I closed Part 3 by saying we were done with treatments but promised our specialist we would come in for a final closing visit. At that appointment in the summer of 2008, he suggested I undergo a procedure that would look more closely for endometriosis than the ultrasounds had before (there was no indication in my ultrasound over a year ago that I had anything to worry about). This would require anaesthesia, but it would be an outpatient procedure so I could return home that evening. He said that was the only thing left he could think to try since we'd undergone all the other testing. I was hesitant, I mean we had already decided we were done, why would I want to take the risk of being under general anesthesia? Bray and I talked about it, and finally agreed to do this one LAST thing. I scheduled it for the end of October because I wanted to travel with Bray to Nashville for my 10 year law school reunion first.
All our families knew was that we had not been successful with fertility treatments and we'd decided to stop them. I really did not want to tell anyone about the procedure, but at the last minute I told my mom just in case something happened. On the morning of October 29th, Bray drove me to the hospital for the early morning preparations. I remember telling him that once they were in there, Dr. C might call him and ask for permission to cut me open if they found something (they were only doing two small laser inserts on either side of my uterus, no cutting). I told him that he could agree to anything they asked for except removing my uterus - I did not want him holding the weight of that decision should it come to that. This was very unexpected information for him, he didn't realize the procedure could turn into more, but Dr. C forewarned us that morning "just in case."
Instead of waking up an hour later, I woke up several hours later in post-op recovery. Bray and my mom were there. Apparently, shortly after the procedure began, a nurse came in with a telephone and called Bray's name. Dr. C was on the other line and informed him they had found a tumor in the wall of my uterus and he needed permission to cut me open so he could cut the tumor out. Needless to say (from all accounts I hear - obviously I wasn't there), Bray was very upset and called his mom to update her on what was unfolding. Who wants to hear two years into your marriage that your spouse has a tumor?
So Bray began telling me, in my groggy state, what had happened. "They found endometriosis, but they also found a tumor. They had to cut you open to get it out. The doctor believes it's benign but has sent it off to the lab. You'll have to stay in the hospital a few days to recover...." Something along those lines, I still can't remember much of that day.
In the midst of all the pain as the day wore on, I do remember this. I remember having the most amazingly supportive loving husband in the room with me, sleeping on the hospital couch next to my bed that night. And I remember Dr. C walking into my hospital room that afternoon to check on me and give me a full report: (1) The tumor was benign, (2) Had I gotten pregnant with the previous IVF attempts, the tumor would have grown rapidly because of the hormones and would have caused me to miscarry, (3) There was widespread endometriosis, they had been able to remove it all, (4) We're going to do everything we can now to make sure you have a little pumpkin next Halloween.
I would have lost the baby. We don't always know why God does what He does, but He knows best. How much worse would my heartache have been had we gone through all that and then had one or two or more miscarriages? I have people close to me that have endured that heartache, and I don't know why I was spared, but I do thank God every day that I was. So I began to heal. And we began to discuss whether we might try one more time.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
On the Lam
They're out! Or at least the eldest is. I thought I wouldn't have to worry about them sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night until they were 16, but apparently I have to start worrying at 18 months. Last week, he unlocked the door (lock on the knob), turned it, and proceeded to start walking out onto our driveway! Mere days later, he learned how to crawl out of his crib! Thus, logic would suggest that one of my 18 month old triplets can now escape from his crib, unlock the door and walk outside. I'm waiting for him to figure out how to reach the keys hanging near the door and go hot-rodding in the middle of the night.
Alas, the other two will be following in his evil genius footsteps in mere days because once one of them does something, the other two quickly learn to follow suit. My quick-witted nanny has turned the cribs around so the back is in front (and the back side of the crib is much higher than the front) which has temporarily stopped his stealthy escape. We've also dead bolted the doors & purchased a gate for their nursery. However, I know I'm in a losing battle. It's only a matter of time before he scales the higher crib side, which will have given him the tools to then scale the nursery door gate, and then use his monkey long arms to reach up and unlock the deadbolt. He's a madman. The cutest darn madman you've ever seen, mind you, but a madman none the less. If you live in West Houston, I'd be on the look out for a roving adorable toddler - here's his mug shot, call me if you see him :)
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Earthly Easter Exhaustion v. Heavenly Hallelujahs
I realize that as Christians, any blog post on Easter should be joyous and at the height of spirituality. You feel like you're slacking as a Christian if every line isn't Hallelujah. Now don't get me wrong, this is an amazing day for believers. I went to two church services this morning and was able to greet fellow celebrants with "He is Risen," "He is Risen Indeed!" I love that. But Easter is also quite the popular holiday here on Earth unrelated to Christianity. And for anyone with young children and family nearby, holidays can zap it RIGHT out of you. Your "Hallelu" turns into "Whew!"
I knew in advance it would be a rocky day because in addition to hosting 18 people for Easter lunch we had sick kids. So even though it was fabulous to get a date night out with my husband last night, the late night combined with middle-of-the-night fevered children left me exhausted for my 6 am wake up call. The plan was for me to attend one church service solo at 8 am at my regular church and then attend another church service at the Vincent family church at 9:30 am with the whole family (mine plus in laws). Because of the sick kids, we skipped the nursery and attempted three 18 month-olds at the high holy day, standing room only, service. Needless to say, I was thrilled I'd already been to one service because I didn't see much of the second.
Then fast forward to post church mayhem - absence of a long enough nap, lack of interest in meals, generally feeling crummy and teething, and a house teeming with adults and children (ages 5 months to 70). The nuttiness that is my normal life is nothing compared with a busting-at-the-seams house complete with hyper kiddos and tossed away schedules. My trio was in tears most of the entire day and simultaneously acting like Velcro to my (and ONLY my) leg. I KNEW that they were overwhelmed and not feeling well, but it was still all I could do not to scream at them to give me FIVE minutes of peace. I literally walked away at dinner for five minutes and left my husband to manage all three of them screaming. Exhausted. Drained. Frustrated. Out of control. At the end of my rope.
So I sat down to write tonight & couldn't muster up the normal effusive praise and harmonious melodies about Easter. I love that we have a day to celebrate the most amazing gift that God or man could give - He took on our sins to give us the way to an eternal life in Heaven with God and our loved ones that have gone before us, but I have to admit that I wasn't feeling all that holy today.
But....that's when God reminded me this is the place that He loves me in the most. My desperation is His delight. My overwhelmed-ness is His opportunity. He takes my inability and turns it into His immeasurable indescribable miracle. A Gind who is in control and feeling together and on top of the world and without need of help is not someone who needs a risen Saviour. I could do it alone. But I am not together or full of confidence or even aware of what to do next, so being reminded today that I serve a God who overcame DEATH - let me just repeat for emphasis, my God overcame DEATH - He can intervene in a life that is grappling with a handful of sick kids and a little measly exhaustion. What is THAT to HIM?
So let me come full circle - Hallelujah, Christ is Risen, He is Risen Indeed.
Luke 24 - Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.
John 20 - Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
Luke 1- Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.
Matthew 19 - Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
I knew in advance it would be a rocky day because in addition to hosting 18 people for Easter lunch we had sick kids. So even though it was fabulous to get a date night out with my husband last night, the late night combined with middle-of-the-night fevered children left me exhausted for my 6 am wake up call. The plan was for me to attend one church service solo at 8 am at my regular church and then attend another church service at the Vincent family church at 9:30 am with the whole family (mine plus in laws). Because of the sick kids, we skipped the nursery and attempted three 18 month-olds at the high holy day, standing room only, service. Needless to say, I was thrilled I'd already been to one service because I didn't see much of the second.
Then fast forward to post church mayhem - absence of a long enough nap, lack of interest in meals, generally feeling crummy and teething, and a house teeming with adults and children (ages 5 months to 70). The nuttiness that is my normal life is nothing compared with a busting-at-the-seams house complete with hyper kiddos and tossed away schedules. My trio was in tears most of the entire day and simultaneously acting like Velcro to my (and ONLY my) leg. I KNEW that they were overwhelmed and not feeling well, but it was still all I could do not to scream at them to give me FIVE minutes of peace. I literally walked away at dinner for five minutes and left my husband to manage all three of them screaming. Exhausted. Drained. Frustrated. Out of control. At the end of my rope.
So I sat down to write tonight & couldn't muster up the normal effusive praise and harmonious melodies about Easter. I love that we have a day to celebrate the most amazing gift that God or man could give - He took on our sins to give us the way to an eternal life in Heaven with God and our loved ones that have gone before us, but I have to admit that I wasn't feeling all that holy today.
But....that's when God reminded me this is the place that He loves me in the most. My desperation is His delight. My overwhelmed-ness is His opportunity. He takes my inability and turns it into His immeasurable indescribable miracle. A Gind who is in control and feeling together and on top of the world and without need of help is not someone who needs a risen Saviour. I could do it alone. But I am not together or full of confidence or even aware of what to do next, so being reminded today that I serve a God who overcame DEATH - let me just repeat for emphasis, my God overcame DEATH - He can intervene in a life that is grappling with a handful of sick kids and a little measly exhaustion. What is THAT to HIM?
So let me come full circle - Hallelujah, Christ is Risen, He is Risen Indeed.
Luke 24 - Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.
John 20 - Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
Luke 1- Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.
Matthew 19 - Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday and the Hole
Today is supposed to be a day you contemplate your faith. This is after all the day when we remember Christ's death on a cross. This isn't Easter Sunday - yet. It's a somber day. Maybe it was with that in mind, or maybe it was by complete chance, that I picked up a new book I'd received called The Hole In Our Gospel by Richard Stearns. A pastor at my church had mentioned how it had flattened her and made her realize we are not called to a "comfortable" faith. Her message was compelling so I'd ordered the book. Then I added it to the top of my "stack" (I'm a reader but I've found in the last 18 months almost NO time to read anything other than a short article out of Parents) and grabbed it when I treated myself to an early morning breakfast out.
I'm going to be reading this book for the next 20 years. That is how long it will take me to finish it. I had to keep setting it down. I had only made it to page 7, of the PROLOGUE, before tears sploshed onto my pancakes.
On this Good Friday, I was captured by this passage:
Bob Pierce, the founder of Word Vision, once prayed, "Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God" But who really wants his heart broken? Is this something to ask of God? Don't we pray that God will not break our hearts? But as I look at the life of Jesus, I see that He was, as Isaiah described him, "a Man of sorrows...acquainted with grief."
Never has that been more true a statement than on this day. A man, a Saviour, without sin took on every single sin that had ever been or ever would be committed and bore it to his death so that we might have the opportunity, the choice, to spend eternity with Him. The ultimate sacrifice. And yet here I sit with a VERY comfortable faith. I give to church, without sacrificing any of my wants. I help those struggling, if I can find time in my very busy schedule so not to be inconvenienced. I share about God's grace, if I know my audience and won't offend anyone. I've grown increasingly comfortable as I've acquired more things and received a bigger paycheck. My faith doesn't rock the boat. This book, these few pages, are rocking the boat. And I'm seriously concerned that if I finish it, my boat might just capsize, and I may see there's a lot God has called me to do but most of it won't involve me being comfortable. And I'm just not comfortable with that yet.
On this Good Friday, I challenge you to pick up your Bible and read John and Romans and look at the gospel with fresh eyes. Maybe pick up The Hole... Pray. Spend some time without the noise of your life blaring in your head. See if you're comfortable staying comfortable. If you dare. Easter Sunday is around the corner and ready to be celebrated. But I hope this Easter is the beginning of an annual anniversary for me - one where I make sure that the gospel I know doesn't have a gaping hole but rather is the whole picture of what Christ is calling me to here and now.
I'm going to be reading this book for the next 20 years. That is how long it will take me to finish it. I had to keep setting it down. I had only made it to page 7, of the PROLOGUE, before tears sploshed onto my pancakes.
On this Good Friday, I was captured by this passage:
Bob Pierce, the founder of Word Vision, once prayed, "Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God" But who really wants his heart broken? Is this something to ask of God? Don't we pray that God will not break our hearts? But as I look at the life of Jesus, I see that He was, as Isaiah described him, "a Man of sorrows...acquainted with grief."
Never has that been more true a statement than on this day. A man, a Saviour, without sin took on every single sin that had ever been or ever would be committed and bore it to his death so that we might have the opportunity, the choice, to spend eternity with Him. The ultimate sacrifice. And yet here I sit with a VERY comfortable faith. I give to church, without sacrificing any of my wants. I help those struggling, if I can find time in my very busy schedule so not to be inconvenienced. I share about God's grace, if I know my audience and won't offend anyone. I've grown increasingly comfortable as I've acquired more things and received a bigger paycheck. My faith doesn't rock the boat. This book, these few pages, are rocking the boat. And I'm seriously concerned that if I finish it, my boat might just capsize, and I may see there's a lot God has called me to do but most of it won't involve me being comfortable. And I'm just not comfortable with that yet.
On this Good Friday, I challenge you to pick up your Bible and read John and Romans and look at the gospel with fresh eyes. Maybe pick up The Hole... Pray. Spend some time without the noise of your life blaring in your head. See if you're comfortable staying comfortable. If you dare. Easter Sunday is around the corner and ready to be celebrated. But I hope this Easter is the beginning of an annual anniversary for me - one where I make sure that the gospel I know doesn't have a gaping hole but rather is the whole picture of what Christ is calling me to here and now.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Happy Marriage = A Bunch of Kids?
Seriously? That's what I heard on the radio coming into work the other morning & almost spit my coffee onto my dashboard. If you didn't read yesterday's post, I can assure you happiness does not ALWAYS equal a bunch of kids. And apparently my paltry three kids don't even tip the scales (the Duggars must be the happiest people on the block).
According to the Journal of Happiness Studies, I couldn't make this up if I tried, being married with a bunch of kids equates to greater life satisfaction. The guy sitting behind us at lunch Saturday must have known this. He was probably about 80 and began chatting with us and said, "you're going to have more, right?" What is it with all these comments making me spit my beverage across a room?!?! I politely said that no, this was our entire family. But he pressed on, "Oh, that's not enough. I had 6, you should have more." With all deference to his more senior wisdom, I think we're as happy as we can stand :)
Despite all the messiness of our life though, I have to say, I was pretty darn happy this morning. They all woke up in good moods, even the baby temper tantrum menace was all smiles and kisses, and I got armfuls of hugs and big wet kisses and loads of lap time with my every growing bundles who I'm going to have to stop calling babies soon.........that Journal of Happiness Studies might be on to something.
According to the Journal of Happiness Studies, I couldn't make this up if I tried, being married with a bunch of kids equates to greater life satisfaction. The guy sitting behind us at lunch Saturday must have known this. He was probably about 80 and began chatting with us and said, "you're going to have more, right?" What is it with all these comments making me spit my beverage across a room?!?! I politely said that no, this was our entire family. But he pressed on, "Oh, that's not enough. I had 6, you should have more." With all deference to his more senior wisdom, I think we're as happy as we can stand :)
Despite all the messiness of our life though, I have to say, I was pretty darn happy this morning. They all woke up in good moods, even the baby temper tantrum menace was all smiles and kisses, and I got armfuls of hugs and big wet kisses and loads of lap time with my every growing bundles who I'm going to have to stop calling babies soon.........that Journal of Happiness Studies might be on to something.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Raving Lunatic
You know what we women don't talk about much? The fact that once a month we become (at least I do) a raving lunatic. Seriously, that's not putting it too dramatically. We took a road trip and spent the weekend in Austin with my husband's sister and her family. This is a stretch for me anyways because I tend to be, gasp/shock, a bit of a control freak. It's actually why I think I was given triplets, I can manage them pretty well most of the time because I'm VERY schedule oriented. Trips away are trying for me. I'm sure they are tools to help me learn and grow, but in the midst of it, I tersely whisper to my husband that we're never leaving home again.
It gets easier, I know. One and a half year old triplets are hard at home so you can imagine what a struggle they are on the road. Even the sweetest kids, which two of the three of mine are these days, get overtired and scared at new surroundings and frustrated that they can't communicate what they want.
So here was the formula for my weekend: 3 somewhat uneasy 18 month olds + 2 families co-habitating, each with three kids + one triplet mommy whose time of the month had arrived = RAVING LUNATIC.
Friday was sleepless. The baby of our family decided to toss and turn in bed with Bray and me all night, REFUSING to sleep in the pack and play. Saturday morning was an early morning family photo shoot with my wedding photographer in chilly temps and summer clothes, all my genius idea. Driving and back and forth and changing schedules, so by Saturday night I was a very unpleasant person - I'm sure some might even apply a curse word here but I'll refrain (though not defend myself as its use would be appropriate).
The weekend itself was fine. It was great to see these in-laws, they are a really cool fun family. The kids did well overall. My husband was a trooper and managed to let me flip out at least two times a day without flying off the handle - he should get a medal. But this morning, I find the whole thing fairly humorous because even though I was FULLY AWARE by Sunday morning that there was a hormonal invader causing me to be less than pleasant, instead of trying to correct for it, I just allowed it to wreak havoc. Even when my husband tried to attribute some highly impatient behavior on the ride home to this hormonal invader, I swore up and down that it had nothing to do with that but rather the fact that we were trapped in the car with toddlers for nearly four hours. Not that the latter was uninvolved in my behavior, but my actions were not commiserate to the situation.
Women have to deal with a lot. And it's slightly unfair that we have some monthly hormones that make us act rashly, even when we are aware of what's going on. But I wonder if I should at least take a little more responsibility for my behavior and try to mitigate some of the craziness so my sweet husband and kids don't have to live with the Tasmanian Devil for 48 hours...........
It gets easier, I know. One and a half year old triplets are hard at home so you can imagine what a struggle they are on the road. Even the sweetest kids, which two of the three of mine are these days, get overtired and scared at new surroundings and frustrated that they can't communicate what they want.
So here was the formula for my weekend: 3 somewhat uneasy 18 month olds + 2 families co-habitating, each with three kids + one triplet mommy whose time of the month had arrived = RAVING LUNATIC.
Friday was sleepless. The baby of our family decided to toss and turn in bed with Bray and me all night, REFUSING to sleep in the pack and play. Saturday morning was an early morning family photo shoot with my wedding photographer in chilly temps and summer clothes, all my genius idea. Driving and back and forth and changing schedules, so by Saturday night I was a very unpleasant person - I'm sure some might even apply a curse word here but I'll refrain (though not defend myself as its use would be appropriate).
The weekend itself was fine. It was great to see these in-laws, they are a really cool fun family. The kids did well overall. My husband was a trooper and managed to let me flip out at least two times a day without flying off the handle - he should get a medal. But this morning, I find the whole thing fairly humorous because even though I was FULLY AWARE by Sunday morning that there was a hormonal invader causing me to be less than pleasant, instead of trying to correct for it, I just allowed it to wreak havoc. Even when my husband tried to attribute some highly impatient behavior on the ride home to this hormonal invader, I swore up and down that it had nothing to do with that but rather the fact that we were trapped in the car with toddlers for nearly four hours. Not that the latter was uninvolved in my behavior, but my actions were not commiserate to the situation.
Women have to deal with a lot. And it's slightly unfair that we have some monthly hormones that make us act rashly, even when we are aware of what's going on. But I wonder if I should at least take a little more responsibility for my behavior and try to mitigate some of the craziness so my sweet husband and kids don't have to live with the Tasmanian Devil for 48 hours...........
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