Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Two Weeks Ago, One Week Ago, Years Ago

It seems every time things seem to be slowing back down and returning to normal something happens.  Perhaps it would be easier to assume that something is more likely to go wrong than to assume that things will all be whatever I consider to be normal.

Two weeks ago I got the results from my re-pap.  It was another good news/bad news result.  The good news is that the hpv portion of the test came back negative.  The bad news portion is that there are still some cell abnormalities.  There are quite a few different overall types of abnormalities but so as not to bore anyone basically there's the this looks strange but we don't know why and chances are it's no big deal type and then there's this looks very  not normal and we're guessing it could be pre-cancerous so you need further evaluation.  Thankfully, this time mine falls into the strange but not so strange I should panic type.  My doctor and I are hopeful that the slight changes are really just the result of my cervix still healing.  I am supposed to report back for another pap in four months.

One week ago I was right where I am now, sitting at home trying to relax after a day of work, except that last week my left shoulder blade, shoulder and upper arm were so sore I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't having a heart attack.  There was no specific incident that seemed to cause the pain.  It felt a tiny bit sore Sunday afternoon, sore enough on Monday that I took some Advil but then so much worse Tuesday that the Advil just laughed at me so I stepped it up to a leftover Vicodin which also did nothing.  After much googling, much of which included instructing me to call 911 immediately, I decided that I was not having a heart attack and that it was much more likely that I just pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve. Perhaps my arm was finally giving out after spending the last six years holding up babies and toddlers.  No matter what the cause, I was in a ton of pain so I headed out to the urgent care.  Many naproxens, percocets, ice packs, doctor visits, x-rays and finally a cortisone shot later, it is finally starting to feel a little bit better.  It's been a long week and probably even longer for the husband who has been in charge of all four kids all week since I have been unable to lift the baby or Sully or do much else.

Three years ago I would have been just recovering from my second miscarriage while also mourning the due date from my first miscarriage.  Each year those dates are a little easier to take.  Time may not heal all wounds but it definitely softens them.  The place I'm in now is a little odd though as I do still feel the pain of those losses and I mourn my two little lost babies and yet I'm not sure many people understand that.  I think most people who know us and know about our losses feel that having Sully and Maren has sort of taken care of things, as though children are replaceable.  I lost a little boy and then a little girl; then I gave birth to a live baby boy and a live baby girl so it's all equal now, right?  Not to me it's not but it's a paradox of sorts.  I wish I could have known those babies, raised them and watched them grow and yet had that happened I never would have had Sully and Maren and knowing and loving them the way I do now there's no way for me to say I would trade that for anything different than exactly what brought them to me.  I guess in the end it seems to be an issue I frequently have, I want it all.

Right now this is my all.  I can't believe my in-laws got a picture of all four of them actually looking at the camera. 

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