though I knew they were coming, the impact of his words still knocked the breath out of me. Your baby is not surviving.
During the ultrasound, my body actually ejected the placental tissue which was, in effect, our third baby. The doctor asked me if I wanted to see, and I did. As I carefully examined the contents of the tray, tears somehow managed to escape despite my best attempts not to let them. Perhaps sensing me trying to make sense of it all, the doctor offered, "There's not actually a baby in there, it's just the placental tissue where it was growing and eventually would have been."
I agreed, it would have been hard to call that little mass of tissue I saw a baby. But it still felt like our baby. It still felt like the child that had been dreamed in the heart of God and then placed in my womb. It still felt like all the love and hope and potentional and plans that were our third child. There were no arms or toes or organs or definable anything, just a bunch of white and red that medically made no sense to me but yet still represented a life that I loved. This was the one baby we had planned. Emma and Samantha were our little heavenly surprises, but this one that I was looking at, was one we had prayed for and hoped for and tried for and expected and planned for and rejoiced over.
I wanted to look, because I knew that was the only time I'd ever see that baby. I was able to keep the ultrasound photo that was taken just days before, when heartbeats pounded steadily and blood flowed in and out freely to the little one.
I stayed in the hospital that night, and the next morning had a minor procedure to make sure that all the remaining tissue was out so nothing would get infected. I slept and cried and wondered.
I got the feeling later from my ob/gyn that from the moment I checked into the hospital with my kidney business, he placed the baby's survival chances in very low percentages. That much pain, he said - even without the added invasiveness of antibiotics, anesthetics, and surgery - causes lots of trauma to a child just a few weeks old. The baby wasn't stable enough to endure just the pain my body was dealing with, not to mention the barrage of other things coming its way. Even though so many precautions were taken for the baby, it just wasn't enough.
I am honestly one of the healthiest people I know. I never get sick, I have an insanely high pain tolerance, I have no genetic tendencies towards disease or illness, and am in fairly decent shape. I never get sick. And yet, here I stand - being flown out of the country with a freak kidney infection that takes the life of our baby. What's up with that??? Of course I wonder, what if I wouldnt' have done the surgery, what if this, what if that? But there was honestly no other way to handle the situation. It does appear that if this kidney business wouldn't have happened, the baby would still be fine. But no amount of second guessing changes the outcome, so there you have it.
I know all this carried a lot of details. I'm sorry if it was too much - I was recording it as much for myself as for you guys, so please forgive the length of the post. Just writing it all out has been theraputic; I had been putting off writing about it until I could really devote some time to it, and now it's done.
Josh and I are doing well. We talk about it when we feel like we need to talk about it, and we speak freely and openly. We talk about if we want to try again, when we want to try again. We talk about waiting, we talk about greiving, we talk about moving on. Moving on feels both unfair and critical. Unfair in the sense that a life, a child that was already a part of our family in our minds, we were just supposed to move on from? But, then, you have to move on. We have to move on. We have two precious daughters - and each day since Wednesday, I have thanked God anew for them, totally unaware how much I had taken their lives for granted.
I'm thankful too, for those who are experiencing such happy days - for becky, who any day now should be bringing a new one into the world, for erica who is braving the new territory of three, for misty who is carrying a blessed little one that would have indeed been a good friend of ours, for april who is helping bring emma and samantha another girl to play with. For these lives I can rejoice even in my own loss.
So there you have it. Please pray for us, but don't worry about us. We're doing ok and we know that the days will keep getting better. And it's ok not to comment; I wouldnt' know what to comment after a post like this, but I know that you still love us.
Monday, July 09, 2007
about mama eggroll
Dear Adventures of mama and little eggroll readers,
Papa Eggroll here. Just wanted to put a quick word up on the blog about Mama Eggroll. We had to travel last week in order to renew our passports, and the day we arrived back home, Mama Eggroll began having some pain in her side. Now Mama Eggroll is honestly one of the toughest people I know, but she was really hurting (she had two kids natural for goodness sake and you would have thought she was going for a walk). Anyway, after a possible tubal pregnancy scare (which it wasn't, the baby is fine) and after an appendicitis scare (which it wasn't), we have now traveled to a different country in order to get the treatment needed for Mama Eggroll.
She is doing well. She has been in the hospital since early Sunday morning our time. Essentially, she has been diagnosed with an infection in her kidney, and so she is on antibiotics until it clears up and then we'll be on our way back home (our house) after a few days of rest and some Cheese Fries and AwesomeBlossom.
Emma said something funny, yet perceptive last week as we had to travel to renew our passports. (we've now been out of our home 8 of the last 9 nights). We were staying in a serviced apartment since it offers more ammenities and multiple rooms at a lower price, and we told Emma we were going back home (we meant the serviced apartment). She said, "mama, the hotel is a hotel; the hotel is not our home; our home is our home." Exactly like that. Logical just like Papa Eggroll. She's so cute. But it really told us a lot of where she is thinking: (1) she knows when we're "not at home" now, and (2) she associates our apartment in the city we live in as home. She will only think of our home state in the USA as mama and daddy's home and where we go when we go to the USA. It's strange for me and Rachel to think about that sometimes because I want her to feel the same pride towards my hometown as I do when I think about my hometown and my home state. She'll feel her own sense of pride but toward something different I suppose--maybe growing up with multiple cultures and speaking multiple languages? Who knows?
Please remember them today to our Father: ask for good rest for all of us, obedience to daddy, patience for daddy, and most of all, that Mama Eggroll would be healed quickly.
Papa Eggroll here. Just wanted to put a quick word up on the blog about Mama Eggroll. We had to travel last week in order to renew our passports, and the day we arrived back home, Mama Eggroll began having some pain in her side. Now Mama Eggroll is honestly one of the toughest people I know, but she was really hurting (she had two kids natural for goodness sake and you would have thought she was going for a walk). Anyway, after a possible tubal pregnancy scare (which it wasn't, the baby is fine) and after an appendicitis scare (which it wasn't), we have now traveled to a different country in order to get the treatment needed for Mama Eggroll.
She is doing well. She has been in the hospital since early Sunday morning our time. Essentially, she has been diagnosed with an infection in her kidney, and so she is on antibiotics until it clears up and then we'll be on our way back home (our house) after a few days of rest and some Cheese Fries and AwesomeBlossom.
Emma said something funny, yet perceptive last week as we had to travel to renew our passports. (we've now been out of our home 8 of the last 9 nights). We were staying in a serviced apartment since it offers more ammenities and multiple rooms at a lower price, and we told Emma we were going back home (we meant the serviced apartment). She said, "mama, the hotel is a hotel; the hotel is not our home; our home is our home." Exactly like that. Logical just like Papa Eggroll. She's so cute. But it really told us a lot of where she is thinking: (1) she knows when we're "not at home" now, and (2) she associates our apartment in the city we live in as home. She will only think of our home state in the USA as mama and daddy's home and where we go when we go to the USA. It's strange for me and Rachel to think about that sometimes because I want her to feel the same pride towards my hometown as I do when I think about my hometown and my home state. She'll feel her own sense of pride but toward something different I suppose--maybe growing up with multiple cultures and speaking multiple languages? Who knows?
Please remember them today to our Father: ask for good rest for all of us, obedience to daddy, patience for daddy, and most of all, that Mama Eggroll would be healed quickly.
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