On top of the baby and all, we have a great update on Abbie!
She had an MRI a few days before Lucy was born, and the results have come in: the tumor has not grown at all, but there is significantly less dye enhancement. What this means is that the tumor is potentially going dormant! That would be absolutely wonderful, because then Abbie could be taken off the chemo and radiation could be delayed indefinitely. Her spine is also looking much healthier, meaning that most of the damage from her surgeries has been healed. So we'll see how her next MRI looks, but we now have a glimmer of hope that she may be spared radiation at such a young age.
All in all, very good news to get before having another baby! :)
Monday, April 23, 2007
Introducing our spider monkey!
Lucy Anna made her entrance into the world without a hitch, at a surprisingly tiny 7lbs 15 oz. I was sure that she was going to be a gigantic baby due to the all the excessive and painful kicking going on, but as it turns out she is just very squirmy. So far she's an excellent baby, never fussy and eats like a champ. The only issue we need to address is her habit of waking up around midnight and remaining bright-eyed and bushy-tailed until about 4am. Hopefully we can talk some sense into her soon.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Friday the 13th....
Is looking like a lucky day for me!
I'm just packing up some last minute stuff, and then Chris and I are heading out to the hospital!
I'll have someone update the blog and post a picture or two at some point either today or tomorrow.
And if you have any spare prayers to throw my way, that'd be cool. :)
I'm just packing up some last minute stuff, and then Chris and I are heading out to the hospital!
I'll have someone update the blog and post a picture or two at some point either today or tomorrow.
And if you have any spare prayers to throw my way, that'd be cool. :)
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Yet another girl meets her destiny?
Beth wrote this story entirely by herself, and I've typed it out exactly as it is written. She asked for help on how to spell "garden" and "trick" but she figured out the rest herself.
I'm just the mom, of course, but I think it's pretty darn impressive for a five year old!!!! Enjoy:
The Big garden with a tree and a bee and a flours.
A trick book
Beths book
The big garben with a tree and a bee and a flours.
Thare wus a big garden with a lots of flours. in the garben thare is a big tree and a bee eding the nektr in the flours.
the girl lickt's too pick flours but wen the bee wus going uwaey she will picks the flours.
the end
and a girl waching all of the flours and the bee and the tree.
I'm just the mom, of course, but I think it's pretty darn impressive for a five year old!!!! Enjoy:
The Big garden with a tree and a bee and a flours.
A trick book
Beths book
The big garben with a tree and a bee and a flours.
Thare wus a big garden with a lots of flours. in the garben thare is a big tree and a bee eding the nektr in the flours.
the girl lickt's too pick flours but wen the bee wus going uwaey she will picks the flours.
the end
and a girl waching all of the flours and the bee and the tree.
T minus 2 days
I am only going to do this once. And only because I was asked very nicely.
Please disregard the weird look on my face - getting the picture right was harder than I thought, and I was really concentrating! :)
Saturday, April 07, 2007
More Tales of Claire and Abbie
Abbie's tumor has had more ramifications than I ever expected. For example: playing doctor.
"Doctor" has been a favorite game around here since the dawn of our children. Katie and Beth have spent countless hours slaving over either Chris or me, almost always resulting in the need to amputate at least one limb. They give shots, slap on band aids, listen to heartbeats -- all the usual stuff. Claire and Abbie, though.....well, their game has reached a whole new level.
I recently had one of those moments that really made it hit home; my kids know way more than they should about medical procedures. Claire and Abbie were playing doctor, and they ushered me into the guestroom for an impromptu surgery. Abbie very methodically checked my arm for a good vein, and then gave me an IV. She then took a blood sample to check for infection. Claire did the MRI to see where my tumor was, then put the anaesthesia into the IV line. They operated on the tumor, making sure to close and then wash the incision. And when I woke up, they made me take a sip of juice to make sure I was swallowing OK. Then they gave me pain medication and told me that I needed to start rehabilitation right away.
Pretty dead-on. At least, it's a far cry from the "here's your band aid, let me listen to your wrist with the stethoscope," we used to encounter in our pre-cancer days. I assure you, Katie and Beth never even thought to start an IV when they played doctor!
It's sad in a way, but funny in a way, too. At the least, it seems like Abbie's ability to play (and enjoy) this type of game is a healthy sign. Despite all the trauma, she's managed to avoid being traumatized. There is something sick and wrong in watching the two of them play doctor, but there is something beautiful and heartening about it, too. That Abbie (and Claire, who has seen, and thus had to process, more hospital action than the older girls) can tread this ground with such a light heart, such unconcern, shames me when I think of all the stupid things I've let myself be affected by. So hook me up the IV, girls! I can take it.
"Doctor" has been a favorite game around here since the dawn of our children. Katie and Beth have spent countless hours slaving over either Chris or me, almost always resulting in the need to amputate at least one limb. They give shots, slap on band aids, listen to heartbeats -- all the usual stuff. Claire and Abbie, though.....well, their game has reached a whole new level.
I recently had one of those moments that really made it hit home; my kids know way more than they should about medical procedures. Claire and Abbie were playing doctor, and they ushered me into the guestroom for an impromptu surgery. Abbie very methodically checked my arm for a good vein, and then gave me an IV. She then took a blood sample to check for infection. Claire did the MRI to see where my tumor was, then put the anaesthesia into the IV line. They operated on the tumor, making sure to close and then wash the incision. And when I woke up, they made me take a sip of juice to make sure I was swallowing OK. Then they gave me pain medication and told me that I needed to start rehabilitation right away.
Pretty dead-on. At least, it's a far cry from the "here's your band aid, let me listen to your wrist with the stethoscope," we used to encounter in our pre-cancer days. I assure you, Katie and Beth never even thought to start an IV when they played doctor!
It's sad in a way, but funny in a way, too. At the least, it seems like Abbie's ability to play (and enjoy) this type of game is a healthy sign. Despite all the trauma, she's managed to avoid being traumatized. There is something sick and wrong in watching the two of them play doctor, but there is something beautiful and heartening about it, too. That Abbie (and Claire, who has seen, and thus had to process, more hospital action than the older girls) can tread this ground with such a light heart, such unconcern, shames me when I think of all the stupid things I've let myself be affected by. So hook me up the IV, girls! I can take it.
Proof that we have been overusing a certain phrase....
Claire woke up at 5am on Friday because she suddenly realized that her bear wasn't in her bed. She looked for it, then came down to enlist me in the search. I took her back up to her room, did a cursury look (no bear) and then convinced her to wait until morning to find Bear.
As Claire was climbing back under the covers, a little voice from Abbie's side of the room piped up, "Be quiet, Claire! I am SICK and TIRED!"
As Claire was climbing back under the covers, a little voice from Abbie's side of the room piped up, "Be quiet, Claire! I am SICK and TIRED!"
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Melt my heart
Overheard during lunch:
"Hey, Princess?"
"I'm not a princess, I'm a ballerina."
"Oh, Ballerina? I love you."
"I love you too, darling."
"Hey, Princess?"
"I'm not a princess, I'm a ballerina."
"Oh, Ballerina? I love you."
"I love you too, darling."
Monday, April 02, 2007
Palm Sunday, or How To Torture A Young Family
Mass on Palm Sunday. Ah.
Our first mistake was to pick our mass time without reference to which priest would be presiding. Our parish has two wonderful priests, and we like both of them very much. However, one is lucid and mercifully succicint while the other is pretty elderly and not in the best of health, and a very sloooooooow talker to boot. Veeeeeeeeeery sloooooooooooow. Think Princess Bride guy, without the speech impediment.
Katie and Beth did a wonderful job. I need to state this first. Katie followed along in her new First Communion mass book, and she enjoyed reading the entire gospel as it was read. Beth couldn't quite follow the entire thing, but she could read the congregation's lines and that was enough to hold her interest.
Abbie, though, just really wanted to talk to Chris. She had a lot on her mind, I guess, and the long pauses between each word being read seemed like the perfect time to convey these thoughts to her Daddy. Claire, on the other hand, was not happy with all the attention I was giving Beth (I was pointing out the audience response ahead of time so that she would be ready) and decided that I need to read something to her. Right now. She wasn't satisfied by my efforts to show both her and the Beth the same book and in protest she began to squirm against me, evidently trying to touch as much of my body at once as humanly possible. And so Beth leaned in closer to me as well, both to see the book better and, I suspect, to defend her territory. And at that moment the baby started to kick me. Hard. I have never felt so claustrophobic in my life. Black spots were literally growing around my peripheral vision and it was becoming impossible to breathe. Meanwhile, Claire began crying because she wanted attention, Beth was shoving her head right into the part of my stomach where the baby was squirming, and the priest was up on the alter taking a full minute to read each. and. every. line. And then Abbie decided that she needed to be near Mommy as well.
We were smack in the middle of the pew, and there was nowhere for me to flee. Cue hormonal pregnant tears.
So Claire was crying, I was crying, Abbie was clearly thinking about crying, the baby was trying to break my ribs, Beth was shoving the book at me to keep on track, and Chris - from his end of the pew where there was air to breathe and just one, perfectly behaved 7 year old quietly reading, gave me a look that clearly said, "what is your problem?"
And Pilate said to the crowd, "What offense has this man committed?"
And they responded, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"
Holy Week is going to be great. No, really, it is. Because I'm getting my own pew. And we'll see then who gets to leave mass with dry eyes.
Our first mistake was to pick our mass time without reference to which priest would be presiding. Our parish has two wonderful priests, and we like both of them very much. However, one is lucid and mercifully succicint while the other is pretty elderly and not in the best of health, and a very sloooooooow talker to boot. Veeeeeeeeeery sloooooooooooow. Think Princess Bride guy, without the speech impediment.
Katie and Beth did a wonderful job. I need to state this first. Katie followed along in her new First Communion mass book, and she enjoyed reading the entire gospel as it was read. Beth couldn't quite follow the entire thing, but she could read the congregation's lines and that was enough to hold her interest.
Abbie, though, just really wanted to talk to Chris. She had a lot on her mind, I guess, and the long pauses between each word being read seemed like the perfect time to convey these thoughts to her Daddy. Claire, on the other hand, was not happy with all the attention I was giving Beth (I was pointing out the audience response ahead of time so that she would be ready) and decided that I need to read something to her. Right now. She wasn't satisfied by my efforts to show both her and the Beth the same book and in protest she began to squirm against me, evidently trying to touch as much of my body at once as humanly possible. And so Beth leaned in closer to me as well, both to see the book better and, I suspect, to defend her territory. And at that moment the baby started to kick me. Hard. I have never felt so claustrophobic in my life. Black spots were literally growing around my peripheral vision and it was becoming impossible to breathe. Meanwhile, Claire began crying because she wanted attention, Beth was shoving her head right into the part of my stomach where the baby was squirming, and the priest was up on the alter taking a full minute to read each. and. every. line. And then Abbie decided that she needed to be near Mommy as well.
We were smack in the middle of the pew, and there was nowhere for me to flee. Cue hormonal pregnant tears.
So Claire was crying, I was crying, Abbie was clearly thinking about crying, the baby was trying to break my ribs, Beth was shoving the book at me to keep on track, and Chris - from his end of the pew where there was air to breathe and just one, perfectly behaved 7 year old quietly reading, gave me a look that clearly said, "what is your problem?"
And Pilate said to the crowd, "What offense has this man committed?"
And they responded, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"
Holy Week is going to be great. No, really, it is. Because I'm getting my own pew. And we'll see then who gets to leave mass with dry eyes.
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