Stewart

About 3 weeks ago, our dog Stewart St. George, of potty training fame, all of the sudden looked like he was pregnant. And his backbone started to be really prominent. And our chunky, muscular dog turned in to skin and bones over a weekend. We took him to the vet who said his abdomen was full of fluid but he didn't know why. And he sent us to a vet two and a half hours away. That vet told us that poor Stew had an extraordinarily aggressive form of cancer that metastasizes almost instantly because it is located inside the heart. We were told he had, at most, two weeks. We wanted his end to come naturally if he wasn't in too much pain, but after a week of watching him try to breath through all of that fluid, we knew we weren't being kind to him.
We had to put Stew to sleep, which was hard for a lot of reasons. It was hard because we didn't know what to tell the kids. It was hard because we felt like we need to tell the kids the truth and give them a chance to say goodbye, but we didn't want them to feel like we had let someone hurt part of our family. It was hard because we love Stew. We had him long before we had kids. It was hard because his life was his own, and I felt like it was a little wrong to take it from him when he was struggling so hard to live it. 
I was really worried about how the kids would handle things. Hana is terrified of death and has experienced more of it than any small child should. Meron really loves her puppies. I will never forget the terror and pain on her face when Stewie ran past her out the front door and down the street (you know, because he had to say hello and I love you to everyone within a five mile radius). She screamed, "My Tewie! He's gonna get hurt! Help him mama!" I couldn't imagine what it would be like when we had to tell her that he was hurt and we couldn't help him.  And Kai, well, Kai's got lots of big feelings. And he isn't great at handling them.
We talked to the kids about our dilemma, that Stewie was very sick and that we couldn't help him to get better, even though we had tried. We said that he was hurting a lot and that he would start to hurt more and more but that there was a way the vet could help him to die without it hurting. Instead of the tears and pleas for an alternative that I was expecting, Hana and Meron immediately said that euthanasia was the right thing to do, because we didn't want Stewie to be hurting as he was dying. I couldn't believe how quickly that mature decision was made by our 5 and 6 year old after Nathan and I had agonized over it for a week.

The kids wrote him a letter to take with him after they said goodbye. They said they loved him and that they would miss him wiggling and kissing them and that he was a really good dog. We thanked him for loving us so much. And we all hugged him goodbye.
Not gonna lie... things are hard right now. The two losses we've had in such a small amount of time have Nathan and I reeling and scraping the bottom of the barrel to try to give the kids the extra that they need and sometimes there just isn't enough. All I keep thinking about is that the horrible conversation that we had to have with our vet about how our beloved Stew was sick and there was no way to help him? Some people have to have that conversation with their doctor. Or, much worse, their child's doctor. And then, my foggy vision clears a little, and things really don't look so bad. We are are all healthy and our needs are met. We love each other and we are a family. We are terribly lucky. But still pretty darn sad.

Swirling

I haven't blogged for a while... anybody still here to notice?  I have started about 50 posts, all of them cheerful and talking about Christmas.  We had fun... 

But I am having a hard time coming up with a cheerful post because, well, it feels like not being honest.  My thoughts are all swirling around one thing... an elephant that is only in my room. You can't see it, but it is huge. So, since I can't write without talking about it, I decided to talk about it.

Remember when I wrote this post about how content I am with my three Ethiopian kids?  Well, it was true. But what I didn't know was that when I wrote that blog post I was three weeks pregnant. Yup. So... that was pretty cool. I took a test at the urging of my husband (he didn't like how I was nauseous for a week and a half and crying all of the time). I told him it would be negative. I was wrong. 

I have been pregnant before. I loved it. It didn't end well. The first time I had what is called a missed miscarriage. The second time it was ectopic and my Fallopian tube ruptured, necessitating emergency surgery. So I was cautious. I didn't really tell anyone if I could help it. My mom knew, because I needed someone to be soothing. My office mate, Dixie, knew because I all of the sudden stopped eating anything except for crackers and I was falling asleep while typing. She kind of guessed. I didn't really tell anyone else, because I know from experience that 'untelling' people really sucks. There are all the sad, pitying looks when they think you aren't looking. And people who want to know all of the details even though you can't talk about them without crying. And the people who don't say anything and pretend everything is fine, which may be worse. I can't blame people... who knows what to say when shitty things happen? I sure don't. But it is awkward and painful. I didn't want the pity because it tasted so very bitter. 

I knew I was pregnant for a week. Long enough to call the doctor and beg for the earliest possible appointment. Long enough to get a blood test done, which showed great hormones for being about 6 weeks pregnant. And then I got excited. Nathan and I started cautiously talking about names and how we would tell the kids. Who'd have a hard time and how we would help them out. And then, on a cold Sunday morning in the middle of December, I woke up with pain. Not just a little, a lot. Nathan was at the gym working out and I told him he needed to come home because I was scared it was happening again. I was right. I passed out in the bathroom trying to get dressed. We woke up the kids and drove to the hospital 40 miles away. I passed out twice on the way.  I made it as far as the emergency room check in before I couldn't really function anymore. I got an ultra sound that, let me tell you, is extraordinarily painful when one is hemorrhaging   A ssympathetic, middle aged lady told me that my uterus was empty and that I had a massive amount of blood in my abdomen. The took me to the OR and I woke up to see blood slowly dripping into my hand through my IV. No baby, no more Fallopian tubes. 

At first I was too close to being in shock to be sad. Just in a lot of pain.  Then I had the disconcerting experience of all of the pregnancy hormones vacating the premises at once, leaving me a weeping, shaking pile of craziness sitting on the couch.  And now here I am.  Thoughts swirling so fast that I can barely see through them for long enough to concentrate on anything else. Another loss. A baby... with a heartbeat and developing beautifully, I am told, but in the wrong place.  Another little person missing from our lives. 

I am okay now... although I really, really wasn't for a while.   I am tired of feeling feeble, but I still have super low hemoglobin and I am out of breath after walking up a flight of stairs or from my office to my mailbox.  I need a nap after about 5 hours of being awake or I can't function. But I am getting better all the time. I had good medical care and survived. I have three beautiful children.  I have a family that loves me. That doesn't diminish the feeling of loss, but it does make it much more bearable. I do desperately want another baby, but we live in a world of many options. My doctor is recommending that I do IVF. I am undecided, but thinking about it. I recognize that the fact that I know (after a few years of saving up money) that I have that option, is a tremendous thing. I am very blessed.  And very sad. And that, my friends, is an elephant.

A Christmas Gift Idea

For the last three years I have been giving crappy presents for Christmas. Well, maybe not crappy. Well thought out but probably not very fun. When I say well thought out, I really mean it. It is hard to choose. Every year I stare at the computer screen, making impossible choices as to where to send my money in honor of my loved ones while tears stream down my cheeks because of the overwhelming amount of need and at the frustration of being one of the people who send money instead of one of the people making things happen. At the incredible injustice of the world. I use the Global Giving website. There are thousands of grassroots projects requesting money in almost every country in the world. How do you choose?

Combat Malnutrition in Kenya with the Moringa Tree?
Moringa trees are rich in vitamins A, C, calcium, iron & potassium; higher in protein than soybean meal; drought resistant, add nitrogen to soil; anti-bacterial; used for household water purification; a source of edible oil, bio fuel & cattle feed. Trees purchased fund education for EYAC members. Planted at orphanages & schools, the trees provide a sustainable solution for malnutrition. Training women in business and product development will provide empowering income-generating opportunities. Fantastic idea, right?

Empower Marginalized Young Women in Ghana?
In our holistic school-based program, marginalized women turned apprentices develop their seamstress skills to transform hand-dyed fabric and up-cycled plastic sachets into handmade bags, wallets and aprons simultaneously taking classes. They receive the tools necessary to practice a trade, make a living and become self-reliant leaders of their communities. Each girl graduates from ABAN with over $200 USD and the skills to use it wisely to provide herself and her child with a brighter future.  Sounds great!

Puppets Against Abuse in Kinshasa?
The work of Puppeteers Without Borders (PWB) is to give local educators, artists and puppeteers the tools to address the specific problems of the Kinshasa society by training them to create strong, compelling performances which can encourage new understandings and behavioural change. At the same time our puppeteers will train local social workers to use puppets as a therapeutic tool to help the outcast children overcome the effects of their traumas, that are a result of being accused of sorcery.   I didn't know this was a thing... but I do know that for children, play therapy can be life saving.

Rescue Children Suffering from Severe Malnutrition in Nepal?
Through an innovative program of nutritional therapy using only locally produced ingredients, NYF has helped save thousands of children afflicted with malnutrition. While the children are recovering their health, NYF nutritionists teach the mothers safe nutritional practices and proper food preparation. This not only ensures that the children stay healthy once they leave the NRH, the entire family's nutrition benefits from the mother's training.  They say that 50% of children in Nepal suffer from malnutrition and that most of that malnutrition is caused by not understanding proper nutrition, not poverty.


Simple Surgery to Restore Eyesight in Ehthiopia?
In particularly remote areas of the Gamo Gofa region, there are currently little or no eye care facilities, yet a simple surgery is the sight-saving answer for thousands of affected Ethiopians. With effective surgery, someone's suffering could be over in a matter of hours. This could change so many lives!



Stop South Sudanese Mothers from Dying in Childbirth
Our Onura Maternal Survival Project will pay for sterile medical supplies; a childbirth delivery bed; and training for midwives on handling delivery complications and providing prenatal and postnatal care, newborn care, and family planning services.  Did you know that in some parts of Africa, a woman has a 1 in 12 chance of dying in childbirth during her life time? 1 in 12!

See what I mean? Thousands of well thought out, worthy causes. Thousands of people who's lives could be made infinitely better. But who should be chosen? And, who should be left behind?   So.. if you are scrambling for last minute gifts or can't find the right thing for those people in your lives who have everything, give it a look.  Cover some of those that I don't choose. Just pick two people and replace their gifts with gifts in their honor from a worthy cause. I don't have a big following (Hey you 19 awesome people!) but even if just the 19 people who have followed my blog picked two charities to give to, that would be 38 organizations.  That's a LOT more than I can do on my own. And, every time I write a new post I get about 200 hits. I know most of these are my mom (Hi mama!) but lets say 100 are from other people. That's 200 organizations that could get money. Cool, right? Just consider it. And maybe pass the word...

Thoughts...

My fingers ache. They are as wrinkled as prunes and smell like conditioner. After two heads full of tiny corn rows my eyes are starting to cross. I was never good at braids. I am not good at doing my own hair. I am getting a handle on theirs.
I think as I braid, my hands falling into a now familiar rhythm, fingers moving on their own.  I think about how I pictured my life. I think of the children I pictured when I was pregnant. Little girls with long smooth hair and freckles.  Chubby pink cheeks. Eyes like my mom's and the Loy lips to go along with them. The Norwegian bone structure from my father peeking out through the baby roundness.  I wonder what my life would have been like. Who they would have been. Who I would have been if things had gone according to plan and if things had not gone wrong around 12 weeks. And then the next time around 6 weeks.  Do I still grieve for them? For the me I could have been, still trusting that really bad things won't happen? Maybe.  Sometimes I think of those little girls and long for them.
Then I look down at the straight rows emerging from my fingertips.  I see the dark ringlets run riot in the next section to be braided. I feel a small pat on my foot from my first and now middle daughter. I hear the laughter coming from upstairs as my eldest and youngest race to see who can get their pajamas on first, and smile as I hear their feet thunder down the stairs. My life is different than I thought it would be. My children are not who I envisioned when I was picturing my future. But they are mine. And they are perfect. And when I look at them, I see my children... not who I was anticipating, but better than I ever could have imagined. And for that, I am oh so thankful.

My Mimi-girl

I mentioned it in the last post, but I need to talk a little bit about this. My sweet baby? My little tiny, newborn clothes at 11 months Mimi?  She's 5. Yeah. I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. I was in denial up until the day of her birthday am in denial. How can she be so big? How can that tiny baby be this vibrant, smart, stubborn, mischievous, gentle, tender hearted, sensitive... kid? It breaks my heart on a daily basis. She is so beautiful. So tall and graceful. She has those incredible eyes that still catch me by surprise sometimes. She has a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue... she is a force of nature.  Meron has a tough exterior that belies the soft, tender, easily crushed center. Her first response to anger? To do whatever it was again while giggling manically.  I'm not sure if she is saving face or trying to do it until we laugh, but we have learned that with her, anger is never productive (which can be difficult when she is doing something she has been asked not to while giggling manically).  Things with Mer... they are on her terms.
We frequently talk about what kind of animals our kids would be if they were animals (things get boring once the kids are asleep...). Hana is an egret (long legged and awkward in situations that make her uncomfortable but magic in her element) or sometimes a dog (super eager to please and sensitive to criticism). Kai is a bear cub (super cute and cuddly but is generally falling down or rolling around on the floor at any given time) or a rhino, charging ahead through life headless of obstacles. Meron, she is always a cat. Aloof if you demand affection. Graceful and agile, incredibly cuddly and affectionate when and with whom she chooses. Gentle and nurturing to littler kids, with wicked claws and fangs that appear from nowhere when provoked. Earn her love and you will be richly rewarded, because she loves deeply.  Her penchant for dancing on tables and her aversion to clothing makes me a little afraid for her college years, but wherever she goes in life I am confident she will do things on her terms. In her way. And she'll be great. But, I don't want her to go.

I have already lost baby Mimi, toddler Mimi and 3 and 4 year old Mimi. Preschool Mimi will be gone soon, replaced by Kindergarten Meron. And what, exactly, am I going to do without her? When she gets too big to sit on my lap or carry on my hip? When she wants to go to hang out with friends instead of thinking that the perfect day means hanging out with her entire extended family? When she moves out and goes to college?!  I think she'll move closer to me again when she has babies though, because if they're anything like her she's going to need LOTS of help and she says she wants to have 20 kids, but STILL!  I know, people survive this sort of thing. Kids are supposed to leave, so exciting to watch who they become, blah blah blah. I get it. I'll be excited to get to know the older versions of her, but this one is just so dang delicious. I just want to freeze time and keep her all to myself.  Anybody an inventor? I have a proposition for you...