When Uncles Come to Visit

My brothers came to see us on their way to Texas once this semester was over for them up north.  I love it when I get to see my brothers and Zach loves it when he gets to see his uncles.

My favorite thing to do when people come over to see Zach, is to find a place to do that which will provide better memories than only playing at our house.

Aaron and I decided that we had a good time at the park where we did our Easter hike and that that would be an excellent place to take my brothers.

They found an exciting way to get Zach down the giant stair case at the front of the park.

The hike was almost cut short by the fact that Zach, the dogs, and my brothers all wanted to stop at this patch of grass and run around and be silly.  No complaining.  They were a blast to watch while I held Sydney.

While I was with my brothers, I needed to get some fun flower shots (just like my dad).

When the hiking got under way, Zach wanted to help Aaron by walking the dogs.  He's very helpful like that.

We didn't hike very far since we had a human with little legs with us.  Uncle Daniel gave him a bit of a ride back.

Here is a picture of Sydney when she woke up and wanted to give the work a little peek.

We love when Zach's uncles come to visit us.  They are great guys who show Zach nothing but love.  He has great examples in both of those men and I always think about how blessed he is when they are around.

The Miracle I Needed

On December 31st, I lay in bed praying fervently.  I was praying to have my trials taken away.  Not all my trials, really.  Just one.

Earlier that day, the home care nurse team came to our house for the first time.  Aaron had been home from the hospital for 24 hours and it was time for his wound dressings to be redone.  It had always been the worst part of the day for him in the hospital.  The most painful.  He always had me leave for it because he didn't want me to have to see.  To have to bear it.

The wound care nurse told us that our insurance would only cover 25 home visits.  After that, it would be around $200 a visit, nearly $1,500 a week.  They advised that I learn from them how to do the dressings.

We had discussed the possibility of that while Aaron was in the hospital but I had been hopeful that the wounds from the surgery in November would be nearly gone by the time he came home.

Aaron laid down on our bed and I sat down next to him.  I had had my own surgery 4 days earlier and was still a little uneasy on my feet.  I held Aaron's hand as they start to set up.

There were so many wounds that they decided to do them in stages.

Gloves on.

They uncovered the middle incision from the surgery in December.  A nurse in the hospital, days after the surgery, had tried to explain it to me.  It was worse than I had imagined.

I willed myself to keep watching.  The wound was about 17 centimeters long starting from about two inches above where his belly button used to be.  His belly button wasn't centered anymore.  It looked as if the surgeon went around it, to spare it.

The wound was deep.  Very deep.  It went nearly 3 centimeters down into him.  They had had to leave it "open" because Aaron ran a high risk of wound dehiscence due to the previous infection.  That's a fancy way of saying, splitting open.  The drainage tubes were still in place, covered in dried blood.  They looked like the only things that were holding the two side of the wound together. I could see his muscle.  This huge wound was a bright beefy red (extremely healthy looking, I was told). I was looking into my husband.

The nursing team talked me through what they were doing.  Cleaning out the wound.  Change gloves.  Packing it with calcium alginate.  ...what is calcium alginate?

"It absorbs more drainage than regular gauze.  That way he won't bleed through his bandages and it will keep the wound fresh." Change gloves.  Covering it back up.

Next comes the wounds from November.  They pull off the tape and gauze covering the entrance to this hole.  This. Hole.  I hadn't seen this part of Aaron's body uncovered since the morning he went to the hospital.

A little piece of gauze is sticking out of it.  It doesn't look as bad as the wound on his stomach, I thought.  The new purple colored skin gives me an idea of the original size.  It had healed so much.  I felt myself relaxing.

The nurse grabbed a hold of the "tail" of gauze.  It was like a disgusting clown trick.  I had images of bright colorful scarves coming out of the clowns pocket, seemingly endless.  The comedy is in that cognitive dissonance.  The pocket is only so big....where are all these scarves coming out of?  Except there was only one color.  Red.

"Are you going to throw up?  You can leave if you're going to throw up."
"No.  I'm fine."

All the packing was out.  Change gloves.  It was time to clean the wound.

A wet piece of gauze on a long cotton tipped stick.

I watched as it disappeared inside my husband.  I couldn't wrap my head around that.  Where in my now 105lb husband was this stick disappearing?

The stick and gauze came back out, covered in blood.  Change gloves.

They began to pack the wound.  New clown scarves had to find their way back in.

They told me that I had to pack it completely, but not tight.  They explained complications that could arise if not done properly.  They told me about changing gloves at different stages.  Dirty never touches clean.  They were determined to help me learn.

2 more wounds to dress after that.   The whole process took over an hour.  I was emotionally exhausted. The nurses grabbed the bag filled with bloody garbage and arranged a time for the next day.  It had to be a time I was home and not at the hospital visiting/feeding/loving my daughter. They told me by the end of the week, I needed to show them that I could do it myself.  Myself.

I wanted to cry.  It was so much worse than I though.

So that night, while everyone else around town rang in the New Year, I prayed.

"Heavenly Father, please don't make me do this.  Please, by some miracle, heal Aaron in 25 days so that I don't have to do this.  I can't do it."

A thought came into my head, "Do you have faith that Aaron can be healed?  Do you believe that Christ is strong enough to give you this miracle?"

Yes. Yes. YES!  I have faith He is powerful enough to give me this miracle.  I know He is strong enough!

Another thought, "You don't need proof that Christ is strong.  You need to know that YOU are strong enough."

My prayer changed.  I prayed for strength.

The first day that I did one wound,  I prayed for strength.  The first day I did what I called "The Clown Trick", I prayed for strength.  The first day that I did all the wounds without the nurse there, I prayed for strength.

And I received it.

When I had to take Aaron to the emergency room because another small fistula had formed, I prayed for strength.  As I learned how to redress this new type of wound, I prayed for strength.  While learning the careful art of putting on a Wound VAC, I prayed for strength. When another wound reopened and needed to be cleaned out and widened, I prayed for strength.

Every day I asked for strength.  And I received it.

Tomorrow, Aaron gets his last surgery and if it all goes well, tonight will be my last wound change. It has been nearly 4 months since that night.  The 25 days long ago ran out and I'm reminded of a quote that I found while in the middle of all of this.

"Do not pray for tasks equal to your abilities, but pray for abilities equal to your tasks.  Then the performance of your tasks will be no miracle, but you will be the miracle."  -President Thomas S. Monson

I believe that Christ was strong enough to give me a miracle.  It wasn't the one that I wanted.  It was the one I needed.  And now I'm strong enough to be a miracle.

I say these things, in the name of my Redeemer, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

A Loving Brother

Zach loves his "Bee".  He hears her when she is sad and he wants to help her.  Zach will race across the apartment if he hears "A Bee a sad!"  He sees her smile and wants to play with her and make her smile even more.  He'll sit and play with her toes.

This is a picture of Sydney starting to cry and Zach knew exactly what needed to be done.  He picked up the "bink" and put it in her mouth.

She calmed down and stared into her sweet brother's eyes.

Then Zach said, "Nigh nigh" and pulled the blanket over them.

Sometimes when he wakes up in the morning, he'll try and find his sister.  And when he finds her, she will put his finger to his lips and say, "SHHHHHHHHHH!!!" right in her face.

He'll try and hold her hand and pat her head.  He cherishes her.  I don't think I could have planned for him to be a better big brother.  He naturally loves his role.  I'm so blessed by these two.

Songkran 2015

We didn't have a big Songkran party like we normally do since...well...we don't have the amount of Thailand friends that we did in Utah...or a yard to throw water.  BUT we didn't have to worry about the weather not being warm enough to play outside.  That was a definite plus.

First, I dressed up the kids in their Thai clothes from their grandparents.  My mom wanted pictures of them in their Thai clothes.

Willing participation was low.

I didn't edit these pictures but maybe some day when they go in a scrapbook, I'll get them looking a bit nicer.  For now, they are a  little dark but that's not hurting anyone.

Is he posing or scratching his head?  We're going with posing.

 Interest started to wane and so Zach took the lens cap and well....put it on.  The picture after this one was just blackness.

About to pick his nose or deep in thought?  We're going with deep in thought.

Then it was Sydney's turn.  There was a protest.

After some nursing and sweet talk, I got her to realize that I wasn't murdering her with a dress.

*wink*

The next order of business was to let Aaron know that he was coming home to a water fight.  My Facebook friends agreed that it wouldn't be sporting to shoot him without any warning.  This was on the door when he came home.

We waited....and some of us did a little dancing.  By some of us, I mean, Zach.

I held a baby and waited.  He couldn't shoot a woman with a baby, right?  Tactical advantage.

No pictures of the ensuing water gun battle.  But there was giggling and running through the house and hiding behind furniture and using children as fire walls.  Very small ineffective fire walls.

Then it was time to go outside and play in some water.  We went out on our patio and I filled up a bucket with water. 

Look how excited he looks in that picture. He can barely contain himself.

Once he figured out what we were doing, he got right into it.

Now he was smiles!  I might have been feeling excited also.

I didn't know whether he would cry or enjoy getting water dumped on him but I decided to give it a gamble and see what happened.  I got those water balls (from his Easter basket) and squeezed them out over him.

He squealed and giggled and wanted a turn.  I let him try them out.  He tried to get the camera man (Aaron...who couldn't get wet due to bandages).

Mostly we played with water toys.  Rocks and bowls and stacking cups with holes.  He appreciated the chance to play at our "water table" and experiment with different 

As he was pouring water into my hands, I remembered that on Songkran, children will pour scented water onto the hands of their parents and ask for a blessing from their parents and to show respect.

We were only playing with holes in a cup though so...NO BLESSINGS FOR ZACH!

The next day I went and got Thai food from an amazing restaurant near us.  Super delicious.  And I figured if the Thai people can celebrate all week, so can I.

Happy Songkran!!!  May your year be filled with blessings and good fortune.  May you do kind deeds to ease other's suffering and may you be cleansed of all your misfortune.