Friday, September 21, 2012

My Diana's Early Missionary Days

So.
I like starting sentences with "So" because
it feels like I'm just continuing on with a
conversation that started in 2007.

So.
Diana, my sweet missionary girl, has been gone
since August 3rd--
first to the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah
for a month,
and then on September 3rd,
she flew to her Mission in Rochester, New York
where she'll be until February 2014.

The days leading up to her departure were busy, busy, busy.
Even the day she popped out of the car
and onto the curb at the MTC,
was a busy day,
no-time-for-cryin'-kinda day.
We smiled, we hugged, we yelled out the car windows
as we drove away,
"WE LOVE YOU, SISTER JOHNSON!"
And then we were outta there,
leaving our girl to begin her own Adventure.
I captialized "Adventure"
because a mission of this sorts
deserves an "A".

We got weekly letters from Nana while she was in the MTC.
We wrote several letters--
she reported that out of all the missionaries in her "zone"
she received more letter than anyone else.
Booyeah!
Well, you know, we have an enormous family
and this ain't the first time we've sent out a missionary,
so we know how important contact from home is to new missionaries.
Plus,
it helps us to not miss her so much.

So.
While she was at the Salt Lake City Airport,
she got to call home.
I didn't sleep the night before...
well, I finally went to bed at 2am
but was lying awake by 5am
waiting for the phone to ring.
So was Mr. Wonderful.
We whispered our excitement
in those early morning hours to one another.

Finally,
RING!! I sprung up like a jack-in-the-box
to grab the phone--
"Nana?! Is that you?"

"Mom?" she answered.

And then, because our throats closed up with emotion,
and eyes filled with tears...
and we forced words to come out.
Words like,
"You sound so good!"
"I have missed you do much!"
"Are ya doin' okay?"
"Do ya need anything?"
"I love you so much."

And the ugliest, most awful thing:
"I only have a few minutes, Mom. There's a long line of missionaries right here
waiting to call home too."
I replied laughing and selfishly, "I don't care." 
Nana said, "Their moms are waiting too. I'll call you on the layover in Detroit, ok?"
So she spent a couple more minutes talking to Joseph and Ari and Dad--she couldn't even wait for us to wake Daisie up, but promised she'd talk to us longer in Detroit.
And that was it.
Over in just minutes.

She did call back about 4-5 hours later
when we got another 20 minutes
to chat.
It was so short. Too short.

We are the biggest boobs on the planet.
I'm sharing that now,
just in case anyone thinks we're this awesomely brave family.
We. Are. Not.
We are sad saps to the nth-degree.
Hearing our girls' voice went right to the soft spots of our hearts.
I was equally teary-eyed and miserable,
and elated and grateful
for the rest of the day.

Later that evening,
the phone rang and it was Sister Christianson,
the Mission President's wife.
She said they'd picked up our girl
and she was "lovely and delightful"
and they're so glad to have her.
N' that Diana was already asleep for the night
after a very long day that began at 4am, Utah-time.

I honestly don't recall anything else she said.
My heart was just relieved to know our girl had arrived safely.

So.
We've been getting emails and letters home every week;
beautiful scripts filled with love and gratitude
and witnesses of faith and growth.
Diana is the happiest I've ever known her to be;
she is serving with a Sister Clark from Texas
as her companion,
whom she loves and adores.
And also a Sister Thomas and another sister from Italy
who is learning to speak english.
Diana is serving at the Church's historic sites
giving tours during the day,
and teaching the gospel in the evening.
She met a small family of three,
that are very humble.
The mother is in a wheelchair,
and has a deteriorating brain.
The first time the sisters went over,
they noticed that the home had just one room--
wherein there is a bed on the floor,
one chair
and one small table.
The mother apologized that the only place to sit
was the floor,
but she herself, had bleached it in anticipation of the sisters visit.
Diana was so touched,
she asked if she and her companion might return over the weekend
to offer service.
Here is a portion of the recent email Diana sent home this week:

Anyways last week we asked if we could serve them...they have NOTHING. So saturday morning sister clark (who I now love and adore) spent 2 hours on our hands and knees cleaning their apartment. Mom it was so bad....so so so bad. It was also so so so humbling. We have so much. By the time we left the house was white again. I have bruises on my knees still from scrubbing the floors just how you taught me to.
I loved this because it is easy to see that my girl is truly serving,
in the most sincere ways,
people in need.
That's what we as parents, hope missions teach our children.
To see beyond the end of their own noses,
and act on their own accord
to do what they can do to help.

She is becoming a Disciple of Christ.

So.
That's how it's been with her gone.
She's busy doing and being
and
I'm at home doing what I always do--
running a household the best I can,
and trying not to miss her so much.

It has been six weeks since we drove over the Rocky Mountains
to drop her off at the "trailhead" of her Adventure...
and until yesterday,
I had not even once,
gone down to the basement to her bedroom.
But yesterday, I was already in the basement putting away
some home staging accessories on a bookcase,
when I looked over at her door.
"It's time", I thought.
SO,
I poked my head inside and walked over to her bed
sat down,
looked around at her photo frames,
wall collages,
and desk all tidied-up.
Nothing out of place.
And then the biggest wall of emotions hit me
square on.
I cried.
O I cried.
I miss her.
This sacrifice of sending our kids out into the world
without us,
and not being able to talk to them but twice a year
is not easy.
I wouldn't have her doing anything else,
truly.
It is SO good for her--
for now and for later.
But, wow.
It is a hard thing.

The other night at the dinner table,
I had had a particularly sappy few moments of missing Nana,
and I turned to my 11 year old, Arianna,
and said,
"YOU do not need to plan on going on a mission. I simply cannot bear the idea of sending you away."
To which my fiesty girl responded: "OH, I'm GOIN'! That's how we escape! You only THINK we're on a Mission! Nana's actually on a vacation."
Yeah. I'm definitely gonna miss this one in 10 more years.

So,
when you see our sweet missionaries in your town,
or if they happen to come to your door,
will you be kind to them?
They have a mother at home
who would give anything to see their smile today
and who is on her knees praying
for their safety and well-being.
You can be the answer to her prayer.



Thursday, September 13, 2012

This Doula Has Limits

When I was contacted about being a doula
for that young mom whose husband is deployed
and is due around Thanksgiving--
I met with her;
we talked extensively about her expectations
and ideal homebirth plan
that would include her two young children.
Then just days later,
she changed her mind about a homebirth
stating simply that she didn't care for the way
the midwife interacted with her other children.

I'm guessing the midwife saw what I saw--
two very wiggly little ones with lots of energy to spare.
Even so, I agreed to be a "sibling doula" for them
so the Momma could have them at the birth.
But, the plan changed.
The new plan was to go to a birth center in Denver.
In November.
That's an hour and a half away,
with always the chance of snow during that time of the year.
I said "yes" to the New Plan...
which included me picking the whole family up and driving to the birth center
once Mama was in labor,
tending the little ones during the labor and delivery,
packing Mama and the little ones up two-three hours after the birth,
and then driving back down to the Springs,
unloading the new family at their home
and getting everyone settled in
before I would leave to come home, shower, eat, get some rest,
and then head back within 4-6 hours
to continue on with Post-partum care.

I was on board with all of that.
There was just one more thing I wanted in place--
that another person be at the house
whenever I wasn't in the first 24 hours
to keep watch over Mama and baby.
She insisted that she didn't need anyone else there
in my absence,
that she would just take it easy and all would be well.

I shared experiences where, sadly,
that supervision was not given
and tragic outcomes occurred.
She said she'd think about it n' get back to me.

She did.
She said that because of my concerns,
she was going to get a different doula who would honor her wishes
and her birth plans--
someone who would trust her instincts over their own.

And that kinda stunk on ice.
It's a mix of unfamiliar rejection
and straight-up concern for an ignorant mother.
Aside from my own births (7 of 'em),
one of which resulted in hemorraging to the point of passing out
and having to receive blood,
two hours after a birth;
and attending home births as a midwife assistant,
and attending hospital births as a doula,
I KNOW there is liablity for a caregiver/health professional
to stay with a new mother at least 24-48 hours.
It would be irresponsible to do otherwise.
Just a flat-out dangerous risk I'm unwilling to take.

It may sound like I'm complaining about being replaced
but that's not it--
my limits are
based on training and experience.
And I know that we live in a
"have-it-your-way" culture,
but reason has to trump ego sometimes
for safety.
And the saying "better safe than sorry"
was borne from necessity,
I'm sure.

Doulas are guardians, advocates, encouraging presences
passionate about the miracle of motherhood and birth.
We are partners and educators.
We have a responsibility & commitments to keep childbirth
as safe as possible.
Anything less is unacceptable.

So, if you're a doula
know your limits.
Stand up for them. Abide them.
And if you're thinking about hiring a doula,
learn what a doula's role is in childbirth
and respect her experience and knowledge.
Trust is essential on both sides.
The miracle of birth is just that--
a miracle and demands respect and awareness.
That said,
I love being a Doula!


Monday, September 10, 2012

Riley's New Farm Life AKA My yahoos were traumatized this weekend

So remember when we adopted the best freakin' dog in the world?
Last July, we got a sweet 5 year old golden retreiver named Riley
as a companion dog for our wingnut 3 year old black lab, Dakota.

Well, I'd never adopted an adult dog before,
so I had very little expectations,
but some of them were unrealistic anyway.
Riley had been very well trained--
he would sit when we said "sit"
he'd stay when we said "stay"
and he would come when we called him.
Already,
he was far and way better trained than Dakota.

But, she hated him.
She bit him
harrassed him
growled and snipped at him
all.day.long.
" Jealousy thy name is Dakota."

And, from Day One, Riley dug holes under our fence
to get out of the backyard.
All. the. time.
Our kind neighbors would bring him back
or call us, since our info was on his dog tags.
Not only was it annoying and destructive,
it was dangerous.

Twice he was found trotting down a busy road
one street over from us.
The thought of him being run over by a car
concerned me,
so he ended up inside the house most of the time.
Which ain't no fun for him.

I decided last May to place an ad on Craigslist
for him to be adopted.
The response was tremendous,
for an AKC intact golden retriever with good manners,
just as I knew there would be.
The yahoos revolted and weren't ready to let go of
the Best Dog in the World.
I wasn't either, I admit it.
I love goldens and he's a charmer through n' through.
So I sat on the adoption.

Until last Friday,
as I was pulling up into the driveway
after being gone maybe 15 minutes,
I caught him again escaping the backyard,
headed for who knows where.
And I knew,
I just knew right then,
that it was time to place him for his own good
in a more suitable home.

One of the responders I got was from a gal up in Greeley, Colorado
who, together with her husband owns a land and cattle farm.
She wrote that she already owned 4 goldens and was looking for another male
to breed.
I liked the idea of the farm,
but not so much the breeding.
I don't know why the idea bothered me,
as we've bought all of our dogs from breeders,
except Riley, who had been adopted from a breeder
by his previous owners.
But it did bother me
so I kept looking.
We got many repsonses from families like ours--
they wanted to adopt a sweet mannered golden
to live with them.
But I knew that was not going to be ideal for him--
he didn't really bond with us--
as evidenced by his escaping behavior.
Dakota never left our yard,
even with a gaping hole in the fence
as Riley would leave it.
She is attached to us.
We belong to her and visa versa.

So to put him into the same exact setting
wasn't going to work;
we needed something different.

After alot of careful thought,
I emailed the farmer's wife and asked if she were still interested.
She was excited to meet him,
so we drove 2 hours yesterday up to Greeley
to check out the place.

It was out in the middle of farm country--
they had horses, cows, sheep, pigs
and a zillion rows of corn.
By the house was the large fenced area for her goldens,
and also on the property were two white Great Pyrenees
guarding the place from coyotes,
according to the farmer's wife.

We introduced Riley to her
and of course he won her over.
He is such a gentleman.
Her other breeding dogs were going nuts!
The male was quite defensive--
I think it's because Riley is so much more handsome
than he is,
and he had two females in heat with him,
so he' was protecting his romantic interests, yeah?

This is where our Sunday in the country
proved a bit much for our citified
yahoos:
first, Riley was chasing a horse, who was chasing a cow,
and just as I knew it,
he got kicked in the chin by the horse.
Riley didn't even yelp,
he did learn his lesson though
and got out of the corral ASAP.
The kids were very concerned that their pet just got kicked by a horse,
as they'd never seen anything like that before.
It gets worse though.
While we were down by the feed barn with the sheep,
two little teeny kittens came tumbling out to greet us.
Dara, who is the family pet-lover,
scooped them both up and asked if they were For Sale--
to which the farmer's wife offered them up right then
to us
for Free.
I shook my head and reminded Dara we weren't there for kittens,
and besides, Ari and I are both allergic to cats.
So Dara carried them around for a little bit
until we got to the backporch of the house.
Then she set them down to play.
Riley saw them both,
sniffed them, even licked one,
but went on his way.
Told you, he is the best dog!
The farmer's wife was surprised at how gentle
he was with the kittens
and remarked about it.

So between the porch and the fenced-in dog yard
with the 3 goldens in there,
we had parked our Suburban in the driveway,
so that you couldn't see on the other side of it.
Joseph and Ari were over at the fence,
while Dara, Kent and I were at a table on the porch,
filling out the AKC paperwork and Bill of Sale for Riley.
We had agreed that in exchange for Riley,
instead of money,
we would like a female puppy sired by Riley and
a British cream female there
named Duchess,
to be delivered sometime in 2013.
Just as the paperwork was being signed,
a huge fuss of barking started,
and Joseph yelled out,
"the dogs are eating the kitten!"
Kent and Dara ran over
but in those three seconds,
the dogs had ripped the kitten in peices.
My heart sank.
I looked over the car for Ari
who looked to be in shock, walking to me,
eyes filled with tears.
She couldn't believe what she'd just witnessed.
One of those sweet tiny kittens had waddled over
to the fence,
and a dog grabbed her by the head and pulled her to him,
then another dog came and they did a tug-of-war on the creature
until it was in pieces.
Dara stood there,
waiting by the fence, hoping the farmer's wife would come and
"do something" to help the kitten,
until we called her to come away.
She scooped up the other kitten
and with tears flowing begged me to
let her bring the kitten home with us.
That was hard.
I wanted to. I so wanted to.
But that was not practical for our family.
Our lab, Dakota doesn't like cats,
so what would we do with it?
And we couldn't keep it inside because of allergies.

So I put my arm around her,
and we walked back to the feed barn
where the kittens had tumbled out of,
and she placed the black and white kitten back in a corner.
Immediately,
the kitten jumped over hay bales and feed bags
until she landed next to my feet,
looked up at me and "meowed" with her small blue eyes.
This is too hard, I thought.
Again, Dara picked her up and put her further back into the barn
and we both hurried back to the house,
while Dara just sobbed.
Heavens,
my own heart felt wrenched and eyes teared up.

My kids had never seen nature be so cruel and unforgiving.
The farmer's wife was equally touched,
but she offered just a few words,
"Kittens don't last long on farms, I'm sad to say."

By this time, she needed to go fetch the remains of the kitten
out of the dog pen,
and then, it was time to say our goodbyes to
the best dog in the world--
who I haveta say,
was having the time of his life running around,
exploring all of the different animals and corn rows,
he even licked a toad!
I was looking for a good reason to say "No thanks. We'll just take our dog and go home."
I really was.
But, this trip wasn't about US,
it was about this sweet dog,
so despite the kids' pleas,
we left him there.

Tears flowed on the way home,
and into the evening,
as the kids relived the awful scenes they witnessed
compiled with leaving Riley.
The trip home was emotional to say the least.

I don't know what my expectations were for a breeding kennel set-up...
I was thinking it was like a buncha sweet dogs all hangin' out,
makin' puppies and runnin' around,
happy as larks.
Hunting dogs bred to be hunting dogs,
kept in dog pens,
eatin' kittens,
wasn't even on my radar.
I did tell the farmer's wife that Riley is a housedog, a family dog--
not a penned-up dog,
which she could easily see.

The kids all hung out with us in our room last night,
and we talked about getting a new puppy next year
and what we'll name her and teach her.
And the fact that we'll get to see Riley again;
all happy thoughts.
By bedtime,
we had two girls who needed extra loving
and Ari even got a blessing by Dad to help her sleep away
those scary memories.

We were all a little traumatized.
Life is like that sometimes.
We see things that we shouldn't see,
or wish we hadn't seen
and somehow, I hope,
there's a lesson in this experience that will do my kids
some good.
Maybe it's as cliche as
"life is fragile"
or
"be aware of your surroundings"
or something else I can't think of right now.
But I hope something good comes of it,
whatever it is.

You can bet that Dakota is being loved on a hundred times more,
and she is lovin' it.

{sigh}
I am doing the best I can.
Somedays, though.
Wow.

P.S. Got an email from the farmer's wife this morning; she said, and I quote:
Thank you so very much for riley, he slept with me last night he is sooooo sweet! I am sorry abt the kitten i got angry and it is nobodys fault but the kitten. Thx again

Friday, September 7, 2012

Mondays, Fridays, Doula Days, Thanksgiving Days

It's Friday.
I love Fridays like nobody's business.

Mondays used to be my most favorite day of the week
when the yahoos were younger--
that's when my true appreciation for
school teachers was in full bloom.
I love sending my yahoos off to a secure environment,
less than 5 minutes from the house
for that heavenly 8 hour span of learning.

Now, though, with the brood down to just three yahoos
at home,
Fridays make me happy--
they are such great lead-in days to Saturday.

So I met the prospective doula client--
and her little girls the other day.
This is the gal that is due on Thanksgiving
and will be having a homebirth
without her currently-deployed husband.
I waited until I had a chance to meet with her
to decide if it was a good fit for both of us.
So we met,
we chatted,
and while I doubt she will actually deliver her baby
on her actual due date,
I felt and still feel,
that it is the right thing to do to support this little family
in whatever way I can,
even if it is on Thanksgiving.
Heavens, her husband's career makes it possible
for my family to even have a Thanksgiving, right?
It's the least I can do.

Speaking of Thanksgiving,
the high temp in the Springs today is supposed to hit 65o...
the yahoos actually grabbed their hoodies on the way
to the bus stop--
which is directly across the street from us.
I love that.
I can keep an eye on them from the sofa.
Anyway,
I think I'll drag out my fall decor this weekend
and make some of the goodies I've snagged on Pinterest.
Fall is where it's at, you know.
Fall is
warm soups,
sweaters tied around the waist,
socks,
golds and rusty reds,
cinnamon and nutmeg,
early evenings and football games.
I'm ready.
Bring it!


Tuesday, September 4, 2012

My PC's having an out-of-body experience

It's truly touch n' go around here.
I haven't been able to post anything
in days and days...
this ancient COMPAQ is about to
float towards the light
and I'll be forced to call
T.O. D. before I know it.

But the Intel Processor heavens
have opened tonight
and poured out some mercy
so that I might
get some blog-worthy thoughts
out into the www-Universe.

I have more to tell than I have time to tell it--
which stinks in a way,
because my brain is, like, ON right now.
But it's almost 11pm
and the Brain Fairy is likely
just at the edge of my fingers
ready to flip the switch on my memory
and leave me hangin' in the dark here.
So, I gotta get ta sputterin'
at lightening speed.

OKAY
First,
our missionary safely arrived in Rochester, New York
late yesterday,
as her Mission President's wife,
Sister This-Woman-Has-A-Mother's-Heart Christianson,
actually CALLED me to let ME know
our girl was there!
I slept like a baby last night,
whereas the past few nights
insomnia was my constant companion.

We even got to talk to our girl
as she had layovers in airports on the way.
Yesterday morning just before 6am
the phone rang!
I picked it up and said,
"Diana?"
"Mom, is that you?"
And then we both cried.
It was so wonderful to hear her voice!
And SO hard to have to hang up after just a few moments.
Ugh.
She's doing great though and is happily excited
to get to work!

Second,
Arianna had a severe reaction to her first set
of immunizations last week.
She actually got the measles.
Head to toe rash,
fever, sore throat, aches and pains,
the whole "it's very rare to have side-effects" deal.
I normally don't have my kids vaccinated
while they are young...
not until they're 20, at least.
But my doc assured me the formulas used today
"are so much safer" blah blah blah
that I gave in at the start of school
to just a few shots.
I wish I hadn't.
She is feeling better,
still not sure if she'll go to school tomorrow though.

Third,
Joseph had his first Cross Country meet today
a Air Academy High School.
Three things that stood out:
1- There was a big pile of fresh bear scat on the trail from the parking lot
to the stadium and I thought, "Cool. Only in Colorado."
2- IN the middle of the meet, while the last group was actually running,
the PA system came on, and played the American Anthem. This prompted
the entire crowd to stand on its' feet, place our hands over our hearts, facing the US flag on the field and wonder what the heck was going on?  So weird, wonderfully American.
3- As I was approaching the bleecher that Joseph was on, a woman in the crowd yelled out, "DAWN!"  I turned to see a familiar face, though I could not, for the life of me, remember her name or where I knew her from! She asked, "When did you guys get back?" I answered, "2008."  "Oh, who are you here for?" STILL not recalling who she was, I pointed and replied, "Joseph."  "Oh, he's so big!" "Where does he go to school?", she asked.  AND THEN, as I told her which school he goes to, I remembered exactly who she was/is--our family even had a nickname for her family: "THE MEAN NEIGHBORS"!  And all I could think of was "The Mean Neighbors! The Mean Neighbors! Must. Get. Away!"  SO I smiled and excused myself with a "heyyyy, it's good to see you, take care."
When I got home, I told Mr W about the chance meeting and he said they were never really mean to US, it was the neighbors on either side of them--one neighbor they tried to kill their collie by throwing chocolate bars over the fence to kill it. (No kidding) and the other they continually harrassed over where their teenagers could park, claiming the asphalt in front of their house was THEIRS and THEIRS alone.  We just kept our distance. Altho' when Joseph was about 3, he did build a catapult in our front yard and launch a few rocks towards "the mean neighbors house". He was 3. The rocks landed on our sidewalk. But, the intent was there.  I just can't believe this lady was so nice to me. I have schizophrenic feelings here about how I reacted...should I have been equally nice once I realized who she was, because she was clearly happy to see me, OR was my instinct to get the heck outta dodge the best one?  I dunno. But it made me laugh later on.
What else?
*I have another doula appointment tomorrow. There's a slight dilemma because the mom is due November 23rd. The day before Thanksgiving. And her husband is deployed. And she has two little ones who will need a little bit of care (that would be me) while she has a home birth.  The timing is crummy though. I'll let you know what I end up doing.
*On Friday, Kelly and I are staging another house in the Broadmoor area. Super excited about that one.
*Mr. W says he's gonna start his own blog: "I Married a Chupacabra"...if he does, I'll definitely share the link.
*September 23rd marks the beginning of Fall...I'm thinking I want to do something special for la familia...any ideas/traditions you wanna share?

Okay, the PC needs some rest. I don't want to use all of it's grace up in one sitting.  Who knows when I'll be able to post again, but I'll take what I can get!