I haven't posted so long, I'm actually feeling like, what do I do? Do I have anything to say that might be entertaining/enlightening/funny/weird? Do I have any information to convey? Should I blog, or just read others blogs?
I need to get back into this more regularly.
First off - before i say anything else -- thank you so much to all the thoughts, prayers, encouraging words that have been written here, emailed to me or people who called just to see how we're/I'm doing. It has been a tremendous blessing. You don't really understand isolation until you lay in bed for (practically) five months straight. I think the isolation has been the hardest thing to bear these past months. Yes, I hurt every day, and yes, I miss being able to 'do' things with my kids. But hands down, the hardest part has been the isolation.
And I really don't want this to sound like a sob story, or an appeal for sympathy. Being alone, fairly disabled, with television or reading material as your primary company is really hard. And it's easy to slip into self pity, which interstingly, doesn't really happen that often. What DOES happen though, is that I start thinking about my friends, and wondering what they're doing. And then I start getting sad, because I really have missed so much! I miss seeing my friends. And while I love and adore getting calls and emails, it really doesn't live up to actually seeing someone in person, and having them lay on the bed with you, talking and laughing. And that's been the hardest, because that really hasn't happened a lot. And then my mind can really go on a bender: nobody loves me, I'm not important enough in people's lives to come and see, blah, blah, blah. Whine, whine, whine. And then I start feeling guilty for judging my friends like that, because I KNOW that they have crazy/harried/busy lives just like we do, and I really do know they love me. But, when you're alone...it's easy to let your thoughts run wild, and not reign them in. But I'm trying and mostly succeeding. And where I don't succeed, Ross steps in and helps me.
On an entirely different note. Here's something I didn't realize. You can go from 10 in the morning to 5 at night solely watching court tv shows. I kid you not. And it's taken a LOT of TV watching to realize that. So at least I'm spending my time wisely, and getting stuff done while I'm recuperating. =)
I have been reading a lot though. And as you may have noticed, I changed my books I'd recommend list (there in the left-hand bar, keep going, keep going, riiiiiiiight THERE!), I changed it so you could see my 'notes' about a particular book. They're part review/part reason why I love them.
Speaking of books, I just finished one (it's listed in that same column you just checked out.), The True and Outstanding Adventures of the Hunt Sisters, was a great book exploring the relationships of family and sisters. It was beautifully written. There is a quote of some stanzas from a Yeats poem that I just loved, because it really captures how I feel about my girls right now.
I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I miss you
When you have grown.
Isn't that beautiful? The time I have with them is so precious, and so fleeting. My girls come and lay in bed with me, and we watch shows together, and read books together, and make animal sounds together. And we laugh together.And sing together. And we fall asleep together. I cherish the time we ahve. I so wish that I could roll around with them on the floor, and chase them down the hall, and be the silly/fun/crazy mommy of old. Especially since they grow so fast. And who knows how much longer they'll want to do those things. Who knows when they'll be replaced with friends and homework and activities. When laying in bed with mommy and singing Old MacDonald Had a Farm for the 437th time will cease to be desirable to them. Where holding hands in bed, with our heads on one pillow watching Seasame Street is deemed 'so babyish.' I watch the changing angles of their faces and the pudginess of their baby wrists turn into thinner, child-like wrists. When I can hear them coming down the hall by the swish of their diaper. And I want to stop them and keep them here, and wrap myself around them. And when I have these thoughts, I grab them and kiss them, and nuzzle their necks and smell their wondrous baby smell. They grow so quickly and I don't want to miss a moment. And yet, I am. And that is the hardest part, the missing of all those moments with my girls. And I love when people tell me, "Oh, you should have heard Sofia say this," or "You should have seen Bella today," and while I love hearing anecdotes and kind or laughable, or funny things they do, I'm am also jealous of that time they got to experience something with my kids that I didn't, and for a moment I feel robbed. I love them so much sometimes I look at them and my heart yearns and aches because of how much I love them. And I wonder if this is how my mom felt about me when I was little. And if she feels the same way now? I wonder if I will always feel this way about them, where I want to envelop them in love and kisses and just breathe in their smell, and play with their beautiful hair, or marvel at their feet, so beautiful in their very uniqueness. I wonder if it will always be this intense, and if not, why not? I look at them and I see the future, and tiny twinges of what God originally intended our lives to be...
Sickness is such a manifestation of our broken world. And I try to break free of the ties my sickness has on me. And yet, when I do, I find myself hurting more, and even more weary, from the wiggling free of the constraints of not being able to do things for myself. Ross has been so steadfast in keeping me where I need to be, despite my protestations otherwise. He'll plead with me to stop cleaning, or folding the laundry, because he knows the repercussions later on that night when I'll be whimpering in pain, unable to get into a comfortable position.
Ross has been so amazing. I can't even tell you the huge weight he is shouldering right now. Besides trying to get his new business off the ground, and flying steadily (which it has been) and trying to fit in actual work between taking care of me: bringing me meals, and water, and reminding me to take my medecine, to rubbing my back tirelessly, or just coming in to sit with me once in a while, because he knows I'm practically knawing the sheetrock because I'm so bored and sick of being in this room. He's both mommy and daddy: he gets the girls up, and ready for the day, feeds them breakfast, lunch and dinner, takes them to appointments and pre-school. Changes diapers, and reads books before bed. He holds and cuddles when fingers have gotten pinched, and brushes tangly hair, and plays house with dollies, and pretends to be Prince Charming and goes shopping for our food, and does he dishes and picks up the house. I think it was Tami who said he is living the 'In sickness and in health, in good times and bad' part of our marriage. We both are. And as cranky and whiny and snively as I get, he is there to hold me, while snot runs down my face and drips onto his jeans while I cry. When he should be the one crying on me. He is incredible and amazing, and I don't know what I would do without him. I always feel that way, but I feel it in an entirely new way. There really are no words to be able to thank him for all he has done, and continues to do for his family. He has been so unflaggingly diligent in taking care of us all. And just as I feel like I couldn't do without him in an entirely new way, I also feel the love that I have for him as grown and broadened in an entirely new way. And if I weren't in this position, I never would have discovered another way to love him. But I do. I didn't think it was possible to love him more. But I do. Thank you Ross, I'm so humbled and grateful for you. Thank you for all you do for me and for your girls, who adore you almost as much as I do.
So after hearing all that you'll understand why I'm so thrilled that we got a call from Stanford saying that they've decided to see me, and that I have an appointment in two weeks, and would I please bring my MRI's and anything else pertinent. And I had to hold back my scream of delight and giddiness as she's telling me these things, these things that she's probably told a thousand people, and they probably roll out of her mouth of their own accord, she's said them so many times. She's probably reading an email, or filling while she's talking to me, because it's so rote and robotic what she's saying, I don't think she realizes the uplift in my tone, nor my barely disguised joy.
I know there will be more pain again. Have I talked about how much I'm dreading surgery again? Don't worry I will. But that's for another post.
To end on a good note...Ross and I are going away tomorrow (oh, I guess it's today now), for two nights -- yes, you read that right -- TWO NIGHTS in San Francisco. We're splurging and staying at the which is something we never do (if you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you'll know that I am a devotee of and their $50ish dollar a night four-star hotel stays in San Francisco. However, because the goal of those two nights and three-ish days is to basically be a hermit in our hotel room: movies, books, naps, magazines, spa treatments, and did I mention naps? Since that was the purpose of getting away, to spend time together, uninterrupted by client calls, cranky kids clamoring for our attention, and the monotony of being in one room for months on end, so we decided to go for it and stay in a place where we were gauranteed a beautiful room and wonderful room service. It's the first time we've ever stayed in a 5-star hotel and I'm giddy with anticipation. Mostly because we'll get to spend time together and talk and hold hands and walk down a street without a stroller or a diaper bag or kids needing to be changed, or fed, or put down for a nap.
To have uninterrupted adult time, since we're gearing up for round two of intense pain, post-surgery, and we thought this would be a good way to refresh ourselves just a little before it all begins again. Or rather, continues. And I really just wanted to give Ross a break, and time to for him to not have to think about anything more imporant than whether we should have room service or go out for a few hours. My sister has volunteered (thank you, thank you, thank you) to be with the girls while we go away. I'm sure I'll have pictures and a recap when I'm back. But for now, I'm getting tired, so I'll leave, but wanted to say, again, thank you, thank you my friends and family. For the calls and emails, for dropping by, or taking Bella and Sofia to play. For coming over and trying to tackle our mountain of laundry, or the dishes in the sink. They are more appreciated than you know. Thank you for loving us and thinking and praying for us at this time. It makes a difference, no matter how much whining and kvetching I may do. I love you, and miss you and I hope to be around a lot more in the (hopefully very) near future.