Getting Healthy: It's 5 am

My motherhood duties beckon me this morning at 5am. Not much sleep for the weary here. I comfort my youngest with a cozy blanket, a sippy cup of water in his crib and two rounds of "Twinkle Twinkle." Hoping to get at least another hour of sleep, I sneak back into bed with a heavy, sleeping husband who arrived home just two hours prior. Not being able to sleep next to his "deep sleep," I decide to take the treadmill for a whirl. Thanks for encouragement from Ray-Mau ;) I FINALLY listened to a saved podcast from three weeks ago!!!

My twenty-minute treadmill "speed" walk ended with my 4.5 year old startling me as she walked into my workout. It's now 5:40am and all three of my children are up....what is wrong with this!?! They used to sleep until 7am!! Seriously, can someone tell me if this is normal...I mean really...is it? Momma thought 5am would be a "safe" time to have some alone time. I am letting my 2 year old babble in his crib; I hear my 3 year old moving around in his bedroom but I DARE NOT check on him or game over; I sent my 4.5 year old back to her room for at least another 20-25 minute.

What I am doing is important. It is not only important for me but for my children as well. They need me to be healthy as much as I need me to be healthy. I am learning to be okay with this. I need to advocate for myself within my family so that I can be healthy.

FOCUS-- okay. So as I was walking I also realized that my "getting healthy" is trifold:

1. Spiritual Health
2. Emotional Health
3. Physical Health

For me, these areas are very much interconnected. Since the fall of 2018 I have been lacking in my spiritual health, unable to find a Bible Study or connection group that my little-ducklings can also be well taken care of while I am fed. I have not gotten into a routine at home that is sustainable yet I do teach my children daily about Jesus...for the next month we are focusing on the Fruit of the Spirit through song, craft and service. I guess in a way I am being feed through these activities. It just looks different from what I want it to me. (I am looking for suggestions, though....always! of a solid connection group I can join).

I am thankful I am once again emotionally healthy-ish after the last two years of dealing my "trauma-birth-brain."

And my physical health, point number three, which will be the main focus of this blog series with touches of the other two areas. I am so excited that I now have the mental space to be able to take care of myself and recognize my three "needs" areas.

BRASS TACKS:
Successes so far (okay, it has only been about 24-ish hours since making this declaration of getting healthy, but small successes compile to achieve the WHOLE goal!):

• I did two short workout videos yesterday (& my arms are now sore--VICTORY) and I did a treadmill walk this morning...maybe I can sneak a "goodnight" walk into my schedule 10 minutes before I go to bed!
• I ate soooo many veggies yesterday! I still have a VERY painful tooth so the thought of crunching veggies or consuming cold, juicy baby tomatoes is terrifying. BUT I did it....cucumber "sticks" YUM, sliced baby tomatoes in hummus, carrot chips---much easier to crunch.
• I drank water! After afternoon "rest time" (ha!), during dinner and during the Grey's Anatomy season finale. I love my water bottle. That makes drinking fun.

Facing today (well the rest of it):

• Limiting carbs (like unneeded crackers while my kids are snacking)
• Limiting extra dairy (sneaks of cheese slices)
• MORE veggies and MORE water

Okay, it is now 6:15am. I can no longer hold back the forces. Time to wakey-wake.

I hope you feel encouraged today too!


 

Getting Healthy: Just getting started

I just closed a two-year chapter/blog series titled "Growing a boy" on the challenges of dealing with a son born prematurely who was close to dead at birth. As I have finally closed that emotional chapter, finding healing in more ways than one. Now, I am ready to move on. I am starting a new chapter...a new chapter with passion, a little motivation and just a little more determination to come against my excuses. I want to be physically healthy again.

Here are the challenges:

• A husband with an irregular work schedule making it difficult to find time away from the kids to exercise. 
• I work full-time (yes it is online but it still requires a lot of my time/attention amidst kids activities and husbands schedule). Like working out, I feel like I have to squeeze my job into our already crazy/tight schedule. 
• Three children ages 4, 3, 2 who are relentless and need constant supervision. Working out with them is next to impossible without tripping over them and hurting myself (or them).
• Sleep deprivation: Even though my kids are a little "older" I am exhausted at the end of the day (to the point of being an almost angry mother at bedtime --Dear Lord, PLEASE HELP ME!). At least one of the three kids awakes during the night; the husband comes home between 1-3a (usually waking me up) and then our brood is up at 6am. I have been trying to get to bed by 9:30pm on most nights...it seems to be helping. Naps were an option but now 2 out of the three are on a nap protest (& quiet time turns into a fight...why do I EVEN TRY to have some alone time in the afternoon...okay, sometimes I just let them fuss in their room & tell them that momma needs a time out).
• Food: Let's be honest, I eat what my kids eat and snack on what they snack on. Husband is not home most nights so I end up snacking for dinner after the kids are asleep. True confession: the other night I have popcorn and ice cream for dinner. Winner winner! ;)
• Another food challenge: I don't like to cook (& don't really know how to get out of my norm and/or make food everyone in my family will eat or enjoy. I really don't want to waste my efforts...but maybe I should?).

Excuses (see above and below!):

• For the first year of our youngest son's life, I was overwhelmed, burdened and stressed (to say the least) due to his eventful (for the lack of a better word) entrance into this world. Two years ago April, I was in survival mode.
• After this first year, I told myself it was time to reclaim my health...in August 2018 actually. In doing so, I took a smoke-stack tower fall, straight over onto my left hip on our tiled kitchen floor while "trying to fit" exercise in while my youngest was contained in the highchair. After a round of physical therapy in December-February, I finally felt relief in my lower back. 
• But then, the excuse of "we just moved" crept in in November and I have stayed there until recent.

Motivations:

• I want to get healthy so that I can hike with my husband, run & play sports with my kids and enjoy the calm kayaking waters without pulling a muscle.
• I am TIRED of carrying this two-year postpartum baby weight (and wearing maternity shorts, baggy shirts and stretch pants because 1) I have them and 2) because nothing else really fits well (or comfortably).
• Exercise and wellness are legacies I want to leave for my children. I want them to see their mother working out and eating well...not for the sake of appearance but for the sake of taking care of the temple (my body) given to me by the Lord. It is my responsibility to take care of my body.
• AND....My doctor said so. Okay...I may have probed her just a little at my recent annual check-up (which has actually been TWO years) to hear her say that I need to lose weight but I guess it helped since I am writing this new blog series. Very kindly my doctor say that I am overweight....but closer to normal-overweight than obese-overweight (phew!). But the real kicker---she told me is is much harder to lose weight the older you get. Wow! I just turned 37 (seems old to me!) so I may as well shed some weight and enter into the "normal-normal" range. 

What's going for me:

• YOU! My reading audience in whom I'm hoping will encourage me in this process with easy favorite, healthy family recipes, encouragement to workout, etc.
•  Spring/Summer: In the recent sunny days, I have enjoyed pushing our youngest in the stroller while the "big kids" rode their bikes. Bonus: everyone enjoyed it especially with a destination like a play park at the end.
• My husband works night. (Yes, this is both a challenge and a "what's going for me"). I have the time after the kids go to bed to workout...now...I just need to get over my almost-anger-super-exhausted-mom persona and (as Nike says) JUST DO IT!
• I have Amazon and the internet.  I lost my 21-Day-Fix Workout videos in the move (anyone have them I could borrow?!?!) but I did find a pretty good workout program on Amazon. With the help of the internet, I have access to PLENTY of healthy food programs. I am thinking about trying the 21-Day-Fix eating plan again. I did this after my first child and lost a decent amount of weight and felt great. It was very adaptable to my food allergies too.

Plan of attack:

• I don't have one...okay, I have one kinda in my head and here it is:
• Blogging my journey for accountability (wanna join me?).
• Food prep...should I start tonight (but it is the season finale of Grey's Anatomy!).
• Exercise: Make it a goal to be active every day with two or three intention workouts per week. This I can do...I can push my kids to be a little more active: kicking a ball with them, running around the "track" in our house and going on walks.
• Simple, right? Well let's see where this one goes..... to be continued.

Growing a boy: I'm not celebrating

I am not celebrating! I have given myself permission.

After all the definition of celebrating is "acknowledging a significant or happy day or event with a social gathering or enjoyable activity."

But do all "significant" days really need to be remembered, celebrated?

No, they do not.

I am coming to terms with this.

Over the last two years with Oliver, we have had many significant events and happy moments (and a few not so happy moments). Many of these significant days, happy days even, are joined with hard moments, tough decisions and feelings of loss.

Initial, I wanted to celebrate ALL of them...the day he was transferred to Seattle Children's, his surgery day, the first day I kissed him, the first day I held him, the day his breathing tube was removed, the first holiday we were all together, his transfer day (back to Tacoma), and his homecoming day (just to name a few).  The last two April's I have remembered and recounted every detail from my initial hospitalization to everything listed above to his "fight" today. I realized that I don't need to hold on to these things, these "icky" emotions of these milestones.

I need to take the reminders off my calendar. I need to let go and be present with him and our family. For me, it is unhealthy to dwell on the hardships of his birth and months thereafter. Dwelling on these hardships did not promote healing but rather the opposite. It became my focus, shifting my mood to sadness and anxiety. It closed my eyes to the glories right in front of me (and what glories they are!).

I am not saying that it is wrong to remember...that is why I have about 3-4 Shutterfly books outlining the entire story of our boy. Isn't that enough? The timeline is outlined in such detail. Almost every day of the first two months of his life are recorded. Pictures of his first year of life are thoughtfully arranged. Because of this, my mind no longer needs to dwell on these things. I do not need to keep this information in the forefront of my mind any more (because it is already recorded!).

"Why" is the question that kept popping up in my mind...why did I feel the need to keep these moments, these milestones so close to my heart? Then I realized, putting the puzzle pieces together of my own life. When I was an infant, I had a few surgeries too: one for my back to remove some type of abnormal growth and another which enabled me to see. That is all I know. I don't know many of the details of the things that happened to my body. The technology was different when I was born too.  With many family moves, I am sure these records were lost along the way. I have lingering questions about the surgeries I had as a child. In some ways I think I have been overcompensating for the lack of knowledge of my past by trying to capture every fact, every moment and every "level"of our sweet son. Will he care about these details? I have no idea. That shouldn't be the point. As his mom, I have tried (too hard) to remember these details for him...this is a burden that I shouldn't carry anymore. The documentation is there. I have stacks of his medical records. I have a box full of important artifacts, all labeled in case he is curious and the ample supply of digital scrapbooks.

And that. is. that.

I am releasing myself from the drive to remember, this desire to want to celebrate. Instead, I CHOOSE to live NOW...to see him as he is and not how he was (despite his on going therapy). His birth should not define me or him.

It has taken two years to come to this point. It has taken many conversations, some counseling sessions, blogging and even "celebrations" to come to terms with this. It feels good. As a family, we have decided to have "family day" around the day of his surgery -- not to celebrate his surgery but to celebrate the fact that we are a family of five. We are healthy and we are together (and that is enough!).

Grief, loss and tragedy are "funny" things...no one can tell you, really, how to handle them (even if you ask, everyone has an opinion). The best thing to do is to allow yourself to go through the process, seek help, talk about it and trust your instinct on what feels right to "celebrate" and what does not. It is okay to give yourself permission not to talk about it too (not in a "I don't want to deal with it" way but rather in a "I have moved on and don't need to keep bringing it up" way). So....I **think** this concludes my blog series "Growing a boy." That is not to say, I won't every talk about this super-huge and traumatic life event again, but it is to say that I am moving on. I am healing. I have discovered new things about myself through this process. I have learned new things about God. I have learned new things about how to better serve my community because of this experience. I have a deeper understanding and sensitivity with others who have also dealt (or are dealing) with challenging events with children or family members. For all of these reasons, I am grateful for this experience. Our sweet son has allowed me to learn so much about myself and those around me and now....and now I move forward.

Thank you all for your love and support during this long, hard two year (and ongoing) adventure of parenting a preemie baby (who is now a VERY active and fierce toddler). Thank you for listening, for your words of encouragement and your practical support. Praise be to God for all He has done in our midst. A chapter closed...finally. Looking forward to the many more to come.

Maranatha. 

Growing a boy: traumatic event-anniversaries

I am suppose to be working right now (two kids are in preschool and the nanny is watching the other) yet all I can Google is "how to deal with traumatic events" and "traumatic event-anniversaries." Why can't I just get over it already. I am done processing, re-living and re-hashing the details two years ago....but I am compelled.

I prayed that Jesus would just sit with me and let me cry on His shoulder. Maybe that is just what I need? It seems so silly in many ways...our son is fine. I am fine. We are fine. I just don't understand why these emotions are so big and so real and so in my face.

I need to focus. I have a million things to do this week. My mind is full.

April use to be my favorite month...my birthday month. I am privileged to share this birthday-month with my youngest son but now the first few weeks (or more) of the month are spent dealing with the grief of the traumatic events two years ago. I don't even care much about my birthday any more but rather just want it to pass so that we can move into May...the "happy month."

It is a weird season where my head and heart don't agree. It is a season of contradiction and unexpected emotions. It is a season that I feel I burden people with my story---does anyone even care? Are people tired of me bringing it up? Tired of me talking about the same old story over and over? Maybe these are untruths but it is my fear in my grief that cause me to not want to talk about my story. I don't want people to "feel bad" for me but rather join me in the journey. I want people to ask me about it...to ask and listen with genuine care. Yet, again, I don't want to burden those around me with another "sob story" with a happy ending.

I am thankful for a place, like this, to express my raw emotions. To process through. A place to put my thoughts and a place to ask for prayer. I am not even sure if anyone reads what I write but for me, it is important to share this journey. Many others, I am sure, have experienced these same emotions to a degree. You are not alone. Jesus is with you! I am sure there is a community eager to hear your story...so share! Find a way to share. YOUR story is important. Your story is not who you are, your identity) but rather a part of who are are becoming as these events shape your actions. So who ever is reading this, leave encouraged. Leave knowing that none of us are alone. Leave with the love of Jesus resting upon you for HE is the great healer. HE will redeem these "icky" moments and make them glorious in His own way (only if we allow Him).

In peace and trust-
~B~

Growing a boy: My son was so close to death today

Today at 9am, marks two years since the life saving lung-removal operation for our son. It is an emotionally charged day. I woke up this morning anticipating that this day may be hard and recalled, "my son was so close to death today. Today, he was as good as gone." Whether that was the truth or not (since I am clearly not a medical professional but rather a heart-torn mom), those were the thoughts that crossed my mind two-years ago and remain with me. Today in church, they played the song that I heard on the radio the day I was driving down to bring our son home...tears. They played a song about the air in our lungs--which God clearly GAVE Oliver...tears. Tears being reminded of the painful moments leading up to surgery day. Tears of joy when we heard our son made it through surgery and was doing well.

On the outside, I may appear well but inside my heart is breaking and mourning. I remember almost every detail of surgery day so clearly--how I felt, the weather outside, what I wore, the "trolley" "comfort cart" that came to visit us in the waiting room during the surgery. These powerful, humbling, sad moments are still present. I remember watching the clock wondering when we would hear anything about our son's surgery progress. I remember searching for the same word over and over again in my "word search" unable to focus. Moving forward to present...

How do I reconcile this day that happened two years ago with our son's now amazing progress? Today he is happy, mostly healthy (besides the colds that rattle his chest) and meeting many of his adjusted-age milestones (besides fine motor skills).

I DO NOT want this season of his life--his amazing birth, life-saving surgery to define him, to become who he is BUT....but, it will forever be part of my journey. How do I process these events, these milestones without projecting them on him? The day I was admitted to the hospital in the end of March; the day we learned he had hydrops; the moment we were told he had 50% chance of survival; the day he was born and the horrific unknowns that were laid before us. How do I deal with days/milestones like today--surgery day-- and his upcoming "breathing day" when his breathing tube was removed and he cried for the first time? These moments are part of my journey (and his too) but I just don't know how to handle them...where to put those emotions. How do I "celebrate" them without these moments becoming our son's identity?

Over time I am sure it will get better. I certainly try not to dwell on this past history but somehow my body remembers and my mind quickly catches up. My body reacts to things like my daughter's dress I was trying to donate, which is clearly too small, but I just couldn't bring myself to donate...why? It was the dress she wore when she visited her brother for the first time two-years ago. So, the dress remains hanging in her closet. Weird and strange things like this pop-up unexpectedly. I guess it is part of the process. This season set aside, we are doing well. Outside this concentrated few months, we hardly think about the details leading up the this day. But in this season, we are brought back to the place were God did a miracle...where God heard us and answered our prayers in astounding ways. I am thankful for this hard season of reflection because how could we NOT praise God for what He did? It was only by His grace and favor that our son lives today. We were ready to accept that our son would be with Jesus but God had another plan. It is a reminder of how close were were to HIM and how HE desires us to be close with Him like that in every day, in every season and in every way. It is convicting; it is good and it is a blessing to have this day--surgery day--to point is all back the the Creator. He truly is in control of life and death and today--two years ago--He choose LIFE for our son. I will forever sing HIM praises for this and share this story of God's great love and great intervention.

Growing a boy: HE SURVIVED

With each passing year it is easy to celebrate the fact that as parents we have kept our child alive for another year. But what is so significant about celebrating our youngest is a fact that he has survived… Against all odds… another year.


Not only is he surviving, he is THRIVING! Surpassing milestones and proving every day that God has transformed his life in immeasurable ways since before his inception. 

It is easy in the season to reflect on the hardships leading up to delivery. It is still emotional but as I reflected on a walk this morning… I was reminded of just how big our God is and how he speaks to us so personally. 

Oliver‘s birthday is a memorial stone for me. A day to celebrate and rejoice friendship, community, family and a God who is so big… So unfathomable... that I just can’t help but leap for joy, raise my hands in praise and REJOICE. 

We go into this second year of life helping Oliver threw a little cold… Using the nebulizer and wondering if his lungs are OK. Wondering how his x-ray results will turn out. Questioning the use of his right leg and hand… But he is laughing, just started jumping with both feet and throws a ball more accurately than his mama ever could. He brings so much joy; making us a family of five. Together in God‘s presence. It is a joy and a privilege to continue this epic journey of parenthood to a two-year-old toddler. 

Today, (the scary day before his delivery just two years ago), I mourn but I also rejoice. It is so wonderful to be reminded of our GREAT God. We give HIM praise for the past two years and look expectantly to the future HE has for this crazy, fierce little boy.

Happy Birthday Eve, OSH.

Growing a boy: Two Years Later

Almost two years have passed since that fated day of our youngest child's birth. This time of year, March leading into April, still holds many emotions for me. I am told that the strong emotions from such a tragic event will ease with each passing year but to-date it still feels fresh.

My mind is flooded with the physical pain my body endured two-years ago (the water-balloon in my tummy that held my sick little boy). I remember the contractions, the weight of the fluid, waddling because of the weight, hardly being able to stand. I remember being admitted to the hospital for the first time: prepping my spring quarter classes from the hospital bed and the relief from the jetted bathtub in the room. I remember being discharged after receiving steroid shots for my unborn baby's lungs and the medication that was suppose to stop my heavy contractions. I remember still not knowing what was wrong with my boy.

Laying on the couch back home, coming to terms with that fact that I would most likely deliver a "NICU baby." The worst though, was the re-admission into the hospital...being told I would not leave until my baby was born (and the separation this would cause between me and my other two children). The words, "Your son has some type of birth defect but we just don't know what it is" still burn in my mind. The nurses who would have to "sit cozy" with me for an hour at a time just to get a heart reading on my son and the final decision....the words, "your son has 50/50 percent of survival." Seriously, what do you do with those words? They still effect me today. I won't even go into the emotions of when his cord was cut and his chances of survive dropped to 1% or less...oh, yeah...and the unplanned trip 45-mintues North my son took (with daddy) via ambulance while I had to stay put and the decision to cut open my son's chest at day 5 as a "last ditch effort to save him." I just can't go there right now.

Nothing about that time two years ago was easy. Yes, I now have a healthy, thriving boy, but his birth still haunts me. The moments of being torn between my son in Seattle and our two other 45-min south in our hometown. To this day I question if I "did it right" leaving one child to be with the other two OR leaving the two to be with the one child. We did the best we could do.

I fight the thoughts/fears that I was not "nice" to our friends or appreciative of them. Was I really a bad friend? Was I ungrateful? Did I express my appreciation enough? Ask forgiveness enough? Push people away or expected too much? Keep everyone in the loop enough? A lot of "icky" feelings surround this period of my life...feeling like I failed-- that I just did not do it "right" (whatever that really means).

It has been two years of healing. Up until his 15-month milestone, our boy still required so much of us medically, emotionally and physically. It really has just been in the past 8 months that he has been a "normal" little boy. EIGHT MONTHS! Not very long, actually (for the first time, right now, I did this math...eight months). What a fight it has been. I still struggle losing my baby weight (which I beat myself up for on a daily basis). I struggle to recognize that I truly did the best I could during this season of life (& whether my best was really good enough).  I struggle trying to parent three children so close in age with the added task of continuing home physical therapy "games" and activities to help our youngest use his right side (hand & foot) consistently.

Life is hard. I know we all have seasons that are difficult and painful events that happen. This season for just happens to be my trigger. I am thankful the Lord is always with me and that HE speaks truth to my heart and soul. Without Him, I would be completely lost. I thank God almost daily for what he did on April 2 and the days leading up to and the days following. It is a memorial stone for me to reflect back on His grace and mercy in my life...how close I felt to Him during that time and how He spoke so clearly to me on the OR table, "Brandi, I giveth & taketh away. You have to be okay with that, okay?" God's words spoken directly to my heart help me have a new view on the life I live. Thank you Jesus that you are my Healer and with each passing year you heal my soul just a little more. Praise be YOUR name forever.  Amen