Father-Sons Campout...

Steve has always claimed that I'm the master of manipulation. And although I've spent years denying the claim...I fully understand it might be in the realm of possibility, especially after last weekend.

Our ward announced they were gearing up for the father-sons campout. Immediately, I started putting it in Steve's head that he needed to take Bennett (2 years old) as well as Hunter (four years old). I knew Hunter was a for sure bet since he'd gone before but Bennett was new territory. Steve completely shot down my idea, there was no way he was taking a baby! But I didn't let up and I would casually mention it in conversations and Steve would just shake his head. This went on for two weeks. I described to Steve the awesome girls weekend Hallie and were going to have and he reminded me it would be hard since I would have Bennett with me. I fully believed Bennett would be with me. Not for a second did I actually think he would take him.

Just two days before, Steve told someone that he was taking Bennett and I had to act like that was the plan all along, but really I was shocked he agreed to take him. Once I had manipulated the situation to what I wanted I started to back pedal. Camping is dangerous and I know there's not a whole lot of supervision that goes on at these things. Bennett would surely end up with a missing limb or fall in the fire. He came down with a fever the day before and I thought for sure that sealed my fate. I kindly agreed to keep him home with me, but Steve offered to have him go (as long as he wasn't fevered). When Steve says "jump", I say, "how high". I packed his bags the next morning and sent all three boys on their merry camping way (praying and hoping there would be enough people that Bennett would be somewhat supervised!).

Hallie and I enjoyed a night together and it was awesome. She's at an age where she can carry on a conversation and she's got a sense of humor which keeps me on my toes. We had a fantastic sleepover and wished over and over again we could have more nights like that.

Steve returned home the next day at noon with both kids; free from any injuries. A miracle. It was hard to tell they were my children because a layer of dirt caked their bodies. Head to toe. Their clothes and shoes were disgusting but they had the best stories to tell.

The climbed mountains:

They ate doughnuts (who knows how many this kids threw down?!):

They played in the dirt:

They had a marshmallow fight and played with friends: (notice just how dirty those hands are as they are eating watermelon - camping clearly has a no-wash policy; makes a mother cringe)

If dirt is any indication - the trip was a success. If this was Steve's journal, he would include just how difficult Bennett was and how he was the youngest by a whole year. He definitely earned father of the year.

Thanks to whoever had the idea of having a camping trip on Mother's Day weekend - I hope this is a tradition we can carry on!

Hirschsprung's Disease...

Continued from yesterday...

I sat in the waiting area totally calm. I figured there had to be some medication to help her and we would get it and be on our way. We talked with the doctor for 20 minutes and at the end of the conversation he named two conditions that could be the cause of all our suffering. He quickly did a test and ruled out one of the conditions. The test for hirschsprung's disease was slightly more invasive. He knew we were from out of town and he assured me we could get right in. They directed us down to lower level of the hospital and sedated Hallie for the test. The nerves started to set in - what kind of test requires a 4 1/2-month-old to be sedated?? They didn't give too many details about the test before and it was probably a good thing. Once I learned what they do to test I felt so bad for our little girl. They sent us on our way and told us they would give us a call in a couple days to give the test results.

The first thing I did when I returned to my parents house was search the internet for hirschsprung's disease. Although this was very informational, it was a bad idea as I read about all the complications that arise from the disease and some of the treatment courses. Generally speaking, people with this disease are missing the ganglion cells in the lower segment of their colon which means the colon doesn't contract in that segment to push stool through. This causes extreme pain and blockage where the segment stops working and causes the colon to be distended. And it's genetic. I continued to read webpage after webpage concerning the disease and after two days I thought there is no way our little girl has this and I convinced myself the tests would come back negative. I returned to Rexburg on Sunday and the next day I got a call from the lab. She had tested positive for hirschsprung's and I was informed someone would be giving me a call back from the hospital to schedule her surgery. My mind started feeling cloudy. I had read so much information already, but I didn't really process it because I didn't think she had it (although she had 80% of the symptoms; slowing growth, distended stomach, extreme pain, irregular bowel movements, constant vomiting, straining to poop, I convinced myself there had to be a simpler answer!)

I immediately went back to the internet and did more research. Once again - I wasn't finding a whole lot of positive feedback and it was scary.

The surgeon's office called to set up the surgery and scheduled it for two months away. Oh, how I would've loved to have it sooner, but we needed the two months to prep her colon before doing the surgery. For starters she could have absolutely no food besides breast milk/formula, no starting solids yet. Three times a day, I had to administer an enema and drain her bowel. We had to do this for two months to get her colon back to a somewhat normal size and cleanse it daily. This was a messy and frustrating process. And every day that I wanted to quit, I was reminded of the doctor's counsel; if we could prep the colon sufficiently, we could eliminate the need for a colostomy. I would stand on my head for days on end to avoid a colostomy.

I was amazed at how different our child was just by draining her bowel daily. It's as if the constant pain had been relieved and we would only have problems when she tried to poop (it was still painful.)

That two month waiting period was a state of change for our family. Steve graduated from college. We packed up and sold our home and moved all our belongings to a pod in Milwaukee, WI. We spent time looking for a home in Milwaukee and finally returned to Boise for her surgery.

We arranged to stay in the Ronald McDonald house (an amazing service that I can't praise enough) just across the street from the hospital. We arrived the night before and tried comforting a screaming child who was starving and couldn't have anything but water before her surgery. It was a painful night and we were a ball of nerves. The next morning we checked in and waited for our number to be called. They wheeled her back and we nervously sent her in the care of several loving nurses and a surgeon. We weren't prepared for just how long the surgery would be. After an hour we got a little anxious but calmed our nerves with a game of Settlers of Catan with my parents. Another hour. Another hour. We were more than nervous and finally asked and they informed us they were still in surgery. Another hour passed and even another. Finally the surgeon came in (just like every medical drama) and had nothing but good reports. We asked him a lot of questions and he described the surgery in detail (Soave endorectal pull through procedure) and in one of his answers he talked about taking her appendix out. We were a little surprised and he thought he had mentioned it before - just one less thing we had to worry about later on in life. She was in recovery and doing great.

I can't describe the amount of relief and gratitude that washed over me in that moment. The next few days are a blur. She stayed in the hospital for four days recovering. Hallie came out of surgery looking nothing like herself. She was so swollen and puffy - she did not look like our child and we couldn't hold her for days. Each day we showed up we were relieved to see her a little more like herself and we loved hearing the rave reports from the night nurses. My parents visited often and Steve and I were at the hospital from morning until night. At the end of the day we would walk back to the house and crash and do it all over again. I was informed she would only be able to tolerate breast milk/formula for the next two months and they would really prefer it to be breast milk. So I pumped every feeding for days to keep my milk supply and I was happy as a clown when I could just feed her again! Before long we had been discharged and went on our way. Aside from some rectal stretching (which we had to do for 18 months with rods that increased in size) and a fairly strict diet, she was a normal happy baby. Really, a brand new child to us. I remember the first two days just watching her, waiting for her to start screaming and she never did. My parents and siblings all commented how weird it was to have her so happy. And she was happy and comfortable.

We did several follow up appointments and the surgeon was nothing but positive with all her progress. What a blessing. In all our doctor's appointments I've seen many kids that weren't as lucky or didn't catch it as soon. Hallie's was severe enough that we recognized it when she was four days old, many don't realize it for years and live with a tolerable amount of pain. I can't thank that doctor and surgeon enough for hearing the pleas of an exhausted and depressed mom looking for answers. And although our child's behavior changed immediately with surgery, the effects on me (and Steve) lasted much longer. Some of those effects created scars in both of us. And in all seriousness, at the time I thought one child was all we would have.

I remember running into a friend a couple years after leaving Rexburg (he had been Steve and my boss and witnessed the people we became after our child was born) and he noticed I was pregnant. He laughed and said, "I have to tell you, I honestly didn't think you guys would have any more kids. The last time I saw you, you were not in a good place." And he's totally right. We weren't. It changed us and we grew leaps and bounds from this experience and more than anything I realized we are all granted the strength that we need to handle the situations placed in front of us. Even though we will struggle to get through it, we come out on the other side and better version of ourself.

How we almost ended up having only one child...

Tomorrow marks the 7 year anniversary of the surgery that would change our lives. Let me backtrack...

As brand new parents, we brought Hallie home from the hospital to our small two bedroom condo. My mom stayed with us for the first week to help me figure out how to maneuver an infant. The first night my mom was up all night with her as she cried and fussed and woke me up when she completely soaked herself in spit-up. The next night same story. The third night was no different. What seemed like a typical newborn situation quickly evolved to us asking, "What is wrong with this child." She cried and cried and refused to sleep and continually soaked herself with her own spit up. My mom agreed this was not normal and I was at the doctor's office just days later expressing concern. They did a barium enema to see if there was something wrong in her stomach. It came back clear. My mom prepared to leave and I went into a panic. Steve was a student and worked a lot and I was not ready to take on this screaming child on my own. My mom left one morning and I sat against the door with my crying child and sobbed...for a long time. By the time Steve got home from work he could see the mess I was in and we packed up the car and drove to my parents house where all my family was gathering for a baby blessing. I thought this would help me out.

Instead, I was able to see my brother's baby (just 11 days older than my own) and more than ever I realized there was something wrong with my own child. It made me frustrated and sad all at the same time.

A month later was Thanksgiving and we drove down to Utah to be with Steve's gathering family. They had heard stories of our nightmare child and I'm not sure anyone fully understood just how serious it was. It was hard to hear them say, "well, what you should try is...", "All you need to do is...", "I heard if you do this..." We had tried it all and none of it worked and more than anything we were just exhausted. Black Friday rolled around and all the women were getting up at 5 to go to some stores. I planned on going and Steve was kind enough to take the night shift so I could sleep. But the crying never let up and in those situations, both of us knew it was better to not be alone with the child, we might snap. We were up all night and when my sister-in-law came down to get me to go shopping there's no doubt she saw our exhaustion and realized the night we had had with no sleep. She kindly took a turn with Hallie so we could get some rest. These nights happened constantly.

We returned home and once again saw the doctor. Nothing. Another month passed. More crying, more spit-up, more frustration and more sobbing on my part. I just needed some relief. I can't even count how many nights I was up with her, trying to comfort her the best I could and I ended up on the floor of the bathroom sobbing (fan running and blow dryer running to drown out the sound) while Hallie cried in her bed. Nights like this were a regular occurrence. When Hallie was four months old, I went to visit Steve at work (on campus) and upon arriving, Hallie went into one of her crying fits. I stood just outside the building holding her and rocking back and forth trying to get her to calm down so I could enter the building. I was out there for sometime. Finally, Steve's manager (who had also been my manager when I worked in the same office as a student) heard the crying and came outside. She saw the look in my eyes and gently took Hallie from me (a mother of grown children) and tried to calm her. Her efforts were fruitless. She started asking me a lot of questions (she was nearing her graduation from the nursing program) about Hallie's behavior. I described in detail and she assured me there was something wrong and I needed to see a doctor. But I had countless times and they told me she was fine. Her advice, "When she starts her screaming, go directly to the doctor and ask for an appointment. She will continue to scream in their office and trust me they will get you in quickly. Once you're with a doctor demand to see a specialist."

Sure enough it worked. I saw whatever doctor could squeeze me in and he immediately ordered the same barium enema test that we had done three times before. But this time was different because I demanded a specialist and I was at a breaking point and was more firm than most mothers would ever be. But of course the specialist I needed to see was four hours away either in Salt Lake or Boise - Salt Lake was supposedly the best of the best and there was a three month waiting period or we could see a doctor in Boise in three weeks. Boise won out as there was no chance I could go another three months.

Steve was finishing up his senior year and was unable to accompany me on the 4 hour drive, but fortunately my mom lived close to Boise and was able to join me for the doctor appointment that would change everything...

Feeling pampered...

Mother's day is the one day a year that I can count on not having to change a single diaper. It makes me wish Mother's day was once a month! Now to my husband's credit - He treats many weekends like my special holiday. He's an early bird, and I'm not; which means he lets me sleep in more often than nought. He has mastered cooking weekend breakfast and the kids expect nothing less than dad's specialty, so I'm off the hook for breakfast. And as we sit and talk on the couch he always grabs my foot or leg and gives a massage. So Mother's day rolls around and there's not a whole lot more he can do besides continue to be awesome. And he does just that. To mix things up, we strayed from our typical weekend breakfast as he perfected the crepe - strawberries, bananas and cream = perfection. And to wash it all down, he got up early and squeezed oranges for juice. (we were both pretty shocked to realize the oranges on the tree were still so tasty for juicing!) That is real love right there.

We went to church where Bennett kindly reminded us that he is still in charge and Steve had to walk out with him three times in one hour. Oh how frustrating a toddler can be!

While many women enjoyed their flowers, chocolates, purses and jewelry on Mother's day, I got weak at the knees marveling at this beauty. There have been some years where we eliminated the gift giving of this holiday all together, but when a gift is given, it has been a power tool. I kid not. And I absolutely love it and Steve loves knowing that he gave his wife a power tool! It's a win-win. He knows I will get good use out it and beautify our home in the process. This is a beast of a saw (replacing my old 10" miter that I've had for years) and I'm racking my brain as to what project I should break this bad boy in with!

It was a great day, full of love, pampering and Steve and the kids (aside from Bennett because he cried most of the day for no apparent reason) jumping at the chance to do anything to serve me. It feels good to feel loved. Constantly reminded what a lucky mama I am!

Motherhood...

I can never let this day pass without acknowledging the mother that raised me. The mother that never ceased teaching or loving me despite exhaustion and frustration. The mother that knows just how to comfort me. The mother that sacrificed continuously to ensure my growth and enjoyment. She is an amazing mother. And I'm sure if I asked her, she would describe her mother the same way. And if I called my grandma, she would probably say the same about her mother as well. And it makes me realize these traits describe mothers everywhere in every generation of time.

Now, as a mother of three I more fully understand what being a mother entails. And although I thought I had a good idea from my mother's example, I had no idea just how hard it would actually be. There have been many days where I was done and ready to throw in the towel. It's not easy or nearly as rewarding as blissful minds imagine. But I know what I'm doing is important. These three little humans call me mother and believe I can solve all of their problems. What a responsibility and special gift.

Because the motherhood journey is often overlooked and belittled, I find comfort in those that teach and praise motherhood. The following quotes have touched me in this particular stage of my life and have reminded me of the important mission I'm fulfilling.

"If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys- scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will - to your surprise - miss them profoundly."
--President Thomas S. Monson

You rock a sobbing child without wondering if today’s world is passing you by, because you know you hold tomorrow tightly in your arms.
--Elder Neal A. Maxwell

In speaking of mothers generally, I especially wish to praise and encourage young mothers. The work of a mother is hard, too often unheralded work. . . . Do the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones. . . . Remember, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.
-- Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

Motherhood is more than bearing children, though it is certainly that. It is the essence of who we are as women. It defines our very identity, our divine stature and nature, and the unique traits our Father gave us.
--Sister Sheri Dew

I am impressed by countless mothers who have learned how important it is to focus on the things that can only be done in a particular season of life. If a child lives with parents for 18 or 19 years, that span is only one-fourth of a parent’s life. And the most formative time of all, the early years in a child’s life, represents less than one-tenth of a parent’s normal life. It is crucial to focus on our children for the short time we have them with us and to seek, with the help of the Lord, to teach them all we can before they leave our homes.”
--Elder Russell M. Ballard

Project complete...

Hallie and her two little monkey brothers were jumping on her bed a few months back and although there were no broken heads, we ended up with a broken bed. We decided we were going to teach her a lesson and just build her a brand new beautiful bed...makes sense. This was back in February - yes, it took that long. Not that it was difficult to build, but it took nearly 8 weeks just to decide what I wanted it to look like and get all the measurements right! Within 5 hours I had it built and then it sat (here). It needed to be primed and painted and I couldn't bring myself to do it. So Hallie's mattress has sat on the floor for months. But our weather is starting to warm up and I knew I just needed to paint the silly thing. I could build all day long but priming/painting is my least favorite part of building furniture. If it weren't for that I would build weekly projects. I need to partner with someone that can paint everything for me. Any takers?? I've got a mile long build list with no desire to paint a single thing (oddly enough I don't mind painting bedrooms).

This bed has a tall headboard, low footboard and side rails. More details to come...

I love you because...

I found this on our kitchen counter (and Hallie made sure I saw her message to me). It brought a large smile to my face. Day after day, week after week of little appreciation and acknowledgment from my children - a simple note makes it all worth it all over again!

Stay young...

This little girl and I recently had a date and she reminded me over and over again just how funny she is. We were on the lookout for a special white dress for her (even though she won't be baptized until fall) as well as some lunch. We drove to the area and I read off my phone all the different food options. When I got to Paradise Bakery, she clarified what kind of food they had. Sandwich's and salads and really good cookies. Oddly enough, she chose Paradise, which I was totally in agreement with.

As I'm pulling into the parking lot of Paradise, she sees a Wendy's in the distance. "I changed my mind, I want Wendy's." So I turned around and started driving to Wendy's. On the way to Wendy's we pass a Subway. "I actually really like Subway, let's eat there instead." By this point I pull the car into an empty parking lot. I told her she could eat at any of the places she could see (which was a lot of restaurants) but she had to pick just one. She scans the area and Panda Express catches her eye. She decides that's her final, final decision. I sat in the parking lot just a minute longer to make sure she didn't have eating remorse before we even got any food but she was set on Panda. We sit down with our food and halfway through the meal she starts giggling. I had no idea what struck her as funny but she insisted it wasn't anything. The minute we finish the meal she giggles louder and proclaims, "Okay, the only reason why I chose panda to eat is so I could get the cookie at the end!" Silly girl.

We finished lunch and went to try on some dresses. There was one dress in particular that I found online that Hallie really liked, so we went to the store to try it on. She tried it on and she just sparkled - but it didn't fit her right. I think just the idea of her trying on a dress at a store (not something she's ever done) was exciting and thrilling for her despite what the dress looked like. She insisted that she loved it, but quickly acknowledged that it was a little immodest. I agreed but pointed out there were ways to make it modest. I didn't love it and I could tell as she was fidgety in it that she didn't love it either, but really loved the idea of it. She changed back into her clothes and we left the store empty handed. As we made it to the car in her most dramatic I'm-almost-a-teenager voice she said, "Uhhh...this is like the worst nightmare ever." Yes, she was referring to the first dress she tried on - months before she needs it - that didn't fit. Although she was laughing when she said it, I got a glimpse of prom dress shopping years from now and it sent chills up my spine!

Oh please young child, stay young. Keep choosing a restaurant for the fortune cookie at the end.