Alpha Mom

  We moved back to San Diego last August.  So that means I have been “home” for nine months.  Nine months can feel like an eternity and it can also feel like the blink of an eye.  Some things in life are all one or all the other. This has been a big mash up of Matrix-like slow-mo and the 4X setting on the DVR.  Some days I wake up and feel like I could do anything, like this is what my whole life has led up to.  Other days I cannot even find myself.

  When I moved away, I was a month past my 21st birthday, and two weeks into my marriage.  I was a grown up, but just barely.  I had held a job since I was 15, and had been paying my own bills (mostly) for the same period of time. I bought a car on my own credit, without a cosigner, and had my own health insurance.  I was definitely making strides toward independence.  But I was still not who I would be.  I moved 1,500 miles away from anything and everything I knew.  All for the love of a boy.  I have never for a second regretted that decision, even though I cried nearly every night for the first year or so.  Somewhere along the line, I decided who I wanted to be.  And that woman was not exactly the girl that left. It’s not like I did a 180 or anything…just little things, like cupcakes and thank you notes and over-the-top hospitality.

Life went on for me in Seattle, as it did for everything and everyone I left behind in San Diego.  We bought a house, had some babies, moved to a bigger house, and had more babies.  We left our mega church and joined a tiny start up church where I ran the nursery and made a blankie for every baby born on my watch.  I started a bunco group and organized girls’ nights out.  I found wonderful stay at home mom friends at my kids’ school.  I made cupcakes for teachers and went on field trips with my preschooler.  I began to really love people without regard for what they could do for me, and without worrying if I would ever get any love back from them in return.  I was surrounded by people who either exhibited this kind of love or needed this kind of love.

  Without plopping onto the therapy couch, let me just say that I, like many women I know, have issues seeing myself the way the rest of the world sees me.  I have struggled my whole life with trying to make people like me.  I have always felt like the uncool kid.  I still do.  I also am fully aware that I have an unhealthy need for approval.  Only in the last few years have I recognized this.  But, I digress…

  So anyway, fast forward thirteen years and here I am, at “home” again.  Trying to find where I fit.  Trying to make people like me.  Trying to reconcile the girl who left this town with the woman who returned.  I am slowly making new friends and “re-making” old ones.  I am slowly finding and connecting with some moms like me at the kids’ schools.  I am slowly finding a place outside my own four walls where I am needed.  In the meantime, I am often weary and droopy and buried in laundry.  There are days on end where I feel like I cannot get my feet underneath me.  I want to put on my apron and save the world and be adorable and have dinner on the table at six. I often fall short.

  But I have learned something about myself in all of this. I really sort of like the girl that I am.  Even with all my shortcomings and quirks and droopiness!  I think I would like to be friends with me.  And even though I still don’t really see the me that the world sees, every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of her.

So, Giovanni made it exactly two weeks before having another seizure.  The second seizure was slightly less scary than the first.  It happened in the play room, so there was no face-first diving from barstools onto the tile floor, which was nice.  He only did his "dying bug" impersonation for about a minute this time, and he did not turn blue.  He came around a lot quicker, too.  We had been instructed to call 911 if he had another one, so our friendly Santee Fire Dept headed up to our house.  Since it was the same day and time as the last one, it was the same crew, and the totally remembered Giovanni and greeted him by name.  I am sure the fact that we took cookies to them last time helped them remember us this time.  Anyway, he was almost back to himself by the time they got there, but they recommended that we let them take him to Children's Hospital just to be safe. 

While at the hospital, they checked his vitals and then talked with the neurologist on call.  From there they decided to start him on Topamax, an anti-seizure medication, after doing blood work to get his baseline levels. This was on the 20th, and he was scheduled for a visit with the pediatric neurologist on the 23rd, so we would be able to discuss it further at that appointment.  On the morning of the 23rd, the office called to reschedule because of a sick doctor, so we moved it to January 9th.  We also scheduled his EEG for February 19th.

He has been taking his meds and tolerating them pretty well, aside from one small barfing incident.  Yesterday was his neurologist appointment.

 Side note: I don't think that Patrick Dempsey is an accurate representation of neurologists.

In all fairness, our doctor was not bad looking in person.
However, his personality was not much like McDreamy's.

The doctor was very informative and quite thorough.  He basically said that Giovanni would have to continue on his medication for a minimum of two years.  He explained a seizure like this:  Your brain has billions of cells in it, but it only takes one or two to get excited and cause the rest of them to get over-excited.  This causes a seizure.  Eventually, your brain takes over and then the seizure ends.  I likened it to our house.  With four kids, if one gets crazy, they can quickly get out of hand, and it takes me a while to regain control.  He did not think this was funny.  Van was watching my Zune when the doctor came in.  When he needed to get some answers, I took it and put it away.  Later, he busted out his iPhone with a movie playing on it and told Giovanni "it is sort of like mommy's toy, but fancier."  Clearly spoken like a single guy with no kids, making a killer living by looking at brains and not laughing at the jokes of nervous moms!

Based on the neurological exam, Giovanni is fine.  His CT scan was clean, so there are no issues with his brain.  We have the EEG scheduled, and the doctor now wants an MRI, so that will be on the books soon.  All in all, it went very well.  When I consider what could have been wrong, a seizure disorder is really the best possible diagnosis.  The doctor believes that after a couple years on medication, the crazy cells in Giovanni's brain will simmer down now!  (Obviously, those are my words, not his!)

Psalm 71:16-18 (New International Version)

16 I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign LORD;
       I will proclaim your righteousness, yours alone.

17 Since my youth, O God, you have taught me,
       and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.

18 Even when I am old and gray,
       do not forsake me, O God,
       till I declare your power to the next generation,
       your might to all who are to come. 

  Saturday afternoon, Nevie and I went shopping for supplies for her family birthday party planned for the following afternoon.  I stopped by my mom and dad's house for a cup of coffee and to borrow a crock pot.  We talked about everything and nothing and what was going on and where they were going to dinner with their friends.

Thank you, God, for guiding the conversation so that I would know
where my mom and dad would be later that evening. 

When we got home, Kenz was playing in our yard with the boys and Emilie and Lizzy, the two girls from down the street.  “Coincidentally” we have known their family for years and years, in business first, and then through church.

Thank you, God, for giving us neighbors that share a common faith.

  The kids continued to play in and out around the house while I prepped the spaghetti sauce and cupcakes and other treats for the crowd of about twenty that we were expecting the next day.  Makenzie asked me if the girls could stay for dinner.  Normally, I would have said no.  I was in the middle of a bunch of stuff and the house was a wreck and we were probably just going to have cold cereal anyway.  But I said yes and Lamar went to get pizza.

Thank you, God, for softening my heart towards my daughter
so that her friends could stay for dinner.

  We called their mom, Monique, and made sure it was alright with her, and told her we would walk the girls home (about three houses away) sometime after 7:30.  We scarfed down Little Caesar's pizza while we laughed and joked with the six kids surrounding our table.  When we all had our fill, the girls headed back upstairs to play, Lamar put the boys in the tub, and I re-immersed myself in preparations for the party.  About 7:00, our doorbell rang.

Thank you, God, for sending Scott and Monique to our home.

  The "Alpha Mom" in me wanted to call the girls so that there would not be a delay in my preparations.  But instead, I asked them in to have a seat and visit with us.

Thank you, God, for whispering to my heart that building friendships
is more important than assembling perfect cupcakes.

Just a few minutes into our visiting, Kenz, Lizzy and Giovanni decided it was time for some candy.  Kenz got the candy basket out and Van eagerly crawled into the barstool so he could pick his favorite.  I was sitting in a chair that allowed me a clear view of the happenings.  Van started to seemingly vibrate with what I thought was excitement about candy.  (If you know him, you know that this would not be unheard of!)  I quickly realized it was something other than candy euphoria when he stood up and continued to shake.

Thank you, God, for placing me in a spot where I could see my baby and for telling me GO NOW.

I jumped up from the chair and ran to him, trying to get him before he fell off the barstool.  Somehow I knew he was having a seizure.  I was not able to get to him before he took a header from the stool to the tile floor below.  Lamar was right behind me when we realized that not only was he seizing, but he was not breathing.  Lamar carried him to the living room floor while I called 911.  Monique quickly ushered the kids upstairs where she calmed them down and then prayed with them.

Thank you, God, for the woman of faith who was there to give and do for my kids what they needed.

While speaking to the the dispatch operator, I saw Scott bow his head and pray.  This was only the first time I witnessed it.  I would see it many more times throughout the night.

Thank you, God, for the man of God who was there to intercede on behalf of our family.

I called my dad's cell phone, but he did not pick up.  I remembered from our earlier conversation that they were going to be with Chuck and Ann.  Ashe works for Chuck and Ann, so I knew that she would have their number.  When I called her, she thankfully took that off my plate and said she would handle it.  (If only Chuck had not left his cell phone at home that night.)

Thank you, God, for a sister who took control of what she could help with.

Ashe's mom was due to get in from Boston right about the time I called.  But her flight had just been canceled after a four hour delay.  Bad news for Fran was good news for us, because Rhett and Ashe were free to come here and relieve Scott and Monique to go back to their own kids.  We still could not get in touch with mom and dad.

Thank you, God, for using the delayed flight to allow Rhett and Ashe to come to our house.

By this time, the paramedics had finally made it up to our house, with a little traffic direction from Scott.

Thank you, God, that I live in a country where there are such things as EMTs,
fire departments and law enforcement.

Giovanni has begun to breathe on his own, but was still not coherent.  They said they needed to take him via ambulance to Children's Hospital as a precaution.  After duct taping (!) him to the board to hold him still, they loaded him on the gurney and he and Lamar were off to the hospital.  I stayed behind to calm the other kids and get in touch with my mom and dad.

Thank you, God, for giving my a husband who can stay calm and be a source of strength
for me and our kids even in the middle of a chaotic time.

Scott asked me if I knew where they were eating and I said no.  But then I did!  He had the phone dialed and ringing before I could even remember how to spell the name of the restaurant.

Thank you, God, for the recollection of a random fact.

They were not at the Santee one, but Scott knew there was one in El Cajon and we tracked them down there. 

Thank you, God, for Scott's quick thinking while I was in a fog.

Mom and Dad gave a quick explanation of the emergency to their friends, and off they went.  Chuck, Ann, Harry, and Carol prayed for my baby boy that very minute.

Thank you, God, for the godly people, two of whom I've never met, who lifted our family up in prayer.

In under 15 minutes from the time I called Ashe, half my immediate family was standing in my house.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to move back home, where those I need are nearby.

Dad drove me to the hospital where we met up with Lamar and Giovanni, who by this time was getting closer to his normal self.  He apparently hit his big toe really hard on the fall down and was more concerned about that than anything else!  Once we got him an ice pack to distract him, it was off for a CT scan.  They told us that if he could not hold still enough, they would have to wait until it had been six hours after his last food so they could give him anesthesia and do it.  They also told us...he will not be still enough.

Thank you, God, for giving me a strong, godly daddy who gently held my hand while we drove
to the hospital and then took the lead to get me where I needed to be. 
(Even going as far as holding that nasty phone!) And for a godly mom who stayed behind to remind my kids of their faith.

Van just wanted to get home by this time, because his toe was feeling "much betterer" now.  I told him that they needed to take some pictures of his brain and that if he was a really good statue, he would get to go home soon.  Up one floor, he was put in the scanner and I was saddled with a lead apron so I could talk him through it.  We sent out the prayer request via text message that he would be able to hold still.  No small feat for this three year old!  The tech said that she thought they were good enough to read, but would know for sure in about 30 minutes.

Thank you, God, for giving Giovanni unreal self-control to get the images they needed.

After the CT scan, he was in the X-ray room to check on the toe injury, then back to observation to wait.  We watched TV, and Peepaw made up stories about the fish on the ceiling whose name was "Nuffin".  Meanwhile, I fielded texts and phone calls from friends and family scattered around the country, trying to keep everyone in the loop.  I even found out that many of them had contacted each other to make sure everyone knew.  Celeste offered to be there in ten minutes, and Shannon was willing to leave Logan with her dad and make an hour long drive if I needed her.  My friends in Seattle were ready to book flights.

Thank you, God, for the technology that puts loved ones in touch instantly, no matter the distance,
and for family and friends who want to do whatever they can, no matter the inconvenience.

Shortly after we got back, the doctor came to tell us the good news...that there was nothing irregular in the CT scan and that his toe was fine. 

Thank you, God, for protecting Giovanni from head to toe...literally!

  We were informed that we would have a follow up consult with the neurology department and that they would want to run an EEG on him.  They also instructed to make a follow up appointment with our pediatrician on Monday.  Oops, I had not picked a pediatrician yet.  BUT we did switch from Group Health which we has in Seattle to a PPO less than two weeks ago. The big deal here is that if we were still with Group Health, we would automatically be sucked into Kaiser because they are part of the same "family". 

Thank you, God, that all our ducks were in a row.

We got home at about 11:00.  After putting Giovanni in bed and checking on the other kids, (who all slept in the same room for comfort) Lamar and I held each other and shed a few tears together.  They were not tears of sadness, but tears of thankfulness and relief.  We checked on Van one more quick time before heading to bed ourselves.

Thank you, God, for my kids who rallied around each other and love each other
and for a husband who excels where I often fail.

Because we are with the PPO, we get to choose where we go.  I called a pediatrician at 8:05 this morning and we were booked for a 2:15 appointment today.  The Scripps Clinic is less than ten minutes from our house.  I more than likely would not have been able to get an appointment that quick with Kaiser.  We would have had to take him to urgent care tonight after 6, and it is about 25 minutes from home.

Thank you, God, for Lamar's job that gives him such great benefits so that
we do not have to worry about how to pay for medical care for our kids.

I know that these events may not seem like a big deal to many of you reading this blog.  I am sure that many of you have seen far greater tragedy than this.  But for me, this is the single scariest thing I have ever experienced.  For whatever reason, our family has not been struck with tragedy and trials as I know some of you have.  But because I put my hope and faith and trust in Jesus, I was entirely at peace throughout this ordeal.  As I watched my baby boy's lips turn blue, I could do nothing but cry out to my God.  I begged Him not to take my baby, but in the next beat of my heart, I relented that Giovanni does not belong to me.  I was reminded to hold on loosely, because I am only here to guide him and take care of him, because ultimately, he belongs to his Creator.

Thank you, God, for allowing me to take care of Your Giovanni for another day.

It's 7:45.  And 77 degrees.  We moved to San Diego (back "home") a little less than 8 weeks ago.  I have not blogged about it yet for two reason.  First, it takes a lot out of a girl to move cross country when she has like 17 kids.  Second, I have had such bittersweet feelings about the whole thing that I did not want to think too much about it.  Lamar and I had made a good life in Seattle..  Amazing friends, wonderful school, great church family...I could blog a whole list of things I loved about Seattle.  But in the end, it was the people, not things, that made our life what it was there.

I have told Lamar at our last two houses..."not every girl can look out her window and see everything she ever dreamed of - but I can!"  I have yet to say that at this house.  We have a fabulous house with an awesome view.  Everyone who comes over looks out our window and loves it.  I can see nearly 180 degree sunset views every night.  What I had not yet spotted was whatever it is that makes my house my home. 

This morning I looked out my window and realized that I was home: