Remembering

I remember being scared as we drove home to St. George from my parents home in Orem right after the holidays in January 2009. I was in so much pain by the time we reached Cedar City that I was curled up in the fetal position and letting my boys see the fear and pain in my eyes. As a mother, I have always been aware of the need to shelter my boys (at least when they were very young) from getting too frightened. I knew there would be times that they would experience pain and discomfort, but I also knew that Tony or I would be right there to comfort them and reassure them that they were protected and that all was right in the world. However, by this time in our drive home, I was in such severe pain that I was almost delirious and I remember knowing that my pain and fear were apparent on my face, yet realizing that I could not control those reactions. I HATED that! More than the pain or the fear: I hated knowing that my boys could feel it and that there was nothing I could do about it! I had lost the ability to control that.
When we arrived in St. George, it was very obvious that we needed to go straight to the nearest ER rather than go home. This was a very frustrating thought because I had been to three emergency rooms during the past week trying to find a reason for my pain and each visit just made us more concerned and confused. I knew that I had a cyst on my left ovary because I had an ultrasound done at my OB/GYN's office in St. George before we even went to Orem for Christmas. It was done on December 22, 2008, because the last period I had started at the beginning of November and I was still bleeding at the end of December. The ultrasound technician told me that the cyst was large enough that there was a possibility of it torquing my ovary and preventing the blood supply from reaching that ovary. We thought this was the cause of my pain and we were sure to tell every ER doctor and nurse about this. The doctor at the first ER visit even ordered another ultrasound, but it showed the blood supply reaching the ovary so we were told that was not the cause. I was sent away from that visit with pain medication and the advice to call my OB/GYN after the holidays. Little did I know that by the new year, I would be fighting for my life! At the subsequent ER visits we were given the same advice, but there was not another ultrasound performed and there was not (at ANY of the ER visits) a pelvic exam performed, which struck us as a bit strange.
The last thing I remember was being admitted to Dixie Regional Medical Center in St. George after that terrible car ride. In future posts, I will write about the things that I saw while I was in a coma for two weeks. During that time, I was unaware of countless doctors trying to save my life and countless prayers on behalf of my family and friends given asking the Lord to spare my life. For the next little while I will be writing what I remember. After that I will retell some of what I had been told and then I can write what I remember after waking from my coma.

One more try!

I've decided that it's worth it for me to jot down a few thoughts every now and again; if not for other's benefit, then for my own and my family's. Lately my life has been in complete upheaval and I have found myself relying again and again on my new-found strength. There have been many times where I have found myself wondering if I could be the pillar of strength so desperately needed during this difficult time in my boys life. After all, that's just what they are: little boys. Little boys who I love more than I could ever describe. But, every day, somehow or other I have made it through, making sure to celebrate the little victories. Just yesterday may have seemed like the most ordinary Sunday to most: I woke up, got the chicken in the crockpot, helped my husband get our boys dressed and the four of us off to church, returning to a home smelling of the perfect after-church meal smell, and later making brownies which we shared with our darling neighbors. To me; however, yesterday was a gigantic victory. I awoke feeling well, not groggy from my numerous medications; I stood up, after rolling on my silicone liners and forcing what's left of my legs into prosthetics; I readied the chicken for the crockpot, doing so without fingers; we got off to church, on time and without me feeling like I was drowning in my own sweat; returned home, being awake and alert enough to prepare dinner; and finally making brownies, and walking to my neighbors and back without having to sit down once because of my prosthetic pain!
I relate this story, not to gain any pity or congratulations, but to remind myself (and possibly others) that it is in the small, everyday moments that we find the most joy. I was able to accomplish things yesterday that, three years ago, seemed absolutely impossible. And I was able to do those things all while contemplating the wonder of that love that we, as mothers, have for our children. I was able to fully appreciate the sweet glances from my hubby that both of us knew meant more than a full dictionary could describe.
So....to those who are struggling, which I'm learning is practically everyone, find your happiness in places you never thought to look!