Baklava

Jacob and I ran errands this morning.  While he was at the armory, I took a few minutes to walk down to the CSI farmers market.  It turns out that the farmers market is really much more of a flea market and the only fresh produce there was rhubarb.  I wandered around and looked at the homemade wooden chairs, afghans, finger puppets, jams, pies, and even home cooked doggie treats.  Then I discovered this adorable little woman, in Eastern Europe clothing, missing a few teeth, but with a big friendly smile on her face. She was selling homemade Ukrainian Baklava.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to buy one. In case you’re wondering, baklava is an Arabic type pastry the size of a hot pocket, and filled with cinnamon, honey, and nuts.  I took my prize back to the armory and split it with Jake.  He’s had baklava before, while in Iraq.  It was yummy.  It was a little bit dry, but it was also flaky and sweet.  I liked it a lot!

There are lots of different opinions about the CSI refugee program.  I know that the refugees qualify for government welfare, and don’t speak English, and are from countries that are often received with raised eyebrows when mentioned, but I for one am benefitting from it.  I am learning a lot about other cultures because they are here, and that is a good thing.  How else would I ever have gotten to try homemade baklava?  I am certainly not going to Ukraine any time soon. So, if you’re in town and feel like experiencing something a little bit different and new, I would recommend stopping by CSI on a Saturday morning between 9-1.  Who knows what you might find?!

Summer Vacation

Please notice that this is not a "Chapter" post. My life is so full and busy with friends, family, and hobbies that there is much to write about outside of the grief and sorrow that is for Julia. Episodes of sadness and grief are temporarily taking a back seat to life, laughter, and sunshine. I will still have "Chapters" to write about: for example her headstone will be in in a few weeks, and milestones will come and go throughout the next year that I'm sure will be considered "Chapters" in her life, but for now I am tucking her into my heart and it is time for me to live my life.

First of all, I have been very busy working on the front porch of my house. I have a large south facing front porch that gets sunshine all day long. My mom and I have spent many hours perusing flower shops for good deals on pottery and plants. The front porch has been the setting for many wonderful conversations and peaceful moments. It's fun to rock back and forth, sipping lemonade and watching the flowers grow. It is also sheltered somewhat from the rain and I like to take a heavy quilt outside and watch the raindrops pitter patter on the flower petals or curl up with a good book. Because I don't have a garden space this year, I am trying container gardening. It is too early to see the fruit of my labors (literally) but so far the plants seem to be thriving. I have planted two tomato plants, three bell peppers, a box of onions, two cucumbers, and several different herbs.

Many people gave Jacob and I beautiful flower arrangements in memory of Julia. The hanging baskets and geraniums have made a beautiful addition to my porch. We were also given 9 roses which we planted in front of the porch. They are a variety of species and colors and I look forward to some warmer weather when they will bloom. Roses hold a special meaning to Jacob and I because it is my middle name and we often use roses to symbolize our affection for one another. To all of you who donated to this beautiful memorial garden, I thank you!

(Oops! Please tilt your head to see the picture!)

Second, is books! Reading is the best way to spend summer vacation. My sweet friend Crystal lent me more books than I will ever be able to read in a life time I'm sure! Many other friends have stopped by with books and book suggestions and my sister in law and I made a trip to the library the other day where we also stocked up on some summer reading. In the last three weeks I have read:

• Confessions of a Shopaholic by Sophie Kinsella
• The Street Lawyer by John Grisham
• Joy Cometh in the Morning: a Story of Healing from the Loss of a Child by Fran C. Hafen
• Dancing in the Light by Anita Stansfield
• A Dance to Remember by Anita Stansfield
• The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan
  Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosney
• Set in Stone by Linda Newbery

Finally, I've started exercising again. Just like last summer, my friend and I are determined to see improvements. Even if we haven't improved physically, I know this has been great emotional therapy for both of us. We get up and go every morning at 7:30. Hopefully soon we'll be back at the canyon though I need a little more time to prepare before I take on that challenge!

The next weeks are filling up with barbecues, birthday parties, picnics, and bicycle rides. Yea for summer vacation!!!!

Chapter 15: Rain

I sat down to write about the rain, and how it was reflective of my mood today. Rain is usually associated with sadness and tears, country music songs crooning something about tears from angels in heaven and so on. It would have been a perfect comparison. But by the time I got my laptop set up, cozied up in my armchair, and began to type, the rain had stopped. The sun was shining on the puddles, and there were three little birds splashing in the gutter, looking quite happy. In fact, the world looks clean and bright right now; the grasses are green and growing, and the flowers and trees are looking perfectly delighted with themselves. It’s hard to write about rain when the sun is shining.

And come to think on it, that is more reflective of my moods this week than the rain would have been. I have sunny moments and rainy moments. But following right behind every rainy moment is another sunny moment. Each day is a different experience. Although I had two good days in a row this week. I bought and planted lots of flowers on my front porch, talked to good friends, and went out to lunch and had a really nice time. I was so surprised that I almost didn’t believe it when I went to bed last night realizing I hadn’t cried in almost 36 hours. Then this morning came along and one thing after another has set me to tears.

The deal with tears, though, is that I enjoy them. Crying makes me feel better. After every good cry I am strong again, ready to take on the world, at least for a moment. And it’s okay to cry. Like the rain that helps bring life to our desert, tears keep me from becoming dry and numb. Sometimes I become afraid that I am closing my heart, building a barrier to protect myself. That barrier shuts out not only the angry, hurt feelings, but also the people I love and who care about me. It also shuts out Julia. Tears wash away that barrier, opening me up to the knowledge that I am loved and that I will be okay, someday. Sure, that barrier keeps me from being hurt, but it also keeps me from being truly happy.

I can’t believe how blue the sky has become, even in the last half hour, it almost looks like summer. But I can also see another big, black rain cloud building up on the horizon. Well, as short lived as the sunshine will be, its comforting to know that the rain won’t last forever either. . .

Chapter 14: I Buried My Baby

I buried my baby today. It was one of the most heart wrenching steps of this ordeal. She was laid out in a white blessing gown sewn especially for a micro-preemie, and she had a little white head band on her head. Her beautiful little face was at peace. She almost had a smile on her lips. Her hands laid gently to her side. She was beautiful. We sat there, Jake and I, with our mothers on either side of us, in front of a tiny, sweet white casket. The sun was warm, the breeze was gentle, and I felt a beautiful peace in my heart. Still I cried. Alot. I couldn't help myself. My little tiny baby is gone. I know this. I know her soul is in Heaven. And yet, her sweet angelic little face was sleeping so peacefully in front of me and I cried. I didn't cry for Julia. She feels no pain and the life she would have had, even if she had lived, would have never been a life worth living. I cried for myself. I cried for my husband. I cried because I could and because I wanted to. I wanted a baby so badly and the Lord gave me a perfect soul to love forever. But my arms were empty and the casket was full, and life didn't seem fair at that moment. I know the body in that casket was simply a shell, used to house her beautiful spirit while she was here on earth. Her spirit was there, in our hearts, where it will remain forever. Still, no mother should have to bury her children. No father should have to dedicate his child's grave. Jake, by the way, did a perfect job. He is strong and steady, even when I know he doesn't always want to be strong and steady. He is my strength.

After the service we came back to the house where we were loved and hugged by countless numbers of people. I will never again feel alone or unnoticed. I was overwhelmed by the scores of family and friends who came to show their support. Thank you. To have come home to an empty house would have been a burden we could not have borne. But to come home to a house full of love, and some laughter, and warm, comforting embraces, made this day bearable. The Relief Society took care of most of the refreshments and they did a wonderful job. Everyone's contributions were wonderful. Just as there are no words of comfort to offer to Jacob and I at this time except "I love you," there are no words to express my gratitude to my family and friends except "thank you," and "we love you."

It will be time now to find our new "normal" as one friend said today. Tomorrow we will have to come to the realization that there are no more preparations to make, there are no important decisions to occupy our minds. Now we can begin to heal, to move forward with our lives. Julia is a beautiful part of our lives, and we will carry her forward with us, but now we must balance our pain and our grief, with life in the real world. We must tuck her away in our hearts as we pick up our hobbies, return to work (Jacob, not me -- it's summer time for me), continue the yard work, and strengthen ourselves for the next challenge life springs on us. Please continue to include us in your prayers. It is the source of our strength and with your love we will make it.

Chapter 13: A Day at a Time

Everyone copes with loss and death differently. There are no rules to follow or steps to take. I didn't know what to expect of myself or of Jacob. Neither of us have ever experienced anything as powerful as the death of a child and neither of us knew what we would feel or how we would cope. I feel as though I am in a protective bubble, safe from the pain and sorrow that I know I should be feeling. Maybe some people would call it shock, others might call it denial, but to me it feels like strength; the strength to get up and start each day as though it were a regular day, the strength to take care of my aching post-surgery body, the strength to joke and laugh with my husband, the strength to plan a service for my baby girl. I never thought I would have the strength to sit across a table from a mortician and discuss funeral arrangements as though it were an everyday occurrence. Maybe next week, when I no longer need this strength, it will leave me. However, I know that this strength isn't coming from me. This is a powerful gift from my Father in Heaven. It is an answer to the many prayers offered in our behalf. He may have taken little Julia home to be with him, but he has given me the strength to accept His will. He has blessed us with an overwhelming feeling of love from friends and family members, as well as an abundance of love for each other. I have never felt closer to Jake than I have this week. We each stay busy with different activities to keep ourselves distracted, but we always make time for each other. Jacob has taken care of my stitches, he lifts me into the pickup when we travel, he monitors my medications to make sure I take them, and basically spends his time being the best nurse a person could ask for. I am very lucky.

I am also lucky to have the Gospel in my life. I know, not just believe but KNOW, that my little girl is with her Father in Heaven. I also know that she is part of my eternal family forever. Nothing will ever be able to separate us, especially not death. Her death was not good-bye. It was simply a "until we meet again". She was a very special little girl. I wish everyone could have had the chance to meet her and to feel her amazing spirit. I know I am a biased source, but she was too good for this world. I'm proud to be the mother of such a wonderful person and I can not wait to be with her again. She is my pride and joy, despite her short mortal life.

To honor her sweet life, we have planned a graveside service for immediate family only on Wednesday afternoon. We know that many friends would like to come and show their support, but we feel that her service should be as small and simple as her life was. However, we have also planned an open house for later Wednesday afternoon, and it is open to anyone who is interested in coming. It will be from 3:00 to 5:00 at our house. I am not going to post my address on the internet for obvious reasons, however if someone would like to come and does not know where we live, they can call or e-mail myself or any members of our family, who will gladly give you directions. If you can not reach a member of the family please leave a comment with your e-mail address and I will try to get back to you by Wednesday morning.

Chapter 12: Julia, We Love You

Julia Abigail Schwabedissen lived a beautiful life for exactly 60 hours. At 1:45 a.m. Friday 14 May, she went back home to her Heavenly Father.

She was born with a very tiny body and very big problems, but there has never been a little girl more loved. Before she passed away, her father and grandfathers gave her a name and a beautiful blessing with the power of the priesthood.

She was snuggled, cuddled, kissed, and loved on for the last few hours of her life. She peacefully fell asleep in the arms of both her mommy and daddy and surrounded by family members who have gone before her.

She is Daddy's guardian angel and Mommy's best friend. She feels no pain and she is at peace. So are her parents. They know that her life was as perfect as it could be, and they are grateful that she never suffered a day in her life.

Julia Abigail-- my baby-- I love you.

Chapter 11: She's HERE!!

After 16 hours of labor (which Mom didn't feel because of a WONDERFUL invention called an epidural) but being unable to dialate past a 4, Julia Abigail Schwabedissen came into this world via c-section. She was born at 1:45 p.m.

She weighs 3 lbs, 12 oz. She measures 16 inches long.

She currently resides in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit. She is hooked up to a ventilator which helps her breathe, though at last check she needs very little assistance.

She has ticklish feet and long fingers and toes. When tickled she spreads them all wide apart. She enjoys stretching out and kicking her feet. She can be visited by her parents at any hour of the day, though they are both getting ready to sleep for the first time in over 24 hours.

Chapter 10: At the Hospital

Well, we're here at the St. Luke's Labor and Delivery wing. I'm all hooked up to an IV, wearing a very flattering blue hospital gown, a baby heart monitor, a contraction monitor, and basically enjoying the comfort of a night in the hospital. Jake has a nice little bed/couch to sleep on and we are settling in for the night. Today was a long and stressful day and tomorrow will prove to be much more so.

Here are some of the things that were discussed today.

• Since Julia is currently in the birthing position (head down) we are going to try for a vaginal delivery. If my uterus is smarter than it is being given credit for and it can not be tricked into thinking that we are 40 weeks along, then we will eventually give in and do a C-section.
• Tonight they will give me medicine to soften my cervix and tomorrow morning they will break my water and give me pitocin to start labor.
• Julia will be born one way or another. Dr. Lee assured us that he has never had a patient that stayed pregnant forever. Good thing -- we were worried. LOL
• Dr. Chirney, the neurosurgeon, looked at the ultrasounds and believes he can do a shunt operation as early as one day after she is born.
• There are many risks that come with surgery on a baby born so early: infections, tearing of the skin, inability to heal, incorrect growth of the skull bones, subderal hematoma, just to name a few.
• One of the NICU doctors came to visit us. He does not believe that 30 weeks will be too little to survive in the NICU.

Those are the facts. Unfortunately we are still dealing with an uncertain future. Dr. Chirney, the neurosurgeon, believes that she has very little brain matter. He will know more after he does a shunt surgery to relieve the pressure from her brain. Jake and I will have to decide how far we are willing to go to keep her. The doctors do not seem worried about keeping her alive, but they do seem concerned that we may have a baby with no ability to function as a person. So we must ask ourselves the following questions:

• Are we physically capable of caring for a vegetable: someone who may be ten, fifteen, twenty years old and still in diapers, unable to feed herself, dress herself, or recognize her own name?
• Is it morally right to do everything we can to save her, if her life is going to be like that?
• At what point do we say "enough is enough"?
• How do we live with the decisions that we make in the next few weeks?

We were able to discuss this by ourselves for about a half an hour today and the conclusion that we came to is that we are not capable of making that decision alone. We do not know the future, we do not know what is possible. If God gave her this body, if she was born in this day and age with the technology currently available to us, and if she survives through all the ups and downs of her first few months of life, then we must believe that surely she will have a quality of life that is better than is being predicted now. I can not, and will not, believe that Julia will suffer a long and terrible life. I personally believe that with all the things that could go wrong in the next few days, if she does not make it, then she was not meant to make it. I don't think that God would have given her to Jacob and I if He didn't think we would make the best possible choices we could make with the information given to us. So, we will go forward with the first shunt surgery. It will be a temporary shunt, until she is a few months older, then she will be given a permanent shunt. After the temporary shunt we will have to reexamine our thoughts and feelings with the added benefit of having seen exactly how much brain matter she has. I can't say that we'll be able to make a better decision then, but I have to hope. We also have to hope that Dr. Chirney is wrong. If she has more brain matter than he thinks, the outlook could be more positive.

I am no longer saddened by the thought of a baby with mental disorders. I have already mourned the loss of my perfect baby. Now I must face the realities of a non-perfect baby. Physical handicaps can be accommodated- anything from learning sign language, getting a seeing eye dog, or buying an electric wheelchair are all possible adaptations to physical issues. Learning disorders are more complicated because it is impossible to know to what extent they might be. However, I am willing to deal with that too. I am being selfish. I am willing to raise her no matter what her life would be like. Basically, I find myself thinking that I will do anything to not have to let her go. Jake is less selfish than I am. He worries more about her quality of life, and he knows that despite my optimism neither of us are trained care takers. We may not be able to care for her in the ways that she needs. Luckily, we have been sealed in the temple as a family for time and all eternity. So no matter what happens we will be able to raise her, hold her, and really get to know her in the next life, no matter how brief or how limited our abilities here in this life.

I'd better go to bed now. I'll be woken up in about two hours so that they can check on me anyway. I guess I'd better get as much sleep as I can. Tomorrow is going to be a big day!

Chapter 9: Reflections

Since I'm going to be a mom in about two days, I've been doing a lot of reflecting back over the last seven months. I've posted a few pictures here to share while I reflect. None of the pictures show the hydrocephalus. They are only the pictures that are fun to ooh and ahh over.

6 weeks along! It's official! The Idaho Reproductive Clinic told us that we're finally pregnant! We were lucky because we only needed one month of treatments there.

It's time to find out if we're having a boy or a girl! I like this picture because we can see an arm and her face. (I think she has Jake's bone structure.) At 22 weeks, we were right on schedule with our appointments and everything looked fine -- to Jake and I. The doctors noticed the enlarged ventricles and sent us straight up to the specialists in Boise.

This picture is another 22 weeks picture. I call it The Thinker because of the way she is resting her elbow on her knee. Deep thoughts I'm sure.

This picture was taken in Boise around 25 weeks. The doctors told us that she was in breech position, meaning her head was under my ribs and her bottom was pointing downwards. I like this picture because it proves how it was possible to be kicked up under the ribs and down in the pelvic area at the same time. That is her foot beside her nose. She sure is flexible!

These are the latest ultrasound pictures from last Monday. I specifically asked for the picture of the foot because I wanted to know which limb had been repeatedly jamming me in the same exact spot for the entire two hour drive to Boise. If we had been listening to music, I would have assumed she was keeping beat with her foot, the movement was that regular.

And finally, my sister-in-law Sara came down from Montana last weekend to take some maternity pictures. We had a lot of fun trying to stay warm in the crazy weather down in Rock Creek park. Here is the first of the pictures she has sent me.

As we prepare ourselves for what is sure to be the most difficult week of our lives, I wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who has been so supportive the last two months. We have felt very loved. In my last blog, Crystal commented about leaving us messages. (Thanks Crystal) Please do! We will update as often as we can, but I can't promise that will be as often as you would like. We know you care and we want to keep you informed. Don't be offended if you don't hear from us. We'll do our best. In the meantime, please leave us comments if you can. It's amazing how just a few words from a friend can brighten our days!

Happy Mothers Day!!

Chapter 8: A Relief from the Waiting Game

Two weeks have gone by since our last appointment. There has been nothing new in the pregnancy to report during those two weeks. Hydrocephalus is interesting that way, it can be so big and scary, but at the same time the pregnancy evolves as usual, with very little of interest to report. To help us pass the time my sister-in-law Sara and my nephew Zsolt came to stay with us for a few days. That was lots of fun.

Our appointment today was a bit of a relief. The news was still bad, it may never be good, but I'm getting used to that. Now I am just relieved when there is news, because the waiting game has been so hard to bear. Here is what we learned:

• Julia's organs are all looking great; her heart was beating around 160 beats a minute, her kidneys and stomach all appeared to be functioning.
• The technician took a cute picture of her face and foot for us.
• Her head is now about 38 weeks in size. That is 9 weeks bigger than it should be.
• Our next appointment is next Monday, a week from today.
• If she is head down and her head measures 40-41 weeks, the doctor's will induce me so I can deliver vaginally.
• If she is breech or transverse (lying side to side), or if her head is larger than 41 weeks the doctors will schedule me for a C-section on Tuesday morning.
• To increase the size of her lungs, I got a steroid shot, and will get another one tomorrow.
• The pediatric neurosurgeon will look at her the day after she is born, to assess the pros and cons of a shunt operation.

In summary: we are preparing to deliver little Julia Abigail next Tuesday, May 11. She will be 30 weeks and 5 days "old". She will weigh close to 3 lbs. She may or may not undergo brain surgery by next Thursday.

So why am I relieved? Our prayers will be answered one way or another next week. Either she is strong enough to survive this or she is not. Either she will make it or she will not. I have only one more week of being kicked in the bladder, losing my balance, getting stuck in chairs, and not being able to see my knees. (If this pregnancy had gone full-term, I may have discovered what a wimp I am at being pregnant.) I have one more week to treasure every movement and every hiccup. I may only have one more week with my little Julia and I do intend to treasure that time. I've come a long ways in the last seven weeks. From a full on emotional break down, to praying that God would just take her now, to refusing to give her up, to being able to say "Thy will be done," this has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. There are several more loopty-loops up ahead, (and a few completely different roller-coasters to ride) but at least I know there is an end in sight. And that is a huge relief!

As an end note, the scripture from Joshua 1:9 comes to mind. This scripture has been the focus of the Youth Programs at church. "Be strong and of good courage, be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed for the Lord thy God is with thee, whithersoever thou goest."