Thursday, February 12, 2015
He Won at Life
Just a few words that I spoke at Sam's funeral.
"Before I begin, I would just like to thank everyone for coming to celebrate the amazing life of Sam Byram. The amount of people who came shows how well-loved Sam is.
Anyone who knows Sam knows how persistent he could be. Early in 2006, he saw a photo of me on my friend, Kirsten's, MySpace page. He kept bugging her to introduce us. Every time she told me about him, I kind of shrugged it off. I wasn't looking to date anyone at the time really. Plus, he was 21 and I was 27. When he was admitted to the CF Center for a 2 week tune-up, I finally gave in and agreed to visit him. Well, the joke was on me. I fell head over heals, he stole my heart, it was love at first sight. Sam was such a gentleman. From that day on, we have spoken everyday. Sam knew what he wanted in life and he was determined to succeed in all he did. And I loved that about him.
No one can say Sam lost his battle with CF because he won at life. Sam was a wonderful son, loving husband, gentle father, excellent friend, nephew, cousin, and uncle.
Sam lived out his dreams ~ he earned his MBA, studied very hard and became a CPA, purchased our dream home, got married, worked full time, was an avid tennis player, and became a father. I didn't know it was possible to love Sam anymore than I already did until I saw him with Owen. Sam wanted to do everything with Owen, even if that was changing the scariest of diapers. Owen was the light of Sam's life and I know he fought so much harder because of him. Sam wanted to be able to see Owen grow up, teach him how to play tennis, and cheer on the GIANTS each week during football season. Oh, how lucky I was that Sam chose me to follow his dreams with.
Not a day went by that he didn't tell me how beautiful I was or how much he loved me. If someone told me I had to choose between experiencing the greatest of all love for only a short time or mediocre love for a lifetime, I would choose the same path I chose. The joy, happiness, and true love I have experienced far outweighs the sadness I am feeling now.
Oh, how lucky I am to have the most handsome guardian angel zipping around heaven."
Three months ago tonite would be the last normal nite I would have. Your life can change in the blink of an eye. Cherish every moment with your loved ones.
"Undying love is more powerful than life; it lives beyond death." ~Scottie Somers
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
.......And That Is Why I Wore Red To My Husband's Funeral.
People plan what to wear to different special events all of the time. When you go out on a first date, you stare at your closet finding just the right outfit to wear. I went out and bought a new pair of jeans and a new shirt for our first date. When you meet the parents, you always make sure you have on the right outfit. Going out for a special, romantic dinner requires just the right outfit. Wedding dresses are probably the biggest clothing choice ever. The dress I picked out was the first one I tried on. I fell in love with it right away - kind of like how I fell in love with Sam right away. I knew it was the right one. I knew he was the right one. It took me forever to find an outfit for my job interview and my mom ended up bringing me to Bloomie's in the city and got me my dress that I absolutely love. It has a cute little leopard belt. Of course it has leopard! Would you expect anything different?
I don't think anyone ever plans what they are going to wear to their 30 year old husband's funeral. And that was the task that I was faced with. I thought about it but was too afraid to look in my closet because if I did, that meant that I had to find something to wear to my husband's funeral. If I put it off, it wasn't real. It was something I was dreading doing. But the day of his wake, I finally realized that I would have to wear something that nite and something the next morning for his funeral. When I opened my closet and looked in and saw all of Sam's clothes hanging on the right side, my heart sank. Then I looked over to the left side where my clothes hang. That is when I saw it hanging there. The red dress.
Sam always gave me the best presents. Whether it was something big like a computer or something small like a board game, it was always something I needed/loved. One year, for my birthday, Sam bought me 2 dresses. One was pink and one was red. I loved them both. They were very fitted, though, and they showed every single lump and bump. Sam loved the dresses and he loved me in them. When he and I attended the dinner for the March of Dimes Nurse of the Year Awards, he asked me to wear it. I was afraid to because I was not confident enough after I had Owie. So I made up an excuse and told him that I would wear it when we go out to eat to celebrate his new lungs. It makes my heart hurt that I told him no. Especially knowing how much he loved me in that dress.
I was afraid. That has always been a problem for me. I have always been afraid of what others will think and what they will say. To me, about me, behind my back. And I don't know why I care. I spent so much time telling Sam to not worry about the people staring when he coughed. Ignore the people who watched him walk with his oxygen. Smile at the people who stared while he rode in the little scooters while we went grocery shopping together. It was so easy for me to tell him to not care what others thought, yet I spent so much of my time worrying about what others thought of me.
When my mom and my sister asked me what I was going to wear, I was afraid to tell them. I didn't want them to think I was crazy for wanting to wear a red dress to my husband's funeral. I did not want people to think I was the modern day Blanche Devereaux. They both gave me the same answer. It doesn't matter what other people think. It is your husband's funeral. If it was his favorite dress, if he loved you in that dress, wear it! And it was that simple. That is when I learned to stop caring what other people think. And that it why I wore red to my husband's funeral.
"Be who you are and say what you feel. Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss
I don't think anyone ever plans what they are going to wear to their 30 year old husband's funeral. And that was the task that I was faced with. I thought about it but was too afraid to look in my closet because if I did, that meant that I had to find something to wear to my husband's funeral. If I put it off, it wasn't real. It was something I was dreading doing. But the day of his wake, I finally realized that I would have to wear something that nite and something the next morning for his funeral. When I opened my closet and looked in and saw all of Sam's clothes hanging on the right side, my heart sank. Then I looked over to the left side where my clothes hang. That is when I saw it hanging there. The red dress.
Sam always gave me the best presents. Whether it was something big like a computer or something small like a board game, it was always something I needed/loved. One year, for my birthday, Sam bought me 2 dresses. One was pink and one was red. I loved them both. They were very fitted, though, and they showed every single lump and bump. Sam loved the dresses and he loved me in them. When he and I attended the dinner for the March of Dimes Nurse of the Year Awards, he asked me to wear it. I was afraid to because I was not confident enough after I had Owie. So I made up an excuse and told him that I would wear it when we go out to eat to celebrate his new lungs. It makes my heart hurt that I told him no. Especially knowing how much he loved me in that dress.
I was afraid. That has always been a problem for me. I have always been afraid of what others will think and what they will say. To me, about me, behind my back. And I don't know why I care. I spent so much time telling Sam to not worry about the people staring when he coughed. Ignore the people who watched him walk with his oxygen. Smile at the people who stared while he rode in the little scooters while we went grocery shopping together. It was so easy for me to tell him to not care what others thought, yet I spent so much of my time worrying about what others thought of me.
When my mom and my sister asked me what I was going to wear, I was afraid to tell them. I didn't want them to think I was crazy for wanting to wear a red dress to my husband's funeral. I did not want people to think I was the modern day Blanche Devereaux. They both gave me the same answer. It doesn't matter what other people think. It is your husband's funeral. If it was his favorite dress, if he loved you in that dress, wear it! And it was that simple. That is when I learned to stop caring what other people think. And that it why I wore red to my husband's funeral.
"Be who you are and say what you feel. Those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss
Friday, January 23, 2015
Hello! It's just me, again.
It has been a really long time since I have posted on here - over a year! So much has happened in the past year - I am not even going to touch on the obvious today - losing my grandfather and my Sam. 2014 has made me realize that I need to live my life to the absolute fullest. I need to be true to myself and true to Owen. We are having to adjust to a new life and things have changed. Therefore, I have changed. There is one person in my life who I have to deal with and it isn't always the most pleasant experience. Railroading is how he gets his way and I have realized that this is not going to work. It is going to have to change. I don't have Sam to hide behind anymore. Some people are very outspoken and have no issues voicing their opinions, not really caring who they hurt as long as they get their point across. Others have a constant "poor me" attitude and have no issue telling anyone and everyone who will listen what their latest drama is - moping around and focusing on just the negative in their lives. The realization has hit that I cannot be around toxic people right now.
On to the happier stuff. Thank God for my Owie and my puppies. They are the reason I get out of bed every morning. During this past year, I have watched my baby boy blossom. He amazes me and I love seeing the person he is becoming. Owie is definitely a mix of Sam and myself. He loves to make people smile and laugh. Boy is he funny! Somehow, we were blessed with a mild mannered baby who will eat anything but cottage cheese, sleeps until about 10-10:30 am, loves to go shopping with me, and is pretty stinkin smart. And he is beautiful - on the inside and out. I can already tell that he is a gentle soul and he is going to go places. I am going to do everything in my power to make Sam proud in how I raise our son.
Short post, I know. Hopefully, I will be posting more about my journey. Our journey, actually. Thank you to everyone for their kind words and outpouring of love over the past few months. Thank you is something I can never say enough. Hugs to all and please, please, please cherish every moment with your loved ones. Hug them, kiss them, squeeze them tight. Tell them how much you love them. There is no such thing as saying it too much.
"Life is a story. Make yours the bestseller." ~ Unknown
On to the happier stuff. Thank God for my Owie and my puppies. They are the reason I get out of bed every morning. During this past year, I have watched my baby boy blossom. He amazes me and I love seeing the person he is becoming. Owie is definitely a mix of Sam and myself. He loves to make people smile and laugh. Boy is he funny! Somehow, we were blessed with a mild mannered baby who will eat anything but cottage cheese, sleeps until about 10-10:30 am, loves to go shopping with me, and is pretty stinkin smart. And he is beautiful - on the inside and out. I can already tell that he is a gentle soul and he is going to go places. I am going to do everything in my power to make Sam proud in how I raise our son.
Short post, I know. Hopefully, I will be posting more about my journey. Our journey, actually. Thank you to everyone for their kind words and outpouring of love over the past few months. Thank you is something I can never say enough. Hugs to all and please, please, please cherish every moment with your loved ones. Hug them, kiss them, squeeze them tight. Tell them how much you love them. There is no such thing as saying it too much.
"Life is a story. Make yours the bestseller." ~ Unknown
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
For Auld Lang Syne.....
As the year comes to a close, I am starting to think about some of the changes that I want to make in my life for 2014. Nothing drastic, just ways that I can strengthen the relationships that already exist and perhaps creating new relationships.
I just wanted to take a second to focus on some of the highlights of 2013. There were many highs and lows this year, but I really just want to point out some of the positives. These are in no particular order:
1. Sam and I deciding to try to have a baby again this year. We were told that it could take up to 6 tries with fertility treatments but it worked on the first try (aside from our effort from 2011).
2. Getting pregnant!
3. Winning the Daisy Award.
4. My bestie, Lisa, having her 2 beautiful twins, Annabelle and Henry.
5. Celebrating 3 glorious years of marriage to the best hubs a girl could ask for.
6. Being a balloon handler in the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta Christmas Parade.
7. My sister, Dana, being a cancer survivor and is now in remission.
8. Another bestie, Kathleen, getting engaged!!!!! WooHoo!!!!!
9. Seeing so many people that I had not seen in such a long time at my baby shower and being able to celebrate with them.
Well, I think that is it.
BAZINGA! (Just Kidding......)
My most amazing highlight of 2013 was........ Drum roll, please!
10. The birth of my beautiful Baby O!
Wishing you all a healthy, happy, joyful, beautiful, fun, peaceful 2014!
"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne ?
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.
from morning sun till dine† ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.
And give me a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.
I just wanted to take a second to focus on some of the highlights of 2013. There were many highs and lows this year, but I really just want to point out some of the positives. These are in no particular order:
1. Sam and I deciding to try to have a baby again this year. We were told that it could take up to 6 tries with fertility treatments but it worked on the first try (aside from our effort from 2011).
2. Getting pregnant!
3. Winning the Daisy Award.
4. My bestie, Lisa, having her 2 beautiful twins, Annabelle and Henry.
5. Celebrating 3 glorious years of marriage to the best hubs a girl could ask for.
6. Being a balloon handler in the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta Christmas Parade.
7. My sister, Dana, being a cancer survivor and is now in remission.
8. Another bestie, Kathleen, getting engaged!!!!! WooHoo!!!!!
9. Seeing so many people that I had not seen in such a long time at my baby shower and being able to celebrate with them.
Well, I think that is it.
BAZINGA! (Just Kidding......)
My most amazing highlight of 2013 was........ Drum roll, please!
10. The birth of my beautiful Baby O!
Wishing you all a healthy, happy, joyful, beautiful, fun, peaceful 2014!
"Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne ?
- CHORUS:
- For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
- CHORUS
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.
- CHORUS
from morning sun till dine† ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.
- CHORUS
And give me a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.
- CHORUS
Monday, December 30, 2013
Life's a Parade!
If I had a bucket list, there would be a HUGE check mark next to a task that I would definitely have on there. On December 7th, I had one of my dreams come true. It may seem something that is ridiculous or insignificant, but I got really excited about doing it and it turned out to be better than I thought it would be. Are you ready?!?!?!?! I had the privilege of being a balloon handler in the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta Christmas Parade! It was GREAT!!!!! Because I won the Daisy Award in February, I was asked to march in the parade. I had the best time. The balloon that I walked with was an elf balloon. It was the first one in the parade. If I could do it every year, I would! Of course, with everything I do, there had to be some "interesting" parts.
I had to be at the parade at 7 am. Every day leading up to the parade was in the 60's and 70's. For some reason, it decided to turn into winter weather that morning. I woke up, fed Baby O, and then my dad was picking me up to bring me to the parade so I did not have to worry about parking. Well, I hopped in my dad's car, which was parked in the middle of the driveway, and it would not start. His truck was blocking both doors of the garage. I called Sam and we did not have any sort of jumper cables or anything. So, my dad had to put the car in neutral and I steered while we inched his truck over slowly but surely. He ended up driving Sam's car to drop me off. Not quite sure how he achieved this, but I arrived at the parade at 7:05. There was a nice little cozy tent - which was nice because it was FREEZING! We were not allowed to wear coats or hats. I had on 7 shirts and a pair of gloves. I was an icicle. At 7:15, they told us they needed some volunteers to hold down some of the balloons while they were getting blown up. Eager to get started, I hopped to it and lent a hand. It turns out that I had to stand in the same spot from 7:15 until 10:30 when the parade started. In the FREEZING cold. For some strange reason, when they were asking for volunteers, the only people actually volunteering were CHOA nurses. Breakfast was provided and we froze and watched others (big strong burly men) stand in the tent nice and warm, eating and drinking coffee. We finally started to send one person at a time to get food. Would it surprise you that the nurses were standing there skipping a meal and being the first ones to lend a hand? While we were waiting, the man from the balloon company came over and told us that he was going to give us a quick lesson because we would not have a professional with us. He showed us how to raise and lower the balloon - as it turns out, Peachtree has tons of power lines. Balloons and power lines do not mix, so we had to raise and lower the balloon. The pro told us that no matter what, make sure that the balloon was flying nice and high when we got to the Grand Stand. This is where the TV cameras are and also where the sponsors and their families sit. Seemed easy enough, right?
As 10:30 approached, my heart was pounding! The band in front of us started to play. They started to walk. We got the cue for us to move. Around the corner we went - only to be greeted by a power line right away. We lowered and raised the balloon as though we had been doing this forever. Woo hoo! Marching along the parade route, waving to the thousands of people who were sitting along the street, this was a dream come true for me! Suddenly, the parade came to a halt. I knew what this meant. We were getting closer to the Grand Stand. This was it! Make the balloon look beautiful. As we were standing there, it started to get a little windy. I was thinking this was my big TV debut. It can't be windy. My hair was going to get all crazy and my eyes would start to water which would cause my makeup to run. We started to move again. This was it! We were approaching the Grand Stand! I could hear the announcer say that we were Daisy Nurses and describe what a Daisy Nurse it. Just as we were getting there, a GIGANTIC gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon. On the Grand Stand. On TV. In front of the sponsors and their families. More importantly, my hair was a mess. There went my hopes of being discovered. My chance of getting a walk on role on Days of Our Lives was completely gone. They did not keep the cameras on our balloon for very long. Just long enough to see me yelling at everyone to pull on their ropes to bring the balloon down - or as my dad said, "That's about right. There's Marisa being bossy and telling everyone what to do." Funny how as soon as we started moving, the wind died down.
We started walking again and managed the power lines with no issue. Along the route, there were several radio stations that were broadcasting. As we approached one, we could hear the announcer talk about how we were Daisy Nurses. With that, another giant gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon again. This time, the weight of the balloon started to pull us as the balloon got lower and lower to the ground. Suddenly, there was a chorus of children screaming as the balloon was rapidly making its way into the crowd of bystanders along the side of the street. How ironic is that? The nurses who usually save lives were now about to run people over with a giant elf balloon. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a children's hospital Christmas parade tragedy. Luckily, we gained control of the balloon again and finished the parade without any incidence.
One thing I did not realize is that, as balloon handlers, we would be responsible for deflating and folding up the balloon. At the end of the route, we took a left hand turn down a side street. I was at the butt end of the elf where the zipper was to let all of the helium out. The zipper was gigantic - about the width of my arm. I volunteered to unzip the balloon being that I was right there. I started to unzip and the zipper got stuck. A little bit of helium was leaking out of the small opening I created, but at that rate, we would be there until New Year's Day waiting to get it all out. So I tugged really hard on the zipper. That's when it happened. The helium started to rush out. I mean really rush out. My hair was flying backwards like someone who was sitting in a convertible going 80 miles per hour. I was so taken aback, I took in a huge gasp of air. I was paralyzed with shock as I could actually see the wavy lines of the gas streaming out. And that is when I opened my mouth to speak. I was able to mutter out, "I feel really dizzy, guys!" But it wasn't my voice. It was the voice of Mickey Mouse after HE had sucked helium. Everyone burst out laughing because my voice was so high pitched. Someone pulled me away from the opening and my voice stayed high for a bit longer than it would if you had sucked helium from your good old standard party balloon. I couldn't help but laugh. Only me.
Once our happy little elf was all deflated and folded, I was able to locate my fan club. It consisted of Sam, my dad, and Baby O. We piled in the car. At this point, I was so cold, my body stung when it started to warm up. When we got home, I watched the parade on DVR. Not long after that, I took a very long nap! Even with all of the issues we had, it was still a dream come true for me. Carrying a balloon looks like it is easy, but let me tell you, it is some hard work!
As for everything else, life is going well. Baby O continues to grow. How is he 11 weeks already? I go back to work on Sunday. I am not quite sure how they are going to be able to rip me away from Baby O. Perhaps I can wear him in his carrier during my whole shift? We stayed in GA for Christmas this year. It was hard for me to not be in NY. Christmas Day also marked 5 years since my Grams gained her angel wings. I hope everyone is doing well and gearing up for 2014!
"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life." ~Mike Ditka
"Do all you can to make your dreams come true." ~Joel Osteen
I had to be at the parade at 7 am. Every day leading up to the parade was in the 60's and 70's. For some reason, it decided to turn into winter weather that morning. I woke up, fed Baby O, and then my dad was picking me up to bring me to the parade so I did not have to worry about parking. Well, I hopped in my dad's car, which was parked in the middle of the driveway, and it would not start. His truck was blocking both doors of the garage. I called Sam and we did not have any sort of jumper cables or anything. So, my dad had to put the car in neutral and I steered while we inched his truck over slowly but surely. He ended up driving Sam's car to drop me off. Not quite sure how he achieved this, but I arrived at the parade at 7:05. There was a nice little cozy tent - which was nice because it was FREEZING! We were not allowed to wear coats or hats. I had on 7 shirts and a pair of gloves. I was an icicle. At 7:15, they told us they needed some volunteers to hold down some of the balloons while they were getting blown up. Eager to get started, I hopped to it and lent a hand. It turns out that I had to stand in the same spot from 7:15 until 10:30 when the parade started. In the FREEZING cold. For some strange reason, when they were asking for volunteers, the only people actually volunteering were CHOA nurses. Breakfast was provided and we froze and watched others (big strong burly men) stand in the tent nice and warm, eating and drinking coffee. We finally started to send one person at a time to get food. Would it surprise you that the nurses were standing there skipping a meal and being the first ones to lend a hand? While we were waiting, the man from the balloon company came over and told us that he was going to give us a quick lesson because we would not have a professional with us. He showed us how to raise and lower the balloon - as it turns out, Peachtree has tons of power lines. Balloons and power lines do not mix, so we had to raise and lower the balloon. The pro told us that no matter what, make sure that the balloon was flying nice and high when we got to the Grand Stand. This is where the TV cameras are and also where the sponsors and their families sit. Seemed easy enough, right?
As 10:30 approached, my heart was pounding! The band in front of us started to play. They started to walk. We got the cue for us to move. Around the corner we went - only to be greeted by a power line right away. We lowered and raised the balloon as though we had been doing this forever. Woo hoo! Marching along the parade route, waving to the thousands of people who were sitting along the street, this was a dream come true for me! Suddenly, the parade came to a halt. I knew what this meant. We were getting closer to the Grand Stand. This was it! Make the balloon look beautiful. As we were standing there, it started to get a little windy. I was thinking this was my big TV debut. It can't be windy. My hair was going to get all crazy and my eyes would start to water which would cause my makeup to run. We started to move again. This was it! We were approaching the Grand Stand! I could hear the announcer say that we were Daisy Nurses and describe what a Daisy Nurse it. Just as we were getting there, a GIGANTIC gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon. On the Grand Stand. On TV. In front of the sponsors and their families. More importantly, my hair was a mess. There went my hopes of being discovered. My chance of getting a walk on role on Days of Our Lives was completely gone. They did not keep the cameras on our balloon for very long. Just long enough to see me yelling at everyone to pull on their ropes to bring the balloon down - or as my dad said, "That's about right. There's Marisa being bossy and telling everyone what to do." Funny how as soon as we started moving, the wind died down.
We started walking again and managed the power lines with no issue. Along the route, there were several radio stations that were broadcasting. As we approached one, we could hear the announcer talk about how we were Daisy Nurses. With that, another giant gust of wind came and we lost control of the balloon again. This time, the weight of the balloon started to pull us as the balloon got lower and lower to the ground. Suddenly, there was a chorus of children screaming as the balloon was rapidly making its way into the crowd of bystanders along the side of the street. How ironic is that? The nurses who usually save lives were now about to run people over with a giant elf balloon. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a children's hospital Christmas parade tragedy. Luckily, we gained control of the balloon again and finished the parade without any incidence.
One thing I did not realize is that, as balloon handlers, we would be responsible for deflating and folding up the balloon. At the end of the route, we took a left hand turn down a side street. I was at the butt end of the elf where the zipper was to let all of the helium out. The zipper was gigantic - about the width of my arm. I volunteered to unzip the balloon being that I was right there. I started to unzip and the zipper got stuck. A little bit of helium was leaking out of the small opening I created, but at that rate, we would be there until New Year's Day waiting to get it all out. So I tugged really hard on the zipper. That's when it happened. The helium started to rush out. I mean really rush out. My hair was flying backwards like someone who was sitting in a convertible going 80 miles per hour. I was so taken aback, I took in a huge gasp of air. I was paralyzed with shock as I could actually see the wavy lines of the gas streaming out. And that is when I opened my mouth to speak. I was able to mutter out, "I feel really dizzy, guys!" But it wasn't my voice. It was the voice of Mickey Mouse after HE had sucked helium. Everyone burst out laughing because my voice was so high pitched. Someone pulled me away from the opening and my voice stayed high for a bit longer than it would if you had sucked helium from your good old standard party balloon. I couldn't help but laugh. Only me.
Once our happy little elf was all deflated and folded, I was able to locate my fan club. It consisted of Sam, my dad, and Baby O. We piled in the car. At this point, I was so cold, my body stung when it started to warm up. When we got home, I watched the parade on DVR. Not long after that, I took a very long nap! Even with all of the issues we had, it was still a dream come true for me. Carrying a balloon looks like it is easy, but let me tell you, it is some hard work!
As for everything else, life is going well. Baby O continues to grow. How is he 11 weeks already? I go back to work on Sunday. I am not quite sure how they are going to be able to rip me away from Baby O. Perhaps I can wear him in his carrier during my whole shift? We stayed in GA for Christmas this year. It was hard for me to not be in NY. Christmas Day also marked 5 years since my Grams gained her angel wings. I hope everyone is doing well and gearing up for 2014!
"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life." ~Mike Ditka
"Do all you can to make your dreams come true." ~Joel Osteen
Do all you can to make your dreams come true.
Joel Osteen
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/topics/topic_dreams.html#6lAv1hWVwE8YY4o5.99
Joel Osteen
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/topics/topic_dreams.html#6lAv1hWVwE8YY4o5.99
If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life.
Mike Ditka
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/parade.html#WdtP6tfA2hohT2r7.99
Mike Ditka
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/parade.html#WdtP6tfA2hohT2r7.99
Sunday, December 1, 2013
The Angels Didn't Sing; My Heart Did Not Swell.
Long time, no type! I will give the fast forward version of the rest of my pregnancy. My friends and family threw me some great showers. My first one was my shower in NY and it was so great to see all of my friends and my mom and sister's friends. We had the best time! There was only one thing missing ~ my Grams! I know she would have had the best time and I would have loved for her to give my belly some rubs. The next shower was my work shower. This was like something off a Pinterest board. I have some very crafty and talented co workers! It was beautiful! Next, came Sam's work shower. It was great to meet Sam's co-workers. They took time out of their busy day to decorate, have lunch and cake with us, and open some really beautiful gifts. Lastly was the shower Sam's mom and aunts threw for me. It was a whole lot of fun and it was great to see people that I had not seen in quite a while. They served all of my favorite goodies ~ from yummy chicken salad sandwiches to scrumptious cupcakes!
The remainder of my pregnancy was relatively calm. I had a scheduled c-section because the dr's kept saying that the baby's head was somewhere between the 88th and 93rd percentile. When you have an angry pelvis, that wouldn't be a good thing to go the natural route! So, I scheduled my c-section for Wednesday, October 9th. We were all set and ready to go. Unfortunately, Sam was not feeling very well and ended up being admitted into the hospital on October 7th. I was completely panic stricken because I was worried that a) Sam would miss the birth of the only child we were going to be having, b) the nursery was not finished yet and I knew that it would not be easy to finish it once our little friend arrived, and c) what if I went into labor before the c-section? I was a nervous wreck! Thankfully, my OB was willing to do the c-section on Friday, October 11th. Keep in mind, my dr was going on vacation that day, but he rearranged his schedule to come in on his day off to bring our little bundle of love into this world. Now, the next step was to make sure that Sam's dr discharged him on Thursday evening, which did happen. Sam got out early enough so we were able to even have one last date nite at our favorite Italian restaurant.
I looked at the extra 2 days that I was pregnant with Owen as a gift from God. It was extra time that I got to spend with him as close to my heart as possible. I enjoyed 2 more days of kicks, hiccups, and bumps. It was special Owen-Mommy time. I had such a rough pregnancy, I was able to enjoy these 2 days peacefully. I knew this was going to be the only time that I would have this experience so I wanted to make it last as long as I could.
I woke up on Friday morning at about 2 am and was having contractions. We had to be at the hospital at 6:30 am so I figured there was no use in going any sooner. Thankfully, he held out until my scheduled surgery time of 8:30 am. I was a nervous wreck about getting the epidural and bawled my eyes out when they were doing it. In nursing school, I had seen both an epidural being put in and a c-section being performed so I was fully aware of what was going on. There was a nursing student in the room for both and I apologized to her once the epidural was in. It was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be!!!! My surgery was started at 8:52 am and at 8:55 am, our beautiful Baby O was brought into this great big world. Everyone kept saying how cute he was and Sam said he had a lot of hair. It felt like forever before I got to see him. When I finally did, I said, "Oh he really is cute! I was so afraid he would be an ugly baby! And I thought you guys were just telling me he was cute because you had to!". And I know he really is cute because my brutally honest ANM at work said he really is cute. So he has to be!
Once we were in the recovery room, I saw Sam as a whole new person. Owen's blood sugar was low, so they had to stick him a few times and Sam just held his hand and talked to him and rubbed his head the whole time. It was a beautiful thing to watch. While in recovery, I told Sam that I didn't feel like I thought I would once Owen was born. I kept hearing people say that as soon as you hold your baby in your arms, you will feel a love that you have never felt before. I didn't hear angels singing or feel my heart swell with emotion. I was tired and overwhelmed. I felt scared. My life would never be the same. I don't like change. In fact, I hate it. I loathe it. And this was a very big change. Every nite, I sent Owen to the nursery. On Saturday morning, they brought Owen to my room and as soon as the nurse walked out, I burst into tears. I was in too much pain to lift him out of his bassinet and I did not want to call the nurse in and bother her. I barely held him the whole time I was in the hospital because it just hurt too much. When I tried breast feeding, he would not latch on and it was very frustrating. So much so that I would cry when I was in my room by myself and I would pray that my nurse or tech wouldn't come in. I watched Sam bond with Owen and the love he had for him was just pouring out. I was so sad that I did not have the same feeling. This was something I wanted more than anything and had waited so long for and worked so hard to get and I wasn't feeling what I thought I should be feeling. It wasn't until we got home and things settled down that I really looked at him and realized just how in love I was.
So much has changed in the past 7 weeks. I am at the point where I sit and stare at Owen and study every little face he makes, every little movement his hands make, every little smile and smirk, and every little giggle and coo that comes out of that sweet little mouth. Breast feeding has gotten much better. I did way more than I was supposed to when I got home so my pain was pretty severe for quite a few weeks. By day 15 after I had Owen, I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight because the pain medication really made me lose my appetite. My OB was kind enough to sew my abdominal muscles back together during my surgery so I don't have too much of a poochy thing going on. The dogs still sleep on the bed with us and we have tried to keep things as constant as possible for them and show them as much love and affection as we did before. Phoebe took to him right away but Lulu needed some time to warm up. She still only licks his hair and then runs away. I can't wait to see the girls and Owen grow up together.
Seven weeks ago, I hated - even loathed - change. It took an 8 lb 1 oz 20" little boy named Owen Vance Byram to open my eyes and make me realize that some change is great.
"Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid, one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory." ~Douglas MacArthur
“The best love in the world, is the love of a man. The love of a man who came from your womb, the love of your son! I don't have a daughter, but maybe the love of a daughter is the best, too. I am first and foremost me, but right after that, I am a mother. The best thing that I can ever be, is me. But the best gift that I will ever have, is being a mother.” ~ C. JoyBell C.
The remainder of my pregnancy was relatively calm. I had a scheduled c-section because the dr's kept saying that the baby's head was somewhere between the 88th and 93rd percentile. When you have an angry pelvis, that wouldn't be a good thing to go the natural route! So, I scheduled my c-section for Wednesday, October 9th. We were all set and ready to go. Unfortunately, Sam was not feeling very well and ended up being admitted into the hospital on October 7th. I was completely panic stricken because I was worried that a) Sam would miss the birth of the only child we were going to be having, b) the nursery was not finished yet and I knew that it would not be easy to finish it once our little friend arrived, and c) what if I went into labor before the c-section? I was a nervous wreck! Thankfully, my OB was willing to do the c-section on Friday, October 11th. Keep in mind, my dr was going on vacation that day, but he rearranged his schedule to come in on his day off to bring our little bundle of love into this world. Now, the next step was to make sure that Sam's dr discharged him on Thursday evening, which did happen. Sam got out early enough so we were able to even have one last date nite at our favorite Italian restaurant.
I looked at the extra 2 days that I was pregnant with Owen as a gift from God. It was extra time that I got to spend with him as close to my heart as possible. I enjoyed 2 more days of kicks, hiccups, and bumps. It was special Owen-Mommy time. I had such a rough pregnancy, I was able to enjoy these 2 days peacefully. I knew this was going to be the only time that I would have this experience so I wanted to make it last as long as I could.
I woke up on Friday morning at about 2 am and was having contractions. We had to be at the hospital at 6:30 am so I figured there was no use in going any sooner. Thankfully, he held out until my scheduled surgery time of 8:30 am. I was a nervous wreck about getting the epidural and bawled my eyes out when they were doing it. In nursing school, I had seen both an epidural being put in and a c-section being performed so I was fully aware of what was going on. There was a nursing student in the room for both and I apologized to her once the epidural was in. It was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be!!!! My surgery was started at 8:52 am and at 8:55 am, our beautiful Baby O was brought into this great big world. Everyone kept saying how cute he was and Sam said he had a lot of hair. It felt like forever before I got to see him. When I finally did, I said, "Oh he really is cute! I was so afraid he would be an ugly baby! And I thought you guys were just telling me he was cute because you had to!". And I know he really is cute because my brutally honest ANM at work said he really is cute. So he has to be!
Once we were in the recovery room, I saw Sam as a whole new person. Owen's blood sugar was low, so they had to stick him a few times and Sam just held his hand and talked to him and rubbed his head the whole time. It was a beautiful thing to watch. While in recovery, I told Sam that I didn't feel like I thought I would once Owen was born. I kept hearing people say that as soon as you hold your baby in your arms, you will feel a love that you have never felt before. I didn't hear angels singing or feel my heart swell with emotion. I was tired and overwhelmed. I felt scared. My life would never be the same. I don't like change. In fact, I hate it. I loathe it. And this was a very big change. Every nite, I sent Owen to the nursery. On Saturday morning, they brought Owen to my room and as soon as the nurse walked out, I burst into tears. I was in too much pain to lift him out of his bassinet and I did not want to call the nurse in and bother her. I barely held him the whole time I was in the hospital because it just hurt too much. When I tried breast feeding, he would not latch on and it was very frustrating. So much so that I would cry when I was in my room by myself and I would pray that my nurse or tech wouldn't come in. I watched Sam bond with Owen and the love he had for him was just pouring out. I was so sad that I did not have the same feeling. This was something I wanted more than anything and had waited so long for and worked so hard to get and I wasn't feeling what I thought I should be feeling. It wasn't until we got home and things settled down that I really looked at him and realized just how in love I was.
So much has changed in the past 7 weeks. I am at the point where I sit and stare at Owen and study every little face he makes, every little movement his hands make, every little smile and smirk, and every little giggle and coo that comes out of that sweet little mouth. Breast feeding has gotten much better. I did way more than I was supposed to when I got home so my pain was pretty severe for quite a few weeks. By day 15 after I had Owen, I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight because the pain medication really made me lose my appetite. My OB was kind enough to sew my abdominal muscles back together during my surgery so I don't have too much of a poochy thing going on. The dogs still sleep on the bed with us and we have tried to keep things as constant as possible for them and show them as much love and affection as we did before. Phoebe took to him right away but Lulu needed some time to warm up. She still only licks his hair and then runs away. I can't wait to see the girls and Owen grow up together.
Seven weeks ago, I hated - even loathed - change. It took an 8 lb 1 oz 20" little boy named Owen Vance Byram to open my eyes and make me realize that some change is great.
"Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid, one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory." ~Douglas MacArthur
“The best love in the world, is the love of a man. The love of a man who came from your womb, the love of your son! I don't have a daughter, but maybe the love of a daughter is the best, too. I am first and foremost me, but right after that, I am a mother. The best thing that I can ever be, is me. But the best gift that I will ever have, is being a mother.” ~ C. JoyBell C.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Baby Boy Byram Almost Makes An Early Appearance!
There are a lot of things about pregnancy that can be uncomfortable, yet overlooked. You have your backaches, frequent urination, swollen toes, stretch marks, you get the point. And then there are some other aspects of pregnancy. I love being pregnant and love the thought of becoming a mother soon. Scared, yes, but very excited. This is something that Sam and I have wanted for a really long time. But, there have been several bumps in the road that have made me flop down on my bed and cry hysterically while asking God why he is doing this to me.
Let's start with the week before I became pregnant. It was the day of my sister's surgery in January and I noticed that morning that I was peeing a whole lot more than normal. Within a few hours, I was urinating pure blood. A trip to the Dr., 2 bags of fluid and a dose of rocephin later, my MD sent me to the ER because he started to get a little nervous. Yay for a crazy kidney infection! That, my friends, was the start of what I call The Pregnancy Plague. I should have known what would lie ahead!
At 6 weeks on the nose, I started with morning sickness. Not just any morning sickness. We are talking retching, vomiting, gagging, and, my favorite part, an aversion to liquids. That's right folks. I could not drink ANYTHING without gagging and vomiting. So much for the stay hydrated speeches I got from my dr! That lasted until week 13. I was pulled out of work for 2 weeks so I could rehydrate and take it easy. I was released to my OBGYN who told me that she had never had anyone with a liquid aversion. Yay for me being a freak!
Week 14 was not all that bad! I was feeling good, no more morning sickness, sleeping well, feeling energized. I was thinking, "Let's just forget about the first trimester and take it from here! I can consume liquids! Everything is going to be smooooooooooth sailing!" That was until week 15 hit and I was leaving work one day and felt like I had something in my eye. I went to the bathroom to take a peek only to see that my eye was bright red and had this disgusting gunk all over it. After a trip to the eye dr, I was diagnosed with an ulcerated cornea. Apparently, it is rare, but it does happen to pregnant women who wear contacts. After some eye drops and some days of just glasses as well as 3 eye dr appts, my eye was back to normal.
Then Week 16 hit and so did the migraines as well as a little bit of pain in my pelvis. The migraines were just spiffy! I would be talking to people at work and spontaneously vomit in trash cans. My co-workers were nice enough to let me have a migraine corner where the lites remained off and it was my quiet zone. Those lasted until about week 22. Almost every stinkin day, there was a headache. Accompanied by vomiting. Thanks to the vomiting, I became extremely dehydrated and had to go to the hospital for fluids. Hooray! As for the pelvic pain, I figured it was just round ligament pain and everything just shifting and moving around. Hah! Was I wrong about that!
Week 26, I woke up one Monday morning after working all weekend and was in excruciating pain. Come Tuesday, I felt like I could not move. The culprit was still kind of up in the air. My dr was thinking either separated pelvis or pulled muscle in my groin. The solution: modified bed rest for nearly 2 weeks. If it got better, it was a pulled muscle. If not, it was a separated pelvis. After 2 weeks of taking it easy, I still could not roll over in bed, had trouble with sitting, standing, walking, and pretty much doing anything aside from breathing. The final diagnosis: separated pelvis. Being that Baby Boy's head is in the 80th percentile, my pelvis is sure to split fully during a natural delivery. My MD is trying to decide if I should just have a c-section and deal with the recovery of that or should I have a natural delivery and most likely use a walker for a few months after delivery. I have also been going to PT. And wearing a very uncomfy belt that is supposed to get the baby off my pelvis. Oh joy!
Week 28 brought me to my to my oral glucose tolerance test. If you guess that I failed it, DING DING DING! Why would I have passed it? That would have been way too easy. So, Week 29 brought me back to the dr's office to repeat with a 3 hour (results not back yet).
So where in this whole mess does Baby almost make his appearance? That would have been this weekend. Saturday, I was having back pain and stomach pain and I was peeing every 2 seconds. The dr on call was convinced that I just had a muscle strain and sent me home. I knew it was something more serious, but I was not a good advocate for myself. By Sunday nite, I was doubled over in pain and finally called the dr at 10:30. She said to come into the hospital. You know how to know if I am really having an issue? If I go to the car without worrying about shaving, showering, etc, it is serious! The dr on call (the same one I had on Saturday) said it was either A. a muscle sprain (she almost got punched for that one!) or B. my gallbladder. If it was my gallbladder, I would have to have surgery to remove it. When we got to the hospital, they hooked me up to monitors only to discover that I was having contractions 2 minutes apart. I realized I had to pull myself together really quickly because if this baby was going to make his appearance, I didn't want him to come into the world with my being a wreck! They gave me a dose of medication to stop the contractions. It worked, until about 6 am when I started contracting again. Thankfully, they stopped on their own. After some labs and an ultrasound, my OBGYN determined what the culprit was: KIDNEY STONES! Kidney stones stink anyway, but to add the contractions on top of that, I thought I was dying. Seriously.
Needless to say, if I go into labor when the same dr is on call and she tells me I am just having a muscle strain, I will flip out. I felt like the dr and the nurse were not listening to me. But more importantly, I am annoyed with myself for not being an advocate. My gut was telling me there was a problem, but I didn't want to be one of those people who thinks they know better than the dr. I work with some great drs at my hospital, so I think I take it for granted and then end up trusting what every dr says. I kept telling Sam that I felt like n one was actually listening to me. Well, if they were not going to listen to what came out of my mouth, than they sure as heck had to listen to the monitors showing that I was having contractions and I was not a hypochondriac. I will never allow a dr to dismiss my feelings or concerns again. Ever! My body does not belong to just me right now. I have another little person depending on me to do what's right and make sure that I am heard.
Here's to taking bets to see what's next. Is it bad for me to hope that hemorrhoids are the next and last thing I am stricken with? Although with my luck.............
Happy August to all!!!!
Let's start with the week before I became pregnant. It was the day of my sister's surgery in January and I noticed that morning that I was peeing a whole lot more than normal. Within a few hours, I was urinating pure blood. A trip to the Dr., 2 bags of fluid and a dose of rocephin later, my MD sent me to the ER because he started to get a little nervous. Yay for a crazy kidney infection! That, my friends, was the start of what I call The Pregnancy Plague. I should have known what would lie ahead!
At 6 weeks on the nose, I started with morning sickness. Not just any morning sickness. We are talking retching, vomiting, gagging, and, my favorite part, an aversion to liquids. That's right folks. I could not drink ANYTHING without gagging and vomiting. So much for the stay hydrated speeches I got from my dr! That lasted until week 13. I was pulled out of work for 2 weeks so I could rehydrate and take it easy. I was released to my OBGYN who told me that she had never had anyone with a liquid aversion. Yay for me being a freak!
Week 14 was not all that bad! I was feeling good, no more morning sickness, sleeping well, feeling energized. I was thinking, "Let's just forget about the first trimester and take it from here! I can consume liquids! Everything is going to be smooooooooooth sailing!" That was until week 15 hit and I was leaving work one day and felt like I had something in my eye. I went to the bathroom to take a peek only to see that my eye was bright red and had this disgusting gunk all over it. After a trip to the eye dr, I was diagnosed with an ulcerated cornea. Apparently, it is rare, but it does happen to pregnant women who wear contacts. After some eye drops and some days of just glasses as well as 3 eye dr appts, my eye was back to normal.
Then Week 16 hit and so did the migraines as well as a little bit of pain in my pelvis. The migraines were just spiffy! I would be talking to people at work and spontaneously vomit in trash cans. My co-workers were nice enough to let me have a migraine corner where the lites remained off and it was my quiet zone. Those lasted until about week 22. Almost every stinkin day, there was a headache. Accompanied by vomiting. Thanks to the vomiting, I became extremely dehydrated and had to go to the hospital for fluids. Hooray! As for the pelvic pain, I figured it was just round ligament pain and everything just shifting and moving around. Hah! Was I wrong about that!
Week 26, I woke up one Monday morning after working all weekend and was in excruciating pain. Come Tuesday, I felt like I could not move. The culprit was still kind of up in the air. My dr was thinking either separated pelvis or pulled muscle in my groin. The solution: modified bed rest for nearly 2 weeks. If it got better, it was a pulled muscle. If not, it was a separated pelvis. After 2 weeks of taking it easy, I still could not roll over in bed, had trouble with sitting, standing, walking, and pretty much doing anything aside from breathing. The final diagnosis: separated pelvis. Being that Baby Boy's head is in the 80th percentile, my pelvis is sure to split fully during a natural delivery. My MD is trying to decide if I should just have a c-section and deal with the recovery of that or should I have a natural delivery and most likely use a walker for a few months after delivery. I have also been going to PT. And wearing a very uncomfy belt that is supposed to get the baby off my pelvis. Oh joy!
Week 28 brought me to my to my oral glucose tolerance test. If you guess that I failed it, DING DING DING! Why would I have passed it? That would have been way too easy. So, Week 29 brought me back to the dr's office to repeat with a 3 hour (results not back yet).
So where in this whole mess does Baby almost make his appearance? That would have been this weekend. Saturday, I was having back pain and stomach pain and I was peeing every 2 seconds. The dr on call was convinced that I just had a muscle strain and sent me home. I knew it was something more serious, but I was not a good advocate for myself. By Sunday nite, I was doubled over in pain and finally called the dr at 10:30. She said to come into the hospital. You know how to know if I am really having an issue? If I go to the car without worrying about shaving, showering, etc, it is serious! The dr on call (the same one I had on Saturday) said it was either A. a muscle sprain (she almost got punched for that one!) or B. my gallbladder. If it was my gallbladder, I would have to have surgery to remove it. When we got to the hospital, they hooked me up to monitors only to discover that I was having contractions 2 minutes apart. I realized I had to pull myself together really quickly because if this baby was going to make his appearance, I didn't want him to come into the world with my being a wreck! They gave me a dose of medication to stop the contractions. It worked, until about 6 am when I started contracting again. Thankfully, they stopped on their own. After some labs and an ultrasound, my OBGYN determined what the culprit was: KIDNEY STONES! Kidney stones stink anyway, but to add the contractions on top of that, I thought I was dying. Seriously.
Needless to say, if I go into labor when the same dr is on call and she tells me I am just having a muscle strain, I will flip out. I felt like the dr and the nurse were not listening to me. But more importantly, I am annoyed with myself for not being an advocate. My gut was telling me there was a problem, but I didn't want to be one of those people who thinks they know better than the dr. I work with some great drs at my hospital, so I think I take it for granted and then end up trusting what every dr says. I kept telling Sam that I felt like n one was actually listening to me. Well, if they were not going to listen to what came out of my mouth, than they sure as heck had to listen to the monitors showing that I was having contractions and I was not a hypochondriac. I will never allow a dr to dismiss my feelings or concerns again. Ever! My body does not belong to just me right now. I have another little person depending on me to do what's right and make sure that I am heard.
Here's to taking bets to see what's next. Is it bad for me to hope that hemorrhoids are the next and last thing I am stricken with? Although with my luck.............
Happy August to all!!!!
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