He's Always Been Faithful...

Sunday was Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day. Well, I believe last Mother's Day was really my first and I got a few cards and lots of "Happy Mother's Day"s last year. But this year I was an obvious mother. My beautiful daughter was in my arms looking perfect and daughterly. 

I sang a special in church. A few months ago, I was at Keisha Brown's house, vocal jamming. She played this song for me which I vaguely recognized, but which spoke deeply to me. It is by Sarah Groves and the link to hear it is here: http://chadandkeishastory.wordpress.com/2009/09/22/hes-always-been-faithful-to-me/

My favorite hymn has been- for at least all of my adult life, if not all of my life- Great Is Thy Faithfulness. It is the perfect hymn to describe one of my favorite attributes of God. Man is anything but faithful- even the best of us fails. But God is perfectly faithful to all of his promises and to all of his children. I belt out that hymn every time with my entire being full of joy; especially at the last verse:

"Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide,
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessing all mine with ten thousand beside!"

When I heard the Sarah Groves song, I felt the same passion of joy that I do with my favorite hymn. I asked Keisha if I could sing it in church sometime before I move. She picked Mother's Day. It was pretty perfect and fit well with the sermon, as well. One hitch: I found that I had a hard time not crying while singing the last verse.

I am not a professional singer. Well... I did get paid once, so I often joke that I am technically a professional; but I do not make a living with my voice. I'm happy with the talent God gave me and more than willing to use it for Him, but I'm no [insert your favorite artist here]. I've always made it through a song, though. I have never choked. Until Sunday.

My MO is usually to listen to a song once or twice right away and then hold off practicing until the day before the performance. Maybe two days before, if it's a hard song. I feel that I make the least mistakes when it is fresh in my mind. This I did- but when I practiced on Saturday, I broke down the first two times through on the last verse. I got it by the third time and had no trouble when I reviewed it Sunday morning at home. However, when going through it with Keisha before service, I broke down again. It was always at the same line. I got it the second time and prayed a lot before service, hoping I would be alright. I talked to myself a lot, saying that it was all fine and good for me to feel such emotion, but there might be some people that actually needed to hear those words, so I had better be audible. 

The time came. Keisha asked me if I was OK. I thought I was, so I said, "Yes." But once again, at that same line, I began to cry- the hardest yet! Tears ran down my face and I didn't recover on the next line or the next! Keisha picked up for me until the last line, which we sang together.

The thing is, I was not embarrassed. I'm still not. This song is beautiful and because of my tears, I got to express the reason behind them to each person at church and now to you. The line I kept crying over is:

"God has been faithful, He will be again."

We are moving to Texas soon, leaving the Pacific Northwest probably for good. We have loved it here and God showed us his faithfulness very powerfully in bringing us to a wonderful church so quickly. We knew no one when we moved here and now we have some wonderfully close and lifelong friends. It happened without effort from us and with almost no waiting on our part. As we move to Texas, our hope and prayer is that He will do it again.

And, as the song says, He will.

Need a tissue?

And the Recover Goes On

Ah, the simple surgery... oxymoron. 

As you know, I recently had my gall bladder removed. It was pretty easy. I felt some pain afterward, but it was not severe and fairly short lived. The hardest part seemed to be that I wasn't allowed to lift my baby for two weeks. 

Since my last post, a few things have happened. 

I returned to work on Friday, May 4 after having been off for just over a week. I still ached a little bit when I would stretch or move wrongly, but I didn't feel I needed to stay home any longer. I worked eight hours on Friday and again on Saturday, both opening shifts. I spent most of the time as an expediter, trying not to touch the bar for fear of over exerting myself. Even though I was careful, I still hurt all day Sunday and Monday. I rested on Sunday and worked a 5 hour shift Monday, during which I tried to move as little as possible. By Tuesday morning, I was feeling alright again. 

Tuesday afternoon, I had my two week post-surgical check up. The doctor pressed on my belly, asked me to cough and pronounced me healed! I was now allowed to lift my baby again, which was a good thing, because she was in my arms when he entered the examination room.

Wednesday, Milli had her six month check up. My baby is six months old already! She had only grown 1/4 of an inch and gained a few ounces since her 4 month check up, taking her from the 90th percentile to the 50th. Average isn't bad, though. Studies show that exclusively breastfed babies grow quickly for the first four months and then slow down. Guess my baby is the statistic. That's OK with me. She is healthy and very happy, so all it good.

Thursday, Milli had an ophthalmologist appointment. She has a port wine birthmark on her cheek that can be an indicator of eye issues such as lazy eye (which I have), astigmatism (which I have), or glaucoma (which I do not have). She did wonderfully with everything, even the dilation and had so much fun playing on the toys in the waiting room. There was a toy like the inside of a car with a straddle seat that we had lots of fun with. At the end, she was given a clean bill of eye health and we left happy.

That entire week, I had been working. I was scheduled 37+ hours because we were shorthanded on shift supervisors. I was tired a lot and I began to feel a little extra sore. I avoided lifting anything until after Tuesday and still tried not to hurt myself on Wednesday. Thursday, I began to really hurt.

It began around 5pm. The dull pain in my back began to become very annoying indeed. Then, I began feeling it in my chest. My gall bladderless area was hurting a bit, but the back/chest was overpowering it. By 10:30, my husband was calling my boss to say I would not be working the next day. My pain level was at about a 7 out of 10 at that point. I was so tired, but Edward convinced me to get up and walk around a bit. I did and found that lying down hurt much, much worse. I paced until I felt I could lie down again. I slept for only a few hours but was awoken by the pain. I fed Milli and began to pace again. At 11am, the pain became intense and at noon we decided to go to the ER.

Hurray. Everyone loves a visit to the ER. 

I was well enough to drive, as long as I breathed deeply. When we got there, they immediately did an EKG to make sure my heart was good. I felt like I had been kicked in the chest by a Clydesdale. My back was killing me and my gall bladder area was throbbing. I changed into a gown and sat hunched forward and Indian style on the bed. Edward held Milli as I answered the medical history questions. 

Seven hours, two CT scans, and one cocktail later, I was released with a diagnosis of acid reflux disease. Carla Roland, that dear woman, came to get Edward and Milli around six so he could eat and she could go to bed. After being released, I went to Walgreen's to get my prescription and got home around eight. I had begun to feel better at the hospital before the fancy cocktail that numbed my throat and esophagus. Because of this, I did not trust the diagnosis- it wasn't the cocktail that made me feel better, which is why the doc said it was reflux. Regardless, I was home, feeling hungry and exhausted. I thanked Carla, hugged my husband, had a good cry and headed to bed. I had called work to let them know I was not going in the next day.

Saturday, I woke aching. I has a little oatmeal for breakfast and only a few sips of coffee. I knew it was on the "no-no" list, but I also knew if I didn't wean myself from it, I would have headache and nausea, as well as pain. I rested. Ed let me take a long nap on the couch. By the late afternoon, I was feeling better. We assumed the pills were working and decided to stick to the recommended foods list- no acids. I was feeling so good that my husband took me out for a pre-Mother's Day dinner. It was also Milli's half birthday. We went to Red Lobster, yum! I ate less than 1/2 my meal, but it was still very nice.

Sunday, I woke feeling much better. We went to church where I sang a song that made me cry. I'll put that in a second post. There was a luncheon after service which was high in fruit. I ate some of it, but tried to be careful. It didn't matter. By the late afternoon, I was feeling some pain again. I had my leftover Red Lobster later but the pain got worse and worse. I had called work in the early afternoon to tell them I would be in on Monday, but by 11pm, we were calling again to say I wouldn't. My dear husband had to brave the phone both times- he hates talking on the phone to anyone, but especially strangers.

Monday, I called the doctor. I got through to his nurse and she scheduled me for an appointment for Tuesday morning. I was in pain all of Monday.

Tuesday, I felt a little better. I had been sleeping sitting up on the couch in the office and eating next to nothing for two days. The doctor examined me quickly again and said that it probably was not acid reflux and that pain just happens after surgery. He did send me down for blood tests, saying that about 3% of people do have problems because a stone passed out of the gall bladder before removal and would be blocking the main bile duct. He thought it unlikely, though. 

I had my blood drawn and went home a little discouraged. Just a few hours later, the doctor called me to say that my tests were irregular and I needed to have the stone removed the next day! Within a couple hours I had an appointment for Wednesday afternoon. 

Wednesday I felt weak. I had had pain off and on, but every day, for almost a week. I had hardly eaten the two days before and was told to fast until after my procedure. I was drinking a lot of water but my skin was still turning yellow. Jaundice was setting in. I had almost no pain on Wednesday and slept a lot. We had a lunch date with Father Jerry set for that day, and even though I cold not eat, I went along. After lunch, he dropped me off at Sacred Heart and took my dear husband and daughter home. 

The pre-op always takes the longest. I arrived before two and did not have the procedure until about four. I was home by five. This procedure was not exactly an operation- there was no cutting involved. The doctor, who reeked of smoke, sent a scope down my throat and followed it with a tool that removed the stone. There were two, actually. The other one was around my pancreas. He said he also enlarged the opening of my bile duct so that any sludge that may have passed in could pass out more easily.

When I awoke from the procedure, I felt perfect! I expected some discomfort, maybe a dry throat and disorientation like last time- but nothing! I was as good as new! It was as easy as waking up in the morning. Yes, sometime this is harder than others; but it is still pretty easy. I went home with no special instructions: no "no-no" list of foods or activities. I could sleep lying down again! I cold drink coffee without fear! I could hold my baby!

Father Jerry picked me up from the hospital and delivered me home safely. My dear husband made me some food and took care of Milli for the rest of the evening! I couldn't feed her until the next afternoon, but she has a little milk (a very little) in the freezer that held her just long enough. We had to supplement with extra helpings of solid food, which she is still getting the hang of. 

That night, I had pie.

It is now Friday and I feel just right. My husband rejoiced that I was my old self and voiced his sadness about losing a bit of me to pain over the last week. To reward him for doing so much for me, we played one of his favorite online games yesterday and will again today. I'm just so glad it is all over. Now, I can focus on life again- on getting ready for a garage sale and move, and on everyday joys, like holding my little girl.

A big shout out of thanks to Father Jerry, Carla Roland, people at work who took my shifts, everyone who prayed for me, and especially, to my loving husband who takes such good care of me.