So, I don't know why weird stuff keeps happening to us, but it's story-time (again).
As you know, we moved in with mom because I had a baby and had to quit my job. In order to do this, sadly, we had to break our lease at the apartment we were renting. Let me preface my story with the statement that this is not something we would have done if we had a choice. We feel very strongly about the contracts we sign and the obligations we agree to, so it upsets us that we had to back out of the agreement we made.
That said, here's what happened. May 1st, we gave the apartment manager 60 days notice that we would be vacating. She said, "ok, that's a total of two months rent as a termination fee, and we can arrange a payment plan for you to pay it off gradually." That's what we thought would happen. So, it seemed reasonable, and we pulled the trigger on moving.
We should have gotten it in writing.
Two weeks ago, Adam and I went to the leasing office to see the manager and try to work out our payment plan. To our surprise, not only was the manager whom we had made the agreement with not present, but she had been fired the week before.
Gulp.
We spoke to the new manager, and she seemed very nice. She said the other manager misspoke and that it would be one month's rent and a redecorating fee, but that she would double check with her supervisor and get back to us.
A week went by, and we had heard nothing from the manager. We went forward with our original plan, unsuspecting of calamity, and moved everything out of the apartment into the storage unit I rented. We were going to sleep at mom's and spend the days cleaning the apartment to the management's specifications.
The first day I was going to start cleaning the apartment (Tuesday of this week), I came to the door to find a little note about our termination fees. They wanted 2 month's rent and almost a thousand dollars more as a "special" fee, and they wanted it by Saturday, or they would send our bill to a collections office.
Double gulp.
I didn't know what a "special" fee could mean, but it almost doubled the amount owed and there was no sense that we could pay it later than Saturday. I went down to the office twice to try to get our lease agreement so I could find out what that "special" was about, and they "couldn't find my lease." Twice. The third time, Adam went with me, and we got a copy of everything we signed for our contract.
Now, the special was a concession agreement written addendum to the lease and said that we would pay over $800 upon moving out if we moved out before our lease was up in December. The reason for this was apparently because we got a reduced rate on the apartment, and if we left sooner than the date on the lease, we would have to pay back everything that we saved by having the reduced rate. The problem was, we had no idea there was a concession on our apartment. Do you know why? Because we never signed it.
They FORGED our signatures.
Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I'm pretty sure that's bad news.
It wasn't quite an ace in the hole, though. If the office went by our lease agreement, we would actually have to continue paying rent until the unit was re-occupied, which would be substantially more than two grand. We only had one bargaining chip, and if it didn't work, we would have to keep paying rent for the apartment, which sort of defeats the purpose of moving in the first place.
We went to the office, and discussed the two months' rent (which was all we wanted to pay since that's what the original manager told us to begin with). Then, the topic of the concession came up, and in my best "mah baby's in dah hospital" voice, I said that was confusing to us because those weren't our signatures and we didn't know there was a concession. After they compared our signatures on the lease with the ones on the addendum, they decided not to hold us accountable for the special and only charged us 2 months' rent.
Phew.
They signed a payment plan agreement with us and wrote that our account would be closed by the last payment in August, which we all signed and dated, and which Adam promptly scanned into our computer. We were giddy from the adrenaline rush the whole rest of the day.
And that's how we didn't have to come up with $2,200 by tomorrow.
The moral of the story is: always get everything in writing, and it's useful to have a very unique signature.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The Hardest Part Behind Us
Elijah's surgery went without a hitch. He did great, and the surgeons said he should have no long term consequences from this experience.
Praise God!
Also, he pooped. We explained to him that this is one of the very few instances in his life where this is cause for celebration. It means that his bowels are working, and he should be allowed to eat very soon. The sooner he eats, the sooner he comes home. And I am dancing on the walls.
In an effort to avoid epic rain, I timed our move on Saturday like clockwork. I was to pick up the U-haul and drive it to the apartment. Then, Adam and our moving buddies were going to fill the truck while I drove to the storage facility and signed the lease for the unit. Then we all were going to the storage facility to unload some, Mom's to unload the rest, and then order pizza.
It went without a single thing going wrong, despite my expectations to the contrary.
Also, it never rained: all that effort and not a single drop until an hour after we finished. While I don't necessarily believe that God halted a tropical storm just for my benefit, it certainly feels that way. Sunday got the weather that Saturday was supposed to have: epic rain, flooding, gusts of 30 mph. I was a fool to think that I could have moved in such weather, but the Lord spared me.
I feel like my cat, Bagheera, whenever some bigger cat or other scary thing would threaten him. We would come out and shoo the bigger cat away from him, and Bagheera would trail behind us with his hair standing up. Then, once danger was certainly past, he would run out in front of us as if he had been the one to scare it away, as if to say, "Yeah, take that! And don't you come back!" Well, take that, Tropical Storm Debby. You are no match for my Master.
On a side not, U-haul trucks are extremely fun to drive.
Praise God!
Also, he pooped. We explained to him that this is one of the very few instances in his life where this is cause for celebration. It means that his bowels are working, and he should be allowed to eat very soon. The sooner he eats, the sooner he comes home. And I am dancing on the walls.
In an effort to avoid epic rain, I timed our move on Saturday like clockwork. I was to pick up the U-haul and drive it to the apartment. Then, Adam and our moving buddies were going to fill the truck while I drove to the storage facility and signed the lease for the unit. Then we all were going to the storage facility to unload some, Mom's to unload the rest, and then order pizza.
It went without a single thing going wrong, despite my expectations to the contrary.
Also, it never rained: all that effort and not a single drop until an hour after we finished. While I don't necessarily believe that God halted a tropical storm just for my benefit, it certainly feels that way. Sunday got the weather that Saturday was supposed to have: epic rain, flooding, gusts of 30 mph. I was a fool to think that I could have moved in such weather, but the Lord spared me.
I feel like my cat, Bagheera, whenever some bigger cat or other scary thing would threaten him. We would come out and shoo the bigger cat away from him, and Bagheera would trail behind us with his hair standing up. Then, once danger was certainly past, he would run out in front of us as if he had been the one to scare it away, as if to say, "Yeah, take that! And don't you come back!" Well, take that, Tropical Storm Debby. You are no match for my Master.
On a side not, U-haul trucks are extremely fun to drive.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Get Your Towels Ready, It's About To Go Down
Surgery today... Moving tomorrow... There aren't enough hours in the day, and I don't have enough hands.
Anyone who checked the weather for our area knows that today and tomorrow are supposed to be pretty epically rainy. That sort of throws a monkey wrench in the works. Originally, we were going to borrow our friend's open bed trailer to move our furniture, but with rain, that's no longer an option. So, I spent yesterday scrambling to rent a truck, and my mom and I spent 6 hours loading our cars with things and driving them to her house. We made 3 trips. The good news is that we only have to move our furniture tomorrow. The bad news is that I might have pulled something, and my back isn't going to be terribly useful tomorrow. It seems that gaining 30 extra pounds and then suddenly losing it all wrecks havoc on your center of gravity.
Elijah is supposed to go in to surgery around 2 o'clock this afternoon. That's as long as they don't have to bump him around again.
I keep looking up mountain cabin rentals and staring at the pictures. I want a family vacation - just me, Adam, and Elijah - so bad that I can't see straight. I even starting dreaming about going to the mountains. Of course, I have weird dreams, so they always wind up with me separated from Adam while a bunch of moonshiners are hunting me down to eat my baby, but I can tell that the mountains are on my mind. Maybe in a year, when we can save, we can go to the Smokies and have a nice, relaxing vacation together. Daydreaming about it has been one of the things that keeps me moving these days.
Speaking of weird dreams, I dreamed last night that Phil had faked his death and was living with our grandparents this whole time. I woke up almost believing it for a moment.
Anyone who checked the weather for our area knows that today and tomorrow are supposed to be pretty epically rainy. That sort of throws a monkey wrench in the works. Originally, we were going to borrow our friend's open bed trailer to move our furniture, but with rain, that's no longer an option. So, I spent yesterday scrambling to rent a truck, and my mom and I spent 6 hours loading our cars with things and driving them to her house. We made 3 trips. The good news is that we only have to move our furniture tomorrow. The bad news is that I might have pulled something, and my back isn't going to be terribly useful tomorrow. It seems that gaining 30 extra pounds and then suddenly losing it all wrecks havoc on your center of gravity.
Elijah is supposed to go in to surgery around 2 o'clock this afternoon. That's as long as they don't have to bump him around again.
I keep looking up mountain cabin rentals and staring at the pictures. I want a family vacation - just me, Adam, and Elijah - so bad that I can't see straight. I even starting dreaming about going to the mountains. Of course, I have weird dreams, so they always wind up with me separated from Adam while a bunch of moonshiners are hunting me down to eat my baby, but I can tell that the mountains are on my mind. Maybe in a year, when we can save, we can go to the Smokies and have a nice, relaxing vacation together. Daydreaming about it has been one of the things that keeps me moving these days.
Speaking of weird dreams, I dreamed last night that Phil had faked his death and was living with our grandparents this whole time. I woke up almost believing it for a moment.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Minor Frustrations
Have you ever sat down for a nice, relaxing hour of blogging and had a cockroach run across your computer screen? That's what just happened to me. So, instead of relaxing in front of my computer, I was crouching underneath it with a shoe, trying to find the little varmint. After much exploratory tapping around the wires, I finally smooshed him against the wall. I felt very proud, and it almost, almost makes up for the time (a couple of days ago) when there was a roach on the ceiling and I was such a coward that I literally called my mom to drive to the apartment and kill it for me.
It was on the ceiling. What was I supposed to do? It could have fallen on me.
Moving on: Yesterday was seriously frustrating. Elijah was supposed to have his surgery at 9 am (to put his intestines back together, remember), and we were really pumped. We were nervous, yes, but also really exciting because it was finally happening. As we were getting ready to go to the hospital, we got a call at 8 am that it was cancelled for the day and they would reschedule for later in the week. I was so mad I could have spit nails. They had stopped feeding him at midnight the night before, so they had starved my poor baby for no reason.
It wasn't the surgeons' fault: there are administrative people who schedule the surgeries, and one of them saw a semi-empty spot on the schedule for Tuesday and "squeezed" Elijah in (he was originally going to be on Thursday). When the surgery before his was going into overtime, there was no time to do Elijah and the other babies who actually were on the schedule before he was squeezed it. The true annoyance is that now he doesn't have his own time slot anymore because they bumped him around and they have to "squeeze" him in somewhere else. Grr.
The new surgery date is either tomorrow or Friday. We should know by this afternoon.
I did, at least, anticipate this sort of thing now that we're so close to the end of the line. We're so close that it's almost palpable, and my anticipation becomes overwhelming. When we get setback even a little bit, I get upset. I need to count my blessings, though, because it's actually nice that the setback is only a few days and not a week or a month, like other setbacks have been (To put this in perspective for you, Elijah has been in the hospital for 12 weeks as of yesterday. It will be 3 months on the 27th.).
Anyway, Adam had a really good first Father's Day, I think. We split a 20 oz. Porterhouse steak at a restaurant thanks to a gift card from a friend, and I made the most awesome cheesecake. Then we saw the baby and went home to kill zombies. Here are some pictures (of the baby, not the zombies). Our camera is fuzzy when we don't use the flash, but I don't want to startle Elijah, so that's as good as it's going to get until we get him out of that windowless room.
It was on the ceiling. What was I supposed to do? It could have fallen on me.
Moving on: Yesterday was seriously frustrating. Elijah was supposed to have his surgery at 9 am (to put his intestines back together, remember), and we were really pumped. We were nervous, yes, but also really exciting because it was finally happening. As we were getting ready to go to the hospital, we got a call at 8 am that it was cancelled for the day and they would reschedule for later in the week. I was so mad I could have spit nails. They had stopped feeding him at midnight the night before, so they had starved my poor baby for no reason.
It wasn't the surgeons' fault: there are administrative people who schedule the surgeries, and one of them saw a semi-empty spot on the schedule for Tuesday and "squeezed" Elijah in (he was originally going to be on Thursday). When the surgery before his was going into overtime, there was no time to do Elijah and the other babies who actually were on the schedule before he was squeezed it. The true annoyance is that now he doesn't have his own time slot anymore because they bumped him around and they have to "squeeze" him in somewhere else. Grr.
The new surgery date is either tomorrow or Friday. We should know by this afternoon.
I did, at least, anticipate this sort of thing now that we're so close to the end of the line. We're so close that it's almost palpable, and my anticipation becomes overwhelming. When we get setback even a little bit, I get upset. I need to count my blessings, though, because it's actually nice that the setback is only a few days and not a week or a month, like other setbacks have been (To put this in perspective for you, Elijah has been in the hospital for 12 weeks as of yesterday. It will be 3 months on the 27th.).
Anyway, Adam had a really good first Father's Day, I think. We split a 20 oz. Porterhouse steak at a restaurant thanks to a gift card from a friend, and I made the most awesome cheesecake. Then we saw the baby and went home to kill zombies. Here are some pictures (of the baby, not the zombies). Our camera is fuzzy when we don't use the flash, but I don't want to startle Elijah, so that's as good as it's going to get until we get him out of that windowless room.
 |
| I believe the term is "pathologically cuddlesome" |
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Everything is Marvelous, Just Marvelous
Check out what we did:
First of all, Adam is fine (I wasn't in the car). The quarter panel is destroyed and the bumper needs replacing, but otherwise it's ok. Even the headlight still works. So, for the time being, we are actually just driving around like this. We get lots of stares, and everyone is giving us a wide berth ("Oh, man, stay away from that car. Look at what they already did!"). The insurance won't pay for it because I'm a dumbo and didn't get collision coverage, but for now we can still drive her until we can order the parts. My mom's next door neighbor can fix everything for us if we just get him the pieces, which is good, good news. We're hoping he can just hammer out the hood until it's kinda sorta straight.
In other news, Elijah's surgery is officially scheduled for next Thursday, the 21st. Then, we pray for a speedy, speedy recovery because the idea is that he comes home after he heals. Yay!
We are moving next Saturday, the 23rd, and spending the next week cleaning the apartment. Call me if you want to help... There will be pizza.
First of all, Adam is fine (I wasn't in the car). The quarter panel is destroyed and the bumper needs replacing, but otherwise it's ok. Even the headlight still works. So, for the time being, we are actually just driving around like this. We get lots of stares, and everyone is giving us a wide berth ("Oh, man, stay away from that car. Look at what they already did!"). The insurance won't pay for it because I'm a dumbo and didn't get collision coverage, but for now we can still drive her until we can order the parts. My mom's next door neighbor can fix everything for us if we just get him the pieces, which is good, good news. We're hoping he can just hammer out the hood until it's kinda sorta straight.
In other news, Elijah's surgery is officially scheduled for next Thursday, the 21st. Then, we pray for a speedy, speedy recovery because the idea is that he comes home after he heals. Yay!
We are moving next Saturday, the 23rd, and spending the next week cleaning the apartment. Call me if you want to help... There will be pizza.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Epic Pizza
Adam and I needed to have fun, so last night we went overboard. I think never having fun caused us to overdo it. We made 2 cans of black bean dip, 2 pizzas (1 with half Hawaiian, half meat-lovers, and the other with veggies), and a cherry cobbler. Then we played Left 4 Dead 2 for two hours until we were practically falling asleep. Afterwards, we watched Pixar shorts on You-tube and went into a pizza-induced coma until just now when I woke up and decided to share some good news.
Elijah was over 6 pounds yesterday. They are scheduling his surgery week after next (Scheduling! That means they are making a schedule!). They will have his operation on either Tuesday the 19th or Friday the 22nd. That's as long as we don't have a set-back.
Possibility for set-back aside, it's wonderful to have a time that I can get my head around instead of "forever and ever and on and on and never ever stopping." They say to expect 3 weeks after his surgery (barring complications, always, always barring complications). Then, home. If he's not home by August, I'm going to start picketing outside the hospital (with signs that say "Set Elijah Free," chanting "No more set-backs" and singing "We Will Overcome").
I had a weird dream the other night. I dreamed that a "discharge nurse" came and went into Elijah's room. She had the words "Discharge Nurse" written in what I hoped was red crayon on her name tag. Her hair was all askew, like she was wearing a wig, and she was wearing one of those traditional nurse uniforms with the little hat, but it didn't fit her well and it was covered in blood. She took Elijah and shook him, and said she was trying to see if he could go home, but I said, "He can't! He still has to have his surgery!" And then I woke up.
This is taking too long.
One of these days, we will be the family that gets to roll their little baby out in the special wooden discharge bassinet and drive him away, away from that place.
------Update------
6 pounds 4 ounces. Woot.
Elijah was over 6 pounds yesterday. They are scheduling his surgery week after next (Scheduling! That means they are making a schedule!). They will have his operation on either Tuesday the 19th or Friday the 22nd. That's as long as we don't have a set-back.
Possibility for set-back aside, it's wonderful to have a time that I can get my head around instead of "forever and ever and on and on and never ever stopping." They say to expect 3 weeks after his surgery (barring complications, always, always barring complications). Then, home. If he's not home by August, I'm going to start picketing outside the hospital (with signs that say "Set Elijah Free," chanting "No more set-backs" and singing "We Will Overcome").
I had a weird dream the other night. I dreamed that a "discharge nurse" came and went into Elijah's room. She had the words "Discharge Nurse" written in what I hoped was red crayon on her name tag. Her hair was all askew, like she was wearing a wig, and she was wearing one of those traditional nurse uniforms with the little hat, but it didn't fit her well and it was covered in blood. She took Elijah and shook him, and said she was trying to see if he could go home, but I said, "He can't! He still has to have his surgery!" And then I woke up.
This is taking too long.
One of these days, we will be the family that gets to roll their little baby out in the special wooden discharge bassinet and drive him away, away from that place.
------Update------
6 pounds 4 ounces. Woot.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
A Real Update
So many things to talk about... I'll start with Elijah, since that's what everyone wants to know about. If you get bored after that, then you can stop reading once I finish.
Elijah, as I mentioned in the last post, is 5 lbs 11 oz, or 2.6 kilos. We have been waiting for 3 kilos so that we can put him back together, or about 6 pounds 10 oz. The reason he has to be that big is because they do not have equipment small enough to perform the operation on a smaller baby.
So what exactly are we talking about here? Well, I drew some pictures to help you out. I am not an artist - Adam is - so my pictures look terrible. Just be thankful I'm not making you Google this stuff because if you did, you might throw up that wonderful meal you may or may not have recently had. It's cuter in my drawings.
First, an orientation:
Ok, so what are we looking at? This is Elijah's belly as it currently appears. If you can get past the oogy-ness of it, I will be happy to explain. On the left of the surgical wound is the fistula and on the right is his stoma. What the surgeon did was take the damaged piece of intestine out and brought the two ends of his intestines to the surface of his skin (they look like small red sausages... aren't you glad I didn't make you Google it?). The stoma is essentially where his small intestines end and the fistula is near where his large intestines begin. After his surgery until about a week ago, they had an ostomy bag fitted over his stoma and covered his fistula with only a very moist sort of gauze. His small intestines were doing all the digesting, the matter came out into the bag, and his large intestines lay dormant.
Last week, they made a change. Observe:
Now, instead of letting his large intestines lie dormant, they are taking what comes out of his stoma and "re-feeding" it into the fistula, causing his large intestines to get some exercise before they are reattached. It also tells the surgeons that his large intestines are healthy enough for reattachment because they are all moving the way they are supposed to. It also gives Elijah a chance to get more fluids and a few more nutrients from the milk he eats.
When he gets reattached, they will reconnect the stoma and fistula, minus the damaged bowel they removed because of NEC. The surgeons do not anticipate any long-term consequences to this experience, providing the surgery has no complications and excepting a pretty epic scar.
We are really looking forward to him being put back together. He will be much happier for it. As it is now, he tends to mess up the rig they have him set up with, so they have to fix it, and he screams at them as a result. Kid has a temper.
They told us that he might be able to have surgery in about 2 weeks, but that is all relative to how big he gets and if he's healthy enough for it, so I'm not getting excited yet. I won't be excited until he's home. For now, it's just a joy to see him start to interact with his surroundings and get cuter every day.
In other news, our moving date is June 23rd. Also, I'm the lead singer in the band my husband is starting. Yay.
-----
Time goes by very slowly when I want Elijah home. I have been challenged that, even though I'm anxious and generally miserable and I want this phase to be over and the new happier phase to start, this is still part of the life I have here on this earth. Even if it's only a few months, these are precious months that I have to live, even if I am anxiously longing for the brighter days ahead. Phil only had 261 months to live. How many do I have? I have chosen, instead of moping and wishing in anguish for a happy future with beautiful moments with my son, to make the most of this time, difficult and interminable as it feels. The Bible verse that came to me at this point was from Colossians 4:2-5 -
Continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving; meanwhile praying also for us, that God would open to us a door for the word, to speak the mystery of Christ, for which I am also in chains, that I may make it manifest, as I ought to speak. Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time [emphasis mine].
We call it the "Living Word of God," but it's times like these where it really feels alive... That even though I can't see God in person or hear His voice, He still uses his Scriptures, written almost 2,000 years ago, to speak to me in my situation.
I don't get to be mopey and sit around bemoaning my situation. I still have duties to my God that I must attend to, even in the middle of all this mess. Since realizing this, I have noticed all the things God has blessed me with, not the least of which is my marriage to an incredible man who walks closely by me in the middle of the worst crisis we've had together.
So, there's my update. If you made it through, wunderbar. I need to go figure out meals for the next couple of days and get ready to go to the hospital. I'll update again when I have free time and/or when something big happens.
Elijah, as I mentioned in the last post, is 5 lbs 11 oz, or 2.6 kilos. We have been waiting for 3 kilos so that we can put him back together, or about 6 pounds 10 oz. The reason he has to be that big is because they do not have equipment small enough to perform the operation on a smaller baby.
So what exactly are we talking about here? Well, I drew some pictures to help you out. I am not an artist - Adam is - so my pictures look terrible. Just be thankful I'm not making you Google this stuff because if you did, you might throw up that wonderful meal you may or may not have recently had. It's cuter in my drawings.
First, an orientation:
Ok, so what are we looking at? This is Elijah's belly as it currently appears. If you can get past the oogy-ness of it, I will be happy to explain. On the left of the surgical wound is the fistula and on the right is his stoma. What the surgeon did was take the damaged piece of intestine out and brought the two ends of his intestines to the surface of his skin (they look like small red sausages... aren't you glad I didn't make you Google it?). The stoma is essentially where his small intestines end and the fistula is near where his large intestines begin. After his surgery until about a week ago, they had an ostomy bag fitted over his stoma and covered his fistula with only a very moist sort of gauze. His small intestines were doing all the digesting, the matter came out into the bag, and his large intestines lay dormant.
Last week, they made a change. Observe:
Now, instead of letting his large intestines lie dormant, they are taking what comes out of his stoma and "re-feeding" it into the fistula, causing his large intestines to get some exercise before they are reattached. It also tells the surgeons that his large intestines are healthy enough for reattachment because they are all moving the way they are supposed to. It also gives Elijah a chance to get more fluids and a few more nutrients from the milk he eats.
When he gets reattached, they will reconnect the stoma and fistula, minus the damaged bowel they removed because of NEC. The surgeons do not anticipate any long-term consequences to this experience, providing the surgery has no complications and excepting a pretty epic scar.
We are really looking forward to him being put back together. He will be much happier for it. As it is now, he tends to mess up the rig they have him set up with, so they have to fix it, and he screams at them as a result. Kid has a temper.
They told us that he might be able to have surgery in about 2 weeks, but that is all relative to how big he gets and if he's healthy enough for it, so I'm not getting excited yet. I won't be excited until he's home. For now, it's just a joy to see him start to interact with his surroundings and get cuter every day.
He's a lot paler in photos. He looks less like Uncle Fester in person.
In other news, our moving date is June 23rd. Also, I'm the lead singer in the band my husband is starting. Yay.
-----
Time goes by very slowly when I want Elijah home. I have been challenged that, even though I'm anxious and generally miserable and I want this phase to be over and the new happier phase to start, this is still part of the life I have here on this earth. Even if it's only a few months, these are precious months that I have to live, even if I am anxiously longing for the brighter days ahead. Phil only had 261 months to live. How many do I have? I have chosen, instead of moping and wishing in anguish for a happy future with beautiful moments with my son, to make the most of this time, difficult and interminable as it feels. The Bible verse that came to me at this point was from Colossians 4:2-5 -
Continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving; meanwhile praying also for us, that God would open to us a door for the word, to speak the mystery of Christ, for which I am also in chains, that I may make it manifest, as I ought to speak. Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time [emphasis mine].
We call it the "Living Word of God," but it's times like these where it really feels alive... That even though I can't see God in person or hear His voice, He still uses his Scriptures, written almost 2,000 years ago, to speak to me in my situation.
I don't get to be mopey and sit around bemoaning my situation. I still have duties to my God that I must attend to, even in the middle of all this mess. Since realizing this, I have noticed all the things God has blessed me with, not the least of which is my marriage to an incredible man who walks closely by me in the middle of the worst crisis we've had together.
So, there's my update. If you made it through, wunderbar. I need to go figure out meals for the next couple of days and get ready to go to the hospital. I'll update again when I have free time and/or when something big happens.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Progress Report, In Brief
Elijah weighs 5 lbs 11 oz today. They tell us that he will have at least another 5 weeks in the hospital, but that doesn't really mean anything to me except that they expect him to leave one day. I've sort of settled into a comfortable routine at the hospital, so I guess things could be worse. One of my favorite nurses is on vacation for the next two weeks, which has seriously bummed me out. I'll be thankful when she's back.
I started having weird fears the other day. I wondered how being in the hospital for this long would affect Elijah developmentally. I worried that he would sit up for the first time in his hospital room, or that his first words would be "IV Support" or "Urgent Message: Vent Disconnect." Being his mother, I have gross over-estimations about my child (the cutest baby in the world) and the abilities that he (the smartest baby in the world) is capable of. He has been very alert lately, and I've worried that his limited surroundings might be under-stimulating him. Then I remember that he sleeps 16-20 hours out of the day and that maybe my fears are unfounded.
I'll give a proper update tomorrow. Right now, it's midnight, and I have to wake up in four hours to pump milk, so goodbye until the morning when I will sit down and write a real, substantial post.
I started having weird fears the other day. I wondered how being in the hospital for this long would affect Elijah developmentally. I worried that he would sit up for the first time in his hospital room, or that his first words would be "IV Support" or "Urgent Message: Vent Disconnect." Being his mother, I have gross over-estimations about my child (the cutest baby in the world) and the abilities that he (the smartest baby in the world) is capable of. He has been very alert lately, and I've worried that his limited surroundings might be under-stimulating him. Then I remember that he sleeps 16-20 hours out of the day and that maybe my fears are unfounded.
I'll give a proper update tomorrow. Right now, it's midnight, and I have to wake up in four hours to pump milk, so goodbye until the morning when I will sit down and write a real, substantial post.
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