Being uncomfortable in my own skin both inspires change and
prevents it; depending on my perspective, the day, how much coffee I’ve had and
on the amount of fear involved. I’ve been so uncomfortable lately. I’m
uncomfortable with the giant things I can’t fix in a day; like how things are
going with Kaitlyn and my inability to figure it out and fix it, Kai’s school
this year, if both kids are doing enough ‘normal kid’ things, that we haven’t
been to the dentist in way too long, how to pay bills and still have enough money
left over for gas & food, and my inability to predict the future. I’m also
uncomfortable with little daily things- I don’t have a favorite girly coffee drink,
we’re running out of laundry soap, I found the mixing bowl in the freezer
yesterday, I need to mop the floor and I’m missing one shoe. The key to
balancing this discomfort hasn’t found me yet, but finally in the past few months,
I’m facing a lot of it, except I still haven’t found that fracking shoe.
“Mama. How come I can’t see the border? The border patrol
must be pretty confused right in between Oregon and California.” -Kai
In late August, we went on our first ‘real’ vacation. We
flew to Oregon to see family. So many ‘firsts’
packed into 4 days. Our first plane ride together (& with TPN & all our
medical gear), first time meeting family, first time the kids saw Oregon, Kai’s
first airplane snack mix (he was REALLY excited about that), and the first time
we all went in a taxi mini-van. Every aspect of our vacation was an adventure.
I can honestly say we were never bored. In the midst of luggage falling, Kai
questions, dropping Kaitlyn’s stroller by putting too many bags on it (and a
pilot catching her), getting lost at the airport, coordinating a taxi mini-van (with
a hilarious driver, even though he wasn’t funny on purpose) & adjusting
formula/TPN times; we made it to Portland successfully. When we arrived at the
Portland airport, the enormity of making it there hit me when we got to baggage
claim because I wasn’t sure if all the plans I typed out were going to go as
planned. Except then Kai held on to my hand a little tighter and got excited
seeing our bag come out of the thingy that pushes bags out- and we carried on,
pushing Kaitlyn through the airport with bags stacked up right. We did get
stuck in those revolving doors but then a very helpful airport guy stopped the
door and guided us in the right direction. Throughout the trip, calmness overrode all the
worry, or laughter did; even when it was the nervous kind. We were able to meet a sister of mine I’ve
never met before, her mom (who I looked up to SO much to me as a kid), see
another sister, two aunts, an uncle and a cousin who I haven’t seen since I was
younger than both my kids are now. Feeling like I belonged right away with our family,
and that we were accepted and loved exactly as we came meant more to me than I
have words for. All those cheesy things people say in movies when life feels
‘right’ and sparkly, and everyone’s words come out poetically; that was the feeling seeing everyone we were
able to see. My words didn’t come out right, but it didn’t matter. Sister talk
at night in our hotel room with my sister Vanessa was so refreshing. I felt
like we were kids again, and we laughed about a lot of the summers we do
remember. It wasn’t for long enough, and
Kaitlyn’s medical stuff followed; yet feeling free and capable were experiences
that won’t go away thankfully. Kaitlyn’s pumps beeped, seizures came, tubes
were sometimes stubborn, but when she was awake; she was so happy, peaceful and
in love with every part of the experience. Both kids couldn’t believe we were
there. The ability to leave our comfort zone was a great realization for all 3
of us. It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible. We’re incredibly grateful,
capable and supported.
“I miss Kai. I prayed, I wished and I crossed my fingers. I
still miss Kai too much. Even if it’s one day or one hour, I need my Kai.”
-Kaitlyn
About a month ago (or maybe 2), Kaitlyn was miserable at 2am.
Her stomach hurt- her tube site was a rashy, gooy disaster and nothing we tried
helped. These cycles are so hard to break. I wish that was the only moment she
was miserable and I wish I had magic mom powers. I remember that night
specifically though because as she turned in my bed, crying and asking me to
call all the right people to ‘fix this’, she threw the pillow, sat up and said,
“I want to share a room with Kai. You never gave me an answer.” Finally, she
had a problem I understood, and I could fix. She had been asking for months
before that really, and even made a ‘room plan’ with their beds mapped out on
paper and all the rules she’d follow. Kai had agreed to her plan and he added a
spot for his police badges, but I was exhausted and never put their plan into
action. I also worried about stupid things; like if they were too old to share
a room, if it was weird with boys and girls, if important people would think
this was a bad decision, and if this would contribute to our lifelong therapy
needs. However, that middle-of-the-night
moment with Kaitlyn I decided to go with it. For an entire day (& night),
in between medications, setting up her TPN and formula, taking her off formula
when she was screaming, and getting Kai to and from school; I successfully
moved their furniture around to have them sharing a room. Even though I had 3
purple toes, bruises all over from being less than graceful and it still hurts
to move my right arm higher than my head, it was totally worth it. I dragged
dressers, somehow balanced a bed frame over my head and in between doorways,
pulled their desk and carried piles of books, toys, and clothes from one room
to another without breaking anything except possibly one toe. Our house is small.
I love it because I can vacuum the entire house and not have to change plugs
and I can’t lose anyone- but it does make it tricky to move furniture. Her IV
pole sits at the end of her bed now so we can’t close the door- but we don’t
close doors much anyway. This is a lot of rambling for one room change- but the
end result was 2 very happy kids. I love how close they are. She was still
miserable the following nights, but less so. Kai curls up next to her and reads
to her. Kaitlyn stays in her own bed now- that hasn’t happened in a long time.
Kai- my little midnight house walker—now stays in his bed more too. This was an
excellent lesson in listening to my kids more. Also a good lesson in allowing
myself to just do something different without letting all my lame questions get
in the way. I know, baby steps really. Next time hopefully my asking-less-questions
story is more exciting.
"Mama. This is the best birthday, ever. I am the luckiest!" - Kaitlyn
Kaitlyn turned 12! I don't know how that's possible. Time is flying way too fast. Every time she was awake on her birthday, she smiled big and said it was the best, ever. Not that there's ever a good time for a seizure, but having them on her birthday seemed so completely wrong and unfair. However, she made the best of every waking minute, celebrating her big day with smiles, snuggles, giggles and appreciating for every little thing. Even though she doesn't actually eat cake, I made one- my best attempt at a guitar cake (with guidance, support and supplies from Lisa!) and Kaitlyn made top secret 12- year old birthday wishes.
“Doing art makes me feel like I don’t have any worries or
seizures and nothing hurts.”
She has a new and sweetly perfect answer every time someone
asks her why she likes to do art. Late September, we watched an amazing event
come together. Kaitlyn’s art was displayed for our community, friends, family
and Kaitlyn’s sweet circle of people she adores and leans on. The newspaper wrote a sweet article about
Kaitlyn, her strength and her contagious optimistic view on life around her. In
the headline, she was described as a preteen.
That was her favorite realization and since then she often starts
sentences with, “well, since you know… I am a preteen.” We won’t ever forget
all the effort, love, support, and the turn out for Kaitlyn’s art show. Kaitlyn
slept through most of the art show, but she remembers the moment she woke up
like it just happened. She was so excited to see all her favorite people in one
room, and right next to her. All the
work people did to make it happen was incredible.
I still haven’t grasped the magnitude of Kaitlyn’s art show.
Seeing people I hadn’t seen in so long was incredible. The love and support in
that room was immeasurable. The visual of people coming in the door to see
Kaitlyn’s art was so comforting and completely inspiring. People who had read
the article showed up and shared their stories and why they came. Some had
friends or family with seizures or other medical stuff and were inspired by
Kaitlyn like they were by their loved ones. We’re all in this together. I
realize that over and over and clearly have to keep learning it. I don’t want
to accept what’s awful in this for Kaitlyn, but I do accept that she shows us
the good over everything else.
Part of why Kaitlyn slept so much at her art show was
because she was fighting this tube site infection. Her site was raw and oozy-
and it was hard at first to tell if it was infected, or just affected by the
tube. The tube itself had a leak- but since it’s a g/j tube and requires a
procedure to change it out- we were all hesitant and careful in deciding to
change it. Eventually we did get it changed in SF and it was just a night’s
stay. On our way to SF, I went through the coffee drive-thru to feel all
fancified before hospital time. Coffee really does taste better when someone
else makes it. The guy ahead of us paid for me. I was hoping it was because I
used a curling iron and brushed my hair and had lipstain from the dollar store,
but I read on the internet that this is what coffee line people do. So we paid
for the lady behind us, even if she didn’t have dollar store lip stain like me.
What fun that is! I think I’d like to spend more time in coffee lines. That
random nice thing he did for me made my day a lot better. When we got to SF, Kaitlyn
missed her brother like it had been weeks though- and she really didn’t like
everyone looking at her tube. This is a long drawn out story- but she’s still
fighting this exhausting site infection, and she still doesn’t like anyone
looking at it. It started getting a lot better, and now it’s oozy and painfully
ick again. I know we’ll figure it out, but I sure wish that was figured and
fixed already. She’s on antibiotics, creams, ice packs and lots of snuggles.
Dentist to Kai: “so buddy, how often are you flossing?”
Kai to dentist: “well, my mom flossed my teeth about an hour
before we got here.”
We finally made it to the dentist last week- I kept putting
that off and it was another thing that I felt terrrrrible about at night when I
get stuck in my thoughts and everything feels so big and endlessly bad and the
list of things I’m not doing right is very long. At Kai’s well check this
summer- I couldn’t check the yes- we routinely-go-to-the-dentist-every-6-months box, and I’ve felt so bad ever
since. It took a while before Kaitlyn finally woke up enough for x-rays but
they were all so patient and accommodating. The first 2 tries, we gave up- but
Kai was a great patient! Kaitlyn wasn’t a fan, but not because of anything to
do with her teeth, she’s just uncomfortable lately. We are flossing better now.
The dentist was so great with her, with
Kai, and with their weird mother in the corner. I was trying to explain why she
was crying- she’s seen new doctors this week and her tube hurts. Then I said,
‘and she thinks you’re a doctor’. Ooopsies. Dentists ARE doctors. I tried to
fix that, but I’m pretty sure I have a very earned flag in their file now. And,
for her next cleaning, the plan is I’ll go in another room.
“Can I get some hot chocolate in a paper cup, and pretend
it’s a cup-of joe, like at a real police meeting?” Kai
Kai’s 4th grade parent-teacher conference was
such a refreshing glimpse into Kai’s world. I worry so much about how
everything we balance affects him. Seizures scare him, he’s so close to Kaitlyn
and he worries a lot. I would do
anything to make this better for both of them. Kai often tells me he’s okay,
and when he worries, he tells me that too. His writing illustrates how he
thinks. He writes sentences every week for homework- they’re usually a
compilation of facts, or the way he views things-using his spelling words.
Reading those is a favorite part of my week. I worried too, that I’d have to
explain some of them at this parent-teacher conference. There’s almost always
an embarrassing mom fact he adds. Seeing him in his space at school helped calm
my mom nerves. He’s doing an incredible job balancing what he does and he’s a
confident, loving and sweetly serious kid. I am so thankful for him, for
Kaitlyn and grateful every day that I’m their mom. It’s not always comfortable,
but it’s an incredibly comforting experience.





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