Welcome to My World

Regardless of where we are, life comes at us. If we want to cherish the moments, they tend to pass us by faster than we can savor them. If we would rather skip a day, it seems to linger endlessly. But life is what it is, and we have to make the most of what we have and focus on the good aspects, large or small, to truly relish our life.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Late Night Musings

I sit at the computer desperate to go upstairs to bed but find myself compelled to stay here as my mind refuses to turn off.  Something continues to nag at my mind, and until I either satiate that void with what my mind wants or find a good substitute, my brain will continue in overdrive.  Often I find myself like this, at almost 2:00 in the morning with the inability to sleep for one reason or another, due the the restlessness of  the children.  Occasionally, however, in the wee hours of the night such as tonight, my body is so well trained to listen for a child to awaken at a certain time, that I am unable to fall asleep until that "moment in time" has passed.  Usually, it is by 2:15.

I have no wish to wander around aimlessly, because that would be a waste of time.  I can't clean very well in the middle of the night lest I actually wake up someone who was sleeping soundly.  I have tried my mind puzzles, and meditating on my favorite book, but I have still been unable to drift away into the sleeping bliss of the night.  So I decided to make myself useful by catching up on some blog work. 

It has been some time since I have sat regularly at the desk to type out my thoughts.  I have been so caught up lately on the house work that by time I sit down I am too tired to even consider the days' moments, let alone write about them.  Tonight was an exception to the last few weeks as the day's events continue to play over in my mind.

One problem remains, though.  It appears that about every other word I have to enter the backspace key to get the words to flow from my head through my hands onto the screen in front of me.  'Tis only too true that I have probably spent a third of the last few minutes hitting that very key.  It goes to show that sometimes I can have the best intentions with no clear cut way of being able to deliver on the goods.

How often do I set about to do a task that is good for all intents and purposes, but may not be the best idea at the moment?  I know I ended yesterday's blog with the beginning of a well known phrase, "to every thing there is a time and a season for every purpose under the heavens," and that particular saying has remained with me since.  Life is full of all these complexities that may at times seem ironic, but it is also filled with great rewards if we just wait for the right time. 

The key is in knowing what time it is right now.  I can't always trust my self to tell me what time it is because my self can be deceptive.  I heard it said that the heart is deceitful above all things.  And if I go merely by what I feel and don't back it up with what I know is real, I can get myself into some big messes.  I may go into a situation ill prepared and get caught trying to erase those mistakes I have made.

It would be nice if life did have a backspace button so I could just delete the mistakes I have made.  Sometimes, that works through the grace of someone else's forgiveness toward me.  It would be nice if I had a spell check or a grammar check that would help keep me in check in situations where I would be tempted to rush through a decision process without thought or without being prepared beforehand.

The best I can do is dwell on the right kind of thoughts and have the right kind of mind set beforehand so I can be as prepared as possible for any unexpected events that may come my way.  Sometimes that means just sitting and pondering my way before answering off the cuff, and sometimes it just means that I stop worrying about what might happen.  Sometimes it means just letting go of the thoughts of what might be, how I might get interrupted just as I unwind, and just deciding to rest so I can go to that meeting the next morning, refreshed, and ready to face what may come.

I think that's what I'll do right now.  I'll stop worrying about who will wake up and just enjoy the peace and the quiet.  I'll take this opportunity to go get the sleep I need so that I can wake up on the right side of the bed in the morning and be ready for the challenges it will hold.  I'll just dwell on the sleep of the here and now and let tomorrow take care of itself.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Sun Burst

It has been raining cats and dogs the last couple of days, bucket loads.  Our area was under severe thunderstorm warnings and tornado warnings Saturday from 5:30 pm until Sunday at 4 am.  Thunder, lightning, and sheets of rain fell all night long and into the early morning today.  Due to the weather, I even had to take my daughter to the bus stop in our minivan this morning...a whole 50 yards from our house!  We waited in the vehicle until the bus got there.  When I left the house to pick up my mom from the airport, it was still raining.  But by time I pulled up to the exterior of the baggage claim area, there was nothing but blue skies.

The last couple of years have been full of stormy weather in our household, what with the children being diagnosed with their various Autism Spectrum Individualism.  Some people may say I'm in denial for not calling it Autism Spectrum Disorder, at least those who do not have children within the spectrum.  But my children are not malfunctioned.  They simply see life from an entirely different viewpoint than most people who are considered normal.  It is my responsibility and my calling as a parent to help the world see them in a different light, as well as to help my children to better understand the world in which they live.  I have been, and continue to relearn how to see life differently.  I am constantly trying to figure out how to see my children better so they can cope with this world that functions so vastly differently from the way they do.  Far from the way I envisioned raising my children, I have had to ignore the mold and let my children be who they are.  It's been a steep path to follow sometimes. 

Last Monday, and again today, the sun broke through the clouds, and the radiance of its warmth and hope shone down upon my family.  Fresh air blew in, that scent that can only be appreciated after the tempestuous rain has washed away the muck that sticks to everything it touches.  Alas!  My heart sang as my spirit soared with the joy only known to one who has endured the long nights in cold, as a ship that has at long last felt the calm because the anchor has held it steadfast.

Nyssa and Nathaniel both came home from school with smiles on their faces and smiley faces on their daily behavior sheets.  Succinctly put, it means they both had good days: obedient, attentive, and cooperative, doing their work without temper tantrum or any other wandering incident.  Now, to those parents who don't have to deal with daily doses of phone calls and written notes, it may seem like nothing.  After all, what child shouldn't come home from school without incident?  But to those of us who have children with ASI (please remember my comment in the second paragraph), the implications of having days without incident can be compared to watching our children walking in sunlight without chains for the first time.  Yes, both of their faces were lit up like Christmas trees, and the joy in their spirits could not be contained.  Even their very bearing had changed to a confidence that caused them to stand taller than they had in years.


My very first recording as a child was a gift for Christmas.  My parents gave me an eight track ~ yes, I realize I am dating myself ~ of Amy Grant's album, My Father's Eyes.  As I sit here elated with the news we received today, I feel like Giselle in Enchanted where she wants to break out in a "beautiful ballad."  Note, please: if you have seen the movie, please read that line again hearing her voice sing out with "a beautiful ballad."  I am feeling rather dramatic in a joyous way, so if you will oblige me here, I'd be most appreciative.

But... I digress.  Twice within the last week, I have felt the stirring in the air, the change that is coming, in regards to my children, as I have felt it so often recently in other matters as well.  And as I sit here typing away, the words to another song by Amy Grant fills my mind to the bubbling point at which I must share with you, because it is full of hope, which goes hand in hand with faith, which can be tricky sometimes. 

If your life is filled with joys and bubbling over with hope as I am this very instant, please, share that with others.  If you feel lost and alone, like nobody understands where you are, caught in despair, then maybe this song is for you... Today may be stormy, but hang on, because the sun will shine again.  It's been a long, rocky road, with falls and scratches along the way, but you're not traveling alone.  Somebody's here holding your hand.

 IT TAKES A LITTLE TIME

It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby you're not going down
It takes more than you've got right now
Give it time

What's this walking thru' my door
I know I've seen the look before
Sometimes in faces on the street
Sometimes in the mirror looking back at me
You can't fix this pain with money
You can't rush a weary soul
You can't sweep it under the rug, now honey
It don't take a lot to know

CHORUS

Now it may not be over by morning
But Rome wasn't built in a day
You can name that thing a thousand times
But it won't make it go away
Let me put my arms around you
And hold you while you weep
We've been talking and you know what
I'm sick of this talk
And it's nothing that won't keep



It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby you're not going down
It takes more than you've got right now
Give it time



To everything there is a time and a season for everything under the heavens...

Monday, March 28, 2011

Life's Labor Pains

Every day something new happens.  Whether apparently good or bad, it happens.  Life doesn't stop around us just because we are tired.  It doesn't stop just because we have been going through days or weeks of tumultuous roller coaster rides.  Sometimes one storm is followed by another, then another, and another, with little or no time to catch a breath.

When I was pregnant with my oldest, I eagerly awaited the birth of my long-awaited daughter.  Her name had been picked out since the time I was in grade school, and my husband was so darling to oblige me.  I sang to the little one inside me incessantly and was anxious to meet my bundle of joy.

For as long as I can remember, I had wanted to have a home delivery with a midwife.  My husband, however, being the caring yet logical husband, wanted a hospital birth.  We compromised and decided to have a delivery with a midwife who worked under the supervision of an OB/GYN.  Content with our decision, we relaxed, enjoyed the pregnancy, and just waited for the appointed time.

A week before she was due, I began having some tiny contractions.  They were the kind that you know are "not going anywhere" because they were just uncomfortable.  But they brought me hope because it was proof she would be coming soon.  Delivery due date came and went, with no sight of my baby, to much avail.  Then, another week passed.  Still, nothing happened.

Finally, because I had gestational diabetes, my doctor's office gave me the words that brought conflict to my soul:  "it's time to induce."  They were concerned that she was going to have too many troubles by being so overdue.  They gave me all the reassurances and scheduled a time to come in:  the evening of June 24.  The plan was to give me something to help prepare my body to go into labor that night and then give me the pitocin the following morning.  As much as I dismayed at the thought of enforcing labor, I also longed to see and hold my precious one.

Packed with bags that were filled with way too many things we thought we needed, which I never saw until I returned home, we drove to the hospital, hoping I'd go into labor on my own.  Not long after I was admitted into a room and settled in, the maternity ward grew busy.  Understandably, I was lowest priority at the time.  Around 10:00 that night, one of the hospital workers came in and gave me the Cervadil to soften things up a little.  After that, it was just a waiting game.  Too excited to sleep, we settled down and watched Patton on the television.

Now, I will preface the rest of my story with the statement that this delivery was unlike any of my later deliveries, and there were extenuating circumstances that made it much more difficult than normal.  I just happened to be one of those "once in a lifetime cases" for the hospital, far from typical.  Thankfully, at the time, I was completely oblivious to that fact.  It was several weeks later that we fully realized the crux of the matter.

By 1:00 am, the contractions were coming so consistently and quickly that they decided to remove the medication, even though it was supposed to remain until 7:00 when they would give me the Pitocin.  Sadly, though, my body remained stoic, unchanged.  The staff thought, as well as I did, that the contractions would continue more slowly but progressively through the night.  We thought incorrectly.  They continued all night, but went nowhere, so to speak.

At 7:00 am, someone came in and gave me something to let me rest for 30 minutes, which I desperately needed.  At 7:30, they gave me pitocin through an IV.  That was when the fun began.  The contractions became more pronounced, but my body still responded in the intended way, so the staff increased the medication, increased it some more a couple hours later, and still more later. 

By 11:00 am, one of the nurses came in to check my blood pressure, along with all the other information she had to update regularly, but there was one small problem.  Every time a contraction went down low enough for her to put the cuff on, the next one began before she could get a reading.  For over an hour, she attempted to take my blood pressure, but she couldn't take it while I was in a contraction.  So what was the big deal?  I had a 7 hour time period in which there was no lack of contraction.  The monitors all read that one wave had just finished its peak and hit a downward point when the next had already begun.  There was literally no rest between them.

I was exhausted.  My water finally broke around 5 that evening, and I was hopeful.  Up until this point, I still had not dilated past 2, which was where I was when I had come into the hospital 22 hours earlier.  It had been difficult, but I silently stared at the wall, at the clock, at a flower, wherever my eyes happened to be at the moment of the peak of a contraction, and just breathed.  My mother and my mother-in-law were in the room with me at the time, relieving my husband for a little while. 

About 6:00, just a few minutes after my husband returned and our mothers were taking a walk, I felt it.  I suddenly literally felt like my insides were being torn out.  Focusing was impossible, and the panic set in.  I couldn't focus, couldn't breathe, couldn't think.  My midwife was with us at the time.  She checked me and then gave me the news that up to this point I had not ever even considered.  Well aware of my initial desires to have a completely natural childbirth with no medication, she now asked us to reconsider.  I could not have an epidural; I was still just a 2.  But I needed something to help me to relax, so she suggested something that was not a narcotic, but would help take the edge off a bit.  Desperately fighting the urge to scream in pain, I stared at Richard's concerned face, and knew it was time.  Relieved even, I conceded. 

Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  The medication was added at 6:15.  It did its job.  I was still very much aware of what was going on.  I could still feel the pain, but it was bearable.  I could breathe.  I could focus.  I could relax.
 
I have to laugh looking back, because I had seen all the television shows where the doctor says, "ok, it's time to push now."  I didn't need anyone to tell me.  About an hour later, when I was talking with my sister-in-law, my body took over.  I couldn't have resisted pushing if my life depended on it!  The pitocin stopped coursing through my veins at this point. 

Having chosen a water birth, I got into the tub between contractions.  Relief flooded over me and every ounce of pain was gone.  I felt surrounded by warmth and focused on the task at hand.  I felt no pain while pushing, just the pressure.  I was euphoric.  My baby was coming!  Nyssa was placed into my arms at 8:49 on Friday, June 25, 2004.  I was ready to waltz down the hall with her.  I was so excited I felt I could run a marathon.  I told the midwife I was surprised at how well I felt and even said so aloud.  She smiled calmly, but reservedly, still focused on the job at hand.

The staff took my daughter, all 6 lbs. 5 ounces of her, and cleaned her off while I was helped out of the tub and onto a bed.  I wanted to hold her, but I was told to lie still.  I watched as the darling love of my life held our little miracle and sang to her.  Still feeling no pain, I didn't understand why I wasn't allowed to hold her. 

The midwife and doctor talked quietly in the hall for a few minutes, a conversation which my mother observed and related to me a couple weeks later.  They came back into the room and told me I needed some stitches.  So they gave me a local anesthetic and set to work.  Two hours later, they took me to my room with explicit instructions to not leave my bed for any reason until they gave me permission.  If I needed to get up for any reason at all, I was to call a nurse.  Not even my husband was allowed to help me the first day.

Nyssa was brought to us shortly after midnight and I finally got to hold her again.  She had failed the hearing test in her left ear so they had to run it several times due to fluid.  She roomed in with me, but I wasn't allowed to get her.  My husband or a staff member had to hand her to me and put her back in her little bed.  I wasn't even allowed to change her diaper until the second day.

I was on complete bed rest for 3 weeks and not allowed to pick up my daughter during that period.  I had to have someone hand her to me.  I was on limited bed rest for another month after that.  It wasn't until 9 weeks after she was born that I was completely out of danger.  My doctor explained to me in full what had happened that evening.  Upon hearing what he had to say, I realized that not one of the decisions my husband and I had made throughout the entire pregnancy had been an accident, nor had any of the incidents surrounding it.

My husband wanted me to have the baby in the hospital.  Instead of choosing Northside Hospital, the one most well known for its labor and delivery wing in the area, we chose one that is 5 minutes away from us because it was the one that allowed water births.  We chose a practice that was literally across the street from the hospital.  We chose the doctor who was not only the head OB/GYN at the hospital, but also the best surgical OB in the tri-state area.  Not only the midwife, but the doctor was at the hospital when I delivered Nyssa.  If any one of these decisions had been made differently, I may not have been here today. 

A year and 6 days later, at the same hospital, we welcomed Nathaniel into our family.  The only drama brought by him at the time was the fact that he was born 2 hours and 22 minutes after I went into labor with him.  He even arrived before the planned deliverer got to the hospital.

Life is full of surprises.  Sometimes life happens as we plan it, and sometimes things just work out differently.  Sometimes we have the opportunity to take our time and make decisions.  Sometimes we have to choose on the spur of the moment to do something we never thought we would do.  Sometimes the choice is made for us.  Sometimes life is full of one wave of pain after another, with no relief in sight.  But if we hold on fast and fix our eyes on the light at the end, we will endure. 

Sometimes we need the support of others to make it through.  It's all a matter of being surrounded with the right people at the right time, for the right purpose.  And just when we get to the point where we think we're going to break, something happens.  Someone reaches out a hand, offers a soothing word, offers what we need to help us over that last birthing pain.  Because if we endure, then after all the pain, after all the labor, after we have been drained to our extent, something precious appears to change us forever, and we know it has been worth it all.

Monday, March 14, 2011

A Moment in History

I often muse how my children can be forces of nature.  I comment on how they are tornadoes or whirlwinds that destroy rooms in a matter of seconds.  Then something happens and I am reminded that my own little palace is so miniscule in comparison to the rest of God's green earth. 

Sometimes events occur, totally out of control, with no time to prepare, and I am blindsided by something that rocks my world.  These catastrophes come, maybe not affecting myself physically, but they do shake the walls of my little palace, for there is more outside these walls.  I have friends on the outside, and when I hear of disasters that affect them, they affect me.  Two days ago, Friday, March 11, one such devastating blow came, unexpectedly, in the form of an earthquake off the coast of Japan.

The magnitude of this earth wrenching quake was 8.9.  Hundreds of people died.  Countless others were missing, and a multitude watched and trembled as their homes fell to the ground like a deck of cards.  The world watched and waited in silence, horrified by the videos and pictures plastered on the news and on the internet.  The earth continued to hiccup for quite some time, with many aftershocks registering at higher than 6.0 on the Richter Scale.  And the earth's groaning was still not complete.

So great were these pains that a 23 foot Tsunami wave tore into the country.  As if this weren't enough, the waves stretched outward into the Pacific Ocean and on towards the Philippines, Hawaii, countless other islands, and even so far as the western coast of the American continents.  The repercussions of the ground ripping apart continued for hours before the earth was quieted and still once more.

An earthquake comes with little or no warning, and once the rumbling begins, there is almost nothing to do but hold on and pray.  The people of Japan are aware of the dangers of such occurrences and have done all they can to minimize the destruction caused by this battle of tectonic plates.  Situated in the area known as the "Ring of Fire," Japan has the reputation of being the country that is probably most prepared for an earthquake such as this, and though many lives were lost, it could have been much, much worse.

 At least with the tsunamis, people in the rest of the Pacific had warning to get to higher ground and because of this, many lives were saved.  They were given a time table of when to expect the waves.  They knew, in most cases, where to go for safety and were able to get there in time.

It made me stop and think.  We may not always be given advanced notice for the devastation that may reach us.  Once it hits, there may be nothing we can do but hold on to our hats and pray.  But in the mean time, we must be aware of the probability that unexpected things will happen to us.  There are things we can do to prepare ourselves for the impact so that we can survive, maybe not unscathed, and maybe even badly bruised, but we can come out the other side.  Daily choices that that we make, sometimes without thought, can greatly impact the way we weather the storm that may not even yet be on the horizon.

Sometimes we are blessed with the advanced warning of what is to come.  And we should take advantage of that warning and respect the danger that is to come.  Instead of just sitting there worrying, we need to prepare.  We need to get our things in order now, while there is time, and decide what is most important to us.  What can we carry with us?  What is the most valuable? 

For me, it's my family.  It's my friends.  It's the relationships I have developed with people over the years.  I want to take them with me.  When hard times come and we struggle, sometimes I have to remember that the storm is the enemy, not them.  They are there with me, and it's up to all of us to hold on to one another and help each other to get to higher ground, to safety.

The full extent of the damage has not yet been felt.  The earthquake still takes its toll in Japan.  The effects of the tsunami the Philippines, Hawaii, California, and other areas are still being evaluated.  I was not there.  I cannot feel the pain and devastation as much as someone who was there.  I merely watched along with the rest of the world, eyes welling up and anxious for the many friends I have made in all these countries.  I got down on my knees and prayed, hoping, and waiting for word from any of these dear souls I have had the honor of getting to know.  Thankfully, I heard from most of them.  I continue to pray for the rest.  

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Ironing the Shirts

These last few weeks have been stressful.  My right iris was inflamed, a condition known as iritis, and then my left followed suit.  I'm still taking drops for them, but for a week I had to keep them both dilated to keep away the spasms.  I had to keep sunglasses on even indoors, so naturally it was the week my boys chose to start running off down the street regularly again.  The sun was blindingly painful as I chased them down time and time again, but we got through it.  Doctor appointments, school meetings, and other commitments have swarmed around me until I have felt suffocated by people and conditions and medical problems to the point that I wanted to scream. 

The laundry had piled up again.  It really doesn't take long for this mountain to take over hallways and bathrooms, not to mention the laundry room itself.  I didn't have time to do it with the aforementioned activities, but we needed clean clothes, and the only way they would get done was if I put them in the washer, the dryer, the laundry baskets, and finally, to their closet or drawer destinations.  This week, I decided to attack them with a fervor.  It was either that or buy us all some new clothes.

It's been ages since I've actually ironed my husband's shirts.  I hate to say it, but with 3 kids on the Autism Spectrum, and an 18 month old typical chatty, busy toddler, other things have taken precedence.  But the last couple of days as I've done the laundry, I made up my mind to toss his shirts into a pile on my recliner to iron them.  See, this is the love of my life, and he's had a tough week at work.  I wanted to do something to show him that I love him, in deed, and not just in words, and I know that is something he really appreciates.

Today I set up the ironing board, plugged in the iron, and set about the task at hand.  In 30 minutes, I had succeeded in ironing a grand total of 2 1/2 shirts.  It's not exactly a world record time, you understand, for most people can get at least 5 shirts done in that time, and I am pretty sure the average time is closer to 3 minutes a shirt.  But, I did manage to get those done.

Know what else I got done in that time?  I reprimanded a child for kicking another child in the stomach and calmed them both down.  I got the boys to pick up their puzzles that were strewn across their floor.  I talked Nyssa into putting away some of the folded clothes, and I put Gabriela down for her nap.  I also used the mean mommy voice when the kids got disrespectful...and called in the big guns, Daddy, when they decided not to obey.

I started getting all worked up over the mess in the house and frustrated because the kids weren't picking up their things.  Then my dear Richard reminded me of something we'd read recently.  Lots of Autistic kids who get into stubborn modes (such as mine were in today) don't respond well to negative reinforcement, but many do respond well to positive rewards.  So, I decided to take his lead and tell them that if they helped me for 30 minutes with little breaks in between tasks, I would have a special surprise for them.  In the next half hour, I had managed to iron 6 more shirts.

The older two got to go to the mall with me and play in the play area after getting some new shoes, especially having both gone on a growth spurt.  They got to choose little puzzle erasers for being good helpers.  They got to choose a special cookie each for their obedience, as well.  They had a fun experience, and so did I, and we set off for home when Nyssa started to get overstimulated so we'd end on a good note.

When we got home, Richard had dinner all ready for us.  Did I mention how sweet he can be?  By time the kids went to bed, I had managed to get most of the ironing completed. 

My life has felt like a tsunami recently.  Flooded with chores and Nathaniel's outbursts at school, not to mention regular daily life, I have felt overwhelmed, like the 5 loads of laundry that were piled in my family room this morning.  But if I just take each event, one by one, and don't look everything at once, it's easier to digest. 

Though ironing is a chore, I had forgotten how peaceful it is.  The rhythmic back and forth motion of the iron itself in my hands, smoothing out the material as I go across the fabric, is soothing.  It is calming in a way I had forgotten, but relished today.  Life is full of ups and downs, mountains and valleys, and there are often a few wrinkles that have to be smoothed out along the way.  I'm ever so thankful for the moments such as today, when the hissing of the steam reminded me of the gentle waves flowing over the beach, washing away the cares of the last few weeks, almost hypnotically bringing stillness to my soul once more.