Author: lilydarais

On Friday I hadn’t slept in four nights, and so I can’t recall what happened. I think the kids had a good day and Clarissa was feeling better because I took these pictures:

I should have gone to bed the minute the kids went down, but in my zombie state I discovered the Nas Daily show and Nas’s girlfriend, Dear Alyne. I was so incapable of making good decisions that I binge watched everything until Abe came home at midnight. I am now obsessed with Nuseir and Alyne and have even invited them to General Conference. Alyne used to be LDS, so I figure she could snag Nas some tickets and they could do a cute little segment out here. I hope they come!

Anyway, when Abe finally came home after this crazy, crazy week, I was overjoyed to see him. I basically wrapped myself around him and didn’t let go. It was so wonderful to have him home.

Honestly, I don’t remember much that happened on March 01. I hadn’t slept for three nights and the day was a blur. (It is March 07 and I am back blogging.)

My favorite thing that happened that day happened to Abe. He got to meet our incredible, awesome renters, Shirlene and Linda. I am FB friends with Shirlene and have known all along that she is my type of person and that I love her. I figured the same was true for Linda. Half the reason I didn’t demand Abe fly home when Clarissa was hospitalized was because I wanted him to meet these women who have been in our condo for three years–and we’ve never met! I just knew it would be a good experience.

And it was. Shirlene and Linda are both med students at the University of Chicago. Shirlene is originally from Ghana and I’m not sure where Linda is from. But they are both, in Abe’s words, “totally delightful!” He called me raving about the experience and said I would love them so much. Shirlene is a somewhat well-known med-student cartoonist, and Linda is a creative film maker.

After this incredibly uplifting experience, Abe went to my old apartment building and dialed the code he used to dial to call my apartment. The code was “143.” 143 has a lot of significance because on my mission we wore pagers and “143” meant “I love you.” My missionary friends still use “143” with each other online and in person to express love.

While I was dating Abe, the code to my apartment was, randomly, 143. He remembers feeling happy, excited and in love while dialing those numbers, so he dialed them again just for fun.

On Tuesday night Clarissa was up all night with a high fever of 102 degrees. As I held her and nursed her, she started having short seizures. They were super short–less than one second–but she would startle, her eyes would widen with terror, and she would scream in pain for a long time after each one.

But the seizures were so short I kept thinking “Wait, did that just happen?” I thought maybe her fever was so high that she was having a painful muscle spasm or something, so I put a cool, damp cloth on her head and brought her into bed so I could watch her for the rest of the night. The seizures started again and happened every five minutes between 5:50 and 6:10am, and when I re-wet the cloth and held it on her head, they stopped.  Finally, in the morning when she was hyperventilating and limp on my shoulder, I decided to bring Clarissa into the pediatrician.

He sent us to the hospital because he feared she might have meningitis.

The neurologist at the hospital had me describe the seizures for him, and then he speculated that Clarissa had febrile myoclonus, which are basically short seizures that occur while a baby’s temperature is rising. This condition is extremely rare but usually the seizures are benign and there is nothing to do about them except bring the fever down.

The nasal swab showed that she also had three viruses: the adnovirus, the human metapneumovirus, and the rhinovirus.

At this point, I should have just said, “Great! We know what’s wrong with Clarissa. She doesn’t have meningitis, so I am going to bring her home so she can sleep and get better.”

Instead, I let the hospital play its please-don’t-sue-us games with Clarissa and me. The doctors wanted to protect themselves against lawsuits in case their diagnosis were wrong, so they ordered all sorts of tests, and, unbeknownst to me, were planning on keeping us there overnight. It would have been really nice for them to communicate this to me while I was on the phone with Abe trying to figure out if he should fly home or not. Every time I inquired if we could leave they told me that they wanted us to stay just a little longer for this and that.

One of the things they did was an EEG. This was torture for Clarissa. The EEG tech was delightful, but the actual procedure was so awful. Clarissa sobbed and cried the whole time. She kept looking at me as if to say, “Why aren’t you protecting me?” I felt so bad.

After this I put my foot down about the UTI test. The reasons they gave for testing her were stupid, and so I said no and told them that I was leaving. Then a nice doctor came in and convinced me to let them give her the test, so I wavered–and gave in. I was so mad at myself during the actual test, which was horrible.

After that I literally packed everything up, including Clarissa, and informed the nurses that we were checking out.

At this point, an angry, hostile, and aggressive doctor–that had not bothered to check on Clarissa except for when she first met her–came storming into the room and informed me that Clarissa could die if I took her home. She repeated this several times as I walked her through my own reasoning:

• We came here because we were scared she has meningitis
• Every single doctor has said she does not look like she has meningitis
• The neurologist gave a spot on diagnosis for the seizures
• The viral swab came back positive for three viruses
• Clarissa isn’t sleeping in the hospital and needs to sleep to get better.
• I have other sick kids at home, including one who started running a 103 degree fever the minute we took off for Clarissa’s appointment with the pediatrician. They will probably be getting up at night, my husband is out of town, and I need to be available for them.
• I haven’t slept for two nights, and neither Clarissa or I will get any sleep in the hospital.
• We are going home.

I then thanked her for her concern for Clarissa, to which comment the doctor did not respond. I honestly wasn’t trying to be sarcastic, but in retrospect, I was probably more upset than grateful.

Then Suzanne, who had come down to rescue us and help babysit the kids while I was in the hospital with Clarissa, came and picked us up from the hospital.

After she took us home, I tried to get Clarissa to sleep–to no avail. She was so traumatized from the hospital that she screamed all night long. I took her into bed with me and let her scream in my arms for hours and hours until she finally fell asleep.

I felt so, so bad and guilty for letting them do so much unnecessary stuff to her. I felt like I had lost her trust. It was a horrible day.

Well, I was up late reading my book, and that was good because Ammon puked in the night. I was already awake and Ammon was so darling when I went to him. He said, “Sowee, Mama,” (“Sorry, Mama”) as I cleaned him up and gave him a bath. Of course as soon as he apologized I covered his sweet little face in kisses and told him he was just fine and that Mama loves, no wait, adores him.

Earlier in the day I packed him in the car to drop off Lydia before he had a chance to eat breakfast. A delayed meal is Ammon’s worst nightmare. He sobbed like his heart was breaking, and as I pulled out of our cul-de-sac, he looked forlornly out the window and wailed, “NANA, WHERE ARE YOU???” He just knew if his Nana had been around, she would have fed him. Ammon doesn’t often talk in complete sentences, so his ability to string together this grief-stricken sentiment made me burst out laughing. I laughed almost the entire drive and fed him immediately when we got home.

(This scenario followed shortly on the heels of our Saturday dinner, which was also a delayed meal. Ammon was so hungry–to his mind–we do actually feed him frequently–that he again sobbed until he couldn’t bear it any more. When the food finally came, he was practically too sad and exhausted to eat so he put his head down on his tray in sorrow instead. We all thought this was adorable because it was such a visual depiction of the depth of Ammon’s love for food.)

Just as Ammon is passionate about food, Lydia is passionate about foreign people and foreign languages. I felt so bad for not enrolling her in a Mandarin immersion program because she is bananas about anything from China…but in light of the fact that she struggled to learn to read basic English, it’s probably good we put her in a school that would help her with that.

Thankfully for Lydia, her school also offers foreign languages to the students. They told us that we, the parents, could pick a language for our child, but it turns out that Lydia somehow managed to enroll herself in German without consulting us.

Had she asked, I would have given her choice my enthusiastic consent because I too love German. I still have some German books around from when I studied it, and discovering those books today made Lydia’s day. She went to sleep tonight studying the German-English, English-German dictionary. Since, as mentioned before, reading is not her strong suit, I honestly wondered how she would fare with the dictionary. I really don’t know if she read much at all, but she certainly loved flipping through the pages and attempting to read.

I love this girl.

Today Abe left for his week long work trip. It is SO sad to have him gone, but I am trying hard to make this week as full and happy as possible so the time flies.

To that end, we have scheduled out some playdates. This morning we got together with Heather, Olivia, Amy, Elle, and Maddie.

We had a great play date and a fun day after that. I would write more, but I stopped by the library and am dying to read my book.

This evening we had our friends, the Harmons, over for dinner. They just had a baby, and so we made them dinner. Normally we would deliver dinner in these circumstances, but for whatever reason, we get together with the Harmons instead. Tonight Abe and I looked into their eyes and recognized the deep fatigue we felt ourselves six months ago. We feel for them.

Having a new baby is so hard, and on top of that, Steve is getting a long distance executive MBA from Duke (and traveling for that), and in two weeks has both Summit (wherein he is supposed to individually meet with fifty clients that are flying in, participate in all of the Summit activities and still manage his daily work load), AND his finals. I don’t know when he is going to have time to study, so I am praying for him and Blair now.

It was so fun watching their son, James, play with Ammon. They are the same age and have the same energy, although James towers over Ammon. James was the biggest baby I have ever seen, probably because Blair produces incredible breast milk. Her foremilk has the same fat content as most women’s hindmilk, and her hindmilk is 37 CALORIES PER OUNCE. Coke, in comparison, has only 11 calories per ounce.

At any rate, Blair and I made play date plans for this week. Abe will be gone all week, and Steve is so busy he’s never home, so we are going to indulge in one of my favorite activities and commiserate. I can’t wait.

The highlight of Saturday was the evening concert we attended at the Blosil’s house. The Blosils are on the board of the Gina Bachauer International Piano Competition, so they hosted a “salon” at their house Saturday evening. Stephen Beus (incidentally, the husband of one of my mission friends!), a former Bachauer gold medalist, Julliard grad, and current piano professor at BYU, gave a splendid performance.

He played:

Mendelssohn piano sonata in E major, opus 6 Mendelssohn wrote this at age sixteen, and the piece is full of teenage angst. I forgot to listen for the teenage angst, which Abe heard and found delightful.

Liszt Ballad No. 2 in b Minor This is the story of Hero and Leander. My favorite part was Hero’s death, which is reminiscent of the way Chopin’s Ballad No. 1 ends. I also enjoyed the meeting of Hero and Leander in heaven, where the theme switches to a sublime B major. B major was Liszt’s “heaven”–not just in this piece, but in his others too.

Bach-Liszt Organ Fantasy and Fugue in g Minor Liszt got carried away in some of his transcriptions. In this one, he literally transposed every single note of Bach’s organ piece (including pedal parts!!) and put it on the piano.

Before this highlight, we spent a lot of Saturday feeling tired. I baked another chocolate prune cake. I made one earlier this week and it soared to the top of our “family favorites” list.  I got it from the cookbook, “Have Your Cake and Eat It Too,” a book I bought because of the title. None of the desserts actually captured my imagination until I went on my diet, and now I am completely enthralled with this book. I read it every day.

Our only other picture from the day is of Lydia playing in the snow.

I completely forgot about this month’s book club until it rolled around on Friday. Good thing the book this month was short. It was also AMAZING. We read Left to Tell: Finding God in the Rwandan Holocaust. Honestly, my expectations for this book were low. I have already read a few memoirs and books about the Rwandan Holocaust, and when I originally got the book, I just looked at it and felt weary. I did not want to read more about the horrors I knew this memoir would inevitably contain.

BUT. This memoir blew me away. It read very similarly to Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place. The fervent faith of Immaculée, the author, brought me to my knees in repentance. As I read about the miracles God did for her and the mighty works she accomplished by faith, I felt so, so inspired. I spent the rest of the day asking God to purge everything but love from my heart. Immaculée suffered at the hands of evil, and she returned this with burning love and forgiveness.

That is the miracle of grace. This book was as inspiring as scripture.

I brought the kids to Qualtrics in the morning so I could read while they played. They ate breakfast there because the cleaning crew was at our house.

Lydia’s school called an emergency snow day, so around noon I woke up Clarissa, packed up everyone in the car, and picked her up. I meant to take advantage of the extra home time to fit in some great practice with the girls…but I just let them have free time all day while I read instead. I did manage to bake some raspberry jam currant buns for my mom’s arrival home from Pittsburgh and make some chili, but that was about all.

Before I left for book club, the girls painted faces. Lydia painted Mary’s and Ammon’s face (in addition to her own),

and Mary painted Abe’s.

 

Face painting, though great fun while it lasted, ended up in a major tantrum from Mary over spilled glitter. Upon hearing her screams and seeing glitter all over the house (and this just mere hours after the cleaning crew had cleaned everything), I threw all of the glitter in the house away.  It ended up being a stressful evening for Abe, who had to deal with tantrums and poop accidents in the tub (Ammon)  and blow-outs afterward (Ammon) and poop accidents in general (Mary).

While Abe was dealing with poop everywhere, I went to book club, which ended up being the best book club we’ve ever had. Jill’s sixteen year old daughter, Katie Freestone, joined us. Katie babysits for us and sends me the sweetest texts, and I love her so much. She contributed incredible depth and spirituality to the lesson.

One of my favorite parts was when Katie told us how she recited “Jesus the Christ” to her friend as they came to a steep hill on their run. She also talked about looking out at her classmates and being able to see them all as God’s children. One of her other comments was that discomfort is often part of turning to God, and since her life doesn’t have discomfort like the kind found in the book, she seeks it out through self discipline (such as running or denying herself chocolate).

I was so impressed by Katie. I was so impressed by Immaculée. I was impressed by the other women in the book club and their sincere comments about how they do or don’t find God in their lives.

Basically, I was impressed and inspired all day. While I was busy being impressed and inspired, my children were busy being neglected. Hopefully all of this inspiration will translate into better mothering so someday they will be talking about how, at the age of sixteen, they recite “Jesus the Christ” to their friends as they run up hills and such. That would be a dream come true.

On Thursday I had another play date with my friend, Heather, and her daughter, Olivia. We have started doing this weekly because Heather and I connect so deeply and well. We have had some similar life experiences, although we have come out pretty differently.

Heather is the most empathetic, gentle, kind soul. She is also one of the most intelligent people I have ever encountered. She has a rare depth of self-awareness, and it is a joy to discuss anything and everything with her. Aside from being a mom, she works part time at the MTC answering all of the call-ins with questions that stump the missionaries. It’s a job she’s had for years. It is a hard job and many people with this job end up leaving the Church. Over the years Heather has basically been asked every hard doctrinal and cultural question about the Church out there. Somehow she has managed to emerge with a graceful, thoughtful, resilient faith. Again, I love talking with her and I am grateful to be her friend.

On Thursday evening Abe and I were both tired and stressed out. I was in a bad mood because it was past bedtime and the girls kept getting out of bed to poop. Mary also pooped in her pants, something she had been doing with such extreme frequency that the pediatrician urged us to bring her in ASAP. I am so tired of taking my kids to the doctor, sometimes multiple times a week…but I do need to bring her in. The pooping in her pants is really getting out of hand.

Mary has been hell to potty train. There’s really no other way to describe it.

Anyway, Abe was stressed from ethical dilemmas at work. I was stressed because I don’t know if Mary’s pooping is behavioral or if (as in my wild worst imaginations) it is some crazy sign of a terminal illness.

We resolved our stress by watching the Olympics in bed. The women’s figure skating finals were on, and that was exciting.

After Abe and I worked out, Clarissa woke up and Abe, instead of hurrying to work, got to play with her instead.

I scheduled a pediatrician well-check for Clarissa while Abe was home. I sent him to the doctor with both Clarissa and Ammon, who has cheeks that flare up bright red alarmingly often.

Abe reported that the doctor’s visit was a smashing success. Clarissa is right on track, Ammon’s red cheeks are nothing to worry about.

Ammon is very friendly and makes the most of his limited vocabulary. He enthusiastically greets and bids goodbye to all of his “friends,” and when he cried “GOODBYE, DR. SIMMONS!!” with a giant grin on his face and an enthusiastic wave of his hand, the nurses went crazy. Abe said they all wanted to take him home.

While he took the kids to the doctor, I visited a neighbor’s house and collected a lot of beautiful, free books. She’s giving away her amazing collection. I tried not to be too greedy because there are lots of people who wanted books, but I did fill two bags.

After school Lydia did Mary’s hair. Mary LOVED it.

I made her take the bow off before her piano recital in the evening, and that made Mary sob. In retrospect, I wish I had just let her keep it. After all, who cares, right? I will try to learn from this incident so I can make more compassionate decisions in the future.

Also, she got her scores from the competition back! She got 97/100 pts! Abe and I were so proud. I have a picture of her score paper and judge comments on my phone. When I find my phone, I’ll post it here.

Clarissa has been constipated, so we have been feeding her prunes.

Abe and I were so, so sad to have this day end. I actually felt a sense of loss knowing he would have to go back to work after this incredible stay-cation. We have enjoyed each other’s company and the company of our children so much. It’s been heaven.