Horrible Nightmare

Last week I had to go to the doctor for my hip.  While I was there, something horrific happened.

B was badly injured training at a live fire drill.

One minute we were texting each other about my hip, he said that he had to go drill, next thing I know my phone was going crazy as he had fallen trying to force open door as part of their training. When he fell he broke his leg.

Seeing the text that he was hurt but not knowing what was happening was terrifying. Not being able to help was frustrating.

As a mother, my job is to fix things. Make things better.  There is nothing that I can do to help him. Nothing I can do to make it better.  All I could do was go there and be there.

The break was bad enough and in a place that required surgery, I have had a lot of surgery, but waiting for someone to have surgery is something I have less experience with.  Sitting there, watching the screen with his case--- waiting for screen to advance to "surgery complete".

B's job has always scared me- I love and respect what he does, but it scares me.  Because he could so quickly be injured. Nothing is a guarantee.  Every time we talk we end it with "I love you, be safe".  I will not let him off the phone until he replies "I always am".

It has been hard for the kids- he is like superman.  He comes and fixes things and saves the day. His job is actually to save people.  He is not here a lot but when he is he is fantastic with them.  No one gets a better welcome than when daddy gets here.

Truth be told, I am a little jealous about how the kids are so interested in helping him. When I get hurt or have surgery nothing changes, the requests keep coming: "mama what's for dinner??" "where is my shirt?" B gets hurt--- totally different story- they are all over him helping.  Which, honestly is good.  He is dad- and a pretty darn awesome one.

Seeing the message that B was hurt was the most horrifying thing. My stomach dropped a million miles, I started sweating, I was sick to my stomach.  He annoys the crap out of me and irritates me beyond belief, but I love him.

When the doctor told me that he did need surgery, I got light headed--- and its not my leg! A doctor can tell me I need surgery and that is fine, I can deal, but not someone I care about, that makes it scary!

I do have new respect for what B had to endure in the waiting room for me- my surgeries were much longer and I have no idea how he managed.  Being the one unconscious is much much easier.

When he is better, I will have to find something new to say other than "I love you, be safe" because much like the kids-- he clearly doesn't listen.

I am thankful that he will heal.  I am thankful for my sister who saved the day. I am thankful.

Hyperemsis Gravidarum

Oh Duchess (or Princess) I feel for you.  

Hyperemisis ins not just morning sickness it is really hell, absolute and total hell.  It was wanting to die but knowing you wanted your baby.  It was actually considering abortion.  It was going on anti nausea meds meant for cancer patients.  It was painful.  I have had experienced it complete with home IV therapy. 

Whats worse is unless you have been there, you can't understand.

Hyperemesis can cause re-emergence of depression or anxiety.  It is very lonely.  

I remember wanting to hit anyone who brushed me off as having morning sickness- but I couldn't move without being dizzy or puking.  I questioned myself a lot-- was I doing the right thing? Was I just being dramatic?  Was my doctor treating me effectively? I desperately wanted to explain to my husband how hellish it was and being so angry when he minimized it. 

The judgement.  Oh the judgement was hurtful.  It cut deep. 


 The thing that helped the most was finding other women who had been there.  So my advice to anyone who has hyperemisis is to know that you are not alone.  You are not weak-  you are stronger than you know. 
Find a community who will support you and lean on them. 

The Sock Saga

One of the things that annoy me most are the sighs and grumbles and under the breath mutterings that say so much with out saying a single word.

Today, I called my husband out on it, he does the under breath grumbles quite often.  He used to actually say something picky about it. So maybe this is progress, but whatever-- it bothers me a lot.  I am left feeling like I can do nothing right, or good enough, not a good feeling.

Wait--- for this story to makes sense you need context right?

Our house has a hard time keeping track of lids.  Lids to juice, to water, to anything--- it will get lost.

Last night husband was in the cupboard and noticed the Tylenol, and he noticed the lid was missing from the Tylenol (of course).  He grumbled, grunted, sighed heavily, and with an 'ugh' worthy of a Grand Slam Tennis serve, he shut the door.

I went on with the evening feeling less than, like I could do nothing good enough.  Thus the confrontation.

He defended himself saying that he isn't saying anything.  I countered that it was not what he was saying it was the message that was being put across.

Anyway, to the socks.  He takes off his socks next to the bed. and leaves.them.there. This used to really bother me- I told him so-- that in fact there were his socks on the side of the bed at that very moment and I just had to give it up and make the best of it... not grumble or endure it.  That now instead of grumbling about the socks I just pick them up and toss them down the stairs. No harm. No foul. Life goes on.

He had to walk over to the side of the bed to verify that in fact there were socks on the side of the bed- and that they were HIS socks.. Despite walking over to his side of the bed... noting the presence of the socks-- he did not pick them up.  Instead he just went downstairs.