I'll Have the Lobster Special

We just celebrated Yeats' first HALLOWEEN. It was just as fantastic as I thought it would be! I decided that I wanted to dress her in a costume that was fun, whimsical, involved, and funny. Naturally, this led me to a Lobster costume. :)

I saw the costume in a magazine (is it me, or do random magazines start showing up in the thousands when you have a baby?! Ridic!), and laughed out-loud, it was so silly looking. "That's it!" I said. It arrived in early October, but I waited until Sat (30 Oct 2011) to dress Yeats in it, prior to a party we were going to. I laughed so hard I cried....it was even more ridiculous and wonderful in person! Luckily, it was warm and comfortable, and YV was able to wear it on Sat at the party, on Sun at my Mom/Michael's, and on Mon, for actual Halloween. We walked to the houses of a few of our neighbors on Halloween, and then went to my Dad/Lisa's, visiting a few of their friends there. It was so cute, and a wonderful memory. :)

F the "C" Word.

That's right... F the "C" word. F*CK CANCER. I said it, and I mean it. Nobody ever did anything to Cancer, but Cancer is determined to do something to millions of people. Quite simply, it sucks.

On 2 October, 2011, my amazing stepmother, Lisa, lost her younger sister, Rita, to breast cancer. I lost my Aunt Rita. My Uncle Ben lost his beautiful wife. And Rita's two young sons, just starting into their 20's, lost their mother. So senseless. So unfair. WHY?!?!

No one knows why. We here on earth are not supposed to be able to answer "why?" But that doesn't stop us from asking, it doesn't make not getting an answer any less frustrating. And actually - in asking, it seems we are able to move slowly forward; the same, and yet forever changed.

My Aunt Rita was, especially to me as a child, the light in the room. She was energetic, funny, self-deprecating in the best way, ALWAYS SMILING, giving, interested in others and good at making you feel that she was truly invested in what you were saying... She was a warm person who made you feel loved and included. She was a very good, very loving, very strong woman. And she will be missed by so many people, in so many ways.

Last weekend, we went to Richmond to see my in-laws. My father-in-law was recovering from surgery for prostate cancer. Again, F the "C" word. He had just gotten word that the tissue they removed to test his prostate for additional cancer was CLEAN. It was lovely to be with him and them that evening, to celebrate in person, and to say our thanks for this massive blessing. My father-in-law knows he is lucky, and he is so thankful. We are so thankful, too.

It is so upsetting that this disease is still invading innocent people and taking over their bodies. Some fight the disease and it runs, scared. Some fight the disease again and again, with brutal strength, only to lose. It is a mystery, and God-willing, we will see the cure(s) in our lifetime.

Gratitude

Life is so unpredictable. UNDERSTATEMENT. The last two months have been...unpredictable, wild, sad, happy, surprising, disappointing, moving, remarkable, and significant. Without going into it ALL in too much depth, I will start with things that go "boom."

On Sept 10, 2011, YV fell off of her changing table onto the hardwood floor in her bedroom... Obviously, it was a total accident, born of YV's desire to not sit still for even ONE minute, and one squirm too many whilst I was trying to change/dress her. It was terrifying for me in the moment, and even more scary when our normally chipper, smiley, happy, calm & "zen" baby was just...not any of those things. X-rays during a trip to the emergency room revealed a broken collarbone. CT scans showed no brain swelling or skull fracture. AMEN. But, the CT scans also showed something else, something we never would have seen or known about otherwise; a cyst on YV's brain. It was called a Mega Cisterna Magna, said the ER Doc. I was sitting down when she told us this news, and I can only describe the feeling I felt, hearing those words, as being like someone socking me square in the stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. Ever the Type-A personality, however, I immediately switched to "inform me" mode and was asking questions. What was the cyst, how long has it been there, why didn't we see it in prenatal scans, what will it mean for Yeats, will it get bigger, will it affect her development, what do we do now, and on and on and on. I asked so many questions, I think I made the doctor's head spin. The ER doctor wasn't a neuro-surgeon, and didn't know too much about these cysts, but - she "wasn't going to lie to us," it was "the largest she'd ever seen."

I don't have to tell you how scary those words were to hear. Here we were, reeling from our daughter's accidental fall, sick with guilt born from the "what if's" of the fall, terribly upset about the broken collarbone and our melancholy daughter who is normally ALL smiles... And yet, none of it means squat next to...a cyst...in her brain...possible developmental issues... Suddenly, this random visit to the ER has become TERRIFYING. We make an immediate appointment with our Pediatrician to get a referral to a neuro-surgeon. Even those words, NEURO-SURGEON, give me the chills. Still.

We saw our peds; he didn't know much about these cysts, so he didn't even want to look at the CT scan pics we had on disc, or to make assumptions or inferences. We understood. He referred us to an amazing pediatric neuro-surgeon at Children's National Medical Center. We called, and were told it would be a week before we could get in to see him. I was freaking out and jumped at the receptionist; "a week?! This is our daughter, it's a cyst on her brain, please!?" She said Dr. Myceros was seeing 25 patients on that day alone. Oh. How much that affected me; realizing that this one doctor was seeing 25 children...in one day. :( And so, we waited our turn, just as other parents had before us, and as other parents were also waiting their turn.

That week was, without a doubt, the longest week of my life. Thinking, reading, studying, praying, praying, praying, not sleeping, crying, hoping, hugging, and did I say praying!? That's all I did. I examined every little thing YV did for "signs" that she was having issues. Nothing. She seemed happy, even despite the painful collarbone break which had, thanks to the cyst, become a far-away second fiddle. Days earlier, we had been blissfully ignorant to this cyst, to ANY issue(s) about to confront us. We had never imagined a brain cyst. Who does?! I had imagined many things, for reasons you know if you know me well...I was uber prepared for God to choose me to parent a child(ren) with issues, b/c He knows I could handle it and have. But, now, I had a child that might have something that I had just NEVER thought about. It was, in a word that just doesn't even cover it, jarring.

The appointment came. It was on a Thursday at 10 a.m. As we were sitting in the waiting room, Jeff took my hand and said "it's going to be okay. She's going to be okay." While I am the most optimistic person I know, I will tell you that I am also a blunt realist. I replied, "maybe, but somebody, some kids, some families, walk in here and it is not okay. I don't want to assume that we aren't those people. It can happen to anyone." And that's still how I feel. God BLESS those people, those families, those children.

We answered every question, and we asked 100,000 more, before the doctor looked at the scans. We covered EVERY BASE. Then, the doctor opened the scans on his screen...his distant persona became immediately warm. He told us that we had a 100-percent healthy daughter who would never, ever have implications from the cyst, in any way. It was just there. And it would stay there, not grow, and not hurt our sweet girl. I cannot tell you how those words melted into my brain in such a pleasant and other-worldly way. I have never, in my whole life, been more thankful to God, more humbled and appreciative for prayers and warm thoughts, than at that moment. Moments earlier, I had been in dispair. Now, I was the happiest I'd been since welcoming my sweet girl into this world. She would be okay. AMEN.

Something I unintentially learned from this experience was that there is nothing more comforting in a challenging/sad/scary period, than kind, warm, true, insightful, or religious thoughts and feelings from friends and family, showing they CARE. I shared some of this journey with others on my Facebook. It wasn't TMI, and it also wasn't "poor me." It was, in all honesty, my steadfast belief in the power of prayer, that led me to sharing on FB. I just wanted as many positive thoughts and prayers going out for YV as possible. What I got in return was astounding. So, so, so many messages of hope, encouragement, prayer, love, friendship, and shared experiences. I heard from so many people...friends I usually don't hear from, family near and far, friends who both know YV well and those who have never met her. Messages on FB, emails, cards and gifts in the mail for us and for YV... It was AMAZING.

After the neuro-surgeon appointment, later that day, I remarked to Jeff that what I felt more profoundly than any other emotion, at knowing our daughter was going to be okay; was GRATITUDE. I was/am literally FILLED with gratitude for those people, for those friends and family and for their words; for the time they took out of their days (some on multiple days!) to write, to let me/us know they cared, that they were thinking positive thoughts for YV, or adding us to their church prayer request list, etc. It was so moving. People are busy! I felt such profound interest and care and love from SO many wonderful people, and for that & them, I will forever, ever and ever be grateful.

Likewise, some who should have, or who I thought would, did not reach out. I don't know why...but I do think that, sometimes, some people don't know how to simply say, "I'm thinking of you," or "what a scary time, hoping for the best." Things like brain cysts, cancer, sickness, and death paralyze certain people who find those things, those realities...too real. It takes 10 seconds to let someone know that you care. And in those 10 seconds, and four simple words, like "we're praying for you," you can make a profound impact on someone's life. OR not.

For everyone that prayed for our sweet, beautiful, baby girl; thank you. You will never know how much it meant to us. :)