Labor day makes me cry

I realize that lately my posts have been really personal, and I don't blame anyone who would maybe prefer to not read my blog and all of my emotional ramblings. Still, writing is a good way for me to sort through my feelings, and this post is especially one of those. So... you've been warned and if you just want to close the window and move on to the next blog, that's fine. 

Don't get me wrong.  Eliza has been a really good baby and, being two weeks old, has only had a few "bad" nights.  I just wish that I would sleep soundly. I wake up worrying why she isn't awake. I am crazy, I know.  Last night, however, was one of her "bad" nights. Not that it was bad per se, she wasn't fussy at all. She was just wide awake from 2:00 until 5:00. Right after she drifted to sleep, the dog was crying to get out. I tried to ignore her, but really? Have you ever tried to ignore a crying dog? A yappy one no less? Annoying. So I let Kitty out sometime before 5:30. I remember looking at the clock around that time and then must have fallen asleep until 6:30 when the kids woke up. Uh! I am so tired today. 

And (as I am so good at doing) I digress. My point was to say that in the late night hours and early morning hours when I am being crazy and awake or whether I am awake with Eliza, I have quiet time to think. Because I saw this picture of Josh for the first time in months yesterday, I was thinking about how much has changed since this picture was taken on Labor Day. 

(I had to scan it in, but love this picture because it just looks like Josh. Not just physically, but just the feel of the picture is Josh to me. The smile on his face and the way he is sitting relaxed and happy-- it emanates his personality.)

As I was thinking, I just couldn't help but cry. Part of me has faith that everything will be alright, part of me is scared, and part of me just wishes that things would go back to the way they were on Labor Day when this picture was taken. 

So, all day, I have been thinking and wishing we could go back in time and feeling guilty for feeling that way. We have so much to be thankful for. I know that. I know that we have been blessed with more than we will ever be able to repay or adequately express gratitude. Still, I just couldn't stop looking at this picture. Every time, I tear up and all those feelings come rushing back.  Indulge me, if you will, and read the lyrics to this song by Hillary Weeks. (I tried to find a link to the music, but couldn't find a free download, and I am not tech-savvy enough to download it from my own CD.) 

I believe that everything happens for a reason

We're not just tossed by the wind or left in the hands of fate

But sometimes life sends a storm that's unexpected

And we're forced to face our deepest pain

When I feel the heartache begin to pull me under 

I dig my heels in deep and I fight to keep my ground

Still at times the hurt inside grows stronger

And there's nothing I can do but let it out

Just let me cry

I know it's hard to see

But the pain I feel

Isn't going away today

Just let me cry

Till every tear has fallen

Don't ask when and don't ask why

Just let me cry

When I agreed that God could put this heart inside me

I understood that there would be a chance that it would break

But I know He knows exactly how I'm feeling 

And I know in time He'll the pain away

But for now

Just let me cry

I know it's hard to see

But the pain I feel

Isn't going away today

Just let me cry

Till every tear has fallen

Don't ask when and don't ask why

Just let me cry

I have felt joy the kind that makes my heart want to sing

And so my tears are not a surrender

I'll feel that way again 

But for now

For this moment

Just let me cry

I know it's hard to see

But the pain I feel

Isn't going away today

Just let me cry

Till every tear has fallen

Don't ask when and don't ask why

Just let me cry

I believe that everything happens for a reason

A new one to love

I can't believe that Eliza is 12 days old and I am just barely blogging about her! I also know that so many of you have already seen a lot of the pictures that I have of her from the hospital, so I tried to pick some that were different. Feel free to skip over my ramblings and just look at the pictures of my oh-so-cute kids!

Eliza was born on Saturday, May 8 at 9:00 on the dot. As I am sure every mom feels when they see their baby for the first time, I was so overwhelmed with love and gratitude for her that I felt like she and I were the only two in the room. Anyone who has had a c-section knows how awkward it is being strapped to the table and trying to get a good look at your baby from across the room. It is kind of frustrating that you can't really hold your baby because you are being put back together, but like I said it felt for a few moments that she and I were the only ones in the room. I know there were nurses taking care of her, but I can't really remember even seeing them. Dr. Williams asked what we were naming her, and I was so happy to tell him Eliza Christine. Eliza, as you know is after Eliza R Snow, and means an oath, covenant or gift of God. Christine, is after my Grandpa Mac's mother Emma Christine, and means bearer or disciple of Christ. 

(Each of our kids have a family name and a name that is significant to the Church. We wanted their names to mean something and to be after people whom they could look up to and hopefully pattern their lives after. The boys names are: Joshua Kimball, John McKay, and Benson Mac)

Anyone who has ever tried to take pictures of my boys, know that this picture is typical. It is so hard to get them to look at the camera, hold still, and give you a decent smile. They were so excited to come see their baby sissy, and my mom got them these cute "Big Brother" hats. They were chewing on little pink bubble gum "cigars." Although, my mom didn't tell them they were cigars, (they wouldn't even know what that was anyway) she told them that when babies are born, people chew bubble gum!!! Haha! They were cute and loved their little treat from Grammy.

Eliza has been such a good baby and even though I have had a few bad nights here and there, I can't complain because she is such a sweet, sweet baby. When I hold her up to my chest she snuggles right into the same little spot on either side of my face and it melts my heart. I am so thankful for our little baby girl and so thankful for the bond that she and I already share. 

Honestly, I was upset about the timing of everything. I was excited to have a baby but upset that she couldn't come three months ago or in three months. Just so that he birth wouldn't be surrounded by all this cancer business and so that I wouldn't be trying to recover from a c-section at the same time Josh was receiving treatment. It is so hard to feel like I want to be in Salt Lake with Josh, but I want to be at home taking care of my kids, and because I have to have a c-section I can't really do either. 

I worried that because I was so frustrated about the timing of everything that some of that frustration (as bad as it sounds) would interfere with building a relationship with her. Of course, it hasn't. I just worried that it would. She is such a little angel and so sweet and tiny. I feel like we already knew each other and that her birth, in the middle of everything is a blessing and not a burden. It has felt like it is taking me a little bit longer to feel whole and well again this time, but every day is better and every day is a reminder of how blessed we are.  I may not ever understand why everything feels like it is happening all at the same time, but one thing is certain: My baby Eliza is here. She is a gift, she is a comfort to my aching heart, and a constant reminder to us of the Divine and His eternal plan. 

I want to remember...

    People are so good and nice to ask how we are doing, and the truth is that it Josh is doing great. Side effects haven't really kicked in yet, and he is still just as positive as ever. I keep asking him how he is doing, and he just says, "Great!"
    Me? Well, I am the emotional roller-coaster that is what you would expect of a pregnant woman. Not only that, but I am sensitive and kind of emotional anyway. (Hahaha. I say that, and I can only imagine what some of you are probably thinking, "Yup, you can say that again," or "Ya, you're emotional." Chances are, if you know me at all, you have seen or experienced or heard about it.)  It's true. I wear my emotions on my sleeve.
    With everything that has been going on, I have tried VERY hard to stay in control. I pray for the strength I need to keep it together because I don't want my kids to think that I am going crazy. I see how concerned they are when I do cry, and the worry on their faces makes me panic. But, I am still a wide range of emotions at any point throughout the day. Sometimes I am numb. Sometimes I am fine, I am at peace and alright. Sometimes I am scared, worried, stressed, mad, etc.
    Most importantly, sometimes I have these moments that I recognize as tender mercies from the Lord. Moments when I can literally feel my Heavenly Father's love for us. His concern for our situation and His desire to let us know that He is there for us. That is why I am posting this. I wanted to be able to come back myself and re-read this. I don't want to forget it. I don't want to forget the feeling.
    So, the background: We went to my parent's stake conference on Sunday because we knew my dad was going to be released as stake president. (Weird that the weekend he was called was the weekend Josh and I met-- nine years ago). Anyway, we wanted to be there to support him. Turns out that we totally benefited from being there, hearing the testimonies born, and listening to the talks given by the general authorities assigned to re-organize the stake. Mostly, I was given a completely new perspective on the opening hymn. It set the mood for the following two hours. Guess I never really paid attention to the lyrics. Funny how there are moments in our lives when we hear something that we have known and heard dozens, maybe even hundreds of times but for some reason, at the very moment you need it... you get it. The light turns on and you see (or hear) for the first time the message that is meant to come across. Or, I guess maybe it's just the message you need at that point. This must have been what we needed. The words were so strong, so poignant, so completely and directly speaking to us.

How Firm a Foundation

How firm a foundation, ye Saints of the Lord. 

Is laid for your faith in his excellent word!

What more can he say than to you he hath said,

Who unto the Savior, who unto the Savior, 

Who unto the Savior for refuge have fled?

In every condition-- in sickness, in health,

In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth,

At home or abroad on the land or the sea--

As thy days may demand, as thy days may demand,

As thy days may demand, so thy succor shall be.

Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,

For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.

I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand--

Upheld by my righteous, upheld by my righteous,

Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand. 

And the race is on

This morning was crazy. McKay and I both participated in "races." McKay's preschool teachers put on a charity race where they let the kids run laps for charity. McKay was so excited about it and he took off running as fast as he could at the end, a friend and VTV owner was asking him questions about the race and he said something like, "I was running super fast and now I am out of breath!" What a cute kid. He was running fast too! He was excited to be able to put money in the bottles for the two charities they were supporting and then wanted to call and tell Papa and Grammy all about it.

I, however, walked (or more like waddled) a 5K race this morning in Memory of Josh (Graham) and in Honor of Josh (Baumgarten). When I found out that my sweet friend Toni was planning on wearing a t-shirt for both her Josh (who lost his battle with cancer last July) and my Josh (who was just diagnosed with cancer), I couldn't help but want to participate. 

       Keep in mind... I am having this baby next Saturday! When I woke up this morning I thought I must  be crazy, but I really wanted to do it for Toni, myself and each of our Josh's. I sincerely believed I would have to turn around and waddle my way shamefully back before I got to the turn around point, but I didn't. I did the whole thing. Even if I was at the end. (But not the VERY end) I didn't care though. The last few minutes, Toni came to find me (I am telling you... I was waddling) and walked with me and my sweet, loyal friends (who stayed with me the whole time) the rest of the way. 

 

Toni and I

These last pictures are of us coming in and I promise there were a few behind us (hahaha, but not many),  Colette and I, and all of "Team Josh"
    I am grateful that I did this, that I had the chance to think about Josh and Toni and their faith and example and for the way their experience has helped my Josh and me. For all the people who have gathered around and rallied to support us. And, for my sweet friends who are constant and steady and always there for me. I love you guys!

Update...barely

I know that a post is long overdue. It is just that every time I get started I have to stop because all of the emotion that I can safely tuck away comes flooding to the surface. There is so much that I can write to just get out of my system, but I am afraid to let it out. I am afraid that I won't be able to keep it together to function as a wife and mother or to just be able to make it from one minute to the next.
That being said, we did go to Salt Lake last week for appointments. Marathon appointments is what they should call them. They line up several people to talk to you and you end up being there for hours. Tuesday was long. Wednesday was longer. In a nutshell, they all wanted to make sure that we understood the diagnosis (glioblastoma multiforme) and what to expect. Treatment starts this Wednesday, April 28. Thirty days of radiation and chemo followed by a year of cycled chemo treatments and regular MRIs to watch the tumor.
There was a lot of information, a lot to absorb, and in the end we realize that it doesn't really matter what  experiences other patients have had. Yes, their diagnosis might be the same, but the Lord's plan for them is not.
Josh (who of course has much more faith than I) told me that he decided on the night we found out he had a brain tumor (before we knew it was cancer) that he had to put is full faith in the Lord. He decided to have faith that if it was the Lord's will to sustain his life, then it would be sustained.
He told me that was all that mattered and that it was our job to open our eyes to the big picture, to maintain an eternal perspective. We have to take comfort and hope in the fact that the Lord is in charge and is capable of making miracles happen.
So, then in the middle of the night when he tells me that his arm, leg, and face are numb I have to remind myself that overall, Josh isn't scared. I have to remind myself that everything will be ok. I have to turn my thoughts to the outpouring of love and support that we have been shown. I have to immediately say a prayer of gratitude for the goodness inside everyone around us. So many people who have made miracles happen. People who have given time, talents, resources, hearts and minds in our behalf.  So much to be thankful for. So much to make me realize that I don't have the luxury of dwelling in the flood of fear. There are evidences all around us, through all of you, that the Lord is aware of us and of our needs. He sends those around us to share their love, to wrap their arms around us and remind us (or me) to put our faith in God.
So again, thank you for everything that is being done and for the constant reminder, which I have sincerely needed.

So much...

I don't really have a lot to post, because we don't really have any new information. I simply have to take the opportunity to thank so many people again. Family members, dear friends, ward members and strangers alike. So many people have and continue to reach out to us during this challenge. There are moments when I have to take a deep breath and dig for the comfort and support that I have felt from all those praying for us, loving us, supporting us and helping us to bear our burden. I just keep thinking about how we have been told that it is often through the hands of another that Lord's work is done. My prayers are frequent and vary in nature, but always include expressions of gratitude for all of you. Please know how much we recognize and appreciate all that is being done for us.

Couldn't you just break your neck?

So, here goes. It might be long.
I am not even sure I will actually publish this. Maybe I will just type it out and forget it.  I haven't been able to sit down and actually get it out. It's too hard. Too real. Too close to the surface to actually tell it publicly or semi-publicly since this blog is private. While I am almost 34 weeks pregnant and would probably never like a picture of myself, I love this picture of Josh. (Thanks Mindy, for being so generous and flexible with your time and for taking these pictures).

Many of you probably already know the situation, but in case you don't, or in case you've heard it from someone two or three or eight people down the line... here it is.
Because of a snowmobile accident in December, we assumed the symptoms Josh began experiencing in January were a result of injury. I still remember giggling to myself when Josh came home from a church basketball game complaining that his "game" was off.  Seriously? If I had only known.
The fine motor function in the right side of his body continued to decline beginning in his hand and arm and progressing to his leg and foot. When he finally decided that it wasn't all "in his head" he made an appointment with a chiropractor who eventually referred him to another doctor.
After considering all the possibilities and researching online, we were convinced that he may have a C6 spinal fracture. Honestly, the website that Josh found was like a checklist for all his symptoms. Without mentioning his oh-so-intelligent internet findings to the doctor, the doctor came up with the same conclusion.
I was relieved. I honestly thought to myself, "Phew, he just broke his neck." I was horrified by the other alternatives. And a broken neck was something that could be fixed. A little surgery, a few screws to keep his head on his shoulders. NO BIG DEAL. Totally acceptable problem. (Ok, so I am not trying to minimize a spinal fracture. I am simply saying that compared to the other alternatives it was something I could handle.)
The initial MRI of his neck showed that his neck was great. No breaks. No fractures. No pinched nerves. Hmph! We were wrong and so it was time to do some more looking. The doctor ordered another MRI of his brain to just make sure there wasn't anything neurological.
After the MRI Josh made his way to work when he got a phone call to turn around and go right back to the hospital. The doctors wanted to talk to him. He couldn't get a hold of me and then realized he couldn't tell me he had to go back to the hospital. Somewhere in the process he texted me that it might be a stroke. My sweet, always-there-for-you dad met him at the hospital to find out it wasn't that either.
My sweet, always-there-for-you mom and sister met me at my house. Shortly after, my dad and Josh made it home. Josh hesitated and then told me that it was a tumor, but the nature was unknown so we would need to go see a neurosurgeon in Salt Lake. Our appointment was Monday morning. It was only Friday (March 26). We would have to wait all weekend long. All the agonizing weekend long. Too much time to think about the possibilities. Too many sleepless hours to just think and wonder and try to prepare for whatever the outcome might be.
We went to the temple. We found peace. We knew that whatever would happen would be the Lord's will and that He would make it alright.
Monday's first appointment was discouraging. I am pretty sure that if I ever see that doctor again, I might   slip and while I am falling, my fist might find it's way into his nose.  The one good thing was that he referred us to Dr. Randy Jensen at the Huntsman Center.  It was a miracle that we were able to see Dr. Jensen, as it was his day off and out-of-clinic. A tender mercy.
Dr. Jensen was a lot more optimistic and scheduled another MRI for Thursday (April 1) and surgery Friday (April 2).  The MRI included a processes called mapping. They basically make a picture of the brain that is so incredibly accurate that the doctor knows EXACTLY what the brain will look like before  they even make an incision.  The mapping is then used throughout the surgery with electronic nodes that send signals from the brain to extremities and vice versa. That way, damage is minimized if not completely eliminated.
Using this process, they were able to learn that the tumor was deeply integrated into the brain tissue and were only able to extract a small portion of the tumor. It's purpose would serve as a sample for the pathologist. While they were able to come up with preliminary results, Dr. Jensen assured us that we should not be overly anxious and should wait for the final results. More waiting. This time from Friday (April 1st) to Wednesday (April 7).  This time Josh would be trying to recover and heal from surgery.
He received TLC from the Neuro Critical Care Unit and physical therapy and then from the Neuro Acute Care Unit.
Determined and strong, my sweetheart stayed positive, in good humor, and close to the Lord. Surprisingly enough, they decided to discharge him Sunday morning. Easter morning. They said he was doing so well there was no use waiting for test results in a hospital bed. The rest of his recovery could be done at home! We missed our boys. We were glad to come home. Glad to see them and get our loves and kisses from each of them. (Even if Aunt Emily is more fun than Mom or Dad).
Wednesday was the day the pathologist would have the final results. The tumor board would meet to discuss the results and best course of action. We hoped we wouldn't have to wait any longer to hear.
The initial tests were confirmed. Cancer. Aggressive cancer. Silver lining? It is brain cancer, which means it is isolated to the brain and didn't originate from another source. Still, it is a high-grade, aggressive cancer that has to be treated right away.
I knew it. Somehow I knew it. I keep thinking about how I wish he could have just broken his neck. How it would be so much easier to deal with, it seems like such a more simple fix. Easier than cancer. Easier than facing what I have feared most. Easier than trying to be brave and happy when I really just want to wake up and everything will be back to normal.
So, taking it one step at a time, we had to wait again to hear from the oncologist that would be over radiation treatments. Fortunately, they called Thursday morning. Unfortunately, our first meeting/consultation won't be until he returns from vacation.
SOOO... until April 21st we are on hold. At least Josh has some time to heal from surgery and we have time to spend with the boys. There, I did it. I got it out.
Now seems like a good time to mention that we have been incredibly humbled and overwhelmed by the love and support of the angels that literally live among us. So many phone calls, kind gestures, prayers, acts of service... every time we turn around there is someone waiting to show us their support. Tender mercies. Answers to prayers. Those who are willing to "lift up the hands which hang down" (See D&C 81:5, one of my favorites) It is more than humbling to be on the receiving end of so much LOVE. Josh keeps reminding me that this is what people are like. This is their nature. People are good, and kind and loving and want to help where they can. How can we ever express our appreciation and gratitude to so much support? We know what we can do will never be enough. We can only pray that the tender mercies we have been shown will be there someday down the road for each one of the angels who surround us everyday. We pray that we can be the ones who "lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees." In the meantime, thank you. Thank you for recognizing what a good man Josh is. Thank you for recognizing his testimony, his strength, loyalty, work ethic, faith and so much more.