Ok, because it wouldn't be fair for life to be 100% bliss, we have to have some bad to balance out the good. Hard times make us appreciate the good times that much more.
In light of this, Andy has pretty much been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. In April, he had what is called Optic Neuritis. He was having problems seeing out of one eye. The doctors kept making quick referrals, so we knew something was up, and we got escalated to a neurologist rather quickly since this Optic Neuritis can be indicative of Multiple Sclerosis. So, Andy sat through a two hour MRI, and they diagnosed him with "Clinically Isolated Syndrome". He had a lesion on his brain, this Optic Neuritis, and had had another separate episode also, at some point. A nurse came to our house and showed Andy how to administer his medicine which he takes once a week - in the form of a shot. This is supposed to "delay", NOT prevent, any episodes and full blown Multiple Sclerosis. He has not technically been diagnosed with MS since a diagnosis is kind of a complicated thing which requires so many episodes in a certain amount of time and one of his episodes happened without knowledge of time frame.
Since then, Andy has been dealing with numbness and tingling in the torso, fingers, legs, arms, with it moving to different spots randomly. The side effects of his medicine (which may or may not work) include flu-like symptoms like shakes, shivering, sweats, temperature and a general fatigue. He takes the shot on Friday evening so he can sleep through most of the symptoms and take it easy all day Saturday. This past week he has been dealing with dizzy spells and has been refraining from driving, I had to drive him to work a couple of days.
So, there it is - the bad and ugly to our good. Everyone has ugly, and I am here to share it all, not just the happy "oh-everything-is-so-perfect" moments. Because, unfortunately, life is not perfect. But we do find joy in our little Amara Mae. When we found out about Andy's condition, he mentioned how he was really glad we had her when we did because she is such a stress reliever, and he could use that right now. She gives a little added meaning to life. She makes us laugh and smile every day.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Where's the Pause Button?
These baby days are going by so fast. Each new day brings new adventures. Amara is rapidly learning and moving right along to the next thing once one thing is mastered. She actually learned to clap a few weeks ago, did it a few times and hasn't done it again since. That's because now, she is learning to flip and flop all around on the floor, sit up by herself like a big girl, the laws of gravity (by dropping things from the high chair then inspecting what happened), and the laws of cause and effect (by banging her mesh feeder, repeatedly, and quite loudly, on her high chair).
It is all so exciting to watch but part of me is quite sad. I am at the top of the hill on this roller coaster, right before the first big drop. And once we drop, the twists and turns will provide moments of thrill and then it will be over. Just like that. The baby days will come to a rapid stop. Babies don't stay babies very long. Technically, I think they are babies until 2 maybe....? Then they're considered toddlers. But really, in my mind, between 12 and 15 months, the babyness starts to fade. And I'm halfway through all that already!
I have listened intently when people tell me, in warning tones "enjoy it because it doesn't last long." And I have! But I just want to pause this moment. I want to get a Saturday, when Papa Bear is home and push pause on the remote control of life. Just until I'm ready, maybe a few days. Or a few weeks.
Of course, I look forward to the future. I tell Andy that "next year at this time, I'll be chasing little Amara around." And today, we went out to eat for Andy's first Father's Day. There was a little girl at the table next to us, maybe 3 years old. She was holding out her french fry to her dad, telling him about something on it. I said "Amara is going to be so cute when she's that age. She'll be holding out her french fry to you and telling you all about it." And I pictured what she would look like, what she would sound like, the facial expressions and the words she would use (words way beyond her 3 year old level of course). But for right now, I see Amara blossoming every day. She is starting to actually understand what I say when I talk to her. I am having so much fun and I just want to be stuck here for a little while, that's all.
And that is why we should all seize the day. Because you can never get back what you missed. Yes, carpe diem.
It is all so exciting to watch but part of me is quite sad. I am at the top of the hill on this roller coaster, right before the first big drop. And once we drop, the twists and turns will provide moments of thrill and then it will be over. Just like that. The baby days will come to a rapid stop. Babies don't stay babies very long. Technically, I think they are babies until 2 maybe....? Then they're considered toddlers. But really, in my mind, between 12 and 15 months, the babyness starts to fade. And I'm halfway through all that already!
I have listened intently when people tell me, in warning tones "enjoy it because it doesn't last long." And I have! But I just want to pause this moment. I want to get a Saturday, when Papa Bear is home and push pause on the remote control of life. Just until I'm ready, maybe a few days. Or a few weeks.
Of course, I look forward to the future. I tell Andy that "next year at this time, I'll be chasing little Amara around." And today, we went out to eat for Andy's first Father's Day. There was a little girl at the table next to us, maybe 3 years old. She was holding out her french fry to her dad, telling him about something on it. I said "Amara is going to be so cute when she's that age. She'll be holding out her french fry to you and telling you all about it." And I pictured what she would look like, what she would sound like, the facial expressions and the words she would use (words way beyond her 3 year old level of course). But for right now, I see Amara blossoming every day. She is starting to actually understand what I say when I talk to her. I am having so much fun and I just want to be stuck here for a little while, that's all.
And that is why we should all seize the day. Because you can never get back what you missed. Yes, carpe diem.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
My Sunday Drive (with very few momisms)
I went to a family reunion today. It was way the heck out in Lexington, MO. I didn't realize how far it really was, and I surely didn't realize that I would be pleasantly surprised by the drive.
You see, for the past several months I have been yearning to go on a Sunday drive...the kind my mom used to enjoy. They start out with a general direction in mind, and included spontaneous turns down unknown but interesting roads. Usually rural routes, gravel roads and an atlas are a must.
As I was driving to Lexington, stores, houses, strip malls, gas stations and street lights gave way to rolling hills, trees, livestock and old farmhouses. I did not expect the drive to be beautiful at all and was simply delighted by the treasures my eyes constantly landed on. I was always surprised to find what was around the bend. It was a cloudy morning, a little misty in some places, which added to the enchantment of it all. The ride home was sunny in a surreal, perfect way, casting shadows that only come from mid-day sun. Everything seemed to glisten.
The farther I got into the drive, the more I longed to belong to this land, way out in the middle of nowhere. I longed to breathe this crystal clear air and to stand in the middle of the ridge of trees, allowing their vibrations to reset my soul. I longed to dig my hands into the soil and feel it under my nails; to establish a give-and-take relationship with the earth as I gently planted my seeds and pulled up the vegetation that the earth offered - my gift for being kind and gentle. I longed to explore and learn the beautiful, strangely terraced hill I saw in the distance from the highway. I wanted desperately to hike the hills under the canopy of trees, to learn the different plants and know which snakes were poisonous. To know what kind of animal was making that strange sound. To be able to make a fire if need be, and spend the night in a small corner of the great span of land that I knew. To make a path in the forest.
I don't know what people do for a living when they live in ten buck two. I've always wondered. A big part of me needs the country. Another part of me would feel so lonely and isolated as my need for social activity is great. I would be frustrated at how far the grocery store, Wal-Mart and Babies R Us were. It would be mighty convenient if I could just be Amish. All of this would be covered. Not sure if I could do without computer and phone but I would probably surprise myself and find solace in the neighboring women. Little Amara Mae would grow up knowing how to live off the land, which would be some of the most useful knowledge a person could have. I wish I knew how to live off the land.
You see, for the past several months I have been yearning to go on a Sunday drive...the kind my mom used to enjoy. They start out with a general direction in mind, and included spontaneous turns down unknown but interesting roads. Usually rural routes, gravel roads and an atlas are a must.
As I was driving to Lexington, stores, houses, strip malls, gas stations and street lights gave way to rolling hills, trees, livestock and old farmhouses. I did not expect the drive to be beautiful at all and was simply delighted by the treasures my eyes constantly landed on. I was always surprised to find what was around the bend. It was a cloudy morning, a little misty in some places, which added to the enchantment of it all. The ride home was sunny in a surreal, perfect way, casting shadows that only come from mid-day sun. Everything seemed to glisten.
The farther I got into the drive, the more I longed to belong to this land, way out in the middle of nowhere. I longed to breathe this crystal clear air and to stand in the middle of the ridge of trees, allowing their vibrations to reset my soul. I longed to dig my hands into the soil and feel it under my nails; to establish a give-and-take relationship with the earth as I gently planted my seeds and pulled up the vegetation that the earth offered - my gift for being kind and gentle. I longed to explore and learn the beautiful, strangely terraced hill I saw in the distance from the highway. I wanted desperately to hike the hills under the canopy of trees, to learn the different plants and know which snakes were poisonous. To know what kind of animal was making that strange sound. To be able to make a fire if need be, and spend the night in a small corner of the great span of land that I knew. To make a path in the forest.
I don't know what people do for a living when they live in ten buck two. I've always wondered. A big part of me needs the country. Another part of me would feel so lonely and isolated as my need for social activity is great. I would be frustrated at how far the grocery store, Wal-Mart and Babies R Us were. It would be mighty convenient if I could just be Amish. All of this would be covered. Not sure if I could do without computer and phone but I would probably surprise myself and find solace in the neighboring women. Little Amara Mae would grow up knowing how to live off the land, which would be some of the most useful knowledge a person could have. I wish I knew how to live off the land.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
