Chain, not Change

This, my friends, is a reminder that JR leads a "normal" life outside the confinements of my bed and couch. Although I worry to death about how my bed rest is affecting her, and I am sure it is, knowing that she still "rings" gifts me a sense of relief and a smile.

Every child has a tradition, a favorite quirk that sets them apart from others, something that it theirs and theirs alone. JR has this water pipe chain that hangs above the landing to our apartment. Ever since she was able to reach it, her routine has been to stop, jingle it (although it makes no noise) and then continue about her way. Interestingly, she does that only on her way back home and hardly, if ever, on the way out. I wonder if that is because on the way out, the installation is to her back and she cannot really see it where as on the way in it is at her eye level. The other interesting observation is that she does not do it on other floors, like when we take the stairs up to our neighbors, but only on ours. Does she get some sense of comfort, belonging, ownership of it being there? Does it mark her territory? Does it evoke home?

I have not seen her "ringing" the chain in over 5 weeks, and almost forgot about it. I did not even think she was still interested in it.The times I have been out, I have been wheeled to the elevator and back, and thus missed noticing whether or not this was still part of her routine. So, when Jeff sent me a photo of it the other night, it came as a stark reminder that some things don't change. 

"Just Josie"

"This is Josie. Her full name was Josephine Emily, but everyone just calls her Josie." These are the opening words to one of JR's favorite books:  Just Josie and the Perfect Day. It is also one of my favorites. I picked it up on clearance at the bookstore and have not stopped loving it since then.

JR and I would huddle on the couch, or cuddle in bed, and read it time and again. We have read it so many times, in fact, that JR knows the words to the book herself. It light and humerous, with easy to grasp vocabulary and ideas. From it, kids can walk away learning about taking a "deep breath" and "count(ing) to ten." They will also learn that while a day may not start out the way they had pictured it, it may still have a happy ending. A little patience and a change in perspective can bring on a rainbow.

Josie had her mind set up on the perfect birthday party, but then things start going wrong. She tries to handle the situation as best as a kid can, and in my opion Josie did a good job working through the challenges, but as things worsen she has her meltdown. Rather than get upset with her, though, her mother helps her look out the window to see the beautiful rainbow that had just formed through the rain and the clouds.

Just Josie may be more fitting for a girl reader with all the talk about hair and clothes and shoes, but the lessons it portrays are gender-neutral. The book has since been discontinued but you can purchase it for your Kindle here.

The things we (don't) see

Remember the glass door? Well, it is still painted, and considering my situation it will probably remain that way for a long time still. But that is all good, really. I have been staring so much at that door that I am starting to "see things," things I would have otherwise missed or dismissed. Pretty things, fun things, imaginative things. It turns out that if you sit still long enough, and look, things just come to you without you having to look for them. Wow! The magic of silence.

The Story: What happens next ~ First Miscarriage

The story continues.

The months passed. JR grew and we grew with her.

One day in the Fall of 2010, JR and I were spending a day like any other: enjoying each other’s company, laughing and playing. Then, I started to bleed. It was a surprise, no strike that, it was a shock. I was nursing and this was no time for my period to be returning. But it was not my period. It was heavier and scarier. I was on foot; Jeff had the car. But I needed to get to the doctor. I put JR in the stroller, called my dad to put him on back-up alert, and took the 20 minute walk over the Key Bridge to Georgetown to pick up the car. We made one stop on the way during which my fears worsened; I was bleeding uncontrollably and the pad was not keeping up with the flow. On our way to the doctor we stopped and picked up my had and ten minutes later we were sitting in the doctor’s office. Poor JR had had such an eventful morning that she fell asleep in her Jeddo's lap while I was being checked.

Weight. Pulse. Blood pressure. Urine sample. Pregnancy test. It was positive. I had been pregnant and now I am not. I was having a miscarriage. I was in total shock, I did not even know I was pregnant to start with. Tears came to my eyes, but I held them back. It was only later that the severity of the situation hit me; I had lost a child, what would have then been my second.

A quick backward glance later revealed that I should have suspected I was pregnant and that the doctor I saw at the time should have done a more thorough job examining me. I remember a random summer day when I felt nauseous, queasy and light-headed. I almost fainted. I called my OB who told me to call my PCP. The PCP ran a number of tests then attributed my condition to “fatigue.” The PCP ran tests on this and that, but failed to run a pregnancy test. I still wonder to this day if the outcome would have been different had he ran that one seemingly unnecessary test and found out the real culprit behind my dizziness.

This part of the story would also have had a better ending had it ended there. But the pregnancy did not want to terminate itself naturally and I had to be hospitalized for a D&C. I was so traumatized. I was nursing and was so worried about how the surgery was going to affect my supply. Luckily it did not.

That D&C was fortunately uneventful, as so far as a D&C can be. Shortly after the procedure, we were discharged and home we went. But our Thanksgiving celebration was brought to an end. We did not have a Thanksgiving that year. And since then, Thanksgiving has not had the same meaning of feeling. To some extent I have been avoiding it like the plague, finding ways and reasons not to be at home or by ourselves for it. Life went on as usual. And while JR’s presence brought immense happiness and joy, some sadness never left me. The OB tried to persuade me to give up nursing in order to sustain a second pregnancy but I would not have it. I continued to nurse and wear JR religiously. I may have done it with even more passion after the incident.

We carried on, until...

Just keep walking...

JR's Lemon Tree of Friendship

 

 

JR's Lemon Tree of Friendship sprouted as the perfect conclusion to her Lemon Tea Party. I wanted the party to have a craft segment after the food and the drinks were consumed. I also wanted this craft to be meaningful, not just pens and stickers on paper that would eventually end up being recycled. I wanted to preserve the art and the memory. I wondered if the girls could produce an art that could then be used as decoration. I slept on the idea, and woke up to the Lemon Tree of Friendship.

 

Originally, the tree was going to be painted on a poster board and nailed to the wall in the spare room. I wanted the display to be "mobile." But, after further research and consideration I abandoned the idea; I could not find the dimensions I was after, and transporting art on card stock every time we moved was not practical.

 

Painting was my second option. We rent our condo, so I hesitated before I went down the painting route. What if our landlord objected? But, what if we did not even ask in advance! Bingo! We had already asked him if we could paint the spare room a different shade, and he had agreed to that, so why not take the chance on more paint on decorations. And, so it was.

 

After looking up a pattern online and enlarging it to the maximum dimension I could, I started my project. I had not painted anything before beyond what we did at school as kids. Art is not one of my talents. So, I was a little nervous when all I had to work with was a sheet of paper lying to my side, a plain wall, and brown tempera paint and a brush. I outlined in pencil. It looked good enough. I took the brush to the wall. And, I was taken in. I could do this. It was fun. And, it was rewarding. To see the finished product was worth the try.

 

And so, at the end of the evening we had our tree. All it needed was its fruit and leaves. Enter the girls. At the party, each girl decorated and labelled her own set of lemon and leaf. Then, JR and Mama taped each pair along with its corresponding name tag to the wall. With that JR got her Lemom Tree of Friendship and a lasting memory of a wonderful party and wonderful friends.

 

When we move, the lemons, leaves and name tags will come with. JR and I will paint a new trunk and branches, put the tree back together, and reminisce about the days gone by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lessons from Bed: Rules to Live By

I don’t do Halloween. Jeff doesn’t like it either. So, once we had our own family we decided Halloween was one of many celebrations we were not going to take part in; the others being Santa, New Year’s Eve, the Easter Bunny, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s day, and others not directly related to our system of beliefs. Although we have our version of Halloween in Lebanon called Eid el Berbara, celebrated on December 4th, in all my childhood years I remember having dressed up in costume only once, and even then I felt ridiculous. St. Berbara had donned on different characters in order to escape the Romans who were persecuting her. She used to hide in wheat fields. Cooked wheat with sugar, cinnamon, almonds and raisins, something similar to American-style oatmeal, is served during this "holiday" and a special song is sung. My late grandmother used to call on Eid el Berbara as her excuse to make that treat for her grandchildren although she really did not need to go that far to convince us to enjoy that treat.

 

This year, however, Jeff and I made an exception and JR got to take part in her first, and possibly last, trick or treating expedition. The timing was right, and the distraction was perfect. I had just been admitted to the hospital for an emergency cerclage and we enlisted Sonia to help with JR. We were not prepared for the surgery but were lucky that Sonia came to our aid at a moment’s notice. She dropped what she was doing, picked JR up and headed back to her place where she kept her two girls and their friend engaged, fed, rested and happy for the rest of the day. And since the surgery happened on Halloween dressing up and knocking on people’s doors proved to be a most successful form of entertainment for the 3 year-old. It was so successful that JR did not notice that I was not there until it was time for her to go to bed and Mama was not there. And, “facetiming” Mama was a poor substitute.

 

Choosing to allow JR to dress up like a frog and knock on people’s door proved to be a decision that we won’t regret. She came back happy with lots of stories to tell. And while this decision may not align with our overall parenting style, being flexible and allowing room for the unexpected is. And while I would love to raise my kids with “rules and regulations,” I love being able to offer them adaptability more. Life is full of surprises and having the skills to bend with the change is invaluable. So yes, there are traditions we won’t incorporate into our daily life; but when the choice is between bending the rules to allow myself and my family space to function, or being rigid and thus crippling, I will chose to bend the rules.

 

And that is one of the many lessons this bed rest challenge has taught me.