Matters of the Tummy

Isabela has a feisty tummy ache. It's so weird to see her cry and decline food items. So out of character for her. Even more odd is the fact that I freaked out a little and called Sam to come back home this morning to help me! I am not in the business of tummy aches. I can do hearts well, manage asthma, soothe Strep Throat and even easily decipher between Croup and Whooping Cough. But, this tummy ache does take me back to 1.5 years of daily reflux and projectile vomitting. How did we dodge all those spit-ups then and today, I am spotted with tossed "cookies". (Oh, for documentation purposes, Isabela, your tummy secretions will always be a different color. Because of your pyloris having to be surgically corrected, your tummy does not empty out normally.)

Ok, so, my mother is on her way on the bus to help. My mother knows this business and, well, when Isabela is ill, the normal response around here is for everyone to congregate around Isabela, begging for the chance to help her.

Even as I walked out the room noticing bright yellow spots on my favorite long-sleeved shirt, I started thanking God aloud for letting me be the one to be Isabela's mother. Isabela must have heard. She climbed out of bed, (tried) ran after me to embrace my knees and say, "Te quiero mucho, Mami!"

Ahhh, secretly loving this business of tummy aches today!






-- Posted from my iPhone

If you really want to know....

I know I am quiet on Blogging World. I have a lot to say, but not ready to say it out loud, much less share. I am looking for something, not really sure what. As crazy as this may sound, I am trying to figure out how to live in a world where everything is just about perfect, in a world in which I am not begging God for anything, just his love.

Sam had a tumor one year. The next I was told we had a 1% chance of conceiving, so we did in-vitro. The very next one, Isabela was born with a life-threatening heart disease that earned her a 6 month stay, never really knowing if she would ever go home. After that, I spent the entire year at home, exclusively teaching my daughter to drink and eat, to walk and run, all the while, hoping for a beating heart. And, oh, another in-vitro cycle, a failed one. After that was done, I watched and aided my mother through stage 2A Breast cancer, as she spiraled out of the woman I grew up seeing, with hair loss and one missing breast. Last year, well, as you know, we were gearing up for Isabela's risky heart surgery, not knowing if it was my last year with her. Yes, all of us in this house, has gone through something huge. Even when it's not on you, it really is.

This year, Crystal has made us so proud, going off to college, being so independent and smart (and healthy!!). Sammy has his dream job he absolutely loves. And Isabela? Taking us by storm with her dual language, mischevious, loving spirit, along with, well, her cardiologist told me over dinner Saturday night, "Well, you know, this means we will be seeing a lot less of each other in the Heart Clinic." (whoah...i think this is what really did me in)

I am tired. So very tired. If you see me or talk with me, because it's easiest on me, I will pretend everything is ok with me...because my brain really knows it is. I just need to figure out how to do that. Need to learn how to live without a count-down, but a long future.

Oh, boy, I have so much to be thankful for. So much. Starting with my family and friends....oh, how much I have felt their presence.

A Bump in the Road

I was in a ridiculously bad mood today. It didn't really hit me until I got home, to a clean, laundry-free house with a pot full of Mexican style chicken soup, all provided by my mother who stayed in my home today to look after Isabela as I went into work. I felt my patience running low. I was irritated even more because I had all the reasons in the world not to be feeling that way. As I sat on the couch, I quickly realized why. I was actually mad. Again, I had Crystal home with me, cuddling on that very same couch just last night, and now she was gone again. I HATE it when she leaves. Her leaving was my problem.

As I was talking myself into a better mood as I needed to commence the chaotic activities of Valentine cards and homework, while Sammy worked a very late night to manage issues on a news truck, faith presented itself. I opened just the right door to put me on the path of recovery. I found something Crystal left behind a month ago. Probably the most expensive mistake to date, but the way I saw it tonight, it was just another little thing that I get to parent her on, even though she is 18 yrs. old. Oh how grateful I have been for her $800 speeding ticket. Not because I love to give away money, but because it has just been an opportunity to "mother" her, something she needs me to help her handle. Although, this one was a tough one. Long story short, Crystal got a speeding ticket during the Hurricane Ike era. My perfect little girl mistakenly drove way too fast from Austin to Houston that we had to seek legal representation. After a good loud, long lecture on my part at the Hills House, I told her she had to find a way to take responsibility. So, because she can not afford the time to get a job, Crystal decided to return just about every Christmas gift we gave her, picked up Isabela from school every day she was here and she was the housekeeper for two weeks during the break. It hurt me to see her return everything, but she insisted and I had to let her take what she deemed as being responsible. Although, I made her keep the Banana Republic coat because I got such a great deal on it. Anyhow, once again, Crystal did the right thing. On top of that, in that same week, she surprised me and took my car for a ride to the car wash for a thorough exterior wash and an interior cleaning and vacuuming with her sweat, at no cost to me. She just wanted me to have a treat!

Crystal can make all the mistakes in the world, but car wash or no car wash, she will always be the best treat of all.

From Houston, I hope I get more opportunities to support her on her journey.

Letting Go Is Not Easy

This one is about Crystal. Actually, about me with Crystal. What an awful mother I have been to her. A selfish one. Now that I have had a conversation with myself, with my head pulled down, and have said it out loud to a couple of friends, I can now write about it to Crystal. Maybe tomorrow, I will have the guts to actually tell her myself.

So, I have a huge problem with letting go. Dropping off Crystal in college was manageable back in August because I had promises that she would return every week or every other week. I hung on to the anticipation of those visits. I especially looked forward to this visit, the 38 day holiday break one. But, now, our days are counted. She leaves on Sunday. We have already talked about and agreed that she shouldn't come into town as often as she did this past semester. She (and I) wants to socialize more in Austin and build lasting friendships. So, the pain associated with those gaps in visits is horrifying me! I just have this terrible need to see her, hear her, touch her and laugh with her. I tell her all the time that she is half of the air I breathe. It really does feel that way. So, how have I been terrible? I have made it difficult for her to see her friends, and her friends have even playfully mentioned it. I have made it difficult for her to do anything that does not involve me. Result? She speaks up, I get upset, and an argument ensues. We have never had an issue with her talking back to me or us getting into a 5 minute, emotionally strained disagreement. The last two weeks, we have. It's stupid of me and I am only pushing her away by doing it. But, I can't seem to get a grip and let her go! I don't get how other parents really mean when they say that they can not wait for their kids to leave for college. I don't get it.

Well, then there is Isabela. The decision to send her to school full-time or part-time next school year. My teacher brain tells me full-time, especially since she is losing a few months of this school year for surgery. I also explored possibilities in transferring her to another school. Although her school is extremely nurturing, on target with curriculum standards and have the lowest class sizes I have even seen, I had to explore in order to confirm the right place for her. So, my difficult issue right now is whether to give up my time with her so that she could go to school 4-5 days, instead of her current 3 day program. Sure, I could finally take up tennis, be a stronger runner, create more elaborate meals at home, etc., but none compares to being with her, enjoying her. I am still praying on this one...letting her go, sort of.

I recently told a friend that I don't know if I could handle a third child. Raising Isabela and Crystal takes so much of the core of my heart. There's so much concern, fear, anxiety along with all the love. Having a girl in far-away college and another with a chronic illness is taking a toll on me. There are so many matters of the heart involved.

I will continue to pray for the strength to share Crystal and Isabela with the world. I really shouldn't be selfish. Like I said, I have been a terrible mother lately. I do hope they forgive me. Because, the bottomeline is that I have fallen completely and utterly in love with both of my girls. I want what they want.

Words I NEED to Live By...for SURVIVAL

Someone sent this to me a few years ago upon my long-awaited arrival home from a long hospital stay. You see, once Isabela was born, as most parents do, my lifestyle changed drastically, but a tiny bit differently. It took no thinking or planning on my part, just gut instincts. As I have been off for most of the summer and highly busy with my many family projects, I have lost sight of one important parental duty..until today. Out of coincidence, out of mere desire and because I know I have been an awful friend, I asked one of my best friends to have lunch with me....just girls...long lunch...with good food and wine....just because. As lovely as the plan sounded, the guilt settled in my bottomless stomach as I drove there because Isabela was at day camp...until I remembered these words that someone sent me three years ago. I was chosen to be Isabela's mother and with that comes particular attributes...so here's to the next girly lunch!

The Special Mother

by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice,a few by social pressure and a couple by habit.This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children.Did you ever wonder how these mothers are chosen?Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation.As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger. "Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew.""Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.""Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard.He's used to profanity."Finally he passes a name to an angel and smiles."Give her a handicapped child."The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy.""Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a handicapped child a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel.""But does she have the patience?" asks the angel."I don't want her to have too much patience,or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair.Once the shock and resentment wear off she'll handle it.""I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother.You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of it's own.She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy.""But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that.This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."The angel gasps, "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally,she will never survive.Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect.She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied.She will never take for granted a spoken word.She will never consider a step ordinary.When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it.I will permit her to see clearly the things I see--ignorance, cruelty,prejudice--and allow her to rise above them.She will never be alone.I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.""And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

AND YES, I, undoubtedly, BELIEVE in GOD ANd I am NOT ALONE. God has also given me those very special friends to help me along the way...without them, this life would not be as splendid as it is!

Mother's Day?

Late this morning, Isabela was especially curious asking questions based on what she observed around her. Because, she was in such a talking mood, I had to hit the park's trail in walking mode instead of on running mode because my body can't handle running and talking at the same time. We talked about why the clouds were the grayish color, why the sun was not poking out and what would happen to the little puddles of water on the ground once the sun made an appearance. As we were caught up in our discussion, an older woman ran by us and startled me when she said "Happy Mother's Day!" with a smile as she pointed to Isabela. Ok, being a serious sentimental person I am, tears rolled down my face. It felt so nice to know that I had such an important job that even strangers appreciated my efforts. Besides, in the end, I am held accountable by our society. Nonetheless, Isabela asked me why she said that to me. So, my answer was a long one...."because a Mommy's job is celebrated. A Mommy's job is to feed you, bathe you, read with you, take you to the Dr., give you your medications, hug you, etc." When I asked Isabela to help me think of other things Mami does, she said "I don't know" and changed the subject. We continued on our walk through the park's trail.

An hour later, as we were playing in the playground, Isabela was asking me to hold her hand as she attempted to walk across a raised beam. I refused and asked her to try it herself slowly by gripping on to an upper rail. Normally, I just let her hold on to me. Today, I wanted her to challenge her body, even though her height is disproportional to the design of the activity. Isabela laughed and repeatedly asked me for assistance. She obviously liked the challenge, but wanted me to grab on "just in case". Well, after many "No, you can do it, show yourself, Isabela", Isabela looked straight at me and answered my previous question by saying to me in Spanish, "A Mommy's job is to make sure I don't fall". I said "you're right, Isabela. I will catch you" Silently, I knew that was true on that beam, but I wished that were true in all cases. But, the fact of the matter is that there are moments in which I have to let her fall...and I will. Now, that's the hardest part of being a Mother.