The Problem

About six weeks ago, I had a medical problem arise (details omitted out of embarrassment) that would not fix itself and I could not do what was necessary to give it time to heal because I was sick from my intestines all the time. And I mean ALL the time. I could not eat ANYTHING. It got to the point that I was afraid to eat. PERIOD. My BFF and I devised a plan that omitted gluten from my diet and decided to implement it immediately.

And it worked. Right away.

I went from being sick 8-10 times a day to 0. After almost three weeks of this new "diet," I went to the gi doc and he ran some tests. He told me he was pretty sure I had celiac sprue, but also thought the test would come back negative for it since I had not eaten gluten in three weeks.

He was right; it did. So he put me back on a gluten diet. Uhhhhh. That has been just miserable. Living G-free for a month and then being told you have to go back on it? No, thanks. It just seems stupid to purposely make yourself sick just to have a test come back positive. He repeated the blood tests today to see if maybe I have eaten enough for it to come back positive, so we'll see.

I get to have a super-duper fun EGD and colonoscopy next Tuesday to make sure there's not something else that we're missing. Can't wait for that one!

Lessons In Life

We took a trip to Santa Fe the second week of February for a family ski trip- and Miss Sydney LOVED it! She thought it was the best thing ever! She kept asking if we could go back again tomorrow. She skied two days in the ski school with a private instructor and just got better and better. If I ever figure out how to post video on here, I will upload some of the video of her first time skiing. She is just about the cutest thing ever.

The boys went to the childcare on the mountain called Chipmunk Corner and had a marvelous time. They had some of their favorite toys and they could watch Sydney through the window whenever they wanted. Tony and I got to ski while they were well taken care of on the mountain. I took a lesson which went quite well, until I got really tired and stopped being able to turn my legs. I am really out of shape. I think this was the start of a beautiful family tradition of yearly family ski trips. I just am not sure mommy has to participate in the ski part of the trip. There are a number of lovely day spas and shopping around all of these ski towns...

The day after we got back I had my tummy tuck. It went quite well and I am now on week four of restrictive duty regarding any lifting and I am about to go crazy. I cannot pick up the boys. Period. If I do, I risk a hernia and another surgery to repair said hernia and I go back to square one on the six weeks of restrictive duty. I am about to go out of my mind. I feel completely handcuffed. Tony has been traveling a lot lately and I have been relying heavily on my BFF, Jen, and the nannies, to help me out. And she totally has. I could not have made it through this without her. My mom flew out this weekend to help me which was great, but she flew back thinking Tony was flying the opposite way, but his plane is still in Dallas as I write this (maintenance, way to go AA!) and he will not be home until at least seven hours after he was supposed to be home. No big deal, right? but this is his sixth trip in the last month and we still have one more next weekend. I am so ready for him to be home. I do not know how people do it when one spouse travels for their job. I am so thankful mine does not. I will be so glad when his last trip is over in April. And my restrictive duty should be lifted by then as well. I am glad I had my surgery, but in hindsight, the timing probably could have been coordinated a little better with Tony's travel schedule right now. Oh well.

Oh. And I got diagnosed with Celiac disease during this time, as well. So add to all of this a brand new gluten free diet. More about all of that in my next post.

I have sat in front of the computer to begin this post at least three dozen times in the last year. And each time, I have been unable to do it.

Even now as I sit at the computer, I wrote last night's post first and then attempted to begin this one yet again because it was so much easier to write about the crazy lady at Walmart than the one I need to write. The one that is always on my heart and in my throat.

But I need to get this one out. It is literally eating me alive inside. Sometimes so much so to the point that it paralyzes me at night when I am lying in bed.

I guess the quickest way to show you all where I'm at is to tell you what happened at the Discovery Center on Saturday.

I took the kids there to play in Tiny Town and it was fairly empty, really nice and quiet. We were having a great time and Sydney was playing with another little girl and I started chatting with her mom about hair products for the girls' curly hair. Really pleasant conversation. Then she asked me if we had just the three children, and I immediately replied, yes just the three. But, then something inside my just snapped or broke or gave way or something.

And I said, very quietly, no. That's not true. We have four. We just lost one of them.

And then I totally and completely just lost it. Right there in the middle of Tiny Town. Right in front of a complete stranger. She said she was sorry. We tried to pretend like I hadn't just lost it and she left soon thereafter.

Well, that's it. In a nutshell. I have four children. I have four children. But I only have three of them. And I am not okay with it.

I am happy and grateful and love each and every one of them dearly. I love Sydney. I love Jonathan. I love Brock. I love Braden.

But it seems like no one remembers Jonathan. I do. Oh, how I do.

God gave me a gift before Jonathan died that I treasure and cherish. He allowed me to meet Jonathan in a dream the night before I lost him. Some of you may remember the dream, some may not, I will retell it here anyway because it does my heart good to recount it every chance I get.

My husband and I were in an orphanage looking at the children. Across the room I saw a little boy I knew immediately to be our son. We went over to him and saw that he had three arms. I remember thinking to myself, it's a good thing I am learning how to sew so I can make clothes for him. I was so pleased I could meet my son's needs! I asked him how old he was and he held up seven fingers on two of his hands. We smiled at each other and God blessed me with experiencing the love of my son. I delighted in his presence. Then he held up his other hand and waved to me saying, "Goodbye, Mommy." My eyes filled with tears and I woke up. Tears were streaming down my face and I quickly awoke Tony to share this dream with him.

It was just minutes later that I began to miscarry.

And I still do treasure that dream, even now. But it has begun to be a bit of a double edged sword now. The very part of it that comforted me for so long- the smile, the wave, and the bye mommy- Jonathan's brothers have started to do that very thing two dozen times a day. And I see Jonathan's face and I hear his voice each and every time. And it hurts so very much. And I know, and hope, that one day this could be a good thing, a comforting thing, but right now, it is just painful because it is all I have had of Jonathan. And I have been clinging to it like a lifeline to him because he is my son and I don't want to let go of him. I can't. I have so many wonderful things to share with Brock and Braden and Sydney. So many, many wonderful things that I love to cherish and treasure about them. When I see them wave to me and say bye-bye mama, of course I love it, but it hurts because it brings back the only memory I have of Jonathan. The one that I have comforted my heart and soul with in the dark of night. And that I'll never have anything more than that with him this side of Heaven.

Tony said, maybe it's God's way of showing me Jonathan through his brothers. I think he's probably right, but it still hurts so very much. Because there is only one thing I really want.

I want another dream.

More than anything else in the whole wide world. I want another dream with Jonathan. Just one more dream. I lay in bed at night with a softball in my throat begging God, pleading with Him to grant me just one more minute, no five more minutes with my son. Please. Please. PLEASE. Just five more minutes. PLEASE I need to see him just one more time. I need to see his face-hear his voice. Just linger in his presence. It was magnificent. Just magnificent.

Does Walmart Really Need Door Greeters?

Had a little run-in with the door "greeter" at the Walmart today.

It did not end well for her.

When you have three children under the age of four, going to any store solo is always a monumental task. Today was no exception. A few stores, Walmart, Target, Sams, make it a little easier with a limited number of kid-friendly carts that allow an industrious and brave shopper with multiple children to place all of them in the same cart with seat belts instead of simply piling them all in the basket of the cart willy-nilly and hoping for the best.

Now when I say limited number, I mean limited number. Today was an exception. There happened to be an abundance of said carts in the cart line today much to my delight.

There was already one happy shopper piling her children into the first cart, so I carried my double-arm load of children (yes, I carry them both) to the second waiting cart. After much strap adjusting and balancing of children, we are finally ready to set off on our third banana run of the week (sixteen bananas since Thursday!!!). We began to pull out around the infant seat cart parked directly in front of us-when it started.

"Excuse me. You'll have to take this cart in the front of the line.

What?

There is now a new cart in the front of the line and you'll have to take it.

Ummmmmm. I don't think so.

Yes. You have to. Because it is the one in front and you can't take one in the back."

Okay, is this lady seriously deluded? She must be. I know she just watched me balance two screaming, squirming one- year old toddlers between both knees and arms and hands as I deftly buckled them in and adjusted the straps for the five minutes prior to her "proclamation" that I "must" move my children to the cart in the front because she, "the door greeter," said I had to? She had to be out of her mind! I was not about to take any guff from someone, who by the very definition of her job title, was supposed to greet me when I came to her place of work to spend obscene amounts of money (just ask my husband, he'll back that up).

"There is no way I am taking my children out of this cart and moving them to that cart. If you want me to change carts, you are going to have to move them yourself.

We're going to get a manager over here."

And with that, I simply drove around the other carts and her and went on about my shopping trip thinking, this is ridiculous. And I left it at that.

The "Door Nazi" had other ideas.

By the time I made it to my first stop, the cereal aisle, she had caught up with me. She stalked me through the Walmart. OVER A CART! She proceeded to tell me exactly why she was enforcing her ridiculous "rules" and why she wanted to make an example of me. I told her, look I am sorry for your problem, but I have two babies who need naps, one of which whose head you are squishing by getting in my face (she totally was and she didn't even notice that he was screaming-she did apologize) and I don't have time to be your example today because I just need to get a few things and put my babies down for their naps.

During this little exchange a department manager noticed the heated discussion and called a store manager over and then I had to explain to her what went down between me and the door "greeter." The greeter had already left by the time the manager arrived so I got to explain everything. She assured me that I could feel free to take any cart I liked and she would have a "talk" with said greeter. Poor Brock and Braden were so done by the time we left Walmart they were in complete meltdown mode.

I was afraid to go back through the exit because I didn't want to run into the door nazi again. Luckily, we passed through without incident because she wasn't anywhere to be seen. Now I am nervous about the next time we go to Walmart. Man, if only our Target had groceries...

Pictures At One

Sydney at age one

Daddy at age one

Mommy at age one

Mommy at age one

Daddy at age one

And last, but not least,

Braden and Brock at one!

Can you guess which is which?

I'll put the answer in the comment section...

Did you guess right? Even we couldn't tell them apart when we were looking at the photos after the shoot today! We are starting to think they are identical more and more every day!

Until She's Home

Our application for adoption was accepted by our agency last week and we will turn our signed contracts in tomorrow. I am not sure what the next step(s) after that will be, most likely the home study. But, as we have done all of this before, I feel this will all be somewhat fast tracked similar to a review or a "freshening" of what we did before. Since we have added to more children to the family since the home study was done, I am sure some of it will need to be redone. The home our social worker "studied" is now a little different than it was two years ago.

Now that we have finally started the process, I am anxious to get the ball rolling. I know it is going to take a long time, but I feel the need to "do something." Even if only to get "it" going. I know how much paperwork there is. I know how long the road is. I am just ready to start the journey. My daughter, our daughter, is out there somewhere just waiting for us to come get her and bring her home. I lay awake at night just wondering where she is and who is holding her. Who is feeding her. Who is singing to her. Is anyone picking her up and cuddling her when she cries? These are the thoughts that keep me awake long past the time that I should be sleeping. I know I can't allow these thoughts free reign in my mind for the next three years because they will absolutely take over, but they are there just the same. I don't know why God placed this unquenchable desire in my heart or this undeniable knowledge that we have a daughter somewhere in another country that we have to bring home, but we do. And I cannot, will not, stop until she is here with her family at home where she belongs. And if I have sleepless nights along the way, then that is part of the journey for me. Until she's home.

The Line in the Sand

The lovely dinner I labored over today died a quick death after a mere three minutes in my newly "fixed" oven. And so the war rages on. I texted my oven guy at home after this latest assault in my kitchen and told him about my line in the sand. He said he'd call his guy and they'd see what they could do. I'll tell them what they can do...

In other news, Brock has a new word, "No." Well, technically, it's no, no, no with a little giggle. Because he thinks it's really funny. This from the kid who will lay prostrate on the ground if you even come one decibel too close to a harsh sound with the word 'no.' He is so incredibly sensitive. But for whatever reason if you say no, no, no in a sing song voice he thinks it's just hilarious and will copy you immediately. I found this out when he discovered he could stand up in the back of the double stroller yesterday and I didn't want to scare him with the sharp 'no' so I used the sweet one and he thought it was too funny. I will try to video it in the near future and then try to figure out how to get a video on blogger again. I am so blogger illiterate it's not even funny. I tried to post those pictures from yesterday again today and still not working. And I really can post pictures when it is working. It's just not right to have things not working for someone who already has a tough time figuring things out in the first place. It's just plain mean.