Monday, April 18, 2016

Not the Best Date, Not the Worst Either

Today I had to go to my doctor for my post-op check up, it's been a week since my surgery. I was terrified. TERRIFIED. I had not been this scared of potential pain since I fell on some asphalt when I was a kid. I knew my dad would be merciless in his endeavor to thoroughly clean my wounded knee, to avoid infection. It was last night I realized there is another level to asking for help that is hard. I wanted someone with me at the appointment and I wanted that person to be my husband. It should be a given that he would be there, I mean, he is the only other person that wants Cysty Spacek gone as much as me. There's the obvious reason he wants her annihilated and the less obvious. The lesser reason being he doesn't handle Jack's terrible two tyranny as well as I do. Maybe I am just more accustomed to the temper tantrums, I do spend all day with him. After lots of intense Jack time, I think John is looking forward to a full day at work! I know my husband has really felt the impact of my absence, even though I have just been downstairs in bed. It's felt at dinner time too. I don't cook amazing meals every day but I at least get dinner on paper plates or unwrapped! It's felt when there is milk to be bought and the cupboards are looking a little bare. I do the grocery shopping, I run all sorts of errands. He has had to work twice as hard since I have been out of commission. 

So I didn't want to ask him to take more time off of work just to hold my hand. I didn't want to press my luck. I didn't want him to feel guilty if he had to say no. I tried to tell him I would be fine. It wasn't working. I knew driving would be painful. I knew Jack wouldn't want to be in a stroller inside an office. But I just couldn't bring myself to ask for help. As I was trying to relax (very unsuccessfully) and watch TV last night, it hit me. I need to say the words and speak what I want and need. I burst into tears, again, and said, "Will you please come with me?!" John looked confused and replied, "Uh, I thought I said I would." He had. But I felt this urge to actually say the words, actually ask for myself. I was being passive aggressive, something we both hate. I wasn't meaning to be, I just didn't want to ask anymore of my husband than I already had. I felt like a wimp. Did I really need him to be there to hold my hand? You bet your sweet bippy I needed him to hold my hand! 

Today, I got up and read my Jesus is Calling book. (Calm down Mom, I read it more often than you think.) The first line of today's message said, "Peace is my continual gift to you." It hit me in the gut. I pray for peace all the time, hello, I have a toddler! I sometimes think when we are asking God for help or peace or grace, we reflect on how often we don't pray and then we worry God will deny us the peace we are seeking because we don't pay enough attention to Him. Uh nope. That's not how it works. 

He says in Hebrews 4:16 (I didn't look it up, it was on the page.) 
Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

He purposely gives us peace and grace when we ask for it, instead of a constant stream of it, or we would become self-sufficient and not come to Him! I know right, mind blown. 

(Uh Jessica, your subconscious mind here. Just want to let you know that you just quoted scripture and have mentioned God a few times. You are running the risk of turning people away and possibly losing friends.) ~~~~ Yup, I understand. Thanks for clearing that up. I kind of feel like it's not worth worrying about your observation right now. If anyone reading this doesn't feel it's the right view for them, that's totally cool. I'm just feeling really good about the personal growth I have been experiencing these past few weeks. I'm digging what Jesus is laying down for me and there's no reason to be weird about sharing it! Am I going to start quoting scripture all the time? Nope. Not my style. Am I going to start telling people how they should be dealing with their own problems.? Nuh uh, that sounds like a bad idea. Will I be open and honest with anyone that wants that wants to talk to me about anything I have written? Duh, of course I will! 

So, if you are still with me, I will finish up with good news. My appointment went very well! I didn't experience any pain because the doctor didn't need to poke or prod or pinch or do anything to see I am healing nicely! Whew! What a relief! I'm so glad I didn't have to break John's hand while he held mine! If I knew it was going to go that well, my rational brain says John didn't need to be there. But my heart says he did. I needed to be a big girl and ask for help. I am glad I did. 

The longer I have been married, the more I realize it's easy to see how much we actually stop needing our spouse for support unless it's something big, something traumatic. We rely on each other to carry the load of every day tasks, like trash, laundry, groceries, dinner, diaper changes, homework, cleaning. We know we can do all those things on our own but it sure does make life easier with someone by your side helping of course! My thought is that I should be doing all the day to day stuff to bless my family, not just because it needs to be done. Today I needed my husband to be my friend, to hold my hand, and to shut out the rest of the world. He did that. He kept me calm. He made me laugh. He always knows how to make me laugh when I need it the most. (Side note, our friend, Julie, offered to watch Jack while we went to the appointment. That took a lot of stress off my shoulders and allowed John to focus on supporting me. The bonus, we found out when we went to get Jack? He slept while we were gone! Dude, that just doesn't happen! He loves playing at Julie's! I was so relieved she didn't have to put up with his crankiness!) It was almost a date with my husband, almost. Not how I like to romance my hubby. I prefer to avoid a paper sheet across my nether region with another woman talking about my hoo-ha to get us in the mood to play kissie face. We did, however, get to each lunch together without a kids menu and crayons being pushed off the table. Oh and I felt closer to my man after all of it, so yeah, it was a great date indeed! 
We sat next to each other like dorks because we could.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Cysty Spacek's Demise

I'm not one for getting too personal on Facebook. I try to keep my posts light hearted, fun, loaded with pictures, and occasionally informative. I don't intend on changing my routine. I have been through something pretty intense this week and I felt that maybe if I shared it, it might help someone out if they feel alone in something they are going through. I really don't want to post this just for attention. That's not my style. (I feel like I have said this before. Sorry.)

On Monday the 11th, I had surgery to remove my left Bartholin gland. It's been giving me trouble the last three years. Many trips to my doctor and one trip to the E.R. while I was pregnant with Jack. A cyst developed a while ago and it was time to have it exorcised. In the midst of the swelling and pain, I texted a few friends and asked for name suggestions for the nasty beast that was making my life quite miserable. I thought humor might make the problem seem smaller. My friend, Robin, never fails to make me laugh with a sense of humor that is so clever and always leaves me in stitches. No pun intended. So, henceforth, the fiery development growing inside me was aptly named Cysty Spacek. I won't gross you out with details. Just know, this b*tch has caused a lot of havoc and even led me to endure THE MOST PAINFUL PHYSICAL EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. Not exaggerating.

Um, I don't actually want to say this but I think it would be best to mention what a Bartholin gland is, to save your eyes if you decided to Google it. Women have these glands in their vagina. These glands produce lubrication during sex. There, I said it. We're all adults right, we can handle what I just explained? 

Here I am, day six of recovering and still in a fair amount of pain and lots of discomfort. (Two sets of stitches, one way inside and one in a most unpleasant place.) My husband has been very helpful and very patient. (I can't sit normally or stand for too long.) I have received phone calls and texts asking how I am and wonderful get well wishes. That has meant so much to me! My neighbor, Brandi, took Rylee to the park and it helped me by having one less kid to take care of for an hour. I even received a basket of Ghirardelli goodies delivered to my door from Mindy! Then, last night, Julie brought me See's candy and Sour Cream & Onion Pringles. It sure does feel good to be cared about!

I realized something about myself today. I never want to be thought of as lazy. I love to lounge and chill in my jammies, just not for the amount of time I have been this week. I love lazy Saturdays but not when the weather is gorgeous and I could be walking at the arboretum or the zoo or anywhere! I don't like feeling lazy when I am really just trying to get well again. My body needs to heal but I feel guilty for laying down when I could be getting groceries or making dinner or creating some art! I think, as women, we have pressure put on us by society to always be on. We know we're strong, so we always have to prove it. We also put pressure on ourselves and forget to cut ourselves some slack. I have been trying to give myself a mental break all week and it hasn't been working. I realized today that part of my struggle has been feeling really alone during Cysty Spacek's reign of terror. I don't know anyone that has experienced this torture. I know there are other women out there that have dealt with this problem but I don't know any of them. So I started telling myself I was whining about my pain just because no one else could moan with me. Isn't that how it goes with any of the junk we deal with in our lives? We feel isolated and think we must be crazy for feeling that way, since we don't hear anyone else complaining? Of course I like to add guilt on top of my misery. Like, "C'mon Jessica, don't be such a baby! There are far worse things people deal with every single day. At least you can go to a doctor for help! What about the families with no health care? What about the people starving and their kids?!" Before I know it, I'm pushing myself to move when I shouldn't because I feel guilty about not helping anyone else. I'm not trying to paint myself as some sort of amazing person here for worrying about others. I'm hoping that what I am sharing resonates with you, so you don't feel alone. 

Hi, my name is Jessica, and my toddler ate at least two boxes, possibly three, of fruit snacks this week, all while the TV was on and his iPad was on too. Yes, he had fruits and vegetables, in the form of squeezy food pouches he should have outgrown by now but since he's extremely picky about food, I have to get him nourishment somehow. He also enjoyed dry Honeycomb cereal for the first time because I didn't have the energy to say no. I don't even know what my nine year old daughter has been up to (besides playing Minecraft) because she is capable of making her own food. I have been relieved when she only wanted cereal for dinner. 

I know I will recover, it might actually take weeks from what I've been reading, but I will recover. I am getting better about asking for help and letting people do nice things for me. I feel guilty about that too. I don't know if this whole mess is just so I can learn how to let go of control. I never thought I had a problem with always needing to be in control, until now. If that's the case, I will definitely work on it because I really don't like being in a position where I am worried my cause of death will be from sneezing. Good grief, this is not the time to have allergies!