Decade in Review

I saw this on another blog I read, so I'm going to shamelessly steal her idea.

On NYE of 1999, I was 18 and spent it with Anthony of Kentucky fame (if you don't know that story, I'll recap it later. It involved stupidity on my part and a lot of douchiness on his part). That relationship ended a few months after that and man, thank God it did. I was a freshman in college that year and had just moved out of my parent's house and into the dorms. I remember calling my mom after midnight to laugh at her, because the world as we knew it did not end (she'd fallen hook, line, and sinker for the Y2K hysteria and had done things like stockpile wheat and canned goods).

2000-2001 was a drama year. Dated a guy off and on, and in the "off" periods dated around a bit. Dating and being 19 means drama. I got my first apartment, a little 400 square foot efficiency with a sink so small you couldn't put a dinner plate flat in it. My refrigerator was in my living room, and my bed was seperated from the living room by a half wall. I loved it at the time, because it was MY place that I paid for on my own.

NYE of 2001 was notable night because that was the night that Jacob and I got together. I'd met him a few times before that when I'd drive from San Marcos to the Westlake IHOP to "study" (read: hang out and take over the smoking section while occasionally doing homework) with Jacq and Megan. Jacob worked with Megan at the same Wal-Mart, so he was part of the "study" group. He was shy, and I was dating someone else at the time, so it never went beyond a "hi" until NYE of 2001. I'd broken up with the guy I'd been dating, and Megan invited me to come to Slick Willie's to play pool. I got there before Jacob did, and happened to look up as he walked in the door. I still don't know why I thought this, but as he walked in the door, I thought "If I were to date him, it'd be really serious". I then immediately thought I was being ridiculous. Later that night, the whole group went back to Megan's house to watch the ball drop on TV. I took off my shoes and socks since I was planning to spend the night. Jacob was standing by himself in a corner looking uncomfortable, so I threw my socks at him. That broke the ice, and he and I have been together pretty much ever since.


2002 was pretty uneventful. I graduated from college in 2003, and got my first teaching job in January of 2004. Jacob proposed in the spring of 2004 and we moved in together that May. The rest of that year was spent as a first-year teacher and wedding planning. We got married in 2005 and bought our first house together a few months later, and I transferred to the school I teach at now to get away from my lunatic boss.


In June of 2006 we decided to try to have a baby, and I got pregnant right away with Kenneth. Other than gaining way too much weight, that pregnancy was very uneventful until we went in for my 16 week ultrasound. We found out he was a boy, and then the next day my OB/GYN called me personally at 9am and told me that it looked like the left side of the baby's heart was too small. He told me I shouldn't worry, that it was probably nothing, but that I should go see a pediatric cardiologist in 5 weeks to make sure. I spent the rest of the day freaked out about it, and then refused to think about it at all until the night before my appointment with the pedi card. I let myself google "small left ventricle" that night and found out that the doctor thought my baby might have Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, a defect that had the words "uniformly fatal in the first days or weeks of life if untreated" in its descriptions. Needless to say, I freaked. The next day brought the fetal echocardiogram at the pediatric cardiologist's office, where a diagnosis of Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome was confirmed and the options were given. The rest of 2006 was spent going to more doctor's appointments than I can count, and making plans and decisions to try to prepare for the birth of our very sick baby.



2007 was Kenneth's year. He was born on March 14, had his first surgery at 5 days old, and was put on ECMO (Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation; it's a huge machine that does the work of the heart and lungs for the body) after surgery because his heart wasn't coping. That month was a hellish rollercoaster of hopes raised and dashed, until finally we had to make the decision to try one last-ditch effort to fix his heart enough to function without ECMO, and then remove ECMO support for good or bad. He had been in secondary organ failure (kidney failure) since his first surgery, so he wasn't a candidate for a heart transplant. On April 17, he went in for a surgery to replace his defective aortic valve with a donor valve, and ECMO support was removed. He passed away in the OR and my world was shattered.

The funeral was April 21, and most of the days for the next few months after that are a blur of grieving. Grief has a life of its own and it irrevocably changes you, especially if you're grieving your lost child. I went back to work in the fall of 2007 and we did our best to live normally. When NYE of 2007 rolled around, both of us were just relieved that the year was over.



2008 was Grant's year. After months of trying, I got my OB/GYN to give me Clomid. 2 months in of Clomid treatment and I was pregnant again. The pregnancy was eventful, since I ended up with preterm labor and bedrest from the middle of September until I had Grant at 37 weeks on November 25, but it resulted in my wonderful Grant. Grant has been the picture of health since day 1, and once I got through post-partum depression (thank you, SSRIs) and got the hang of breastfeeding, it's been wonderful. He brought the light back into my life.


In 2009 we got to watch Grant grow, we sold our first home and we bought our second. We're dealing with foundation issues with the new house, but I think it will eventually get resolved in a positive way.

Overall, the past decade has been a whirlwind of major life events. I've had wonderful highs and terrible lows, but overall I have to say I've been blessed. This decade saw me marry the love of my life, get a good job in a career I enjoy, and give birth to two amazing sons. I have a comfortable home and I don't lack for anything that I need. Life has been hard, but it has also been wonderful. I can't hope for anything more. Happy New Year.

Now I'm really ticked

I said I wouldn't go into brother-in-law's nonsense in the last blog, but I think I will. I need to vent.

BIL was invited to come here from New Mexico for Christmas. He's bringing his friend/roommate that has become an adopted family member. He owns two spoiled rotten Lhasa Apsos that he apparently thinks are just like people.

BIL sent an e-mail out to the whole family this week announcing that he'd be bringing his dogs to my house and leave them kenneled in my garage for the three days he'd be here. He didn't ask us if that would be okay, he just announced it. I told him that I wasn't comfortable with that idea, and gave him the name and number for a reputable boarding business here in town that I've used before with my own pets.

This sets off a series of hissy fits via e-mail, with BIL doing everything in his power to try to manipulate me into giving in and saying the dogs can come. Since I don't take kindly to that sort of thing, and I have my own very good reasons for not wanting two spoiled dogs coming to my house, I once again told him no. My father-in-law even offered to pay for a pet-friendly hotel room for him, and that wasn't good enough ("I'd be too worried that the maids might let them out or steal them"). He sent me another e-mail trying to get me to cave in. I haven't responded yet.

For posterity, here are the reasons I don't want two yappy dogs that haven't been trained in my home:

*I have a large dog that doesn't like small dogs and who has never been introduced to the yappers. I don't want a dog fight on my hands.

*I have a 13 month old who likes to climb on dogs, pull their ears, etc. My dog is very patient with all of this and usually will just sit there and let him do it. Lhasa Apsos are not known as being a patient breed.

*The dogs aren't trained. They get into everything. They get on the furniture. I don't allow that sort of thing from my own dog, so why would I want it from someone else's?

*Let's say he actually does leave them kenneled in the garage the whole time like he swears (I doubt this. If I cave to letting him bring them, the next campaign would be for me to let them come out of their crates.). My cats get their food and water in the garage. Their litterbox is also out there. It's where they go to hide when they're overwhelmed by company, small children, etc. If I have two constantly yapping little dogs out there, the cats won't go in. This will mean cats that pee outside of their litterbox, most likely inside my house. Ever tried to get cat pee smell out of something?

*Finally, BIL didn't ASK if they could come, he TOLD us they were coming. I don't appreciate being told what to do in my own home.

I'm super pissed. Jacob says if BIL keeps this up, he'll find himself uninvited for Christmas. At this point, BIL can stay home for all I care, but he's his roommate's ride down here and I really was looking forward to seeing her. I'm not going to allow a manipulator to win, though. If I cave in, then he'll just push the boundaries on another issue. GRRR.

Pissed off

My husband's family is about to try the last ounce of patience that I have. I won't go into the latest reason why, but I do want some feed back on my father-in-law (he's not the most recent offender). FIL likes to ignore what I say about Grant, or argue with me. He apparently doesn't remember what it was like to raise babies, because he will do things that are not safe (try to feed Grant a tortilla chip when he has no molars) or not in the best interest of the baby (try to wake Grant up from a nap early because he thinks he's slept long enough).

I've been patient. I've explained my reasons, and I've told him more than once. I'm at my limit now. It's been building up for a while. Things like waiting until he thinks I'm not looking to give Grant coffee creamer when he was 3 months old after I'd specifically told him not to. Things like feeding him bite after bite after bite of his dessert at a restaurant when I got up to use the bathroom, after me telling him Grant could have ONE bite. Things like him arguing with me about giving Grant juice (Me: It's got too much sugar and he doesn't need it. Him: Well, you let him have fruit, he should have juice!). Things like getting him up from his naps when Grant's still asleep. The final straw was this last visit. It was 6 am, and we don't get Grant out of bed that early. If he wakes up, we leave him in his crib unless he starts to cry. Most mornings he'll just play with his stuffed dog and talk and then fall back asleep for a while longer. My FIL decided to get him out of bed while I was getting ready for work, even though I've told him several times on other visits that we don't get him out of bed that early. He then argued with my husband about it when he (for once, finally) told him that it wasn't okay to do that.

It makes me feel incredibly disrespected in my own home. I'm Grant's mom, and the decisions I make for him go. I don't care if FIL thinks I'm being dumb. He doesn't have to agree, he doesn't have to like it, he just has to follow our wishes when it comes to OUR SON and stop going behind our backs to do what he wants to do. I told Jacob that he needed to talk to his dad and be very clear with him that it was not going to be pretty if he ignored our rules for Grant on this next visit. I will have words with him if he pulls that crap even one more time.

It's hard because he's not a bad guy and he loves Grant to pieces. He's just used to being in charge of the family, and I don't think it's fully sunk in with him that Jacob is edging up to 30, is a married father of two, has an established career and is a second-time homeowner.... in other words, an ADULT. I think that some small part of my FIL's brain still sees Jacob as a kid, and therefore what FIL wants to happen should happen. Jacob has a hard time standing up to him because he respects and loves his dad. I think Jacob is finally starting to realize that he's got to stand up for me with his parents, because otherwise it's going to create some serious friction in our marriage.

Am I totally off base here, or is FIL out of line?
Is it crazy that I get jealous of heart moms that still have their kids here? I see them post updates on how their kids are doing and it just makes my heart ache. Kenneth would most likely have been up for his Fontan right about now if he had made it. I'm thankful that he's out of pain and will never have to endure another surgery, but the selfish side of me wishes he were still here regardless.

I haven't had one day go by that I haven't relived some part of Kenneth's hospital stay. I know that I've got some PTSD from it, but in a way I don't want to let go of those memories even if they are traumatic. Those memories are all that I have left of him. I'm jealous of the moms that have been able to make memories with their kids outside of the hospital. Is that terrible?
I had a blog topic come to me just now that I think is actually a pretty good one. It'd be good if people reading wanted to answer it for themselves, or add their own observations. My topic: How has being a wife and mother changed me?

Being a wife has helped me to mellow my strong will a little bit. I have a very "take charge" kind of personality, and I tend to latch on to an opinion or a way of doing something and run with it. That's a strength when you're a teacher, but it can be a weakness in your personal relationships since grown adults tend to resent feeling like they're being told what to do. Jacob helps me to recognize that fault in my personality and attempt to rein it in a little-- not that I'm always successful. Being a wife means that I no longer think in terms of "I" when I make decisions, but in terms of our family. It means I have to put another person's well-being above my own, which isn't always easy to do.

Being a mother has changed me the most, I think. Being a mother to a sick child is hard, and being the mother of a sick child that died is excruciating. Being a mother taught me what unconditional love really is. It's taught me that I am willing to endure anything at all if it means that my children are taken care of. It's taught me that being someone's mommy is the most important role I could ever fill. It's taught me to cherish every second of life, because life is uncertain and fleeting. It's taught me that I'd much rather get open-mouthed slobbery baby kisses and snuggles on the couch from my son than go out. Being a mother means that I willingly sacrifice things for my children that I would resent losing for anyone else.

My first child changed me in ways that I probably don't even notice fully. I know that I smile less than I did before. I know that I have a constant ache because he's not here. At the same time, I value life more because he showed me just how precious it really is.

My second child showed me that even after extreme hardship, joy is possible. He has changed me back into a closer semblance of the person I was before Kenneth died, and I don't think anyone else could have accomplished that.

Your turn now. Either comment on ways that you've seen me change since becoming a wife and a mom (if you've known me long enough to compare), or comment on how marriage/parenthood has changed or would change you. Should be interesting.