Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Disturbing Dream

I love Mondays and Fridays because Marcus usually gets home around 3pm!  I love it.  Yes, that makes for longer days Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, but that's ok.  Mondays and Fridays are good.

So, this past Monday, when Marcus got home, I actually took a nap.  Saturday night I got about 4 hours of sleep (that's been generous on my estimation) and Sunday was Sammy's birthday, so I was running on adrenaline.  Monday...I needed that nap.

And I had the most bizarre and disturbing dream.

I can't remember the exact circumstances, but something had happened to me.  It wasn't a car accident or anything like that though.  I was in a hospital, laying in a bed.  There was no blood or open wound, but something was very wrong with me.  There were 2 nurses and a doctor.  I couldn't speak.  I don't know if my eyes were open and saw what was happening, or if in the dream I was able to see because my spirit was leaving my body.  I was slowly dying.  And the doctor was in no rush to help.  "So now, her lungs are filling up...can someone get my gloves?  I can't seem to find them."  I was panicked because 1) I didn't want to die  2) I was beginning to have a hard time breath.  My chest felt really heavy.  The nurse told the doctor that my numbers were dropping and he said something about how it wouldn't be long now, but he was getting ready to work on me.  

The 3rd reason my panic was starting to pick up was the disturbing part of the dream.  3) I was afraid I would have a seizure.  I felt my head get light, my stomach felt sick, I had a hard time breathing, and I thought I was on the verge of having a seizure.

I woke up.

Disturbing.  I have no idea what a seizure feels like.  Callie has asked me a lot about why Sammy's body does what it does when she has a seizure.  Since the one last Monday, Callie seems really concerned about Samantha.  Maybe that's why it was on my mind.  I don't know.  But this dream made me wonder if Sammy thinks these things before her seizure hits.  Does she know it's coming and thinks, "Oh no.  Please no."?  I was so panicked.  So upset.  And so helpless.  It was horrible.

All day yesterday I was bothered by it.  Today, not so much.  (sigh)  Who needs dreams like that?!  Sheesh.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Bummer...But Worth It

I've been bummed out the past couple days.

Monday started fine.  It was a nice day.  That night we went to a BBQ to say goodbye to some friends who will be moving away.  On the way home, Samantha had a seizure.  We pulled over, I jumped out of the car and got in the back with her, and just waited.  We didn't have Diastat, but it was clearly a seizure that could have used it.  It was an intense seizure...convulsing, lips blue/purple, very pale face, eyes rolled back...and I couldn't help her.  It was the worst feeling.  Callie asked what was wrong with Sammy, and I just explained the best I could as Samantha continued to convulse.

When she finally stopped, it was clear that she wasn't coming to.  I just couldn't get her to look at me.  When we got home, she was completely limp.  I held her for a couple hours that night.  She cried for awhile.  I'm not sure why.  I don't know if her crying is from fear or pain.  I don't know if she's dizzy or tired.  Or, perhaps it's all of that combined.  Either way, it breaks my heart.

This seizure really bothered me.  She's been having them more regularly again but skipped the month of May.  Most of the seizures have been at school.  This was the first one I've seen in a long time...and it was bad.

Seizures make me sad.  This picture wasn't taken yesterday, but a few months back when Sammy was sick.  She is so active...always going going going...so when she's on the couch like this, you know something is very wrong.  Sickness and seizures.  They both really put her out of commission. :(
Last week I was thinking about Sammy and wondered, "How long will we have with her?"  I'm not afraid.  I'm not facing the future with fear of that horrible day.  But, I don't welcome it.  And I recognize that her reality is that her days are a little more fragile than most.  And it's a bummer.  A really big bummer.

So, with those thoughts on my mind, and watching her have this seizure, I have had a harder time recovering from this seizure than she has had.  Moments like those, when I sat in the car hold her little face in my hands -- it puts things into perspective.  Those pounds I want to lose?  Who cares?  Seriously.

But today a fried came over for a playdate with her kids.  We talked and laughed and it was healing.  It brought me out of my mini funk and put things into a different perspective ~ one that I appreciated.  Though each day is a gift and I'm grateful to be reminded of how precious life is, we also need to find ways to cope, enjoy the relationships we have, laugh, and not be consumed with the heaviness of any situation.  Because, I don't think I have time for that...or want to make time for that in my life.  I think I would miss out on a lot of joy if my heart was that heavy all the time, even if it was heavy with feeling all the deep love I have for my angelic daughter.

Without going into much detail, I really feel like, in a very odd way, both Sammy's seizure AND today's play date were tender mercies that urged me to make changes in my life, while also confirming Heavenly Father's love for our family.  Yesterday I would not have said I appreciated these little experiences, but tonight...I think I can.

It's all still a bummer, but one day, I'll understand and it'll be worth it.


When I Choose the Right, the Holy Ghost Will Help Me

Callie gave her first talk in Primary a couple weeks ago.  Here's what she shared:


If I choose the right, the Holy Ghost will help me.  In the Book of Mormon, Lehi's family found the Liahona.  If they made right choices, it led the right way.  If they made bad choices, the Liahona didn't help them.  The Liahona and the Holy Ghost are alike.  If I make good choices, the Holy Ghost will help me.  If I made bad choices, I may not get that help.  I know if I make good choices, the Holy Ghost will help me.  


For a little girl, I think her understanding of choosing the right is on course.  She did a great job and I admit, I teared up as her daddy helped her give her very first talk.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Fathers Day 2013

I've been so blessed by fantastic fathers in my life.  My own dad is the best.  Hands down, he's one of the best dads I know and I think about him often in my parenting.  I try to have his patience.  I'm not as good as he is at it, but he is a big influence in my life about what kind of parent I want to be.

Marcus.  He's a great dad to our kiddos.  He adores Samantha and has since day 1.  He loves wrestling with her, making her laugh, and just snuggling with her in the mornings on the couch.  He loves Callie and prays for her often.  He worries about her and wants what is best.  He takes time out of his busy day to spend time with her and give her the extra attention she seems to need some days.  And Micah?  He's pretty proud of his son and our little Micah loves him right back.  They have had a pretty immediate bond and it's been fun to watch.

Never has Samantha's disabilities or health problems been an issue or gotten in the way of his loving her with his whole heart.  Never has the fact that Callie and Micah are not biologically ours been an issue or gotten in the way of his loving them with his whole heart.  It seems silly to even write this because it's so natural for us, but race, gender...nothing...has kept him from being anything but a great dad who loves his kids and shows it regularly.  I have been known to take that all for granted until I hear of, or meet, someone who struggles with some of those things.  He embraces fatherhood.  And I love him all the more for it.

Happy Father's Day Marcus

After church we took some pictures.  Micah was already asleep.   So, here's Daddy with his girls.  Yes, this is the best picture we got of the day.

Callie, why don't you squeeze harder?

Yep, that's better.

I love you Marcus.
(Nice photography Callie)

Callie picked out this card that sang and she thought it was hilarious.  It was very difficult for her to not give it to him a week ago!

Sammy made Daddy this shirt at school.
And lest we forget that Micah is still here in our family...here's a quick snap shot.  No, he regretfully didn't get in any of the official Father's Day pictures, I assure you he thoroughly enjoyed his first Father's Day festivities and gave Daddy plenty of smiles, giggles, squeals, and bites.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl

I love Roald Dahl.  I really do.  Before even reading any of his books, I knew I loved him....because my best friend, Emily, loved him and so to be cool like her...yeah, I totally love him too.  And then I started reading.  Good thing I really did end up liking what I read, otherwise I would have been a big. fat. liar.  Phew.  Close call.

I love the worlds he creates.  The imagination.  The creativity.  Even the mean people in his books.  It's all so absolutely like-able.

In our move, I stumbled across a copy of James and the Giant Peach.  I had never read it and decided to delve in.  I mean, it's Roald Dahl.  No.  People.  This is not Roald Dahl.  I mean, it is, but this book is plain weird.  Weird.  It's a short book so I was going to finish it no matter what, but it's just bizarre.  Nevertheless, the end was very satisfying and I'm glad I read it.  But truly, I will never read it again.  Instead of thinking how creative it was, I just thought it was strange.  It makes me sad to say that, but maybe I'll go read Danny the Champion of the World, or BFG and feel better about life again.


Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Nine Months

Today Micah is 9 months old.

Nine months.

It was a busy day starting at 7am.  All three kids in tote, we went to physical therapy for Samantha, then to a doctor's appointment.  It doesn't sound that complicated, but believe me, it was.  There were a lot of little stops in between and shuffling from building to building.  Cranky, impatient complaining, a time out, walking far, learning new vocabulary such as "crosswalk," leaked out bottle, singing, and peaceful listening to stories on tape (yes, on cassette tape in the car).  Perhaps because of the busy nature of the morning, it didn't dawn on me until this afternoon that today, my son is 9 months old.

Tonight, it hit me that Micah is 9 months old.

And what that means.

Nine months.

Generally speaking, a healthy pregnancy lasts 9 months.  Lindsey had a healthy pregnancy as she carried Micah...for nearly 9 months.  During that time she cared for him, made sure he was safe and healthy, did all she could to protect this little baby boy so that he could have the best start in life, with us.  Can you imagine? Can you even imagine?  And during that time, she also felt him move, learned his patterns, and felt his spirit...all the time.

I remember when Samantha was 9 months old thinking, "Well, she's now been here longer than I was pregnant with her."  It's not that big of a deal, but for some reason, it struck me.  And so, with Callie, since I wasn't pregnant with her, it was different.  I had the same realization with her that I have with Micah tonight.

From this day on, this little child who is so lovingly ours, has been with us longer than he was with his birth mother.  

And the sense of responsibility sinks in deeper.
Wanting to make both Callie's and Micah's birth mother's proud.
Praying to teach them to choose the right path.
Trying to model what love is and how they can find it for themselves one day...in friendships, dating, and marriage.
Hoping to make sure that their sense of identity isn't just about being a Green, but being a child of God...a child who is unconditionally loved and accepted for their innate divinity.
Recommitting to be there, 120%...to be present and prepared for those talks that just spontaneously start, but that change the course of their life.

The 9 month mark for both Callie and Micah leave me filled with thoughts and new goals about how to be better.  Ask any mother out there...birth mother, adoptive mother...I believe ANY mother will say the same.  Nine months really changes a person.  I know it's has changed me for the better.


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