Nearing the End.

Everything is on hold right now and I am struggling. 

I haven't had time to do anything. 

In fact, 

now that I think about it, 

I can't really even tell you what I'm doing with my days now.

I barely get meals on the table.

The laundry is piled high.

The mail needs to be sifted through and I need to figure out things

I have school to study for

and life just feels like it's going in slow motion.

Everytime my phone rings, I jump.

Everytime I close my eyes, I think of his face.

And the oddest things have been happening to me.

You probably wouldn't even believe it if I told you.

He's straddling this life and his next

and we just feel so hopeless.

It's hard watching someone die

while you can't do anything about it.

He is literally drowning.

And we can only stand beside him and comfort him when we can.

My Poppy's greatest joy and accomplishment was his family.

The 11 of us.

One wife.

Two kids.

One daughter in law.

Five grandkids.

One grandson in law.

And one great granddaughter.

The 11 of us.

He taught us the meaning of family.

And he lived by example.

We always came first, no matter what. 

We supported each other through the good times and the bad times.

And we were always there.

My mom is the strongest right now.

Pushing forward

Keeping everyone together.

She's been at the hospital every day since he was admitted 3 weeks ago.

Making him laugh.

Talking with him.

Keeping my Grandma healthy and well.

He has asked for her every day.

My Poppy is so proud of her.

My uncle is the fighter right now.

He is putting up the fight.

Fighting for us all.

Believing for us all.

Hoping for a miracle.

He's the one always telling Poppy to not give up.

To keep fighting.

That he has to get up and walk out of the hospital.

My grandma is the one remembering right now

And fighting to process and keep up.

She's reliving the last 52 years of her life.

Remembering when they got together.

Remembering their wedding day.

Reliving their beautiful life.

She is fighting to figure out what happened

And why she didn't read the signs that were all there for us to see.

And every time she starts to process and find peace

Something drastic happens.

I can't imagine being in her shoes.

They are the love of each other's life.

And watching her each day

is Love.

She loves him.

And me

The psuedo daughter.

The third child they raised.

I'm spinning and grieving.

Feeling like my life is flashing before my eyes.

Remembering things I haven't remembered in years.

The man who stepped in and practically raised me.

I'm struggling.

I can't grab grasp of this reality.

26 days ago we were at dinner for Miss B's birthday and now this?

We've been told this nightmare is going to end soon.

And from the looks of it, we have days, if not hours. 

And at the end of it,

Poppy will be among the best.

Reunited with this mother and father.

Always there

Always watching over us.

One of the last things he told us on Sunday,

when my Mom, Grandma and I were at his bedside

was that we were beautiful.

All of us were so beautiful.

His son was beautiful.

His entire family was beautiful.

And later as he had a breathing episode

and we almost lost him

he looked across the room at my grandma

and mouthed I love you.

About a month ago, a friend of mine lost a loved one and posted this quote after the service

I remember thinking,

for whatever reason,

that quote is beautiful and fits Poppy 

as we already knew he had a disease that was infiltrating his body.

“God saw you getting tired, 

and a cure was not to be. 

So He put His arms around you 

and whispered “Come with Me.” 

With tearful eyes we watched 

you slowly fade away. 

Although we love you dearly, 

we would not make you stay. 

A golden heart stopped beating, 

your hard-working hands put to rest, 

God broke our hearts to prove to us. 

He only takes the best.”

We love you Poppy.

And we always will.

Faith, Hope & Love.

This past weekend, I visited my Poppy. He sat in a chair, struggling to breathe. He didn't look like he had a couple days earlier. He was taking steps back.

I pushed it out of my mind the best I could. There was nothing I could do but sit and wait. He wouldn't want me to put my life on hold for him. I needed to just think positively and have faith.

Then I got a text from my mom on Sunday. 

"Poppy's being taken back to the CCU. He's not doing well Heather."

She continued to update me the next two days saying that he was put on a bi-pap machine to help regulate and stabilize his breathing and that if didn't work, there was a possibility that we would have to intubate him. Possibility.

Possibility.

That possibility turned into reality.

My little family of three, my mom and grandma all shared dinner on Monday night. We sat and talked about Poppy. Laughed and shared stories.

"He's gonna be ok."

"He has to be ok"

"This is going to work"

Were some of the conversations.

We had hope.

And then the call came.

10P

The hospital showed up on the caller ID.

My mom answered and the first words of her mouth were

"Do we need come in?"

No only did they have to rush up to the hospital but they had to decide at that moment, what our extraordinary measures were going to be for him should something happen.

"We will be there in 20 mins" my mom insisted.

"No, we need to know now. What do you want us to do if something happens?" the dr pushed.

"You do whatever you need to do."

Life changed instantly.

 My mom called my uncle and told him to come up.

My mom told my grandma and she broke down.

We were going to need to make some big decisions.

Were we going to put him on a ventilator, with a slim chance of surviving and have him fight? Or keep him on the bi-pap, keep him comfortable and let him die?

They got to the hospital and saw him struggling.

He was laboring to stay alive and beginning to hallucinate.

He didn't really understand the entirety of everything but

he told my Grandma he wasn't scared.

He told his kids he loved them and that they would always be his kids.
He said when this was all over and done with he wanted to go home and take a family vacation to his home in Hawaii and eat saimin.

They said their goodbyes without really saying goodbyes.

We weren't ready to lose him.

He was intubated late Monday night/early Tuesday morning.

And my mom's last words to me that night were

"It's sad but he looks peaceful"

I spent the night in a fog.

Crying desperately.

Praying.

Sleepless.

I had to get up there and see him.

I had to.

I woke up Tuesday morning and made it up there by the early afternoon.
I broke down as I walked the hallway to his room. My mom said it would be ok.
Nothing about this was ok.
And then I saw him.

There are no words to describe seeing someone, who is a father figure to you,
lying there intubated and unable to move.
my mom told me to grab his hand and I did.
His grip was strong and he squeezed my hand tight three times.
He was telling me he loved me.
He opened up his eyes and squinted them, letting me know he was smiling.
He shook his head and said he was ok.
And he never let go of my hand.

We've had a lot of good news in the past 48 hours. He looks 100% better than he did Saturday when I saw him and he went from 100% oxygen to 75% on his ventilator, which we like to believe is great. He is responsive and as bossy as ever. And tonight he wrote "I feel like I'm getting better."
We believe these are amazing strides because we have hope. We honestly cannot believe any other way.

But with good comes bad and we've heard numerous times that he will never come home, nor will he ever come off the ventilator. His underlying lung disease has gotten much worse and is not only killing him, but really drowning him. And a bunch of other things that aren't worth mentioning in this little blog. Those words sting because we see progress he has made since Monday and honestly, when you are going through a time like this, all you can have is hope.

So tonight my uncle sat with him and told him how he had to get better because we were planning a big family vacation to his childhood home of Maui later this year. We would load him up on a cruise ship and meet him over there. He would enjoy his time with his family and my uncle would take him on the golf course, where Poppy could sit on the cart and watch and maybe get up and putt a couple times. We would be together. We would get through this. Poppy shook his head and took deep breaths, as he envisioned this hope. We can only have hope.

We can only have hope.


--


I'm not a very religious person but I thought of the below verse as I finished up this blog post. And while it's a common wedding verse and often used to depict romantic love, as I reread it tonight I realized, this is love. True love. And this is my poppy and our family at this time. We are loving the most we can, holding hope and keeping faith best we can. And that's all we can offer. Love. Miracles exist. Here's hoping for our miracle.



 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
 Love never fails.
 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13: 4-7, 13

So close, but so far away

I was the first grandchild. Born to 18-year-old and 20-year-old newlyweds on January 16, 1984. I don't remember all the details but I do remember being loved. My Grandma and Poppy were always there. I became like another daughter to them. A third child. I remember nights spent over at their house right in the middle of their bed, squished in between the two of them. I remember dancing around the house, performing Madonna songs and putting on piano recitals for everyone. I remember taking bath time with my grandma, drying off and covering myself in baby powder and running to my Poppy telling him to smell how clean I was. I remember them taking me apple picking, peach picking, cherry picking. I remember my Poppy always teasing me about my food as I guarded it with my life. I remember him taking me the golf course around 3 or 4 years old and him telling me to be quiet. And never wanting to disappoint, I kept my mouth shut as I pooped my pants and he tried to track down the smell that followed us all the way home. I remember my Grandma and Poppy were two of my biggest fans. They were there on the sideline of every basketball game I ever had. They supported me through some my darkest times and were there through some of my happiest. My poppy would cut me fruit and pack me snack bags for high school breaks and later work breaks. He'd always include a smiley face or a little note telling me to have a great day. And when I moved to Hawaii my grandma and him bought a condo to come visit frequently and be there if I needed. He's always been a great storyteller and we'd always find ourselves gravitating towards my grandma and him at family dinners and get togethers because they MAKE our family. They are the center of the family.

Funny how I remember all these sweet beautiful memories and yet clearly remember the one time when I was around 20 years old, dating someone I thought I wanted to be "the one", and my priorities were clearly turned around. My Poppy came to pick me up and when I got in the car, he started to ask me questions. Being a 20-year-old know-it-all, my defenses shot up and within minutes we ended up in a shouting match saying that this was the end of the road for us. We were done.

A few days blew by and I finally got my ass out of my head and apologized but that day is still stuck in my mind.

We moved past that day and moved on. It wasn't the end of the road for us. He continued to be there and support me. He was there when I got married. He was there when I had my daughter. He opened up his house to my husband and I last year when we had no where to go. He was always there.

And right now, he's there but not really RIGHT there.

My grandpa has spent more days of this new year in the hospital sick with double pneumonia than he has home and well. It's been a heartbreaking and an especially scary time for my family. We're not ready to lose him but we've gotten close to just that.

Because I started this year off sick, I finally got to the hospital to visit the other day. It is literally heartbreaking to walk into a hospital room and see someone who was one of the most influential people in your life, lying in a hospital bed so sick and fragile looking. His hair was so long because he's been there a week and a half, he lost ten lbs during his stay, he's on an oxygen mask with humidifier treatments every few hours and can't talk without losing control of his breath.

I wanted in and immediately had to bite my lip to hold back the tears. And yet he was still there. The first thing out of his mouth was asking how I was, how the baby was and commenting how big she looked and asking how M's new job was going and how he liked it. Using whatever strength he had to smile and laugh.

He's going to make it through this. He HAS to make it through this. But I'm scared. Any setback could be fatal. We could lose him.

We visited for awhile, hearing lots of discouragement but also a lot of hope in his voice. An avid golfer, my grandma asked the case manager if he would ever be able to golf again and he interrupted to say, "That's the last of my concerns. I just want to go home and spend time with my family."

And in a simple statement he solidified everything he's every taught me through the years. That family is most important. That he and my grandma would always be there for us. Actions speak louder than words. That he loves me no matter what. That we are a family and will get through it together. No matter what.

So we're sitting here and waiting. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting anxiously with open arms. Miss B asks for her Papa every day. I send good thoughts and positive energy every day. I pray for relief and return of his health. I just want him home.

And so the tables have turned. I wait. Here. Always here. Just like he always was for me.

Put her in bed, lock the door and let her CIO

Motherhood has changed me.

I don't really remember how I thought I would raise my kids pre-motherhood. I never thought about crying it out, breastfeeding vs bottle feeding, c-sections, natural births, circumcisions, co sleeping, vaccines, etc. All I knew was that my kid would be different. Doesn't ever woman think that before baby comes?

I thought I'd be and do a lot of things. But motherhood changed that.

Cosleeping and not letting her cry it out was a choice I made for and by ME to be the best mom I could be for HER. No one else. It began early and honestly, were some my favorite times with her as a newborn. I remember her first smile at me as we snuggled in the bed at 3A. I remember always waking up in a half daze, nursing her and us both falling back into a deep coma. I remember her always, without fail, finding the nook in my arm and snuggling up to my chest.

And two years later, she still cosleeps with us. I am fine with this. M is ok with this and even though we get our share of kicks throughout the night, this works for US.

But unfortunately, my pediatrician doesn't agree.

I took Miss B in for her 2 year checkup last week where we were greeted with a long list of questions and followups. Everything seemed ok until the topic of sleeping came up. "How is her sleeping going?" the doctor asked.

"Good," I answered. "She's napping one nap a day about 1.5 hours long and she sleeps anywhere from 10-12 hours a night."

"And how's she doing in her crib?"

"Well, you know we cosleep, so some nights we are able to transfer her to her crib, and other times no."

"Oh."

She mentioned a toddler bed and I nodded.

"Yea, we are thinking about getting a toddler bed and putting it next to our bed for her to get used to before transferring her to her own room since she has told me she doesn't like the dark. Do you think 2 is too early?"

I should have known to trust my instincts and not asked such a question. It didn't really matter what the Dr said because we are going to go based on B's schedule. And if B is ready, then she will do it and if she needs a few more months in the bed with us, then so be it.

The doctor scoffed and said "Well it's a common misconception that kids are afraid of the dark and I can tell you that she's not. She's playing you for a fool to get her way and continue to stay in your bed. And I don't recommend a toddler bed until they are three years old but you obviously make your own rules. My suggestion is to put her in her bed, tell her it's bed time, shut off the lights, lock the door and let her cry it out. I also recommend to parents to switch around the door handle if you need to so she can't open the door. It's a power struggle and you need to teach her to stay in her bed."

I sat there for a moment, stunned. Was my pediatrician really suggesting that my 2 year old was playing me for a fool and to lock her in the dark and leave her there? I ran through a list in my head of all the things I thought B could get into and what could happen. There were no words. Absolutely no words whatsoever. The appointment couldn't end soon enough.

Why does cosleeping need to have an end date to it? Why, because she's now 2 years old, does she suddenly become a manipulative toddler? Is it SO important that she move to her bed NOW? Will she be 14 and still sleeping in our bed? I highly doubt it. And who cares if she is. There have been many times in my 20s that I have napped with my mama. Why does it matter?

Needless to say, I couldn't be happier to be saying good-bye to our pediatrician and finding a new one.

And I couldn't help but smile smugly the other night, when I put B in our bed, shut off the light and B started crying "DART! DART! DART! MAMA DART!"

"Yes honey, it's dark. Is it scary for you?"

"Yah. Dart mama."

"It's ok honey, it's dark but mommy's right here. You can close your eyes and snuggle right here."

"Yah. Dart mama" she said, wiping away her tears, snuggling into my chest, sucking her thumb and falling into a deep sleep.

Playing me for a fool, she may be. But I'm her fool. I will be here for her every moment for the rest of my life. And if giving up my bed for next 18 years will keep her happy. Then so be it. And no one can take that from us. No one.

Moments of of the New Year

This year is off to a crazy busy start. I would share it all but here are some of the top ones.

Scariest Moment: 

When I realized it was 2P and that I should get lunch...and then instantly remembered I had turned the stove on at 11A. And never shut it off. Oh, and I was almost an HOUR away from home. Yea. Tell me I wasn't imagining myself shifting through charred ruins!

Sweetest Moment:  

When Miss B woke up one morning, crawled out of bed and kissed me on my lips and said, "Hi Mama!" as she ran out to the living room to look for her daddy and play with her toys.

Laziest Moment: 

When I accidentally fell back asleep and for another 20-30 minutes while my daughter played peacefully in the living room. Oops.

Irritating Moment: 

When our pediatrician told me to put my daughter to bed, lock the door and let her cry and scream it out. Post to come.

 Intimidating moment: 

It's a long story that I'll post about soon but I registered at the local community college to finish up my AA and hopefully transfer to finish up my BA. It's scary being 27 years old and not knowing what you want to do.

Heart-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach moment:

Not even a week into the new year and getting a call that my beloved grandfather, who I (and the rest of the grandkids) lovingly call Poppy, had a racing heart and was having difficulty breathing. My mom and gramma raced him to the hospital where, as much as we may hate to admit it, we almost lost him. It's scary when someone is ok one day but so fragile the next. A week later, he's still in the hospital trying to stabilize his breathing but we're lucky he's still alive and healing. Life can be taken any day...any instant...Don't take it for granted.

Proudest Moment:

After a long few weeks of getting everything in order, completing urine tests and background checks, M finally started his new job. I can't describe how proud I was when I woke up that morning to give him the final lookover and send him off to his first day. I was so happy I could have cried.

Life's been busy...But when is it not?

Mama's on Facebook!

With the New Year came a new blog look and after that I decided it was time for Mama to make a Facebook page.

So if you aren't one of my AMAZING friends who took the liberty of visiting and "liking" the Mama Heada Fan Page before I even announced the page, please take a moment to find and visit me on Facebook. Would love to have you join along!

I also have a newly designed blog button, so if you are feel like sharing the love, grab my blog button and add it to your site. And if you do, leave me a comment and I'll be sure to add yours too.

And if you haven't already followed along, please do so via Google Friend Connect or Networked Blogs located in the right column. The more the merrier!

Chicken Noodle Soup

I started this New Year off pretty awesome. M & I popped open a bottle of bubbly, watched a bunch of people make out and dance like fools on Dick Clark's Rockin New Years Eve bash and rang in the New Year with a big smoochie and a shower. Smooch because that's what you're supposed to do and Shower because it's tradition in M's family to start your year of nice, fresh and oh, so clean. It was a great start to the year.

Until the next morning, when I awoke at almost noon with stuffed sinuses and the worst body aches on this side of the Mississippi. Seriously? And it's only gotten worse. I can't sleep because the body aches are just...well, aching. I can't breathe because my nose feels like there is cotton balls stuffed up the wazoo up there.  And I feel like crap. Thankfully M has had the past few days off and hasn't judged me as I imprint my body into our couch. I think someone's vying for the stay-at-home job! ;)

But seriously, he's the greatest. He's let me veg. Taken care of a lot of the small stuff around the house and tonight, even cooked me dinner. Ok, ok. I gave him the recipe I found this morning when flipping through old GH magazine, pretty much did 75+% of it and let him serve it up and call it his own. That's how we work around here.

And what's better to eat when you are sick then Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup? Seriously...that's like a cure-all right there.

Here's the recipe from the September 2007 Good Housekeeping magazine. Don't judge the date. My gramma is a GH Hoarder. Just sayin.

Chicken Noodle Soup

Total Time: 20 mins

Makes: 5 main dish servings

Ingredients:

32 oz chicken broth

4 cups water

1 tbsp olive oil

1 small onion, chopped

2 stalks celery, thinly sliced

2 medium carrots, thinly sliced

pepper

1 lb. skinless, boneless chicken breast halves

3 cups medium egg noodles, uncooked

1 cup frozed peas, thawed

Directions:

In covered, 3-qt saucepan, heat broth and water over high heat.

Meanwhile, in 5- to 6- quart saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. Add onion and cook 5 minutes or until lightly browned, stirring occasionally. Add celery, carrots, hot broth mixture and 1/4 tsp ground black pepper; cover saucepot and heat to boiling over high heat. 

While vegetables are cooking, cut chicken into 3/4-in pieces.

Uncover saucepot and stir in noodles; cover and cook 3 minutes. Stir in peas and chicken; cover and heat to boiling, 3-5 minutes. Makes about 10.5 cups.

Mama Heada Thoughts:

First off, have you ever heard of peas in Chicken Noodle Soup? Maybe I've been eating too much Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup because it sounded odd to me. So we eliminated the peas. And added garlic. Because...well, we are garlic fiends. 

Second, this was so freaking easy I wanted to jump up and down. It took less than 10 minutes to throw together, I had everything in my cupboard/fridge and I thought it was yummy. But then again, my nose is stuffed...so you know. M said it was ok but that he felt it needed salt. And Miss B, our 2-year-old judge of it all, ate every little bit. So would I cook it again, definitely, especially since it's so easy.

And according to GH, each serving is about 205 cal, 30 g protein, 33 g carbs, 6 g total fat, 3 g fiber, 85 g chol and 614 mg sodium.

Not too bad!