The Now

I am finding it hard to fabricate my to do list today.  I know there are a ton of things to do...I've been thinking about them all week.  However, after being extremely task oriented at work the past few days I am finding it hard to get motivated when I don't have to worry about someone's ABC's (airway, breathing and circulation).  

I am also procrastinating.  The backyard needs raking and unfortunately a temperature of 34 degrees fahrenheit is no motivation for me to get outside.  I realize that in March I will be extremely grateful for this type of weather, but right now...no thank you.  I even cheated this morning and turned up the thermostat.  Don't tell Nick.  The dog on the other hand refuses to come inside.  She absolutely loves this weather.  If only there was a way to attach a rake to her as she forages the yard, then I'd have it made.

Alas, here I am, sitting in front of my computer ready to blog.    

I don't think there is any other profession that can remind a person so consistently about the fragility and unknowns of life than that of the healthcare profession.  In the ICU where I am employed we work primarily with individuals who have suffered from various types of strokes and brain aneurysm ruptures.  These events occur with very little warning and can create significant life changes for all those involved.  I used to think, mistakenly, that these events were reserved for the elderly.  Unfortunately, I have seen some very young people affected.  In fact, the majority of our patient population is in their mid-40s to 60s.

I often struggle with the stark reality of how quickly a caretaker becomes the cared for.  In fact, this week I was assigned to a man who had suffered a stroke that resulted in massive brain swelling.  In order to control the swelling, he underwent emergency surgery and was placed in a medically induced coma.  His prognosis is unknown until the swelling retreats and we are able to see what the underlying damage is.  Yesterday, I listened to his wife as she described to me her battle with MS.  She had always known that someday she would need to be cared for, but never imagined that her husband would find himself in a position that would threaten his ability to do so.

There are obviously many complexities to this job, but one of the hardest is the lack of predictability.  Sometimes patients arrive in the worst shape possible, and they end up eventually returning to their previous lives.  Others come in, face numerous complications and are never able to reach a full recovery.  I often find myself reminding patients and family members that we need to work with the challenges we have right now and then our next steps will depend on their response to the current crisis.

I think one of the greatest lessons I am learning in the ICU is that the only predictable thing about life is that it is unpredictable.  My mom was constantly reminding me as a child to "never say never."  She used to tell me that God finds opportunity in that statement and makes the unthinkable possible.  As a child you grow up thinking and dreaming about what your life will be like when you are older.  It may change from time to time but rarely do you imagine several dreams for yourself simultaneously.  Suddenly, as an adult you begin to realize that life comes with a plethora of options.  You start to see that the journey isn't as concrete as you once thought.

As I have mentioned multiple times in these blogs the year ahead is anything but concrete for Nick and I.    I have a sneaking suspicion that next year I will look back and think about all the things that happened that I never expected to happen.  I am also certain that the addition of another person to our family will only increase the possibilities.

I can, however, take comfort in knowing that a few constants will remain intact.  I take solace in knowing that the love and support of my family has been unwavering for 27 years now, and I don't anticipate that changing.  I know that despite challenges Nick and I have continued to grow as a couple.  We have navigated many changes over the past nine years of our relationship, both individually and together, and eventually end up stronger.  Finally, I know that through the various growth opportunities of life I have always been filled with a sense of calm and peace in knowing that things will work out.  After all, I believe it has been said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.

The Power of a Good Pair of Jeans

I was a woman on a mission.  Desperate times were calling for desperate measures, and I had my eyes set on one thing and one thing only.  The goal was to find a pair of maternity jeans; the challenge was to find a pair of maternity jeans that didn't feel or look like what they were.  


I've gone through a pretty major "growth spurt" in the last few weeks, and this weekend I finally came to the realization that there was no more adapting my old jeans to fit my growing bump.  I had been using all the tricks including the bella band and expanding the waist line using a hair binder.  However, when my zipper popped open for the umpteenth time this week, I just couldn't take it anymore.  There was a ceremonial tossing of the jeans across the room with an exclamation of frustration that Nick would not be able to ignore.  It was official, the jeans had to be retired.


I was all business as we headed out to the store.  There was no stopping me.  I was going to beat the bump, no matter the cost.  Nick came along and was able to provide enough comic relief to ease my wild and desperate aspirations.  I was on a timeline as we had only come into town from a weekend up North late in the afternoon and had plans for the evening with some friends.  Since maternity shops are limited in Roseville, I had few options.  However, after trying on only four pairs there was a clear winner and I left the store feeling like I had renewed hope for the future of this pregnancy.  Actually the process was quite anticlimactic considering the anxious anticipation I'd had over the outing.  


I can honestly, and sheepishly, admit that my lack of adequately fitting pants had indeed affected my mood this weekend.  I had started to dread getting dressed.  Very few of my clothes fit anymore, and I just wasn't used to that feeling.  My body really has changed very little since high school and so dressing for two has been quite the mental shift.     


Don't get me wrong, I love the bump.  I am excited about the baby and full of pride at my growing belly.  I was elated when we had our check up last Thursday and I measured out at 21 cm, right on target for where I should be.  In fact I was pleased as punch to find out that our ultra sound estimated us to be at 21 weeks as well.  I am incredibly thankful and relieved to know that all is on target and progressing as it should.  It is just a very foreign feeling to be gaining weight and curves in such a dramatic way. 


I have always been criticized by my loving family of my tendency toward exaggeration and drama, and I know this post only capitalizes on it.  I am fully aware and willing to admit this and appreciate the gentle reminders of my family to adjust my perspective.  However, I can't convey the relief I had this morning when I only had to try on one outfit.  I didn't dread going through my closet to find a shirt because I knew I wasn't going to have to wear a thousand layers to cover up the unbuttoned and halfway zipped jeans.  


I can't describe how excited I was to put on my jeans today.  I do have to take a deep breath when I pull the elastic band up and over my waist, but all I can do is smile once the shirt goes on and I find that I can sit and bend without popping a zipper or pinching my stomach.  I finally felt today like I had regained control of some of these crazy changes.  And today, instead of resenting the bump, I embraced it.  For that, maternity jeans I salute you and look forward to several more months of continued growth.   

First kick...

In this grand adventure of pregnancy, there are times in which I feel like it is a very one sided process.  Obviously, it takes two to get to this point.  However, for the most part I have sole responsibility of the baby baking process.  I am the one watching what I eat, and giving up some of my favorite treats.  I am the one who has given up the occasional glass of wine or beer that seems so deserved at the end of a long day or during the football game.  I mean, can anyone watch the Vikings these days without a little alcohol on board?!  I am also the one who gets to experiencing the morphing of my body as I lose complete control of it to this baby.

On the flip side, I also get the instantaneous and daily connection to this baby.  With every change, comes another reminder of the process that is taking place.  Ever since I found out I was pregnant I've felt a great responsibility and sense of pride for this little one growing inside me.  I have delighted in the changes in my body knowing they carry with them one of our greatest blessings.  And when I started feeling flutters at 17 weeks, it was only I who could experience them.  Recently, I have been increasingly anxious to begin feeling the kicks outside my body, so that Nick could experience them too.

Aside from hearing the heartbeat at our doctor's visit, very little of this pregnancy process has been experienced by Nick.  Most of what happens is reported to him after the fact.  However, just two nights ago, we were sitting on the couch and Nick reached over to pat my stomach.  Suddenly, his fingers jumped off my abdomen and he cried out excitedly that he had felt our baby kick.  Now, I've been waiting for this to happen as I've become increasingly aware of the baby's movements and kicks, but still hadn't felt it with my hand on my stomach.  It was so exciting to me that Nick was able to experience a "first" for the pregnancy.

There truly is nothing like it.  With each kick, both inside and out, I am falling more in love with this child of ours.  I am also incredibly thankful that Nick was able to palpate the first official outside kick.  It was fun to have him report a pregnancy experience to me, instead of vice versa!  Making sure he feels included in this process is incredibly important to me and the smile on his face was priceless.  Now I can hardly wait to see the way he beams when he first holds our child in February!