My Rock

I'm married to a man who loves me. His love is evident and I am his priority, that I should be sure of. But I can be insecure and needy, I can question his love for me. I have a saying when I'm struggling with this, "I need some Markie time." It's a true craving I feel when our connection has been weak. When we've been running the rat race and not spending quality time together. When my soul needs to reconnect with the soul I need the most to make me feel whole. I don't always see his love as clearly as I should when he is trying to balance work, family, his life and me. Jobs and the almighty dollar often rules people's lives. You need it to survive and it also helps us to live. Vacations, times out on the town, activities with loved ones are all memory builders that need money. Sure money can't buy love, but there is no denying it buys things to make life and love more fun. Mark and I have not made many decisions in life based on getting ahead and making more money. We have done what was right and we have done what would help our family the most. That may mean what brings the most peace and or stability to our challenging family. We have chosen what was the best moral path for us. We have chosen the mentally healthy path for all our family. When life gets to me, Mark is who I seek. He calms my frazzled soul. His presence gives me strength. His words are often wise. I know he always comes from a place of caring. Mark has no hidden agenda with me, he is my rock and he loves me unconditionally. I sometimes question if I am as good as he is? I am much more opinionated. If I strongly take a stand, Mark will always back me. This can be frustrating though. I have heard myself call him a martyr. He rarely pushes an opposing side to mine. I cannot get his own thoughts on a problem or a decision that needs to be made because his words are the same "whatever you want, I want." In many ways his indecision makes our life easier because we rarely disagree. In some ways it makes life harder for me. Much is on my shoulders, I carry a lot of the weight and if I take us down the wrong path, I own it. I struggle with making many decisions alone and often seek my friend's opinions. Those who are married to opinionated men are jealous of my easy going husband. Mark is sweet, kind, loving and thoughtful. Our friendship is strong and it has an incredible ease to it. My niece recently asked me if I knew from the start that Mark and I should be together forever? I did, I felt safe with Mark. I felt cared for and loved beyond anything I had ever felt. The immediate ease of our relationship was like we had been together forever. Our friends commented from the beginning on how natural and comfortable we seemed. I am not sure what I believe in when it comes to afterlife. I believe in a heaven, but I have also thought that Mark and I must have been together some time before this life? I think about past lives, our growing and learning from them. Maybe we acquire different skills from each life to take to the next? Maybe it is our failure at a skill in a past life that we try to learn in our present life? My dreams sometimes feel like windows into those lives I already lived. What are my lessons in this life? Did I need to learn compassion, letting go, trust? Mark says I think too much, he's probably right. Maybe I just need to live in the presence and have faith it's all in God's plan, just like Mark believes...

The Doc's, part three

The anger and sadness hurt so badly I felt like I was losing myself. I wanted to run, this was too much and I wanted to be done. Parenthood should not hurt this much. Other parents didn't experience this level of pain, did they? It would be years before I would connect with families who also understood this pain. I would never be happy for their pain, but the understanding made my life so much more tolerable. But this was not the day I had expected to have. It was October 21st, 2005, a Friday. That night a long time family friend's daughter was getting married. It was their only child and it was sure to be a beautiful wedding. I love a wedding, I love sitting through the vows while holding my husband's hand and thinking about our own special day many years ago. I love that our love is so strong and the meaning of the ceremony is so much more powerful to me as we age. I took it seriously as a young bride, but today, in our relationship, in our marriage, I feel even more blessed and even more in love than ever. We have lived much happiness and we have lived much pain. There is some truth that what doesn't kill you, strengthens you. We have grown together, learning from life and one another. We have loved each other with a strength that builds. Often when I say "I love you," Mark responds "I love you more," but it doesn't stop there because I believe "I love him more" to which he always replies "You obviously don't understand the meaning of infinity." Infinity, that is what makes our marriage, we are here for each other forever. When we said those vows many years ago, maybe we did not understand how committed we would be to each other? As I age, I see our marriage as not only solid in love, but also a firm commitment to each other and our God. Sure we have had hard times, moments when the grass looked a little greener on the other side. We worked through tough times because, let's face it, the grass still needs tending and mowing in the neighbors yard too. As I let go of the fact that we would not be spending the night celebrating a new marriage, we would instead spend it hospitalizing our daughter. I realized our marriage was even strong enough to get through this crisis. I packed Teale, struggling with what to send to a hospital where she would know no one. I filled her suitcase with favorites and hoped I wasn't forgetting something that she would want. I called our friends to let them know we probably would not make the wedding, leaving a small opening, just in case. My sister was disappointed and was in touch much of the night, just hoping I would pull myself together and come, even for a short time. I just couldn't though, my heart ached so much I felt like bursting. I had cried for so long my eyes were swollen and red. No make up could fix me, celebrating would be impossible. Who besides Mark could understand this pain I was feeling? I have faked joy through many tough times, but this time I just could not do it. I felt like I would be a downer at an event where no one should be. My Mom, my brother and a few close friends came to comfort me. All their words were few, their compassion and care was evident though and that meant more than words. Afterall, what could you say to a Mom in this much pain and uncertainty? My friends stayed with me while Mark went to Teale's school to get her and take her to ER. He would need to insist on a pediatric psychiatry admission. Dr Tom called ahead to the hospital. Dr Dave supported Dr Tom's advice, Mark and I needed relef, we were failing too. The unknown was killing me as I waited for a call from Mark. I had Gwenn and Beau and quite frankly I was a basket case. It was decided it was best for me to not go with Mark to the hospital, leaving my Teale would be just too heartbreaking. No matter how much I knew she and our family needed this help, I just couldn't do it. Thank God for Mark, he was strong, levelheaded and loving. I trusted he was doing the right thing and would not leave my daughter, our daughter, someplace unsafe. I had to trust or I might lose more than just sleep. Teale's seizures are never less than 45 minutes long and they have been close to two hours long. I could not be responsible for her having a big one that caused her more brain damage or even death, I had to trust the help was going to work. I had to trust Dr Tom, Dr Dave and Mark. I had to let go of my anger and pray for relief. It would be hours before Mark could call me and let me know how things were going. My friend stayed with me and let me cry and talk and sit in silence. Those hours were torturous, but in the end it was one of the best things we ever did for Teale. ~to be continued~

The Doc's, part two

Then there is Dr Tom. Dr Tom and I have fought like a married couple. Mark and I have had stages with Teale that were wrecking us all, but one in particular put Dr Tom and I at odds. Dr Tom is Teale's psychiatrist, but quite frankly he might as well be the family psychiatrist. At one time or another he has helped with each of us. He doesn't bill for all our care, but he is a smart, caring man and he gets that we all live this, not just Teale. He knows Mark and I need to stay stable and healthy to live with our challenges. He knows Beau and Gwenn struggle with loses of normalcy too. He has seen us all demonstrate post traumatic stress syndrome in stages of Teale's mental illness when being on our guard constantly is our only defense. Dr Tom is empathetic and extremely intelligent. He knows the options for care out there and he understands the medications he prescribes with amazing insight. When Teale was about three years old the behaviors started escalating. I was pregnant with Gwenn and all of our world was crashing. Teale had become defiant and explosive, her sleep sporadic and her behavior exhausting, unpredictable and often violent. Luckily for me, I was on the search committee for a new minister at our church. The woman we had appointed as the chair of the committee was a counsellor and a personal friend of Dr Tom's. As God often does in my life, I was in the right place at the right time. I was sharing our struggles with my friend and the chair of the committee one night after our meeting ended. She listened with care and then said she would contact her friend Dr Tom for me. Within days I had our first appointment. I often wonder where we would be today had Dr Tom not come into our lives. He and Dr Dave work hand in hand to help Teale. They are a dynamic duo and when I am in trouble, as in, when Teale is in a rough patch, they are both there for us. Texting them is common in this relationship, they have both come to respect my opinion and know that I will not pull them in unless I am truly struggling. Dr Tom and I had had about three years under our belt when Teale's most intense mental break happened. She was in the first grade and stopped sleeping. I know most will find this hard to believe. Many will think I am over exaggerating the truth, but I kid you not, Teale went from sleeping 10 to 12 hours a night, to sleeping two or three hours a night. After she woke for the night, she was "ON." Mark and I were fried by a couple of weeks of this. We had a daycare to run everyday for ten plus kids and we had Beau and Gwenn too. The school was finding it tough to believe what we were telling them, after all Teale was fine at school, her usual full of energy self. Thank goodness Dr Tom and Dr Dave didn't doubt what we were saying. We tried every sleep aid safe to a 6 year old and many that were questionable too. She was taking adult prescriptions like Ambien, with little to no relief. Dr Tom prescribed and we kept hoping the cure was coming, but every night was the same. Teale would sleep the first hour to three after putting her to bed and then be up the rest of the night. I never felt like Dr Tom or Dr Dave doubted us, but after a month of such little sleep I was becoming doubtful of myself. My mental state was skewed. I was not sure what was real anymore and my very core ached for relief. The school finally started to see it too, Teale's behavior was escalating and she was having spells that looked like seizures. The day I told Mark "I know I won't do it, but I'm as close to suicide as a person can be." Dr Tom and I fought. We had been in touch with both doctors multiple times a day. The exhaustion was simply overwhelming. Our extended families were not there for us and our friends did not know how to help us. There was no relief in this nightmare. Mark and I against the world and quite frankly, the world was winning. Then Dr Tom and Dr Dave saw what needed to be done, the solution was to hospitalize my six year old, severely disabled child. We were to take her to emergency and have her admitted into the child psychiatry ward. Teale, who needed sign language for understanding, who wore a leg brace and a hand brace to help with her cerebral palsy. Teale, who had hearing aids that cost a fortune and unless you knew the signs, she would try to destroy in a rage. Teale had GI issues and her speech was not easily understood, her frustration escalated with misunderstanding. Teale hates being touched, so her personal hygiene was a challenge to work through. She took many medications and often those meds had to be administered in a forceful manner. To have strangers, who did not know and love her do this, scared me. These were just some of the thoughts going through me. Dr Tom was asking me to hand over my daughter to "the R wing" as it is commonly referred to. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest went through my head, would Teale be restrained, would she be locked up into a padded room? What monster would suggest this as the solution to my 6 year old's sleep issues? But her seizures also scared me and that was the deciding factor. I knew of children who had gotten into seizures that could not be stopped and they had passed. Teale needed sleep or her seizures were sure to get worse. So while Dr Tom and I fought over this decision, Mark tried to calm me and help me see it was our only option. I was mad, no I was FURIOUS. God was letting me down and I could not understand why my daughter suffered so much. What God would allow this? Why us, what had we done so wrong?   ~to be continued~

The Doc's

A doctor visit with Teale can be a challenge. She may not cooperate with the directions, she may explode at just the idea of walking into a doctors office. Simple tasks like taking her blood pressure, weight and height can take much negotiation. A doctor not giving Teale the time she needs to process what the doctor is asking her to do or a doctor touching her without fair warning, can take us to square one and the appointment may need to be abandoned and rescheduled. I go to appointments knowing we may not accomplish what we hope to. I have many, many memories of appointments gone bad. Teale and I  have been seeing doctors and much more than the average person, since before she was born. From that first ultrasound where the discovery was made that her stomach had not closed in utero, there have been many specialists in Teale's life. Doctors are people, there are good natured ones who click with Teale and there are ones that I wonder why they chose the profession they did. Luckily for Teale, we have two very special doctors in our life that have mostly managed Teale's care. Her pediatrician from birth was a great guy, he was bold, outspoken and caring beyond measure. His love of children was evident and his management of care extended to the whole family. He always made me feel like I was an important part of my children's team, even in the areas I had very little experience in. He valued parent's input and taught me advocacy from the start of my children's lives. So when he called me one day to tell me that he and his wife were moving out of state, my heart broke. I seriously wondered how I would ever replace Dr Matt? I even joked with Mark that maybe we should follow him to his new location. After getting over the heartache of his leaving us, we stuck with his recommendation and started working with his replacement. Dr Matt had told me he picked this young, smart, caring guy and he thought we would work well together. At first, I wasn't sure. I liked him well enough, but he was green and Dr Matt had been seasoned. My life was complicated medically for my daughter Teale. Dr Matt had been there through my pregnancy with Teale. He had been there at the horrific birth and knew the pain we had endured. He had watched Teale grow and seen the work we put into making her life all it could be. I just couldn't imagine someone new grasping what we had gone through in those first three years of Teale's life. But as life has a way of doing, it has all worked out. Dr Dave came into our life and his ways, although quite different from Dr Matt's, have grown on me. He is not nearly as in your face as Dr Matt was, he's gentle and kind. Dr Matt was rough and direct, but that is much how I am, so I appreciated his blunt honesty. Eleven years have passed, much like a blink of the eye and in those years Dr Dave has become my children's pediatrician and an intricate part of our team of medical support. We don't hang out together or have double dates with our spouses, but he is there for me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, much like family should be. I can text him when I'm worried and something is wrong with one of my kids and he will answer. We have built a trust and he knows I seldom overreact or pull him in unless I am truly concerned and rightfully so. He has stuck by us and given us hope in even the most hopeless times of our life. Dr Dave has managed all the doctors in Teale's life with professionalism and grace. He has calmed Mark and my fears, he has helped us find solace and he has prayed for our peace. Dr Dave has been more than just my children's pediatrician, he has been a dear friend. We work together well and our trust in each other is much like a marriage. We count on each other to put together the pieces my children's physical and emotional health. He is the type of person everyone looks up to, calm, caring, loyal, thoughtful and smart. I feel blessed to call him our children's pediatrician, not everyone finds someone who sticks by then in thick or thin, but Dr Dave has and for this alone, I am forever grateful.         ~to be continued~

24 Valentines

This week was Valentine's Day and I celebrated my 24th one with the love of my life. At twenty one years old I started dating Mark. On our first Valentine's Day together he asked me to marry him. We had been dating less than two months, but as cliche as it sounds, when you know, you know. Celebrating that day means much to me, as it was the start of my life with a man I still find extrodoary. Mark is kind, patient, smart, loving, talented, giving, loyal and beyond a shadow of a doubt, my rock. He lifts me when I'm down, he makes me laugh and shares my same twisted sense of humor when things are tough. We are steady, even and consistent in our love and in our friendship. We barely ever argue or even quarrel. He is the person I choose to be with when given the option, I enjoy his company and have grown more fond of him as we age. We worked together for over fifteen years running our in home daycare. We raised many people's children and then also our own. I can honestly say I enjoyed working with him immensely and still miss those days. Mark is a hard worker and we share the same priorities in life. Our marriage has always come first. He and I need to be strong to care for our complicated family. I have often said to people that "we are selfish." We work hard at staying connected, at staying friends and enjoying life beyond our children. My God has always been first, but Mark is my close second. Our relationship is a covenant with God, we are in our marriage with Him. So as we age and things change in our life, my God and Mark are the only sure things I count on. My children are growing, our oldest son applied to five colleges just this past week. He will be moving on and living his own life. Of course I expect and hope our son will stay close and always be a part of our life. But children grow and the ultimate goal is to raise them well, so that they are contributing parts of society. So if we reach that goal and the children move out to start their own lives, what is left? I have seen the breakdown of many marriages. Couples who suddenly seemed to have nothing in common after the child raising years. Couples who slowly grew apart and just couldn't get the spark back. Couples who thought life would be easier or more fun with someone new. We have purposely worked hard to not become any of those couples. We have been creative in our dating each other, even when times were tough. Even if our middle daughter Teale was spiraling and could not be left in the care of others, we would find a way to steal precious time together, just the two of us. Many dates in bad times were at home, a nice dinner, our Wedding china, candlelight and music in our own dining room after the kids went to bed. Daydates, where we steal a date together while the kids were in school became the norm after we closed our in home daycare. Respite was used too, people who truly could handle and be trusted with Teale in our home or in the community. We also would date after hours, putting the kids to bed ourselves and then leaving them in care of someone who would call us if anyone woke. Our cell phones became a way to get some freedom and see a band that started late or just go sit someplace different and talk about anything but the kids. We built a good support and as Teale got older and "easier" our nieces also often helped us. We forced ourselves to use overnight respite. As strange as it has always been for me, Teale has gone to a local respite home here or there since she was about five years old. Our marriage hasn't been easy because we are just lucky, our marriage has taken  work and we made it a priority. So as we planned our Valentine's Day date, I looked back on how we have evolved. We were once a young, happy couple with the world to conquer ahead of us. We may not have conquered as much as we hoped to, but when I look at my life with Mark, I am proud of what we have been to each other and I just know "the best is yet to be...."

The Unseen Plan

I have watched as my Mother in law has become a shadow of her former self. I have heard her struggle with words, the thoughts just won't come. I have worried that this disease will someday take grasp of my husband, taking away the dream of our golden years together with grandchildren around us. I have seen her become fragile, childlike even. Her strong, independent, colder personality gone. This woman is warmer, kinder and more appreciative of my care as time ticks on. When I first met her I was hurt by her distance toward me. She didn't seem to want to connect. Mark was apologetic, I remember him calling her "a weird lady." Mark had a girlfriend before me that was very intelligent, in her masters program and obviously an independent woman. She was planning on pursuing a career before anything else. I  remember feeling like I was a disappointment to to Mark's Mom. Education was more important to her than it was to me. I had chosen to leave college to be a Nanny because that was where me heart was. My Mom was disappointed also that I left college, but knowing I was happy, she soon supported my dream of opening up an in home daycare. My Mom allowed me to run the daycare in her home, the sound of happy children filling what had been an empty house, once again. The children called her Grandma & for many of them she was. I worked long hours, but I loved my job, kids had always been who I wanted to be with. I love the way children are hopeful, full of life and promise. I loved caring for people's most precious gifts from God, knowing in my care they were safe and loved. It meant the world to me when friends or family would ask me to care for their children. In turn, I was also hurt when friends did not seek my care. I took it very personal, I knew I had chosen this career for just that purpose, to love and care for family and friend's children. I was helping to build self esteem, creativity and give children what every child deserves, a place that was fun, loving and kind. I wanted "my kids," the daycare kids, to enjoy their time with me. As the parents said goodbye, I wanted them to know that their children, although they would prefer being with a parent, were in good hands. I built relationships with families that to this day still exist. I have ex daycare children in their twenties and thirties who still connect with me. Watching them grow and become productive people in our society is a real kick. Some don't even remember their time with me, as they were too young to have memories of it, but their parents have kept me alive in their hearts. I worked with children because I knew that was where I belonged. Older people I did not feel I had a gift for. My grandparents were a different story, my Grandmother was one of my best friends. But as a younger person I found the end of life cycle very sad and hopeless. I could never imagine working with senior citizens. But here I am, my Mother in law is 85 years old and quit frankly declining. Her Parkinson's and dementia is taking it's toll on her aging body. She has been with my family for two and a half years. It is amazing to me that as a younger person I could have never imagined me as her caregiver but in many ways, it has come to me very naturally. Mostly because she is very childlike, she needs much care and encouragement. I have joked with her that I had always wanted a forth child, but I always dreamt my forth child would be a baby boy. I think the parallels of children and senior citizens are incredibly similar. I could not have seen this coming though, moving my mother in law in with us was truly a gift of heart. I knew my husband needed it, he needed her to be in my care because he knew I would go above and beyond for her. That was the biggest compliment of all, his trust in me to care for his aging Mom. When people ask me how we do it, how I do it, my answer is the same, because I love Mark and this is what he needed. He is loving and appreciative of my being here for his Mom. He knows she and I were never very close in the years we could have connected. The years Mark and I struggled, she barely reached out to help us. I never saw her try very hard to build relationships with any of our children. I remember feeling sad and disappointed at her lack of interest in especially Teale's life. But as time marches on, as she has become part of our immediate family, she has healed much of that pain I felt. Her connection with my beloved Teale is sweet and their abilities are very similar as Mom declines and Teale matures. There are even times Teale helps my Mother in law. The two of them can enjoy an American Girl Doll catalogue for over an hour, discussing the details of the dolls and what each of them likes. My heart has opened more to my Mother in law because hers has. No, she is no longer independent and strong. She no longer can  relieve some of our stress by helping us, that opportunity has passed. Really, we can no longer even have conversations to build our relationship. She is mostly stuck in silence but Gods plan has worked, we now have a love, that I will feel forever.

Stuff

Working through stuff is never easy. I've learned we are never really done working through the pains of our past. Some people are better at letting things go and moving on. Some hold onto anger and loss with both hands, holding it so close to their hearts they are rotting inside. For me personally it depends how much the stuff still effects me. I look at my daughter everyday and I still wonder "what if?" The trying to come to grips with what her life is and how it effects my life is quit frankly, a constant. Whether it is in a formal setting, like a counsellors office where I am sharing my deepest feelings or it is in my own head. I regularly debate ways to get through to Teale and help her more effectively. I am often occupied with how to improve her quality of life. I work through feelings in informal ways too. Talking with my husband or with friends, who can empathize and help me come up with solutions or rejoice in an accomplishment or a blessing. The loss of what Teale's life should have been is always in my face, therefore I am always working on it. The losses of my childhood have faded. I remember the good, more than the bad. I worked through that stuff so long ago, it barely ever haunts me now. I believe that is mostly because I have built a good support network and am surrounded by much love and caring. My own marriage is strong and fulfilling. I feel safe, loved and secure in my life with my husband. Sure, I go through times when I'm questioning if we are really as happy as I think, but I have found I go through those times when an outside factor has crept in and corrupted my sense of security. When friends and family members have divorced, I have become insecure and clingy. I know this about myself and Mark has learned to live with it too. I may ask him if he loves me, if he will always love me, if we are really going to "make it" several times in a day. He has learned to just reassure me and help me work through these times with love. The feelings pass faster with more hugs, than with criticism for my sudden strange fears. Mark knows my father's infidelity comes out when I hear of a couple whose marriage is in trouble. Especially if the marriage is ending in infidelity. I may even question Mark's loyalty to me in such a time. Even though, I know in my heart that Mark is faithful and good. He has learned, it's not about him, it's about what I have lived, therefore he is not hurt or angry. I believe that has been a lesson Mark and I have learned well. Often it is our own "stuff" that creeps into our marriage and causes us pain. Mark has never caused me to doubt him in our marriage and I think he would say the same about me. Stuff creeps into good because your memory of bad is so strong. I have had many more good experiences in my life with Teale, than I have had bad. Unfortunately the bad sour the good so intensely. I often can't recall the times someone was loving and compassionate toward us. Ironically, I can instantly recall the grocery store meltdown & the person who treated me like a bad parent. The people who were cruel come to mind faster than the people who stood by our sides with compassion, empathy and love. This frustrates me about myself. Why do I seem to have to work harder to remember the good stories. Maybe this is a skill I have yet to master, empathizing the good in my life. Stuff, stuff creeps into our hearts and hardens us if we let it. It makes us remember things we wish we had forgotten. That's why we don't want to work through our pain, working through it can make it hurt more before you finally release it. I have had my fair share of stuff to work through though and in the end I always find it is easier to feel it and release it, than to let it rot you from the inside...