Typo...

I knew that posting late at night would eventually lead to a typo here or there. I had to change a couple of sentences because when I went back and read them tonight, I realized that typos and the whole start and stop to feed the baby thing made some sentences say something totally different than what I meant. I had to edit the last paragraph to say, "I am touched if you read the entire list..." Oops.

The List

This post is titled "The List" for my most assured future reference. There isn't really anything huge or even really note-worthy (to anyone but myself) to blog about. I just really wanted to blog about some of the things that I am so very grateful for. Some simple yet incredibly amazing things that I have been contemplating over the last several days:

• The fact that my husband is alive and doing well. Six months ago the neurological surgeon confirmed what initial pathology reports had indicated. Josh had glioblastoma multi-forme. Brain cancer in its most aggressive, grade IV form. Without treatment, he would live only three to six months. Thank you Heavenly Father for blessing people with the intelligence that they needed to develop treatments to battle such a disease. Thank you for sparing my husband's life, and in turn mine.
• My sweet, impulsive, tender-hearted Kimball. He wants to please me and even though it is so very hard for him to stay focused and on-task at times, he tries very hard to do what is asked. He wants to help his brothers choose the right and he wants to make sure they are safe and happy. He is growing up so fast and is so smart and self motivated. So funny! He says the greatest things at the greatest times. This week he was worried about McKay staying home from school because he would might get a bad credit card! Ha! (report card-- in case that wasn't obvious)
• McKay can light up the room with his smile, and his contagious laugh is irresistible. He is eager to learn new things and always prays that he will be able to make the right choices. He is sensitive to the spirit and recognizes that Heavenly Father hears and answers him. He is the tease in our family and loves to spend time playing with his brothers. He always has a love and a kiss for me just when I need it. McKay is funny too. His comments are further and fewer in between, but they are just as funny and memorable. Last night at dinner he told Kimball that ketchup was good for us because it was made from a fruit called potatoes and that it had lots of allergies in it! Teehee.
• My baby boy Benson will always be my baby boy. Even though he is growing up so fast, I can still see the baby I knew needed to come to our family at the time he did. He is quick to say he is sorry when he knows he has done something wrong, and is diligent at reminding me that he loves me "too".  He seems to have a bond with Eliza that is unique and is anxiously concerned about her well-being. Once again, funny little boy. He must get it from his brothers. He can always make me smile. Like when we went to the doctor yesterday and he told me how excited he was to see Dr. Augward (Woodward) as soon as he was done working on the computer next door! Oh the randomness! 
• Eliza--my baby. She is as her name states, a fulfilled promise from God. She seems to be able to heal my aching heart by smiling at me. She smells so good and when I hold and snuggle her I don't want to put her down. (Probably the reason why she isn't quite rolling over consistently yet.) She is a good baby, and while we are still struggling with night-time, she is such a joy and I couldn't ask for a better baby. If only I could slow time down. It goes by in a blink. 
• Family. Good, loyal, loving family. The ones I depend upon so heavily and who share and help ease our burdens. The ones to "fill the chairs" (as Elder Maxwell described our life awaiting us beyond the veil). 
• The promise fulfilled that I would be surrounded by good friends who would strengthen and build me up. The following quote was posted on Facebook by one of these dear friends and applies to my husband and many others... both family and friends: "Throughout life you will meet one person who is unlike any other. You can talk to this person for hours and never get bored, you can tell them anything and they won't judge you, and you will never have to wonder if they'll be there for you. This person is your soulmate, your best friend. Don't ever let them go."-Unknown
• The chance to meet someone who really upset me but gave me the chance to reflect on what I have and realize that I never want to be the one passing such a harsh judgment on someone when I don't know the scope of their circumstance. I hope that doesn't sound pious. I really am grateful for that night when I had the chance to reflect and realize what pain simple words can cause. 
• The chance to meet two women since the first (whom I just described) who showed me charity and Christlike love when they knew nothing of me or of my circumstance. They each in their own way inspired me to be better and to try harder to reach out to others.
• Music. Healing lyrics and melodies. 
• Memories. Good and bad. The ones that have shaped and molded my life into what it is today. Whether that be for better or for worse, I am thankful for my life's experiences. 
• The gospel in its entirety. The temple, the scriptures, the living prophet, prayers, the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

I am touched if you read through the entire list. I also applaud you if you did. You must be a diligent reader. I guess I say that mostly because this post is probably boring to someone else. I just really felt the need to get it out. Maybe its because I haven't been gracious enough. I hope not. I hope that to anyone who knows our family knows that we are truly, sincerely, grateful. Maybe it's because most recently I have felt a heavy burden lighten from my shoulders. Maybe it's because I will need to reflect back on this in the weeks or the months to come when the weight may feel heavier. Whatever the reason, I am convinced it is not trivial.  The thought has been filling my mind day after day and in the most incongruous times. Little things seem greater. Life seems happier. 

Did I actually want this?

I am only willing to post this emotional vomit in good faith that maybe among the 100 plus readers of this "private" blog there will be someone who at some point has felt similar to the way I felt this evening. The way I have felt on several occasions, but on very different levels. It's the way I feel when I walk into my house and realize that it doesn't really matter that I cleaned my house yesterday--  today it all has to be redone because actual people live here. Little boys live here. I live here with my five-month-old baby, who happens to take only short naps and rarely allows me to stick with one activity for more than 15-20 minutes at a time, making my efficiency rate at about a D-.
Well, sorry about that. Actually, not really. I told you in the first few words this was going to be emotional vomit. I meant it.
So, tonight I was sitting amongst a pile of laundry that I was in the process of folding for the second time. During the first go round I noticed that there were some items that didn't look clean. I started the "sniff test" and to my dismay, some of them smelled like wet, dirty puppy dog. (Translation for those of you who may not have boys: they smelled like dirty little boys.) I was annoyed because I realized that in their effort to help, they put dirty clothes in a laundry basket full of clean clothes that had been sitting in the laundry room for a couple of days. (Remember my rate of efficiency?) And yet, this isn't the point. I merely want to point out that I had folded dirty clothes and neatly placed them in the piles with the clean clothes and so I had to re-wash, re-dry, re-fold another load of laundry. Anyone who remotely knows me understands that this alone would be enough for me to gripe and complain by means of blogger. Still, it is not. It just contributed to my mood.
Back to the part where I was sitting amongst all that laundry. I was feeding Eliza, which I had literally done only an hour prior, but there I sat nursing her again, putting the laundry on hold to do so.  The door bell rang repeatedly like someone wasn't even letting their finger completely release the bell before pressing it again. It was like, "dindindindindingdong" I, for three very obvious reasons, assumed it was one of my three little boys. I was annoyed and went to answer it only to see a woman standing at my door. I no more than opened the door enough to see it was a woman than she barked at me, "YOU'RE SON JUST THREW A ROCK AT MY CAR!!!"
Of course, I was immediately furious at one of my two oldest boys, knowing it couldn't be Benson since he was sitting next to me when said woman came beating on our doorbell. I walked to the back yard and asked which one was throwing rocks. Kimball said it wasn't him, that he had been jumping on the trampoline. I knew he was telling the truth because McKay looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. I grabbed him by the arm and marched him to the front porch to talk to try to make amends.
By this point Eliza was screaming because I had put her down in the middle of her meal, and Benson came to the door to see who was there. The woman said, "Well it looks and sounds like you've got your hands full. You've got one in the back yard on the tramp too, right?" I furrowed my brow and she said, "I tried to get your little boy to come with me to talk to you and he ran through the garage. I peeked into your backyard and saw your other little boy jumping on the tramp."
Nosey woman.
She then proceeded to tell me that she watched McKay standing by our mailbox and as she got closer he got ready to throw a rock at her car right as she drove by. She apparently pulled over immediately and either spoke to McKay and he started running or else he just started running when he realized he was going to be tattled on. Either way, she said that he didn't hit the car but that he shouldn't be standing out on the road throwing rocks at cars. (Duh. I am intelligent enough to figure that out.) Anyway, she again said, "You really do have your hands full. I can hear a baby in there and you've got these boys. You should really probably get some help."
REALLY? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO ME?
I most likely wrongfully defended myself by saying, "Yes, I have three busy boys, a five month old baby whom I was just nursing, a home to take care of, a job to keep up with, and a husband with brain cancer. So don't judge me!"
I then told McKay that he needed to apologize to her and told him that he knew better than to #1 be out near the road and #2 to throw rocks. He was embarrassed and nearly cried, but did say that he was sorry.  Instead of accepting his apology she just said, "Don't do it again," and she marched off.
After taking McKay back inside and yelling at him for making a wrong choice (yes, I am guilty of yelling at my child and yes, I do feel guilty about it), I sent him to his room and told him that he was to stay there for the rest of the night. I went to my crying baby and picked her up and tried to comfort her. I felt like screaming and crying and punching a hole through the wall all at the same time.
The problem is that the woman verbally stated what I silently fear most. That my hands are too full and that I am not doing a good enough job of taking care of my kids. I haven't found the delicate balance between hovering and giving my kids their space to play and just be kids. I haven't been able to figure out how to adequately "keep an eye" on everything they are doing but still be able to take care of my baby and take care of the laundry and the housework and fix dinner and etc. etc. etc.  I try to teach my boys to be good and to make good choices, but they are boys. They are kids. They make their own choices and those choices aren't always the right ones. Sometimes those choices drive me insane and make me wonder how I am going to do this and why I actually wanted to be a mother.
It's is clearly beyond my capacity as was stated by our visitor this evening. I wonder why I actually wanted to be perpetually behind on seemingly every aspect of my life. I wonder why I wanted to be the absolute last one to be able to shower and get myself ready, to eat, or to even use the bathroom.  I remember a time in my life when I would have been so embarrassed to have people always see me with my trusty sweatpants, yesterday's makeup, and yesterday's hair just combed out and maybe a little spruced up. Now it's just commonplace.
I want so badly to not be a chubbalub and to be able to wear something more than my "fat clothes" but I can't even get a consistent string of exercise in to make it really count. Yes, I could wake up before my kids and get it done, but to be honest I just want to get every minute of sleep that I can since my baby will still get up three and four times during the night.
The truth is that amongst all the craziness and outright admittance that I am far from getting it all together, I know deep down that I wouldn't change it. I wouldn't chose another life. While I rant and continue to throw a cyber-tantrum, there is a part of me that knows I wouldn't be happier without them.
Each one of my four precious babies has brought something special into our life, into our home, into our family.
Yes, it is an overwhelming charge to have been entrusted with these strong spirits. But, I won't give up. For all the maid-service and clean laundry in the world, I wouldn't trade one of them.
The boys may smell like wet puppies and Eliza might keep me awake at night, but they sure can melt my heart, make me laugh, and remind me of what is most important in life. It's hard and I don't doubt that I will have more nights like this one when I wonder how in the world I will be able to teach them and have them actually mind all they've been taught. Still, I did, and I do want this.

"Live for the Miracle"

After listening to President Monson's talk about gratitude today, I realize that I can't keep putting off this post "until tomorrow." I usually post at night because I don't have the interruptions of three little boys, just occasionally a sweet baby girl. But lately I can't get myself to do it because I am too tired late at night. I also do most of my thinking in the late night hours and early morning hours. (And then I wonder why I am so tired!) So, this post is almost a week in the making.  It's also titled after a new friend's answered prayer. (More on that later...)

Last Tuesday, Josh had another marathon appointment day. First off was an MRI, blood work, consultation with the new Neuro-Oncologist Dr. Coleman, and then an infusion. 

After the MRI a month ago, I wasn't sure I could let myself hope for anything but the worst-case scenario. I kinda felt like if I just plan on the so-called inevitable, it wouldn't hurt as much. I would be more in control, more prepared, more capable.  

Much to our delight, the MRI was much better than last month! The tumor didn't absorb as much contrast, suggesting that the blood vessels feeding the tumor are not as active! In addition to the good news, I am so grateful for the new doctor at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. Dr. Coleman is their long-awaited Neuro-Oncologist who comes from the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Texas. He has been treating and studying brain cancer for nine-plus years, and I was SO thankful that he was patient and kind enough to thoroughly answer my 45 minutes of questions. I think that Josh was getting embarrassed, but after Dr. Coleman called my questions, "sophisticated" I didn't care anymore. I realized that he was acknowledging that my questions were good and important and that I had the right to hear the answers. I can't say that he gave me any answers that eased the uncertainty or reality of knowing that my husband has terminal brain cancer, but his answers were an answer to my prayers, lifted the burden, and somehow let me hope again. 

I know it is terrible to admit, but after Josh started having seizures, I really was afraid to hope. It's just what I said before, I felt like I could maybe keep my heart from completely falling apart if I was there ready to catch the pieces. Anyone who has been following my blog might remember how hopeful I felt in August after watching Josh run and play with the boys. I was so hopeful that after he had his first seizure I almost felt like it was Heavenly Father reminding me that He is in charge and that I must be willing to accept the Lord's will. 

After this visit with the doctor, I realized that it wasn't like the Lord was slapping me on the hand (so-to-speak), but that it is just part of the roller-coaster we've been riding for the last six months. We were able to have lunch with another couple who have been on the same roller-coaster for five years. (Yep, I said five years!) Our hearts were full of gratitude for their faith and perseverance in their trial. What great examples for us to look up to and learn from. In fact they were sharing a recent challenge, their struggle and then answer to prayer when I realized that the answer they received was the tender mercy I had been looking for. They said they had the impression to "live for the miracle." I immediately felt more of the weight lifting from my shoulders. I realized that I was physically and emotionally experiencing what I had been praying for. The atonement was healing my hurting heart.  I was feeling the peace I had been craving and yet fearing to allow myself to experience. 

Josh just took his last dose of chemo for this round and we will be going back at the end of the month for another MRI and consult with Dr. Coleman. Josh's birthday is this month. He will be 32. I am so grateful that six months ago the tumor was found and that we were able to meet with doctors and get Josh started on treatments. After his surgery, Dr. Jensen told my mom and I that it was probably aggressive enough that without treatment it could take him in 3 to 6 months. 

Well, he was able to started and continue with treatment and now it is six months later and while we are still taking it one day at a time, we are happy and hopeful. 

Our children are a joy and have been so good to sense when I need a love or a snuggle! They always seem to say the funniest things at just the right moments! Each one of them are tender mercies for which we are extremely grateful. 

This conference weekend was restful and healing. (I find it ironic that last conference weekend Josh was resting and healing from brain surgery!)

I hope this never seems redundant or loses its sincerity. We are grateful for all those who have wrapped their arms around us to build us up and strengthen our spirits. We are extremely thankful for prayers in our behalf and hope that those who are praying are aware that your prayers are being answered.  We feel of your faith!

Help Me to Believe

A new worry has plagued my mind. Well, not just one... I am also worried about GBM in the spine (once again, too much googling) but there is just one that I seriously need to address. My boys.
They are smart. They know what is going on. They understand that their dad is sick and that he has a tumor. They know that he goes to Salt Lake for medicine. They also know that sometimes people die.  Ever since Josh had his first seizure (yes, he has had another since my last post) the boys keep making comments and asking questions about if their dad is dying or going to die.
How do you answer that? I have told them that he is going to be okay, but I know that isn't good enough because all three of them keep commenting. For example:

• Kimball was emotional tonight. He was worried that his dad would keep having seizures and that he would die before we could go on vacation. He said, "He is our very first dad, and we don't want another dad." 
• On the day Josh had his second seizure (last Tuesday) McKay asked, "Is Dad going to die because Heavenly Father needs him like he needed Josh Graham?" (Josh Graham was a friend, our bishop, and my boss. We all loved Josh and miss him)
• Friday after I drove Josh to work, Benson must have forgotten that we had taken Daddy to work because he was looking for him and said, "Where's Dad? Did he die?"

The truth is Josh and I both have decided that we must accept whatever the Lord's will and understand that in doing so, we will be able to find the peace and strength we need to be able to endure. Josh is better than me. I just want answers. I don't like feeling like things are up in the air. However, I KNOW that I have felt the quiet peace that comes from knowing the Lord is in charge and no matter the outcome everything will be alright.
As adults, with a life of experiences, we still struggle to understand that this life is given to us, and that we need to be okay with just letting go. So, how do you explain that to little boys? They are smart, yes. They have felt the Spirit. I know they have. I have been privileged to witness their sweet experiences. But they are still little boys. I wish that I could protect them from the harsh reality that we are facing. There are no concrete answers that we can give them. No absolutes in one direction or the other. Just that we are doing everything we can, but that ultimately it is up to Heavenly Father. Ultimately, Heavenly Father knows how their dad can best help these boys grow into righteous, stalwart, honorable men (which is something we pray for daily). Heavenly Father can work mighty miracles. He can see the big picture, and we are given so little and must extend our faith. It seems like such a hard lesson, a burden really, that doesn't seem fair to place on little boys.
So tonight, I am contemplating the best way to be honest and fair but to somehow protect them.  We have plans to discuss it for Family Home Evening. I guess I have about 16-17 hours to figure out what the Lord would have me teach them.
When I was in seminary, I had an awesome teacher. Brother Kunz wrote lots of songs and used them in his lesson plans. The songs he wrote all had stories behind them. The one going through my head tonight was about a family who had a son injured in a terrible car accident. To the best of my memory (which may not be so great, given that it is nearly 2 am), the lyrics go something like this:

Help Me to Believe

As I kneel beside his bed, I think about the blessing on his head.

They were the words my Father gave to me. Help me to believe.

I know he hears and answers prayers, when we call him he is always there.

He promised miracles would never cease. Help me to believe.

And help me to put my trust in Thee. Hear my plea, please comfort me.

And help me see-- Miracles never cease. Help me to believe.

As I see him sitting there, I know his life is in our Father's care.

In his eyes I see his faith is complete. Help me to believe.

If I knelt at Jesus feet, He could heal my son so easily.

But I know his power works through me. Help me to believe.

And help me to put my trust in Thee. Hear my plea, please comfort me.

And help me see-- Miracles never cease. Help me to believe.

SIDENOTE: Hmm... I can't remember the rest. I tried to google it to see if I could find the lyrics. (I am getting really good at googling these days.) I just found out that he is teaching at BYU-Idaho. That's awesome. It sounds like his students enjoy his style of teaching as much as I did. One of the quickest ways to invite the spirit is through music, and he did that so often in our seminary classes. Anyway, that song is from his CD, I Believe. 

Tonight, I feel like I am praying and pleading with the Lord to help me put my trust where it belongs: with Him. I am praying for comfort and faith. I am praying for the strength I need to be able to share it with my boys. I want to help them have faith, not fear. I am praying for the enabling power of the atonement to help me do something that I would not be able to do if left to my own means.  

Just so you know what REALLY happened.

Ok, I don't know exactly how I feel about posting right now, but I feel like I need to.
Let's be honest. We live in a small town on the corner of a super busy street. It's no surprise that the word spread like wildfire that we had an ambulance, a paramedic truck and a Uintah County Sheriff at our house on Tuesday morning. It was just before 8am. Just in time for people to be headed to work and dropping their kids off at school. I know that most people are sincerely concerned and we really do appreciate the love and support, so... let's set the record straight.
Josh was getting ready to head out the door to a meeting for work when he said, "Oh no!" and then hit the floor. I barely had time to ask him what was wrong when he was trying to tell me to call 911.
Stupid phone was not on the jack and I panicked looking for it. I actually don't even remember where I found it before I was dialing and rushing back to Josh.
By this time McKay and Benson had clued in to the fact that something was wrong and they followed me into our room where Josh was lying on the floor having a seizure. The woman who answered my 911 call asked me to have someone meet the paramedics at the door. I panicked because I didn't want to leave my husband and I didn't want to send my kids to the door either.
I immediately started calling the most recent calls on my cell phone.
I tried to call my mom. No answer. Must have been driving.
I tried to call my sister. No answer.
I tried Toni. Thank you Toni for answering and rushing out the door.
It's all kind of a blur but it felt like it lasted forever. Josh was conscious the entire time he was seizing and said that it was a scary almost out-of-body experience because he was totally out of control of his body.
I just remember McKay and Benson kneeling at his head asking me if he was dying. I told them that he wasn't, but actually I had a this picture in my mind of the tumor seeping into the channels of his brain and spreading itself further and deeper. I was afraid he was dying too. I wasn't even convinced it was a seizure because it almost looked like a stroke. Only the right side of his body was shaking and the muscles were contracted and pulling at his limbs and face. We said a prayer. McKay was trying not to cry, and he said, "I don't want to say it Mom, you say it." So I did.
Finally the paramedics arrived and at some point Toni and my sister got there. Not sure if it was before or after the paramedics or maybe at the same time. Hmmm... I realize now that I am not sure how my sister knew to come. I had tried her cell but got no answer. Note to self: Must ask Emily how she knew to come.
After somehow farming out my kids and while knowing they were in good hands, and hoping that they (and those taking care of them) would be alright, I went out to follow the ambulance to the hospital. I waited for a minute in the truck and then wondered what was taking them so long. I went to check on Josh. I found them trying to place an IV. Poor Josh. They weren't having very much success and Josh actually got sick and threw up while they were trying to get the IV in this place and that. I guess all the stress from the seizure and everything made him nauseous and it didn't help to have them miss a vein and try for another over and over.
We finally made it to the ER where they decided it would be best to find out from the specialists at the Huntsman Cancer Institute that Josh has been seeing, what they wanted him to do. So after several hours in the ER, he was sent home with anti-seizure medication and we planned to follow up with the specialists.
So on Wednesday, we went to his regular infusion (which is for a study group that he is part of). The nurse practitioner over Neuro-Oncology came to talk to us and said that she thought he would be fine to wait until his next scheduled MRI. We weren't I told her I didn't think it was alright to leave the hospital with no answers. Especially since he had never had a seizure up until that point. She argued that maybe he was over tired. I argued back that he has been plenty tired since he started treatment and it didn't seem likely that just now his body would react by seizing. When Josh said that he would much rather be pro-active, she agreed to schedule an MRI for us. However it wouldn't be until the end of the day and so we would have to make the decision to either stay another night, or to go home. We decided to stay in case we needed to be here Thursday.
Just as we were making the decision, we heard back that we would need to be back on Thursday morning to discuss with members of the tumor board what do do next. His tumor has grown. We don't know yet by how much, since we just got a phone call tonight. I guess tomorrow will be more telling.
Until then, I just keep reminding myself that the image I saw in my mind during his seizure was preparation. Even though the Lord may not answer prayers the way we want them answered, they are always answered in our best interest according to His eternal perspective. We will be ok. Things will be fine. Josh is great and has a really good attitude about it all. Deep inside, I know that now matter what, it will be ok. It's just scary and hard to hear what we heard. Too many things go through my mind. Too many "what ifs" and unknowns are floating around in my head.
In the Book of Mormon it says that murmuring is to disbelieve. I am trying to not murmur. I am trying to be strong like Josh.

A bit of inspiration

Not a lot has gone on as far as Josh's treatment. (Another round of chemo, lots of tired days and getting ready to start another round next week.) But, we have been busy, and I just haven't taken the time to update or upload pictures or anything. So... here's a quickie:

Eliza is 15 weeks old. She's growing fast, and it makes my heart ache.

The boys will be starting preschool, Kindergarten, and first grade. It makes my heart ache.

We went camping over the last week to our traditional spot, Ox Park.  It was a lot of fun, and the best part was that I think the mountain made Josh feel better! He ran with the kids, played ball, shot guns, and went hiking to the "moon rocks." It makes my heart hope!

Then, as I was waiting for some Tylenol to take away this annoying shoulder pain... I jumped onto blogger and found these quotes from Elder Uchtdorf's November 2008 talk on hope. Thanks Aunt Colette for always posting just what I need!

The Lord has given us a reassuring message of hope: “Fear not, little flock.” God will wait with “open arms to receive” those who give away their sins and continue in faith, hope, and charity.

And to all who suffer—to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely—I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in.

Never surrender.

Never allow despair to overcome your spirit.

Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart.