X-ray Day

 Tomorrow is Kyrie's follow up X-ray.  That means that he's had his colostomy for two months.  In some ways it really flew by.  Kyrie has been doing amazing with it.  With each adhesive change he gets braver and braver.  Last night when I was changing it, he even coached me through and said, "Mommy, you are doing a really great job!"  Those moments help a lot.

Honestly, Kyrie is the toughest little guy I know.  There were so many traumatic moments in the hospital, and Kyrie is dealing with them really well.  He talks about it all the time.  He tells people all the time that he was in the hospital.  And the doctors "did NOT to a great job!"  (Disclaimer: They really did a great job. He just hated it.  Rightly so.)  He'll tell people about the tube up his nose, and that it hurt.  He talks about the pokes and the owies.  I think that sharing his story with people helps him remember and wrap his head around it.  Other times when people ask me how he is in front of him, he tells me, "Don't talk about it!  Don't talk about my business!"  So I respect that.  It's amazing to me how my little four year old is such a grown up.  Some days he feels like sharing.  Other days he doesn't.  And for the most part, he'd rather talk about it himself than have me talk about it to people.  Makes sense to me.

His colostomy rarely effects him during his day to day.  He plays rough and swims, and sleeps on his tummy, and EATS.  Oh how my little boy eats.  It's the most beautiful thing.  Ezra even wants a colostomy bag like his big brother.  He wants to do everything he does, so it's just natural.  I have some extra bags that came in a sample.  They're not the type I use for Kyrie, so I stick them on Ezra.  He LOVES it!  It's so funny.  He doesn't mess with it or anything. But he's just super proud to be like his older brother. And it's good for Kyrie to see that it can be a cool thing too.

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So tomorrow is his follow up X-ray.  We'll find out if his sweet little body is ready for the next surgery.  There is nothing we can possibly do to prepare for this.  His body will be ready when it's had enough time to heal and his intestines have returned to a normal size.  Could be now.  Could be in a couple months.  And if he's not ready, the colostomy is going so smoothly that it's really no big deal to wait.

But I can't help but have immense anxiety over it.  I selfishly want him to be ready for surgery.  That means we can possibly schedule it for next week.  I'm still on summer break and I'll be able to have all the time in the hospital with him (5-7 days) without missing work.  I'll have a little time after that to help him transition home as he's healing.  I'll have a little time to figure out how potty training might go for him now that his body will be working properly.  It could go very smoothly.  It could also be very challenging if his body doesn't cooperate right away, or work as it should after the surgery.  There is a huge range of possibilities for how his body will work afterwards.  I'm hoping for the best. Trying to prepare for anything.

If he needs more time, I'm struggling with trusting how the timing will work out.  I have no problem taking time off work if necessary.  The tricky part is that I have a maternity leave coming up and my insurance is affected by how many days I am off.  It could especially get tricky if surgery happens close to or during my maternity leave.  How on Earth am I going to take care of a brand new infant, myself, and my sweet Kyrie as he heals?  How do I stay 5-7 days and nights in a hospital with Kyrie with a newborn?  It will be impossible for me to leave the baby.  Impossible for me to not stay with Kyrie.

I'm worried about affording all the time off.  I'm worried about being spread too thin between Kyrie and the new baby.  I'm worried neither will get enough attention when they need it.  Let alone Kingston and Ezra.  I'm worried about the surgery.  And recovery.

I know that logically it makes no sense to worry about all this.  I'll find out tomorrow, and we can figure it out from there.  He'll be ready, or he won't.  The surgery will be scheduled soon.  Or later.  And it will all be fine.  I know that.  In the meantime, Kyrie is pain free. And happy.  And talks NONSTOP.  And that is all I've prayed for.  A happy, healthy, little boy.  So now I just need to put my trust in God and know he's got this.  He knows the timeline.  He's got it figured out.  He's got my boy in his hands.

Ten Years

This day is never great.  It always catches me off guard, even though I know it's coming.  And this morning I realized that today marks ten years since my dad died.  I don't really feel like it could have been ten years already.  And so much has happened in my life that I haven't been able to share with my dad since we lost him to cancer.

I got my first teaching job.  One of my last big milestones I got to share with my dad was graduating from college.  I remember how proud he was of me that day and I remember the feeling of seeing him in the audience at my graduation.  We went out for a family dinner afterwards, but he didn't join us.  He wasn't feeling well.  That was in December. This happened again when we were on a family vacation to NYC on New Year's Eve.  We have some amazing friends that had hotel rooms for us all to celebrate the ball dropping in Times Square.  That's right.  Times Square.  I saw Regis.  We talked.  I have a picture to prove it.  But it's like a REAL picture.  Not a digital one.  And I'm not sure where it is located at this time in my life.  But it exists.  I swear.

But my dad was in the hotel room when the ball dropped.  Because he wasn't feeling well.  And just a couple weeks after that we learned all this not feeling well  was due to the small cell lung cancer taking over his body.

Since I lost my dad I fell in love.  Got married.  He didn't get to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.  But before he died, my daddy did get to walk me down the aisle.  I suppose that was truly the last big milestone I got to experience with my dad.  We set up a perfect little afternoon at my church.  I got to have the walk down the aisle with my daddy that every little girl dreams of.  And my dad got to walk with me.  We danced.  He gave me a beautiful pearl necklace that was my grandmother's.  I wore it my wedding day.  I treasure that necklace.  It was such a sweet day for us. And although he didn't get to come to my actual wedding day, he was a part of it.  And I had that beautiful memory as I walked down the aisle without him.

David never met my dad.  We had just become friends when my dad died.  He came to his funeral, but never met him.  I tell him about my dad all the time, but I really struggle that he didn't know him.  He couldn't possibly understand the kind of person my dad was just with stories.  He was such a huge personality.  Such a big piece of me.  I think if David had known my dad he would see so much of him in me.

We brought our beautiful first babies home from Ethiopia since my dad died.  I've had my first pregnancy.  And am in the middle of my second.  My dad would adore my babies.  He would love our three boys so much and this sweet little lady on the way too.  I know he would.  He would be an amazing grandpa, and it breaks my heart that my kids are robbed of that and they don't even know it.

I've grown so much from that fresh out of college - no job or money to my name - girl I was when my dad died.  And I'm not embarrassed by that girl.  That was one of the most important times of my life.  Thankfully I only had a basic office job to pay the bills while I searched for my teaching job.  My employers were amazing, and I could come and go as I pleased.  This weird "non-career" time in my life allowed me to go to every doctor's appointment and chemo appointment for my dad that I could make it to.  I learned everything I could about his cancer and drugs.  I spent more time with him during these months than I had in the previous few years.  And I'll always treasure that time I got with my dad.

I wish he knew me now.  I wish my kids could sit on his lap, and get tickled by him.  I wish they could experience his ridiculous jokes and quick wit.  I wish I could get advice from him.  And share my joys with him.

It's been ten years and it still hurts just the same.  I think I'm a little surprised by that.  I get caught up in all the feelings I had on that day ten years ago when he took his last breath.  I still feel like there is someone else I need to call when I have big news to share.  I still want to stop by his work just to chat every time I'm in the area.  I still miss his homemade breakfasts.  I miss it all.  And I know that I always will.  But it still catches me off guard every year.

Ten years, dad.  It feels like yesterday.  And I still miss you just the same.