Day 1 - Surgery

L didn't want to eat last night. I tried a couple of times to interest him in taking a few more ounces but he refused. The bite-the-nipple-spit-out-the-milk-give-me-a-dirty-look-what-the-HECK-are-you-doing! refusal. Oooookay little buddy. You win. 

He woke up while we were getting him ready for surgery, but wasn't his normal hungry, fussy self. He was happy and content and fell asleep with T's magical baby whisperer touch. Answered prayer right there. So is the caliber of physicians and nurses caring for our son. Phenomenal people with phenomenal talent. Thank you Jesus. 

But waiting for your child to get out of complicated surgery performed by said physicians is one of the most unpleasant things I have ever done. Aside from going to the bathroom in a foreign country over a trough of running spring water while the woman squatting in front of you is pooping. Sorry for the visual. (Not really. Now you share my pain!)

I am so sick of TV and my phone and my iPad. I don't want to read a book or a magazine. I'm restless and exhausted and WORRIED at the same time. Walking only winds me up even more. Even my precious Stress Away doesn't help much. 

I can't take anymore so I pump. I pump for a loooooong time. And it works. My boy is out of surgery. It was successfully-fantastically-perfect. They didn't have to put a patch in his ventricles. His pericardium was sufficient. There are no conductivity issues at this time. His repaired valves look GREAT. Especially his mitral valve. We were told to expect leakage. Leakage is normal. There is NO LEAKAGE. We are BLESSED! 

Seeing L for the first time out of surgery is nothing compared to the waiting game I just played. And lost. Even with wires, and tubes, and beeps, and a vent he is beautiful, my boy. 
My beautiful, beautiful boy. And now the waiting game starts anew. 

Thank you Lord for protecting my son in the operating room. Thank you for guiding the hands of the surgeon who repaired his heart in such a complicated, meticulous surgery. Thank you for the other physicians and nurses that assisted in fixing my little boy's broken heart. Thank you for your tender mercies and grace. Thank you. 

We're ready

L has open-heart surgery scheduled for this Thursday, September 4th. I'm in denial. I'm TERRIFIED. Who can blame me? I look at my son's perfect little chest, unblemished and clear of wounds and scars. It's frightening and nerve-wracking to imaging the huge scar that will soon mar his perfect skin.

I think of his little heart inside this perfect chest, furiously pumping blood that isn't fully oxygenated through his growing body and I'm humbled. Humbled and convicted of my anger over the fact that he has to have this surgery and the desire for L to have a perfect chest and I'm READY. Ready for this to be over and for my son to be out of danger.

I know I'm not the first parent to feel this way. I know I won't be the last. I've found myself looking inward a lot more these days, doing a lot of self-reflecting. Asking myself the hard questions. 

What if? 

Could I handle complications?

Am I going to be strong enough not only for me, but for my husband and A as well? 

How am I going to keep it together when I see L for the first time after surgery??

WHY???????

Anxiety sets in. And so does reassurance.

Be anxious for NOTHING.

Behold, I am with you.

The Lord goes before you into battle.

Promises that will always be kept. Promises that will never be forgotten.

When we found out that L had Down syndrome, we grieved. We wept for the child we had expected to have and wept for the child we were receiving. Guilt over the grief followed, but it was soon replaced with determination, a search for knowledge and resources, and most importantly JOY. Our son was loved, no matter the outcome of the blood test or the ultrasound. These reactions were normal, but we didn't know it at the time. 

When the MFM decided that I needed to see a pediatric cardiologist, we were prepared. My husband, T, and I are both researchers. We look for every possible SCRAP of information as a way to find hope in hopeless situations. It's better to be educated than have a lack of knowledge, especially in situations like these.  The diagnosis came down of Complete Atrioventricular Canal Defect and we were ready. 

And so here we are. Months of appointments, tests, medications, uncertainty, and 
rescheduled,surgeries have finally come to this. 

We were ready. We ARE ready. 

So pray for us, friends. Pray for peace, trust, and REST. Pray for L's doctors and nurses and caretakers. Pray for his little body and amazing heart that has lasted this long with minimal intervention. 

Highs and Lows

It's been a rough week. Such a see-saw between beautiful highs and painful, gut-wrenching lows.

We celebrated my grandmother-in-law's 90th birthday last Saturday. Such a joyous day with family and friends! This petite, quiet woman lived through some amazing times in her life. Most of history as we know it has occured in her lifetime. (She shares Patrick Swayze's birthday. Very important event.)

We also suffered the loss of a loved one, someone very dear to my heart. My husband's brother lost his painful, tiring, and courageous battle with bone marrow cancer. We were aware that death was a distinct possibility, but the event was a surprise and extremely painful nonetheless. As I sit and process this event, I'm reminded why I loved him and why he'll always have a special place in my heart.  Alec was a sweet, wonderfully generous man with a warm heart. He made an impression and impacted lives everywhere he went. He was an adventurer at heart; Alec traveled all over the world and lived for a while in Denmark as an exchange student. His passion was gourmet cooking and restoring old homes - 59 of them to be exact. Some of his greatest work lives on in places such as The Mintz Mansion in Phoenix, AZ. He was loved by brothers, sisters, aunts, nephews, nieces, and friends. He lived a full life, much like his grandma. He also had his share of disappointment and refining. During the height of his careers, Alec made more money than he knew what to do with. He was generous to a fault, taking care of others who needed help at the drop of a hat. He traveled extensively, and indulged in antiqueing (which he was very good at). But during the recession of 2008 he lost it all. After hitting rock bottom, he reevaluated what was important and realized that people, not things or money, were what he cherished. He lived his life from that point on in a simple manner, shunning possessions and valueing the time he spent with those he loved. He was always the first person anyone wanted to talk to and gave sage advice, full of experience and wisdom. He was loved. He was cherished. He will be missed.

And so, my second blog post has nothing to do with oils, or babies, or Down syndrome. It has everything to do with two precious people in my life whom I love very much.

Until next time, friends.

Alec Tanner (AKA Michael Groeneveld)

November 11, 1967 - August 18, 2014

For more information about bone and bone marrow cancer, please go to cancer.org/bonecancer.


                         

Journey to oilyness

I have been considering starting a blog for a long, long time. I have been blessed to have some amazing experiences in my life. I have travelled through Europe with a choir, rode a Mongol horse on the borders of Kazakhstan, China, Mongolia, and Russia, and played with my band in New York after winning a national battle of the bands contest just to name a few. Life has been good.

I have been married for 5 years to my husband, T, and we have two beautiful children. A is 3 going on 14 (no lie), a sassy pants, and the most compassionate, intelligent girl. L is 4 months and a precious, precious blessing. He has Down syndrome, a severe heart defect, hearing issues, and is the sweetest baby. We live in a small town just outside of Sioux Falls, SD. Farm Country, USA. Life so far has been pretty darn good.

After finding out that I was pregnant with A, I found myself gravitating towards more natural and homemade solutions for simple things such as laundry detergent, cleaning solutions, and nutrition. I have always been a more "natural" kind of girl. One of my former roommates is a midwife and natural living guru. She introduced me to some great things, such as reusing water bottles (hello Nalgene), eastern medicine (chinese herbal tinctures rock!), yoga, the power of massage and the idea that life could be lived in a simpler, more natural way. Her desire to be free of unnatural products and additives in her life planted a seed that continues to grow to this day. My husband, T, and I started a fully organic garden at his parent's farm. We looked into cloth diapers, homemade wipes, and natural birth options. I didn't want my child to be exposed to the toxins that were considered generally safe. Safe for whom?? Remember the lead Chinese toys fiasco much?? Being put into a position of such control over what we used on a daily basis - and the ease with which we could make them - pushed me to investigate how else we could revolutionize our lifestyle.

I was introduced to Young Living Essential Oils last spring by my high school friend LIndsay Moreno. She had been posting about these oils she was using on her kids to help sleeping issues, bug bites, headache relief, and cleaning solutions. I was intrigued (anyone who knows me knows I love me some natural cleaning products. Oh yeah!) and kept following her posts. One day she posted that she was struggling in a bad way with kidney stones and was taking what she called a "Morphine Bomb," basically a mix of essential oils with a carrier oil in a gelatin capsule. The name comes from the effects of the oils on your system - it basically gives natural pain relief. I was even more intrigued. The idea of not having to use pain medication that can adversely affect your kidneys or liver appealed to me greatly. The next month she posted about a new, upgraded member kit that came with a cute diffuser and 11 oils. I did a little research and found out that I couldn't beat the price and I REALLY wanted to give oils a try. (I am a secret patchouli lover. I was born in the wrong decade.)  So I took the plunge.

I received my kit in the beginning of September and boy, was I STOKED. I whipped out my new diffuser and put some of this oil called Peace and Calming in there and shared it with my fam. Turns out I'm really the only one who likes patchouli. Ha! I started researching the oils and REALLY wanted to buy some more but - surprise surprise! - found out I was pregnant the following week.

L was born on April 29th, 2014, two weeks before his due date. He was a good baby. I'm talking REALLY GOOD. As much as A loved her "baby bruver" she started acting out. BAD. It only got worse when we moved back home to SD. I knew deep down that this behavior was subconscious and a result of being an only child for 3 1/2 years. We struggled with going to sleep, eating, attitude, physical violence, and overall general bad behavior. We were at our wits end. We were considering a behavioral therapist and knew it was inevitable that medication would come into play. We didn't want this for our sweet child. (I am VEHEMENTLY against medicating children with manageable behavior issues. It is a LAST resort, not a first option. Another blog post, another day.) I was scrolling through good ol' Facebook one day and came across a post about a mom who was having the same problem with her son. She had been able to help him improve his behavior without medication. How? These magic essential oils that were burning a hole in my nightstand drawer. Needless to say THIS GOT MY ATTENTION.

I researched and researched and finally decided to take the plunge. I ordered some more oils, did some more research and here we are. I AM ADDICTED. A's behavior has improved. I've been able to use these oils to get away from chemical cleaning solutions. I made all-natural bug spray THAT WORKS. I've been able to help my husband with a chronic issue in his ears. His athlete's foot is nearly gone. I'm working on getting off my medication for post-partum depression. We sleep better (Hallelujah!). I have also been able to help others. This stuff works, peeps. It works well. So here I am. Here we are. We are officially an oily family. Every day I thank God that these amazing little vials of precious, life-saving liquid were brought into our lives. They are truly life-changing.

Until next time, my friends.