Smith family update

Someone was asking about this blog, and I figured I really should put some sort of something up here, and so I am.

I last posted when Janaia was 5 weeks old, that was a LONG time ago.  Apparently some of you want to what has been happening since then.  And I appreciate that.  Thank you.  :)

The trouble with this blog is that I don't know where to go with it.  I don't know where to go with it...

Do I continue on writing happy family stuff?  Well, I sort of hope that something previous to this date might be of help or encouragement to anyone else who stumbles on this page in a similar situation to ours.  And if my last five posts are saying how happy we are and how wonderful Janaia and Caeden are, etc, etc, then I wonder if someone like that might sort of leave without reading the FULL story...

What I mean is that it can be incredibly painful if, for example, you have just found out your firstborn child has been diagnosed with a fatal hereditary disorder and then you look at someones blog that is all about how they just had a new, healthy baby.  I know.  I remember...

On the other hand, I don't know if I want to continue this blog by continuing to record my grief.  Because I still grieve.  I always will.  Because I will always miss Joel.  I will never forget about him.  But I find myself more and more disinclined to post about it...  I'm really not sure how to explain that.  It's almost like I don't feel it is ... appropriate? somehow?

For now I will say that everything here seems very, very good to me.  With some qualifiers.

1. Janaia has in a strange way put me through an intensive grief.  She is a consolation to me.  But you don't have a consolation unless you need to be consoled.  I continue to grieve my son.  And watching Janaia grow and develop reminds me constantly of my missing child.  I feel incredible joy as she learns to eat.  And with that, intense memories of Joel, trying to teach him to eat, needing a gt, etc.  I don't mind the grief.  It is good to grieve my son, because it is good to remember, and to love him.

2. At times it is hard for me not to worry about 'little' things.  It is silly, and I try not to give em the time of day, because I know it is ridiculous, and yet a part of me resist this.  A part of me can not go back to taking for granted that most kids are healthy and "normal."  So when Janaia is a bit slower than Caeden was at sitting up, silly thoughts enter.  I know she doesn't have PBD, but there are hosts and hosts of other things to go wrong.  So I have to remind myself frequently that healthy babies are still all different and develop at different rates.  (like the time the Dr. questioned if we should watch her weight.  She is tall & thin, just like Caeden was.)

And I'm not going to waste a minute complaining about the lack of sleep.  Because I have been the happiest tired person on the planet.

I have THREE wonderful children.  I get to enjoy two of those kids every single day.  And the third one I carry around with me in thought through memories and the love I still hold for him. 

Janaia is almost 7 months old.  She is a very, very happy little girl.  I'm sure some of you would like to see some pictures from the past 6 months.  :)

God is Gracious

I'm trying to write this in a spare moment.  No, not a spare moment.  No moments are spare around here.  A stolen moment more like.  If I'm writing this, it is because I stole a moment when I should be sleeping, or cleaning, or doing laundry.  But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  I have been meaning to write this blog for a week now, and I don't want to wait a moment longer.

But I'm going to have to keep it much, much shorter than I wanted to.  I had a lot I wanted to say, but man, a baby can sure keep ya busy!! 

So, last Friday we finally got hard core answers on if Janaia also has a PBD.  Two of her blood tests came back NORMAL.  The third didn't come back yet, but it is really not an important test anyway.  The definitive test shows she is PBD FREE.  My precious girl will not suffer and die from a peroxisomal disorder.

I needed to give you all the good news.  Like I already said, I wanted to write a lot more.  But life with a five week old baby is proving a bit crazy, so this will have to suffice for now.  I think you all can read some between the lines anyhow, to see how I feel about this news.  It's pretty wonderful.

Thanks for your caring and your prayers.

More if and when life calms down a bit.  :)

Welcoming Janaia: Part Two

I know the big question on all minds.  You are wondering if Janaia is PBD free or not, and why I haven't mentioned it.  The answer is simply that we still don't know for sure.

When she was born, I felt her skull.  Her fontanels were totally NORMAL.  A huge sigh of relief.  She was interested in nursing right away.  She seemed very "normal and healthy.  I went home felling optimistic.

But Janaia had a tongue-tie like her oldest brother, Caeden.  And soon nursing was not going well.  She kept me up all night, for the whole first week.  We had her tongue-tie released, but things were still not going well with nursing.  She went a week without any weight gain.

I was quickly heading for crazy-town.  Lack of sleep, worry and frustration over nursing and weight gain, and the whole thing just felt so much like a repeat of how it went with Joel...  and I was just flooded with memories and feelings about Joel.  Janaia's features started looking more and more like Joel's.  I didn't feel optimistic.  I felt worried and sad.

Those first two weeks were doozys.  Metabolics didn't even get us in for blood work until she was two weeks old.  Which meant we had two more weeks to wait for a confident answer.  To top it all off, my milk supply was dwindling, and we had to use some formula.  We had to rent a double breast pump and I was back to pumping and bottling milk, like I had to with Joel.  I had to suppliment with formula too, a real disappointment. 

But this is when things started to turn around.  Janaia started to gain some good weight.  By the middle of her third week, she was 8lbs, 14oz (birth weight was 8lbs, 4oz).  I got (slightly) more sleep because Steve could bottle her for the first watch of the night while I got three hours of sleep.

To sum it up:  We still don't have the blood work back.  It's still hard at times, I might be a bit paranoid as I watch for any signs of PBD.  As nothing big has appeared, and as she has gain more weight in a week than Joel did the whole first month, I feel more optimistic again. 

I am still not getting much sleep, but she is a very good natured baby and doesn't cry much.  I think the problem is a bit of GERD, or 'baby reflux.'  It seems like she is spitting up a lot, gagging, etc., during sleep and that wakes her up.  She's fine if I hold her, it's just laying her down that is the trouble.  Yes, in order to survive, I sleep sitting up, holding her securely propped in my arms.  It is totally against the "lay them down flat on their backs in only a sleeper" rule, but sometimes increasing one risk very slightly is better than increasing the huge risk that in an overtired state I accidentally set the house on fire, or end up with a complete breakdown.  It's not ideal, but it works better than the alternative. 

And I'm really hoping that if I get my milk supply up to snuff so we don't need formula, maybe the reflux/spitting up will get better and she'll sleep better lying down in her bassinet.  She now prefers the bottle, and it is a bummer that I STILL don't have enough milk and have to use some formula.  I'm not sure I'll ever get her back on the breast, but for now we are not worrying about that, because things have been way to emotional around here as it is...

  But so far, compared to both Caeden and Joel, she cries a lot less than either of them, and has lots more happy, bright, alert times that Joel did in the first three months.  So far, no sign of the colic that plagued my first three months with Caeden.  So far.  So far she is very easy to settle and loves to cuddle.  We are totally in love with her.  Neither Steve nor I can get enough of looking at her bright eyes and perky little face.  Every day I feel so blessed, and every day I try not to worry or be sad, thinking how awful it would be to get back the blood work if the news was PBD.  She'd still be worth it, every bit of it.  But it is a heck of a price, the pain that would come with the blessing of having her.

I know we have been covered in prayers.  Thank you one and all.  It is a test of faith, for sure.  Here are the words from another Bible verse song that I have been singing:  "Every good and perfect gift comes from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."  Thank you Father, for my good and perfect gift.  And that You do not change.

Now, some pictures!  :)

Welcoming Janaia, Part One

My daughter is two weeks old today, but of course, with a new baby in the house I have not been able to post here!

I should, in fact, be sleeping right now, and I am going to toddle off shortly, but I thought I'd at least take 20 mins and see how far I got in updating you.

Janaia Lee Smith was born on April 5th at 11:18pm.  She weighed 8 pounds and 4oz.  She was 21 inches and 3/4 long.  (you pronounce her name "Jan-A-ah" or "Ja-Nay-ah," either way, tomato, tomato.)  Her name means "God is gracious," for those who like to know.

For those of you remotely interested, here is a brief recap of her birth.  I sprung a small leak in my waters on the morning of the 5th and felt sure that by evening I'd be in labour.  Sure enough, at 7:40 regular contractions started every 5 minutes.  After only 4 of them I phoned the midwife and we drove to the birth centre.  (Since Joel was born in only 3 hours, I wasn't waiting any longer)

We arrived at the birth centre a little after 8.  After the prelims, I got into the huge bathtub full of very warm water.  There I managed the pain of the contractions fairly well for about two hours.  It was great, actually.  I mean, painful, but great.  :)

Then things started to get really intense.  I was only at 7 cm and was very disappointed because the contractions/pain had really intensified.  They offered me nitrous oxide and I took it!  This was at 11:10.  I had a contraction and my water broke.  Then I had two super massively painful, intense contractions and at the end of the second one, Janaia's head was crowning!  Between 11:10 and 11:18 I went from 7cm to full delivery of my beautiful little girl!

She floated out into the water and they handed her to me.  She cried briefly and quieted as I held her and cried myself.  I was so blessed, I had gotten the birth (excepting the pain, of course) that I had really wanted, in the birth centre, just Steve and I and the mid-wives and doula.  It was quiet and peaceful and so private.

The midwives checked us out for the next three hours, her blood sugar was great, she passed all her tests and I did OK too.  They released us, and we headed home for our new life together.

Now I better sign off and try to sleep.  I have had minimal sleep for the past two weeks, but that is for another day.  For now, here are some pictures.  :)

This week at the endocrinologist...

.... everything was FINE!  :)


OK, I'll give you the details, don't beg! 

This week went much, much better on my new 7 mini-meal a day plan.  I actually managed to gain back a pound or two.  I am now totally against fois gras, because I really empathize with those poor ducks, but it was worth it to me to stay off insulin and have such good blood sugar numbers.

Yes, Kara, I am so with you about the eating 7 times a day diet.  I can't WAIT to just eat when I feel hungry and go with anything nutritious I feel like, instead of looking longingly at an APPLE, for goodness sake, and thinking... hmmmm... how can I put protein into this mini meal.  I mean, have you tried eating an apple with a tin of sardines?  Yeah, yeah, I eat it with cheese, but then there is a limit to how much cheese you really should eat in one day, considering how much fat is in cheese. 

Thankfully, since I only am eating more fat until the Baby arrives, I am sort of just not worrying too much, within reason.  I think my arteries can handle it for 6 weeks.  And yes, One Tired Momma, cottage cheese is my friend!  It is low in fat and has a good amount of protein to go with the carbs.  The only thing that really drives me nuts about cottage cheese is that it is HIGH IN SALT!  I have yet to find a brand that is not high in salt...  ah well.  Again, it is only for 6 weeks.    Who knew eating such a "healthy" diabetic diet could be so unhealthy!  ;)

And thank you for the suggestion about steak, Kara, because yes I LOVE steak, but I don't usually eat it very often because: 1. expensive, 2. not as good for you as chicken.  But this week I am for sure having me some steak!  I'm not sure I'll manage a potato with it, but we will see.  I'm finding the best carbs for me are very high fiber.  Which is why I am eating between a cup to a cup and a half of All Bran each day.  Half a cup is 2 servings of carbs, but it is also almost HALF of your daily fiber.

I thought I ate quite a bit of fiber before, but now it's just crazy.  Maybe all that fiber is washing the fat and salt right out of my system!  Anyhooooo.... I actually have not missed prune juice on this new extremely high fiber diet.

Sorry, I think I got way carried away in all the details there, more than you wanted.

Ahem.   When I saw the endocrinologist today, she was happy with my weight gain.  She was happy with my blood sugar readings too.  She felt that eating 7 times a day in small doses of carbs was the key.  I agree, but also know that never sitting down until an hour after I eat is also a part of it.

And because she was happy with things today, I DON'T have to see her until TWO weeks, instead of one!  Yahoooooo!  Not that she isn't nice, but all these appointments are killing me!

When I asked her about having Baby at the birth centre she smiled and said "Well, NO insulin!"  She also said that it was up to my midwife and I, she was OK with letting us figure out the details, but she felt things were going well.

In fact, I asked her today if I would need an ultrasound to check on Baby's weight and she said she didn't have anything to do with that, it was up to my midwife to decide if it was needed.  I was relieved by that.  From what I know, ultrasounds are notoriously bad at accurate estimates of baby weight anyway.  I actually would rather trust my midwife to 'feel' Baby and guesstimate her weight.  (though that isn't totally accurate either, obviously!)

When it comes to Baby's weight, I feel like I can't win.  So I have decided I can't lose either.  Most people I know sort of expect that a diabetes baby will be big.  If my baby is over 8 pounds, they are going to say it was diabetes.  But all my momma's babies were over 8 pounds and she never had diabetes.  Big babies run in the gene pool, people.  In fact, if this baby is any less than Caeden (9 pounds, 11oz) then I'm going to feel that diabetes was not a factor in Baby's weight.

As nice as it may be to have a small baby, like Joel was (to me, OK, I realize that 7 pounds is actually not small, just average, but after 9 pounds and change it seemed tiny) a small baby will be a bit worrying to me.  Because if Baby is less than 8 pounds, I'll have this niggling doubt as to whether Baby is small because she shares the same gene defect as Joel had.  There you have it.  I both want, and don't want a small baby. 

But the only part of that I control for the moment is my blood sugar.  And thank the good Lord, right now that is fine.  So when Baby comes, I'm just going to go with whatever weight she comes in.

I am counting down the days.  I can't wait to see her, and I cry about 5 times a day with both joy of anticipation and dread at the possible realization that might come with it.

Thanks, fellow GD sufferers, for the encouragement and understanding.  It is so nice you understand!  It gets a bit lonely out here in GD land.

If you can stand it, MORE about diabetes!

Here is my new plan for keeping my blood sugars normal and still not losing, or even gaining, some weight:

I eat 1-2 carbs EVERY TWO HOURS, along with a protein, and then I squeeze in some veggies here and there too.

I don't know which I am looking forward to more, being able to eat some of the foods I have been unable to eat right now (like cow's milk, cause right now I'm having almond milk),  or being able NOT to eat what and when I DON'T want to.  The jury is out on that one.  The jury is not out on almond milk though.  It definitely sounds a lot more tasty than it is.  At least, the kind I drink, which has 0% sugar in it.

Anyway, it has only been three & a half days since I saw the endocrinologist, and I have been able to gain back maybe a bit over a pound on this new, strict regime.  And my blood sugars are looking really good, as well.  So I am very happy about that.  If I gain back all three-four of the pounds I lost, I might start to relax the 2 hour eating schedule just a bit.  That would be nice.

Because my strict eating schedule means eating 7 times a day (I might go as long as 2 & 1/2 hours between a couple of the mini-meals).  And about this time in pregnancy, I feel FULL.  Really, really FULL.   And if you could just grab a couple crackers (or better yet, a donut) for a snack, then you might be hungry an hour or so later.  But if you HAVE to eat lots of fiber and some protein with that carb, then let me tell you, it stays with you a LOT longer. 

Yeah, and no donuts for incentive either.  Not even too much fruit.  Which is something I really crave, but if I eat a piece of fruit, then YOU GUESSED IT, I gotta eat some good amount of protein with it.  And I'm supposed to limit my fruit to 3 servings a day, but I might cheat a bit because my blood sugars are OK, and because if you are not extremely hungry and you crave fruit, well, it works.   But only 15 grapes (seriously) and NOT 20!  Because one day I made that mistake, though the diabetic chart said 15, I thought, "really??" and ate more like 20 and then it was bad... so I can never do that again.

This is likely all fairly boring for you all.  Minuscule details of my eating/managing my diabetes.  Just skim it, I'll never know!  It's just my life right now.  Steve comes home and asks me how my day was and what happened.  I just give him a look...  I ate, I cleaned, I took a brief rest, I ate, I cleaned, I briefly played a game with Caeden, I ate, I walked, I had a short break on the computer, I ate... you get the idea, repeat SEVEN times over.  It's a bit boring at times, I might add.  Writing this blog is the most fun I've had all day...  :)

Here is one thing I am grateful for.  These cd's I bought that are parts of the Bible made into songs.  Yes, really, I know that sounds like "super spiritual" or something.  It's not.  It's just really comforting and encouraging, because we (Caeden & I) listen to them lots in a day and then while I am cleaning the songs are in my head.  In fact, all night long, every time I wake up to go to the bathroom, there is one of the songs playing in my head.

And so while it would be very easy to be even more completely obsessed with diabetes, and what I eat, and the health of this baby, and what happens when Baby comes, it is a nice mental relief.  (because obsessed really seems the right word to describe this level of mental & emotional involvement)  Instead, my background mental noise is "We are more than conquerors through Him that loved us." and "Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things..."

I'm grateful for this grace of God.

The date of Joel's death approaches closer.  I worry that it will get 'missed' in all the other stuff going on.  I don't think that would be, ultimately, very good for me.  So I am hoping that I'll be able to prepare for that a bit before it happens.  Whew, this is sure an emotionally dense time for me.

Thanks, friends and family, for caring enough to keep up with all this.  I truly, truly appreciate it.  I know that at times it is not the most fascinating reading.  It's nice to have a place to put it down, though.  And a continual surprise to me that some of you still bother to read it!!  Either you are very, very bored people, or you are incredibly loyal.  I'll go with the loyalty!  :)

Week 34

Well, time for an update.  I'm at 34 weeks.  That means I'm getting there.  But I still have to hang on for at least three weeks before I get hopeful for Baby to arrive, because it might not be good for her to get here before she hits 37 weeks...

I saw the endocrinologist today.  That went better than I had expected.  She told me very strictly I was NOT to lose any more weight.  OK.  I promised to do my very best.  It is hard though.  I'm exercising (which for me just really means: walking Caeden to school, walking various thing to a different and better place in the house, vacuuming, carrying laundry up and down stairs and basically doing any other thing that keeps me ON my feet and NOT sitting down) lots for a woman 8 months pregnant.  All that exercise and I'm not allowed to boost my calorie intake with any 'goodies.'

So, I'm going to try my best to put as many HEALTHY carbs in as many places/times as I can.  This is not easy.  And it is not fun.  It's good that I like challenges, but at times this one seems like it is going to do me in.

Anyway, the endo told me no more losing weight!  But she was happy with my blood sugars.  Happy enough.  And she was very kind to me.  She gave me a little trick I can do.  I did have two reading this week that were .1 or .2 over, but my 2 hour readings were still perfect so she said I couldn't tell anyone (so keep this under your hat) but I could just mostly do 2 hour readings.  She said the 2 hour reading was the most important reading to keep normal.

That made me feel a bit more relaxed about it all.  I will still have to be careful about what I eat, because I know from experience that if my blood sugar goes too high, not even in 2 hours will it be normal.  But it does mean that I don't have to be quite as stressed, as long as I am eating well, my 2 hours should be OK, and I'll never know if the one hour readings were a touch over if I don't take em!

I was very happy that so far, no insulin was needed.  Why is this important?  Well, aside from the fact that I'll have to watch things even more closely on insulin, and aside from the fact that I'm not crazy about doing insulin while preggers (yes, yes, I know tons of women do take insulin and they are fine during pregnancy), the fact remains that if I am on insulin, I can NOT deliver Baby at the Birth Centre.

And I really, really want to be able to do that.  If it is possible.  I LOVE it there.  It is amazing.  And, it is NOT a hospital.  I know some people would find that the opposite of comforting.  Not so much me.  :)

When Joel died, he died at home.  It was a good, good decision.  I'm glad he ended his life here with us at home, and not at the hospital.  Did I mention that I do not love the hospital?  I appreciate the hospital.  It is a necessary evil and I am grateful for what it can do.

But there are two times I don't want my child there.  When they enter the world, and when they leave it.  Oh, if it must be, it must be.  I'm not totally insane.  But if Baby turns out to have PBD, there will be LOTS of hospital in between birth and death.  I just want the beginning to NOT be there if it can be helped.

And I am selfish.  I want those few precious hours to ourselves.  The Birth Centre is just so... peaceful.  Relaxed.  Quiet.  Private.  The lights turn low.  Did I mention the huge bath I can labour and even give birth in?  No bustle of nurses in and out.  It's just so... private.  Yes the midwives are there, but I know them.  And after Baby is born, we can all cuddle up on the bed and be together for a few hours before we have to think about going to the hospital for a blood test.

The other thing on my mind is the niggling feeling that Baby might show up earlier than 37 weeks.  And then the Birth Centre is right out anyway.  Why do I think she might come early?  I don't know, and I hope I am wrong (but so wrong that she doesn't appear until 41 weeks) but I just have this niggle.  Last night, all night, I had some uncomfortable Braxton Hicks.  I know I got them with the other two as well... but I thought maybe they didn't appear until close to delivery time.  But I could be wrong.  I hope so.  If Baby comes too soon, not only will she be born in hospital but then we'd have to stay there for a while.  That would not be so fun.

Mostly, though I just want to have her already.  I look at her picture on my fridge everyday and I can't wait to hold her and see her face.

Which brings me to the last thing I want to say today.  Yes, I really AM joyful about Baby.  No, nothing has "stolen my joy" about her.  Joel's deathaversy is March 23rd, and there it is.  I mourn Joel.  The future is uncertain.  There are tears.  Tears do not need to be cured or prayed away, because tears are not bad.  They do NOT indicate that I have no joy about Baby.  They indicate that I lost a precious son two years ago on the 23rd, and that the future of this girl is unsure and that I have feelings about those two things.

But this Baby is a blessing and I do not forget it.  I am enjoying her everyday.  I spend a good portion of my time, hand to belly, just playing "What is that part?"  Just touching her through my own skin.

And, I offer as proof, the following pictures of the ridiculous amount I have spent buying baby clothes, just anticipating her arrival.  Oh, and some of the items are proof of the ridiculous amount other people have spent too.  I have enjoyed their folly as much as my own!  So I had to include those items too.

Do you think I have enough PINK sleepers??  Oh yeah, this is a baby GIRL we are having!  And we are very, very excited.  Amidst all the tears, mourning, diabetes, and uncertainty, we are thrilled to our bones.

Thank you, to the good God who has blessed us in so many ways.  And who never has criticised my tears, but who has brought me peace in the middle of the storm.

Low Points

Saturday was a new low for me.  Everything seemed to really hit me at once, though of course, it really had all been building up over the last few weeks, or more.

I feel better now, but without getting into too many details here (because some are just P&C), there seems to be a lot to deal with right now.

One of the things I will talk about is the diabetes.  I find that part of this pregnancy to be very, very frustrating.  Because this whole blood glucose thing has gotten very precise and finicky for me.  So many variables, so many little things that throw it off.  And then I'm worrying that I'm going to have to many high readings, and the doctor will tell me I have to go on medication.

For example, I think I figured out that there is a problem with Sunday and what it is.  Because yesterday at lunch I was really, really hungry.  I ate 2-4 inch whole wheat blueberry pancakes, and a cup of cut up fruit on top (NO BUTTER OR SUGAR/SYRUP) and then I had, um... well, I was really hungry so I ate 4 of those little breakfast sausages.  I didn't even have a glass of milk with it.  Which means I should have been eating between 3-4 carbs, which should be OK.

And then after I ate, I went outside and had a nice brisk walk outside for 20 minutes.  I figured I would be fine, but NOOOOOO!  My blood sugar was high. 

So, naturally, I went to the couch and cried on Steve's chest for half an hour, and then I went back and retested.  Guess what I discovered?  Yup, you guessed it.  Lying down and crying does not improve your blood sugar.  So now it was EVEN HIGHER.  So yeah, THAT NO WORK as a solution you might say.

Now I am thinking that it might be that Sundays have been a big problem the past two weeks because I go so long between breakfast and lunch.  Normally I eat at about 8:30 and then again at 11am-ish and then again at between 1-1:30.  On Sunday I skip the 11am meal due to church and I wonder if that is messing me up.  I hope it is, because then I can fix it without needing meds. 

A very good and sweet friend gave me a gift on Sunday.  I'm not entirely sure, but I think there was a subliminal motivational message in the gift.  So I have set it in the bassinet in the living room, and I can easily go look at it before or after my blood test, in case I need too.  I'm going to put up a picture for you.

So, pretty cute, eh?  Though I do miss being able to join in for cookies, or whatever, what I miss most is being able to just eat fruit, as much and as often as I want to.  Because in this pregnancy, I have REALLY craved fruit, but now I am only supposed to have 3 servings a day.  Yes, really, I would eat more than that if I could.  Did you hear me say I CRAVE it???

One of the things that is really hard about this diabetes thing is that it FEELS so much like we've already entered into the world of doctors and monitoring and pokes and medicine.  I know that logically, the diabetes and the PBD are two totally separate and distinct things.  But it feels like I have been swept up into that "world" a full 8 weeks before I ever imagined it could happen.

The diabetes is a small thing, but weekly doctor appointments, finger pokes, constant daily monitoring concern, all that stuff, has really brought to my mind some of the more difficult memories of Joel.  It all reminds me of some of the more painful things.

So on Saturday morning, I woke up from this really vivid, very realistic dream that I gave birth to our daughter and looked at her and saw the marks of PBD on her lovely little face/skull.  And I spent the rest of the day facing that moment, and those feelings.  I don't think that was a bad thing, necessarily, but it was a hard thing.  And I'm pretty sure it was all the diabetes stuff that really brought it on/out.

I'm hoping that was THE low point for this pregnancy, and that the rest of it is a bit better.

And Kara, if you are reading this, I'm going to post up a note to you in the comments.  It's nice to have another person to discuss gestational diabetes with, that is for sure!  So, keep an eye out for it.  :)

Oh, and last of all, I have this song I have been listening to, and thinking about.  It is the words of Romans 5:1-5 put to music and it is really nice.  I am using the song to memorize the verses.  I still have a ways to go.  The part of the song that really hits me is the part that says "... we rejoice in hope of the glory of God, and more than that, we rejoice in our sufferings.  Knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope and hope does not put us to shame because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit..."

It is a good, good thing for me to remember and hold onto these days. 

Follow up.

I had my follow up appointment with the endocrinologist today.  How did that go?

OK, I guess, if you like follow up appointments.  I realized something today.  I realized that I don't really like doctors or appointments too much.  No matter how nice the doctor is, or if the appointment is very short.  Yeah.  I just don't really like them.  So maybe I am a bit hard to please that way.  I don't know.  My view of the whole medical system is of course, skewed by my experiences with Joel...

Anyhow, I realized I don't like doctor's appointments and I also realized that I am a bit of a rebel.  Yeah, that surprises me too.  Well, not a "cool" kind of rebel, like someone who is the first to dye their hair blue.  I really just mean I don't like people telling me what to do.  It's sort of a problem, actually.

It makes me very much like my son.  His biggest complaint about school is that his teacher is always making him do stuff.  And how, when she gives a "craft," he always has to do it the way SHE says.  I believe we adults would call that "following instructions."  My son doesn't like that.  He doesn't like someone telling him what to do.

The apple and the tree, you might say.  Because that is me too.  Anytime someone tells me what to do (without me asking them), it bugs me.  This little flag pops up, the mail is in!  Yeah, that is probably not a good thing.  So I struggle with maintaining a good attitude when someone comes along with advice and suggestions that are unsolicited.

OK, back to the doctor, and how it went.  I think she was happy enough with my sugars and that I had gotten the breakfast problem under control.  The good news is that I don't have to come back next week, the bad news is that I have to go back two weeks from now. 

Which means: two appointments last week, one this week, one next week (midwife), one the week after... you get the idea.  I'm so totally appointmented OUT!  And yes, in part that is a residual effect of life with Joel, but also I'll bet there are others who feel the same way about appointments very quickly.  I know, I know, I better suck this up, because if Baby is sick, there might be lots and lots of appointments.  Which is why I started trimming them down and saying no to some of those which where most obviously useless...

I guess she wants to see me in two weeks because as Baby and placenta grow, it places more demands on my insulin levels.  Still, I have the number to call if they go up and I can't control it.  I sure wish they'd just send me off on my way and then I can call them if I need them.  But no.  I must go in.

See, I understand those people who just refuse to go to doctors at all.  They have understood an important thing.  Once you go ONE time, they might FIND SOMETHING.  And if they do FIND SOMETHING, you will never, ever be free again.  You will have to keep returning and listening to them, time after time.   Ha ha ha.  (evil imaginary doctor laugh)

Anyhow, except for the part where I have to return in two weeks, and the part where she gave me suggestions for getting exercise (that was kinda like the part where the teacher tells you how to make the craft).  I know, I know, I should LOVE suggestions, but since I've been doing great at getting the exercise to keep down my sugars, and since I am a reasonably intelligent 42 year old who can figure out things like take a walk, chase my son around the house, or borrow a treadmill, yeah, let's face it.  I don't like being told what to do.  Unless I need to put together a piece of furniture.  Then I need instructions.

Silly of me to be peeved at that, at any rate.  Partly my bad human nature, and maybe partly just because I don't like appointments.  And maybe also partly because my BMI came up once again.  And I sort of hate BMI's and question a bit of their validity as it is.  And I was only between 5-10 pounds over normal for my BMI before I got pregnant, and that was partly because my body played a trick on me.

See, I thought that I was 5 foot 7&1/2 inches.  But somehow, over the last 10 years, I have lost an inch of height, but I didn't know.  So I thought my weight was better than it is, until this Christmas when my sister and I had a "whose the tallest" contest and I lost.  It was a little freaky.  I hope I don't have osteo.  Anyway, my BMI turned out to higher than I thought it was, because I turned out to be an inch shorter than I thought!

According to my endocrinologist, though, even 5 to 10 pounds overweight on your BMI is significant and lots of us out there are but we just don't realize it (HINT: that's YOU honey).

Does this all sound like grumbling?  Oh, I thought it might, because I think it might just actually BE grumbling.  But what woman likes to be told she is overweight, and that even though she lost 20 pounds the year her son died, it still wasn't good enough?  Well, not this woman, I can tell you that.

But, on the bright side.  I do have a sense of humour, I hope you could read that between the lines of my grumble session.  And one of the funny things about this diabetes thing, is that I have been praying, in the past year, that God would help me be a better homemaker.  Realizing that I might have some deficiencies.  And since being pregnant makes me feel sick, slow, huge, tired, etc., and then yet I got sick on top of that, my efforts at keeping a cleaner, nicer house were greatly sabotaged.  Which means I lack the will power to overcome these obstacles.

 So, God answered my prayer.  Now I find a great incentive to clean my house, at least two extra times a day.  I'm adding about an hour more cleaning to my daily schedule, just to keep down my after meals blood sugar.  No, to my Mother-In-Law, my house will still not be as clean as yours is.  I am pregnant, and I also have a six year old.  And I'm really not going to pull my fridge out at this late stage of pregnancy.  But I will suddenly have a much cleaner home, and my fridge is next on the slate for cleaning out, even though not under.

Which is to admit that all this diabetes stuff is not stuff I like or enjoy.  No, no.  But still, there is room here for lots of gratitude and for a change of attitude for the better.  We are working on the attitude.  Maybe if I go eat a chocolate, it will improve.  :)  (I'm so funny.)

Thanks for listening to my rant.  And Kara, thanks for sharing your comments.  So nice to hear that I am not alone in all this!  :)

Blood Sugars and Baby Smith

OK, so maybe keep all my blood sugars in the normal range was a bit harder than I expected.  I really thought, since the diet seemed pretty easy for me to follow, and since 5 times a week I walk for 2 half hour periods a day, that my sugars would be fine.

And most of them were.

But my Waterloo is my after breakfast sugar.  I was warned, the dietitian did tell me that morning sugars are usually the killers.  She was right.  I could not believe how high they could go after I ate my totally OK breakfast of, for example, a slice of whole wheat toast and scrambled eggs.  Or my oatmeal, WITH NO SUGAR, just a tablespoon of peanut butter and a dash of cream with cinnamon.  Seriously, it was the cook it for 15 minutes kinda oatmeal as well.  Then I tried half a banana and two hard boiled eggs.

All of them failures at keeping my blood sugar down.  So, today I finally had success!!  What was the secret?  It appears that I am going to need to vacuum or scrub floors, or take things up and down the stairs for about 15 minutes right after breakfast.  I don't normally get that sort of thing going until later.  Normally, I eat my breakfast and then I take my decaf coffee or tea and sit for half an hour or so and do my email and etc.  I love my leisurely first morning pace.  OK, I might be spoiled that way, but it is so nice to work up slowly into the day.

Not any more, at least until Baby comes.  I can't see anyway around it, but to do at least 15 minutes of slightly sweating exercise each morning RIGHT after I eat.  But if that is what it takes, then that is what it takes.  At least I still have my prune juice.  It could be worse.

So, now for the fun part.  Today we got to go to Babymoon Ultrasound for a "just for fun" ultrasound of our little munchkin.  And now I can tell you that I am 100 per cent sure she is a girl.  We got a very clear shot of her "little girl bits."  I can't believe it, but I am really going to be using all those pink sleepers!  It blows me away!

And Baby Smith is already quite nice and chubby.  I'm sure my dietitian, my endocrinologist, and my midwife will all be very happy to hear that news!  Ha ha ha...  Anyway, she has really cute chubby cheeks.  Now I'll watch my blood sugar and hope to goodness she can still fit into that "newborn" size little sundress with the cutest little sweater for her "just been born" photos.  Here's hoping.

But though some of the medical persuasion might feel her chubbiness is suspect, I was still happy to see it.  It just feels nice, and if for some reason she is born early, I know that it is good that she is chubby.  Not that I want her to be 9 pounds 11oz like Caeden was.  Here is my hope: 8 pounds & 6oz.  That is exactly the size I'd like her to be.  :)  We'll see how that goes.

Another fantastic tidbit - Baby Smith has hair!!  I don't have a picture of that, but it showed up really nicely on the 2D part of the ultrasound, a nice little hank of hair just above her ears.  That makes all the indigestion worth it, if indeed it was caused by her hair.  Seriously, this pregnancy I have had the most uncomfortable gas pains in my poor little tummy, and I just kept saying "This child better have hair to make it worth it."  So yeah, she's got hair.

The thing is, the chubbiness and the hair make me think of her as being like Caeden.  And Caeden = healthy.  And it's hard now, not to think of Baby as being healthy.  I mean, in my heart I am starting to feel that she will be healthy.  I guess that is OK.  It's not going to make it any better, really, if I am expecting her to be healthy or not.  The truth will out, and then we will deal with reality.  So I am trying to just be OK with thinking she is healthy and trusting God will help me if I find out differently.

Want to know the funny thing?  After we got home, I lay down for a nap and had a real cry about it.  About feeling Baby was healthy.  Because it felt oddly disloyal to Joel.  And because as happy as I will be if Baby is healthy, it also felt sad because it felt like I was really leaving Joel behind.  I know I am not, it just felt like I was "Oh, Baby will be healthy and we will be in our healthy normal lives again, and leave the world of PBD behind us."  And that actually really hurt.  Because I love Joel so much, and it is kinda hard for me to separate Joel from the world of PBD. 

My thoughts and memories of him include g-tubes.  And cuddly a 2 year old who couldn't sit.  And his tiny little feet that never really grew.  They include a little boy who laughed and smiled but never spoke.  Part of it was therapy, and medications.  It just was. 

 And so yeah, feeling happy at the thought of a healthy baby feels a bit like being disloyal, like saying "I didn't want another of YOU."  And like I'm so glad to leave that part of my life behind.  But really, I'm not.  I mean, if I could choose, Joel would be here and Baby would be here and be healthy too.

I don't know, it is hard to explain.  I never wanted Joel to be sick or to suffer, and PBD meant just that.  On the other hand, if you love someone who has brown eyes, but blue have always been your favorite, do you keep thinking "Things would just be so much better if your eyes could only be blue!"  Would you tell your loved one they needed to get blue tinted contacts?

So I didn't want Joel to suffer. But in the things like the blindness, or the inability to eat or sit, the things that didn't bother him, he was happy and content enough, how could I not just accept those parts and even come to love them?  They were just part of him.  And I loved ALL of him, just the way he was.

Am I happy or annoyed about this diabetes thing?  On the one hand, it is a distraction from all this other emotional stuff I got here.  Keeps me busy with blood sugar, instead of PBD and such.  On the other hand, sometimes I just feel like "Hey, I've got enough going on here without dealing with this stuff too."  As you can see.

There are only about 6 more weeks until Baby comes (unless she actually arrives at 40 weeks, which would make it 8).  That is not too long.  It is hard to wait.

Which is why I am happy to present a preview of Baby Smith.  An ultrasound picture of her (though it won't show the hair).  Isn't she cute?  And she belongs with us....

Finger poky things

Soooooo....

I did my glucose tolerance test about two weeks ago (not the one hour test, the TWO hour one) and had another confirmation that just because your pregnancy is complicated by the possibility of a genetic disorder in your baby, you are not automatically exempted from other complications.

Not that I am complaining.  It could be worse.  It could be far, far worse.  But I tested positive for impaired glucose tolerance, though not for "actual" diabetes.  Which I thought was a big relief.

Until I got to the Dr. today and she told me they would still treat me exactly the same as if I had gestational diabetes.  Urg.  I know, I know, it's all a positive thing.  I get to learn how to eat more healthily and have more motivation to shake my massive belly instead of sitting on the couch and eating cinnamon buns.  (WHICH, I'd like to point out to my SISTER, I WAS NOT DOING ANYWAY.)  Well, maybe the sitting part, but not the cinnamon bun part.  At least, not that often.

Anyhoooo.... I found out today what testing positive for impaired glucose tolerance means.  It means 2-3 times a day I will be poking a finger and using a strip to test my blood sugar level, 1-2 hours after a meal.  At first that seemed like a big downer, but the tiny finger-poky thingy really didn't hurt very much.  Peanuts really, so I don't mind.  And I get this really cool blood sugar tester with these cool strips, and I get to take a couple of tests each day.  I think I am going to be able to pass most of my tests easily, and it's always fun to take a test you can pass, right?

DISCLAIMER:  I feel a great need to apologize to anyone reading this who has actual diabetes.  I realize that you are laughing at me and shaking your head, because your life is way more complicated and if you need insulin you know all about real needles, and not tiny finger-poky type things.  No comparison, I realize.  Now, be kind and humor me as I continue to be silly.

The real good news/bad news part was about my diet and maybe my exercise.  First, the bad news.  I get a whole new food chart.  And on THIS food chart, there is a highlighted section for carbohydrates.  A very large section, because from now until at least the end of my pregnancy, the milk group (excluding cottage cheese and hard cheese) is a carbohydrate.  Also, fruit are a carbohydrate.  Also, more than a cup of beans, peas, squash, etc, is a carbo.  My diet is suddenly FULL of carbs!  :)  And the trick is not to eat more than 3-4 servings at a time.

The good news is that I don't think I'll be changing that much of my diet, as when we looked over some of my "typical" meals, they didn't typically exceed the limit.  Whew.  But I will be adding a protein to my breakfast.  And "treats" will have to be relatively rare events.

And, the really scary part, the dietitian really, really wanted to take away.... MY PRUNE JUICE!  My palms got sweaty and my heart was beating faster.  No, seriously, it happened.  Because prune juice makes my life bearable.  Yes, I have tried upping my fiber.  No, it hasn't made a difference.  Which the dietitian admitted was likely because prune juice isn't about fiber, it had a mild natural laxative in it.  It also, sadly, contains a lot of natural sugar...

So, as a compromise, we are going to try me drinking two half glasses a day at strategic times and I am going to do my darnedest to make sure I still can pass that little test after drinking it.  Which means I am about to eat a tablespoon of peanut butter, drink a half cup of prune juice and walk for half an hour to pick up my son from school, in the hopes my blood sugar stays stable. 

So prune juice is my new dessert.  :)  YAAAAAY!  (that might be sarcastic). 

Everyone seems fairly confident that once baby comes, I won't need to keep being treat for diabetes. 

But the doctor did try and get me to say yes to a study for a support group.  I said I'd think about it, which she correctly read as "No way, Jose."  I know she understood my subliminal, because she proceeded to tell me the good things about being in this study, and having support meetings to lose weight after pregnancy, and doing group walks and stuff. 

I didn't get into it with her, we just left it at that.  But if Baby has PBD, then the only support I'm going to be interested in for that first year will be respite, and someone to watch Baby to let me get any sleep at all, and if Baby is tube fed I'm not going to be able to always toddle off to meetings and group walks and stuff.  I'll have enough meetings and appointments.

And if Baby is healthy, I'm going to be OK too.  When Joel hit two years, we finally had "hit our stride" and I was able to eat healthy, exercise more, and I lost 20 pounds which I kept off.  If it takes me a little longer to lose my pregnancy weight because my life is full of other craziness and I'm at a bit higher risk of type 2 diabetes, so be it.  I'll worry about that when it happens, because sufficient to the day is the evil therein.  So there!  :)

Oh, one last good piece of news:  despite everything else, my blood pressure is totally good!  Whooo hooo! 

Midwife

In a sudden turn of events, I am now under the care of a midwife!

I didn't expect it or even think it was possible at this late date.  But what a blessing from the good Lord God!  It's a bit of a story, so I'm going to leave out most of the details, but a friend of mine who got pregnant a little bit ago was talking to her midwife about me.  And how I didn't get a midwife. 

And her midwife told her to tell me she'd take me on!

So I found out on Thursday night that I was now officially under the care of a midwife.   On Friday morning, my OBGYN's office called me to reschedule my appointment on Monday, and I could just tell them that was not necessary!

My first appointment was today.  Sorry, because I am going to gush a bit, I know.  Again, really sorry in advance.  But it was just such a blessing!  I know that Dr. M. is a very good OBGYN, but I know that the appointment today would have been so very different with him.

Instead, I met my midwife, C. and she is really great.  She asked me to tell her the story of my previous two births, and so I could tell her the story of Joel.  I brought some pictures for her to look at.  We discussed a lot of stuff.  I was there just over an hour, and it was so good to be so relaxed and just talk it all over with her.    I think she is going to be a great fit for our family (and especially me).   It is really hard to explain the difference between this appointment and what a doctors appointment would have been like, if you have never had both to compare.

I had my cry and I didn't have to feel bad or awkward about it.  I know that by the time Baby comes, her and I will know each other quite well.  And she'll make sure I know the two other midwives she works with.  They too will know and understand our story.  This is a great comfort to me.  I will be able to relax during labour knowing that when Baby arrives, I don't have to worry about how a doctor is going to deal with things.

We got a tour of the birth centre and man, is it nice!  The hot tubs are HUGE because they do water births if you so wish.  I seriously think that if I sat in one of the tubs, you could fill the water right up to my neck.  Caeden was impressed too, because when we got home I asked him how he liked C and he said he wanted to have a really big hot tub.  Imagine his disappointment when I had to tell him that would be for me, not him.  The beds are double beds, so that Steve could come snuggle up with me and Baby after she arrives.

Steve was totally sold on the birth centre, but we still have not made any firm decisions either way.  We have some discussion ahead of us about it all.  C let Caeden have the Doppler and he got to put it on my tummy to hear the Baby's heartbeat.  He was quietly thrilled.  Baby had a nice strong heartbeat.  She seemed to be lying head down, but then, she still has lots of wiggle room in there.

And, oddly enough, my blood pressure was still OK.  I can't believe it, because the morning actually started of way short of ideal.  Of course, I keep expecting some sort of stress/anxiety to show up regarding the health of this Baby.  Then there are the other, more common, forms of stress about a Baby coming.  I've been sick for just about a week and I'm feeling awful.  I woke up at 4 am, got back to bed at 5am, and then got woken up again at 6am when a car horn/alarm went off.  I'm congested, and I have a cough that makes my sides hurt.  I have almost completely lost my voice too.  I finally fell back asleep at about 7 or 7:30, and then I was woken up at 8:30 to get ready for the appointment.  We were running 5 minutes late, and then when we got to where we thought the appointment was, there was a mistake and we had to go 15 minutes further.  If there was ever a morning for high blood pressure to show up, this was it!

I haven't been in the greatest of moods since getting sick, and I was really ready to cry several times this morning.  But once we got to the appointment, everything changed.  I love midwives.  We were 20 minutes late and you know, I really believed C when she said she didn't mind and I should never worry about running late. 

OK, thanks for letting me gush on and on about it.  I know it is kind of boring details when it isn't happening to you.  Like seeing tons of wallet pictures of the kids.  But I felt so blessed today, it was such a relief and I wanted to share something good, and say how grateful I am to God for taking care of my needs, and even some of my wants.   And I know a lot of people were praying for me about this, so thank you.

How we are in three words: Lights, Undies, Stamps.

Well, it has been awhile since I posted!  Almost a month!

Baby is now at 27 weeks.  I feel her move lots and lots.  She moves differently than I remember either Joel or Caeden moving.  Steve and I love to play with her when she is being active.  Specially me.  You pretty much see me going around all day long with one had on my belly on a spot where I can feel her.

Caeden and I were playing with her this morning, actually.  We had a flashlight and were trying to see if she'd respond when we shone the light into my belly.  She is somewhere around the age when the eyelids open and the eyes are sensitive to light.  Results were inconclusive.  But it was fun.

And while we were doing this, apparently both Caeden and I were thinking along similar lines.  Because I was thinking "If she has a PBD, I better enjoy this light play now, because I don't know how long it will be possible for her to see and respond to visual things.  (Joel seemed to have some amount of vision all his life long, but after about 8 weeks of age, his visual responses were greatly reduced)

While I was in the midst of this sad thought, Caeden suddenly asked me "What will we do if _______ is sick like Joel?"  (Because we call Baby by her name at home, but Steve really wants her name to be a surprise until she is born and so Caeden and I are trying our best not to give it away.  And I asked him, in a quavery voice, I admit, "What do YOU think we will do if ______ is sick like Joel?"

My faithful little boy answered "We will love her."  "Yes," I said, voice still quavery, "we will love her."  I don't know if he was checking in on me and how I am doing, or if he was reconfirming where we stood, or getting reassurance that things were still OK.  But he has not forgotten that his sister may not be healthy, which I had started to suspect might have happened.  I was glad, and sad, to know that he still understood the tenuous nature of our future with this baby.

I go see my obstetrician for the first time on Monday.  A bit nervous about that, but also looking forward to it, because it means I am in my third trimester, finally.  I'm already huge.  I know I promised pictures, and I really mean to give them to you, but I can't seem to get my husband, me, and the camera all on a good day together.

But to illustrate how huge I am, let me share a pregnancy grievance story.  Oh please, just let me.  It's one of a pregnant ladies enjoyments, so humour me, OK?

True story:  We went grocery shopping last week and my belly is now so huge that even my "Motherhood Maternity" brand jeans refuse to stay up properly.  Which means that as I shop, I am engaged every 3-5 minutes in a undignified and let's face it, humiliatingly uncool two hand under the shirt pants hitch maneuver.

OK, that is bad enough, but I am pretty sure every pregnant lady has this problem at some point.  Here is what added insult to injury.  As my pants are constantly slipping about 1/2 an inch, my underwear are slowly working in the direction of the force of gravity.  Only, when I hitch up my pants, those stubborn undies REFUSE to go up too.  So, as the shopping excursion progresses, my undies are slowly coming into position nicely all bunched up in my crotch.  Yes.  Really. 

And there is a washroom at Superstore, but now I am so furiously annoyed  (a nice way to describe my state of mind) that I am refusing to go and fix this, I stubbornly shop faster and faster just to get out of the store and done with the whole blasted thing.  The good thing thing is, all my shirts still come very far down over my mid-section, so the problem remained obvious only to me.  Ah, the humiliations of pregnancy.  I just thought I would over share them with you.

And last thing to share, I promise.  Today Caeden and I are trying an experiment.  I fear my son is succumbing to that common malady, materialism.  Which often comes out in his tendency to hoard.  And which worries me on so many levels, one of them being that I am more than a little suspicious that Steve and I are both contributing to his materialism by subtle things WE say and do... in other words, maybe we are more materialistic than we think.  OK, I am pretty sure about that one.

But I digress.  Today Caeden had a stamp.  He has asked me a few times now if he can start a stamp collection, a past time I am not against, but my son has also got this tendency to fad-ism.  By which I mean that he buys into any new thing that comes along.  So that he wants to collect "Trash Buddies" for awhile, and then Bakugan is the next thing, then Star Wars Angry Birds and now lately it is Skylander.  Just to name a few.

It seems so obvious in a child, that this tendency is unwise and immature, that it shows a fixation with novelty that does not use good judgement.  So obvious, eh?  But then, of course, look around.  We are waiting for the next version of X-Box, the next fancy TV, the latest in music technology, the new fancy phone/computer/god-machine.  Hey, I don't own a cell phone, but I did get a Keurig.  In essence, that is just a very fancy, glorified coffee maker.  It does the same thing that people have done for centuries with beans, boiling water, and a pot.

OK, that was a further digression.  But you see, my son is falling ill to a malady that is rampant in our country.  And maybe Steve and I infected him...

So, my son had this stamp and then he couldn't find it.  And then at lunch time I prayed a simple prayer "Thank you Jesus for this good food and this good day."  And then my son asked me "Why did you say it was a good day when I lost my stamp?"  And I sat there quiet for a few minutes, frankly a bit speechless.  I'm thinking a lot of things, like "Look buddy, if a lost stamp is going to ruin your day, you will NEVER have a happy day in your whole life" and "Hey, I think it is a good day and I lost a son and not a stamp, bucko."

It might be time for some changes in our house.  It sure is time for some discussion.  So we chatted about the stamp.  We discussed if stamps can really make you happy.  Apparently they can.  I questioned how long that happiness really lasts, and whether it really resides within the stamp.  We discussed what a stamp really has the power to do or not to do.  And I could see I wasn't really making much headway.

Thus I proposed a little experiment.  I found a couple more stamps and taped them to a card.  I gave them to Caeden to put away.  And I said, "OK, our experiment is to see what power a stamp really has.  Let's see if these stamps really can make you happy, if they really can keep you from being lonely, or feeling sad or being bored."  And for almost 10 full minutes my son stood and looked at those stamps.  Then he got bored and went off to play with something else.

I wish I could say that when I pointed that out to him, the light dawned.  No.  Not yet.  But I am waiting for the inevitable complaining or whining or crying that happens at least once a day, at which time I can smugly point to the stamps as an obvious cure.  :)

At least, at this age, the lesson is simple and somewhat immediate.  It's a lot harder to convince a 16 year old that happiness does not reside in the newest phone or a new car.  In fact, it is hard sometimes to convince ourselves.  And maybe, sadly, for a lot of us, happiness HAS come to reside in these things.  Thank God for my son.  Thank God for my son, because raising this child points out my own hypocrisy and foibles.

I hope that the next time my coffee maker breaks or we decide not to afford a new gaming system, or going out for dinner, that I remember that it is still a good day.  Because it is.