The Waiting game

***warning the following blog contains some graphic details.***

Putting this all into words is supposed to be therapy for me... I'm not sure how much that is working at the moment, but I'm willing to give it a try.   Last Friday I went to the ER for the second time, almost exactly a week after the first visit when I found out that I was expecting and probably miscarrying our 3rd child.  I'll back up just a little more.
I've had people coming to help me with food and cleaning and stuff as they are able, and one of the sweet people that I had coming was Ami, she is still being a super helpful friend, and to be honest I didn't even know her well before all this, though I wanted to.  Anyway, I got up from my modified bed rest to take my daughter F to bed.  I had to get her a bottle first so I walked from my living room to the dining room before realizing that the previously brown spotting I had been experiencing had turned into a light period like flow and that it wasn't going to stop.  I sat on the floor realizing that once again this could be the end of a life that I had hardly known to expect but cherished already so much.  I had C get me my phone while I coddled F on the floor trying to keep it together but realizing I needed help and very soon, I wouldn't be able to get my kids in bed alone.  P wasn't getting back into town until Wednesday (as I write this I'm looking forward very much to his coming home tomorrow evening.)  I texted Ami, I really couldn't talk to anyone I was sobbing.  I asked if she could come over, she responded quickly and said yes.
When Ami arrived she mothered me, she sat on the floor and swept my hair from my face and gave me a hug, I needed it but it felt odd since I really didn't know her that well... we have become rather close since this... I love her dearly!  She instantly got to work for me once I told her what was happening, and I took myself to the restroom.  She ended up calling her hubby and informing him of the rest of the evenings plans, He would come over once we got my children in bed, and she would come with me to the ER I was too nervous to do it alone.  She helped me to get F dressed and diapered and read a story to her, and put her in bed, then she worked on Caeden while I laid in bed a few more minutes... and made my way to the living room.
Jae, Ami's husband showed up a few minutes later with their daughter to camp out at my house until Ami and I could return from the ER. I'm blessed just thinking of all they did.  Ami informed later that she had just sat down to a margarita with Jae as I texted her... she said it to say she was glad she hadn't drank it already, but I felt like I probably ruined a romantic evening that I know with a 3 year old in the house is a hard thing to accomplish. 
At the ER Ami held my hand as I had my blood drawn, she held my hand when they inserted the IV that I probably didn't need but the Dr wouldn't allow me ANYTHING by mouth so i took the IV feeling a bit dehydrated anyway.  When I had my pelvic exam she stayed just outside the door, making sure no one wandered in at just that moment.  And when they did the ultrasound that again found nothing she stood by.  And when they informed me of my hormone levels and basically ignored me when I tried to tell them that they were the same as Wednesdays (because they didn't have Wednesday's info because it went to my own Dr's office not the ER).  I became antsy, overcome with grief, just KNOWING I'd lost my baby... and that it was all over.  Ami was there, she talked to me, distracted me and held my hand.  When they finally allowed me water and took the IV out of my hand and the nurse came to tell me I was going home and I nearly fainted, it was Ami who adjusted my bed and made the ringing in my ears go away, calmed my nerves and kept me from passing out.  The nurse just took my blood pressure and said it was probably anxiety.. yeah thanks dude!
Since Friday Ami has been here every day, helping with the kids, and cleaning and dinner.  I manage all day until dinner time, but once that time comes I can't give my 3 year old directions to get dinner ready (he gets yogurt and an orange or apple for himself for breakfast, and he gets bread mayo and sandwich meat for lunch and then puts them away for me too) dinner is just too complicated.  Ami takes care of us.  Other people have blessed us too in this ordeal, but none as much as Ami.
Yesterday she showed up at the door with small yellow roses in a green vase.  I saw them and nearly cried.  Partially because I've never gotten get well flowers before, I've gotten birthday flowers, and I've gotten date night flowers, and just because P loves me flowers, but not get well flowers, I don't know why that is a big deal but it is.  The other reason I nearly cried right then was that only an hour before I had passed a blood clot that clearly had tissue in it.  I kept it in a bag wondering if the Doctor's office would request to see it.  They said no, but as gross as it sounds I've kept it in the bag just behind my trashcan by the toilet, because if I get word from the doctor today that my hormone levels have dipped as I believe they would have then I plan to dig a tiny hole and bury my baby, or the only thing I have that could be my baby, I just can't imagine flushing it down the toilet as if it were a dead fish.
So I'm waiting, waiting to hear if the news I believe to be true (that I lost my baby) actually is true... I'm waiting, waiting to have P back home to give me a hug and tell me he loves me, and gently kiss my forehead.  Waiting for God to show me how big he really is and work a few miracles in our housing situation, since P is coming home without having accomplished the goal of getting us a house.  I'm waiting for that peace that passes understanding and the rest that God promises the weary.  I'm waiting on the hand of God to take control of all these things that are so obviously out of my control.  I'm waiting on God.

reflection

I'm sitting in my living room watching Masterpiece theater and thinking of some memories from years and years ago. 
My great grandma Dortha, a wonderful woman!  Every summer my mom would let my sister and I go and spend a week a piece (sometimes I got lucky and go two weeks) with my great grandparents.  We got to sit and read, or play with her very old toys, or we could play solitaire, or learn to sew, and then share the best meals ever cooked, and help out with piddly little chores that my grandmother was getting to old for.  Things like taking out the trash, or cleaning the cat litter, or replacing trash bags... seriously they were the easiest chores ever!
The meals were absolutely wonderful!  Every morning for breakfast there was cornflakes (yeah I know not that special) fried eggs, toast, bacon, cream of wheat, applesauce, apple juice milk, and sugar cookies... can you imagine making all that every morning?  But she did, at least every morning I was there.
for lunch it would be something much lighter, sandwiches probably or soup.  For dinner full meals like Fried chicken and mashed potatoes and corn and you name it... Grandma's fried chicken and gravy were the absolute BEST!  and all day I could freely snack on sugar cookies (grandma's own special ones, they were more like little cookie shaped cakes) and apple juice, since her sugar cookies were not overly sweet the juice and cookie was perfect together.
There was an incredible collection of books, some of which were just school work books from when Great Grandma, or perhaps their son, my grandpa was in school.  But then there were these real gems by Mrs. Southworth!  You can also find her writing under the name E.D.E.N. Southworth.  Every book I've read by her has been incredible and just wraps you in and keeps you there, under mystery and twinges of romance, and old fashioned language and humor.    Treasures really!  My sister and I enjoyed them so much that we looked up the author and found and purchased as many as possible.  I gave my copies to my sister when I thought I'd be moving across country, one day I hope to get them back.
Back to my current story though, while staying at Great Grandma's house I was introduced to masterpiece theaters. Every night my grandma would get out her cards and play solitaire and watch tv.  She almost always ate those nice crunchy cheese curls, and then finished the evening with a bowl of vanilla ice cream...
I remember my summers at Grandma's house so clearly, and loved them so much!  I did learn one very important lesson from those summers though, and that is that when a person wants to give you something you MUST accept.  My grandmother would always pay me for staying with her, but I never understood why since I knew she was living off social security checks and the things that she wanted to pay me for were much easier than the things I did every day at home.  I told her one summer that I really didn't want to accept her money and that i wanted to help her for love, not for money.  A few weeks later my mom informed me (and I cried when I realized it) that I had actually offended my grandmother when I suggested I didn't want her money.  The lesson I learned is that it blesses other people to bless me, or anyone that they choose to bless.  I don't have to feel bad about accepting a gift from someone who wants to give it... and yet this is the same lesson I've been learning my whole life. 
Learning to accept gifts from others, learning to accept help when I need it, Learning to ASK for help when it is needed, learning that I'm someone special only because God has told us that if we bless the last of these we bless him, so if I am 'the least of these' once in awhile then I give someone else the opportunity to serve Jesus!
Right now, I'm on bed rest to try to keep this pregnancy, and I am having to accept help, and ask for help, and organize my help.. giving MANY people the opportunity to serve Jesus by serving me, and it is an incredibly humbling experience.

The greatness of a God with a plan!

After being terrified and uncertain all weekend long God certainly asked me to preform and trust to my greatest ability yesterday!
The day started out with dropping P off at the airport so that he could go and start the process of purchasing a house for us in OK.  That was at 6am, so of course my little sleepers were sound asleep and had to be woken, they handled it like champs, or maybe I'm getting better at this?  Normally waking these two is a bad idea!  We made it to the airport, dropped daddy off and I kept my tears in check... I knew at that point that the day would be emotional.
Then we went home, had breakfast and packed the diaper bag (after getting C and F dressed) and headed to the sitter's house.  She was only available to me between 9:30am and 11am, so I knew I had to make the most of my time.  Headed to the lab to get my blood drawn, had to make a quick stop across the hall and get a sprite because I felt like crap and thought maybe the sugar would make me feel a little less ill.
Then I fought to get someone sweet to draw my blood because I faint and didn't have P with me.  After making someone mad, and probably getting someone else in trouble I had a great lady take care of me!  She talked to me about her daughter and her cousin and anything that kept conversation flowing while she got things ready, and it helped so much, and then she got me talking by asking me a question that required a longer answer, and stuck me while I was talking.  People have told me in the past to talk to them and I've never been able to do it, I forced myself to keep telling the story and when she finished she kept talking and asking me questions.  That is the part I usually faint at.  There was a moment when I thought I was going to lose it, but it passed without episode!  I'm so glad that God worked in my favor and that my complaining about the previous person who drew my blood didn't backfire on me!  I sipped my soda a little more and made it out of the lab without even getting nauseated!
I was told that if by that time I had not heard from my doctor's office I should stop in to hear my results... so I did... and though I had called that morning and they said all they could do was leave a message for Ulga, when I got to the office they said the VERY SAME THING!  I cried, and she put 'urgent' on the note... I didn't really feel like anyone really cared that I was in turmoil trying to figure out whether our baby was still striving... which was SO hard to handle. 
I left to pick up my kids as I was already running a little late, and we all went home for naps, which were very needed.  I should have slept too, but I was to anxious that the doctors office was going to call.  When they didn't I called again, this is my 3rd contact with them, and again they 'put in a note'.  a few hours later as their day was beginning to end and I knew their office would close soon I called again, this time I spoke with the office manager, who didn't like that I had no patience, but also understood my anxiety.  She again said I'd have to wait for Ulga to call me, but she at least said she would 'walk directly to her' and give the message instead of sending one via e-mail. 
Ulga did finally call, and I love the woman but she was confused.. I'm glad I figured out what she was saying instead of listening to her.. she began to tell me that my test results were that my hormone level was at 6,358 (up from 3146 on Thursday) and that it looked like I was indeed miscarrying... I was confused because I was pretty sure an increase like that would NOT mean miscarriage.  I asked her what the date on the test was, as I was thinking it was Friday, and she told me it was from Monday, and then got quiet said to wait a moment, and then said 'no that is from Friday... let me check for today's results and call you back.'  She did call back, at the end of the day, but without results, she said on my voicemail that I must have gone in too late in the afternoon... which is HILARIOUS since I had arrived at 9:45am and managed to get home by 12 noon!  But I don't mind if she wants to think that, it doesn't change the fact that she doesn't have the result yet.  And the lab and the doctor's office both were very busy so I'm ok with just Friday's results for now.... they look THAT promising to me!
Anyway, before hearing anything about my test results P called me and says that weather at his layover location is horrible and because his flight was so delayed he missed his connecting flight and wouldn't be able to get out until the next day 'most likely'.  So then I suggested that he see if he could transfer his ticket to another city and either drive or get a connecting flight from their to where he was trying to get to.  They transferred him just fine, but then I had to call Expedia to get him a connecting flight or a car rental, it ended up being a VERY late night for him, but he did arrive, and though he would have preferred if I had chosen the car over the jet he got over it and arrived just fine and even saved us a little money too. 
P is super stressed about the future, and one of our wonderful friends pointed out to him that God doesn't give us a spirit of fear, but of peace and love and of a sound mind... and I think it helped him!  He called me this morning and told me that.  We still have not talked about the baby since our initial conversation yesterday, but I think he is de-stressing a little.  He truly has so much weight on his shoulders, to provide for us, as we agreed that I would be a stay at home mom.  So he has to get a job, find us a house, and try to take care of all of our financial needs... and medical needs too, since this pregnancy hasn't started out the greatest that is a worry, and my last birth was a c-section so that worries him too, and F has to see a neurologist and if they find out she has what they are suggesting she might then she will need an MRI every year for the rest of her life.... that is a lot of pressure...
BUT... I really think that God has a plan, and I have hope in Him, and in his power, and in Philippians 4:6-9  Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy-meditate on these things. The things with you learned and received and heard and saw in my, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.

These are the promises I will stand on!  I love that my God has a plan, and that *I* don't have to make the plan, but just follow the blueprints.

Losing it, again.

These bands probably wont come off until sometime later today.  I'm not in a hospital, I'm at home.  But these bands are among very few items that will help me to remember that life starts and sometimes ends without anyone noticing, and that isn't what I want for any member of my family.  Even if I never hold my baby in my arms, I hold it in my heart, and I will keep these bracelets in a special place, because they represent a life that may not get a chance.
I might cry just writing this entry, so I'm sorry if I give you tears of your own.  The day before yesterday while cooking and cleaning for my beautiful F and Lovey C I started what I assumed to be my period.  I counted the days since my last one, only 14... strange. If you know much about the female reproductive system you will be aware that most women have a 28 day cycle.  Mine is usually 29 but occasionally is more or less than that, so I didn't think about it.  I made a wonderful soup, cheeseburger potato soup, it was super yummy, put F to bed, P put C to bed, which is a pretty normal routine, but I had a killer headache and couldn't seem to focus well.  I had one the night before, and early that morning and was beginning to think I was going to have migranes the rest of my life. 
That evening as I was shutting down the computer and getting ready to go to bed my son C woke up, I felt that familiar little trickle and knew I would need to go to the bathroom very soon, I helped C use the potty, tucked him back into bed and went to my bathroom.  (I'm sorry for the gross details to follow please skip the rest of this and the entire next paragraph if you don't want to know). By the time I arrived in my own bathroom I had not only saturated my pad, but also my underwear and pants, and the contents were running down my legs.  It was disgusting.  I had to wake P who was already sleeping to get me some things.
I changed my clothes and laid down in bed a little concerned about what had just happened and in denial that it would happen again.  I managed to sleep a little until I woke up at midnight feeling odd.  I ran my hand under my bottom (outside of my clothes) to 'check' and my hand was covered in blood.  EWWW... again cleaned myself up and had P get me some things.  The sheet was covered, the mattress pad soaked through, the mattress has a red circle.... After cleaning up I called my doctor and while I waited for a return call I played around on facebook.  The on-call physician called me back, had me check my eyes for anemia, and then said that I was probably ok to wait until morning but that if I needed to call her again to go ahead and do so, but to make an appointment the next morning with my Doctor.  At 1:40am I woke to the same thing again, this time I made it to the bathroom before I was in too much danger, but lost a lot of blood.  The next time was at 2:50am.   Why didn't I just go to the doctor then?  Because I didn't want to wake the kids, didn't know anyone who could take care of them at that time of night and didn't want to wake P, and because I was in denial.
at 7:30am I called and scheduled an appointment, their earliest wasn't until 11am.  I got a babysitter, and tried to eat breakfast, it went down, that is all I'm saying.  I was so weak from all the bleeding that I could hardly walk to the car.  When we arrived at the parking garage I began to bleed again and had to send Patrick to get me a wheelchair because I knew I'd never make it to the office without making a HUGE mess.  I was so weak I couldn't feel stupid in that chair... We got to the dr and I went straight to the bathroom.  We were checked in a while before our appointment even.  I sat shivering on the bed wrapped in my sweater looking very pale.
The nurse practitioner had my blood pressure taken while sitting, then laying, then sitting then standing, my pulse was taken at all these times too.  And then she send me (with a nurse wheeling me over, either so that they could have their wheelchair back, or so that she knew I got in over there) to the ER across the road. 
At the ER they did the blood pressure again, then they drew some blood, and I fainted and apparently convulsed, nurses came from everywhere... I warned them I already felt like fainting and regularly do when having my blood drawn.  They gave me oxygen and checked all my stats again. Then left us for a long time.
The nurse returned to look at my test results, all my levels were normal, but the pregnancy test had not returned yet so she couldn't tell me if I was miscarrying.  Denial runs strong in the little blood I still carried in my body... I just knew I wasn't pregnant.. I mean look at the signs... my last period started on Dec 21st, I have a normal 29 day cycle, the earliest I've ever ovulated is day 13 and that was last month, normally I ovulate on day 20 (I know all this because I had been charting until this last month when I decided that I couldn't handle the stress and gave my birth control up to P and God.).  I was only on day 14 now... so even if I ovulated on day 13 it would be too early to find out anything on a blood test as the baby wouldn't have implanted yet.
The Doctor came in and said "you know you're pregnant right, I mean you had to have known."  No, NO I didn't know... how could I have known, my last cycle was Dec 21st! I'm pregnant?!?  That means I'm probably miscarrying... and he says it like he means congratulations, how is this congratulatory?  You tell me in one sentence congrats you are pregnant, oh by the way, you are not going to be for long... you might have already passed the baby... These are not the doctors words but rather my thoughts.  The doctor was actually very nice. He ordered an ultrasound abdominal and vaginal, I told him that I needed a woman for that, he said it depended on who was on staff, I told him he could find a woman and he smiled and said he'd see what he could do.  A woman came in, did the ultrasound but like all techs do told me absolutely nothing, and left a lot of my questions to be answered by my imagination.  Which didn't help anything really.
The doctor came back... grim prognosis. He informed me that based on the level of HcG in my blood at this point there should be some sort of sac, or even a baby on the ultrasound, but there wasn't, anything, anywhere... even the tech has said she didn't see anything because I told her if she did I wanted to see it.  He also said that my lining looked ok, but a little thin for the level of HcG I had.  He asked if I had seen any type of tissue in the toilet or on my pads, I had not, but I had felt clots or something similar passing and had tried to look, but couldn't see and wasn't about to dig around in my toilet.  He then preformed a full scale investigation of my pelvis.... I cried before he even started... there have now been 3 men to see that area of my body, and I only ever wanted one to... I mean this as an adult, not as a baby have diaper changes. My husband I feel should be the only one, but I had an ultrasound tech when I was pregnant with F that was male, and now this doctor.  He didn't ask me why I was crying, he probably assumed that it was because I was probably loosing my baby.  Really the whole time I wanted to tell him that I wasn't a car, I was a person, and that I wanted a woman!  He said that he needed to remove some clots that were actually holding my cervix open.  I think that may have been the turn around point.  Since that time the bleeding has really tapered off
They sent me home, and asked that I have a follow up with blood work today with my own doctor.  I have scheduled the appointment for 2:45pm.  P has gotten permission to get out of work early for the appointment, and a friend of ours has agreed to take the kids for us. 
In the mean time, I'm praying that God has taken control of my heart, this baby, and our situation.  Yesterday after grieving a little I got on Facebook and saw that Jessica Joy Rees passed away (she is a sweet little girl who was fighting two brain tumors and helping spread the joy to other kids with cancer through a program called joy jars, and through NEGU, which is Never Ever Give Up.... she had such an amazing mission, and is now in heaven, if you feel like checking out her mission please look her up on Facebook), that a friend whose husband had been praying for work finally got an answer to those prayers, and several other things that at the moment I can't remember, but all sad, happy, and mysterious. The fact is, no mater what happens in MY life, the loss of my perfect birth, the loss of my dog, the possible loss of this baby, God is working his will all over the place... so many people following God's will, so many experiencing loss and gain... I'm not the center of it all, and I don't want to be.  I'm not sure how, but that comforts me, that God is still working all over.
No matter how comforted that makes me feel, I still feel that if I really lost this baby I want to make sure that even if I'm the only one who thinks of it, it will be remembered.   I'm trying to think of something to call it, probably not a real name since I don't know what gender it would have been, but something cute, like bean, or sweetpea.... I have not decided yet, and probably wont until after I get the results back from my blood work later today.  Feel free to make suggestions if you have a good one... and please if you are reading this, keep me in your prayers.

by the way, I never intended this blog to be a list of my woes, it was meant to be a life time journey of the battles that I have won... and I guess you have to go through the battle in order to win it, so for now you are seeing the battles.... I'll get to the victory part eventually I promise! 

Buried and gone

P took our dog up to be buried in his sister's yard, and I have been crying so much and needing a little break, not just from the dog issue, but more from ALL the things going on lately, and before he left he threw some new thoughts at me.... I hate that sort of timing, but they were very valid thoughts...
P's getting out of the military, we are moving, and until yesterday our thoughts of moving were TOTALLY focused on going to Oklahoma, even though both of our families have been pressuring us to move closer to family.  We have friends in Oklahoma who are very much like family.  There are a lot of job opportunities in Oklahoma in the area that P has worked for the last 7 years, so it seems like the most logical choice when compared to the areas where our families live.
His family up in Merced, there is no need for an aircraft mechanic there, though his step dad is a doctor and could guarantee him a job working in his office (it probably wouldn't pay the bills that well though).  And his family and I are not totally on the same wave length, we often have VERY different ideas of the lifestyle we should live.  I accept them, and I think they accept me, but it would be hard for me to be there all the time, especially since when we are there I lose my husband to them.
My family lives in Michigan, they are spread out all over the place so we could really live anywhere in the state and not be too close, but be close enough to ask for help if we wanted it, however I'm not particularly proud of my extended family and have very few friends left in Michigan.  Let me clarify, my mom and dad are doing great and we maintain a great relationship, my sister and four brothers and I have good relationships though sort of distant, but my Sister-in-law left my brother and they are in the midst of a divorce, and their poor kids are being shuffled around.  My cousin and her husband are separated.  My best friend's sister who I grew up with is separated and seeking a divorce. The economy sucks, and no one has jobs, (though that is turning around and there are actually some opportunities for aircraft mechanics in Michigan).  The few friends I do have in Michigan are both christian, but I don't think either of them would be particularly great at encouraging great Godly relationships, for completely different reasons.  Women in Michigan tend to put their husbands down BADLY. And support systems are weak there.  I mean you have your family, but I've never experienced a friendly relationship with anyone who brought me up as a christian and encouraged me with biblical advice.  This all could be because my relationships were built in high school and most of them I was the sort of spiritual counselor.  And unfortunately I never was able to make good friends in the churches I attended.
I'm so lost, I mean P's up there burying our dog and we've realized that we do need help, I mean we've known that, but we have done fine without that sort of help so far.  but the kind of help I've grown accustomed to (great Godly and spiritual encouragement) are not available where the other kind of help we would like is available.  You know when you are having a really bad day and you just need a time out and you call your mom and drop the kids off and get a time out.  The downfall of having only the people your own age around is that they all have busy days, hard schedules and most of them work now days, even the ones with kids.  And those who don't work have kids and have their hands pretty full as well.  So P says he's going to pray about it.  He's got a lot to figure out in a very short amount of time cause we bought him tickets to go to Oklahoma and buy us a house on Jan. 9th.
Too much to think about... and I told him I really can't even think about house work (I'm just barely getting it done) cause my mind is too filled with grief, now we have a MUCH bigger thing to think about. 

December is a time to remember

She always made sure our blind dog (prissy) ate first

She sat before coming into the house

tolerated and LOVED our son C

Tristen, spring of 2011 I miss you girl!

The saddest thing I could ever imagine happened yesterday.  I don't even know how best to chronicle the events of this Christmas, it was both a great and horrible holiday for our family.
I should start by telling you about the one we lost.
Tristen, born the week of 4-14-07 (the day P and I were married) came to be with us as a member of our family at ten weeks old.  I already had an ache to have a baby, after such a short time being married.  I think my issue was the post wedding let down.  After spending months with that being my only focus I finally had gotten married and had nothing new to look forward to and fell into a sort of depression.  I should have been uber happy, but I wasn't.  We moved into a bigger house, and it hit even harder, I ended up quitting my job and Tristen got me through it.
I was walking out of the retail store I worked at one evening, on my way home and saw a truck with a sign posted on the side and a kennel full of terriors.  I have a small terrier chihuahua mix and had no interest in getting another little dog, but then I saw a note on the sign that said they had one lab/chow mix puppy for $20.  I asked if the puppy was still availible and the people explained that she wasn't actually their dog but their neighbors and that they didn't know much about her, but that she seemed friendly and was the only one left.  I asked to hold her and she was just this big ball of fluff.  A soft  long haired baby.  I called P and asked him if he wanted a sweet little puppy, and he reluctantly and excidedly agreed that I could write the check....
We have often said that it was the best $20 we ever spent.
Unfortunately it was friday night and that is the night we had bible study, so the poor baby had to spend her first evening at a new house alone.  We came home to a puppy covered in her own poo, we wondered if we had done the right thing bringing her home, and she cried all night when we tried to sleep that night.
The crying lasted a few days, we bought her a bigger kennel as we knew it wouldn't be long and she wouldn't fit in Prissy the chihuahua's kennel anymore.  Turned the tv on at night to keep her company, and locked her in the kitchen anytime we left the house so she had room to move and eat and drink.
She potty trained SO QUICKLY!  She learned that outside was where it all went but then also learned that wires were fun to chew on.  It took awhile to get her over that habit, we lost a lamp or two, and the cable for tv outside suffered major damage (good thing we didn't need it!).
One day as I was cooking some hamburger helper for dinner she came and sat next to me at the foot of the stove, and then unprompted 'begged' for food.  I was so amazed I started feeding her hamburger from the pan to get her to do it again, and by the time dinner was done she pretty much knew how to do the trick on command and I was able to show P when he got home from work.  That was the start of a long journey that ended all too soon.
When Tristen was nearly 2 we brought C home with us, I was a little worried about her reaction to him so I made sure that P carried him in a few minutes after I came in the door, it was cold and wintery so it wasn't as long as I had read it should have been but we couldn't leave C outside in the cold so I just made sure to greet my puppy before I let on that we brought someone else home.  When she saw that sweet squishy little baby she looked at him for a half second before sneaking a quick kiss on his cheek and running away.  I had nothing to worry about!  She was a perfect big sister to our sweet baby boy!
Before C was even conceived we brought a child to the house because knowing Tristen was a Chow and that they could become very teritorial we wanted to socialize her as much as possible.  The first time she saw a child was hilarious!  Abby was about 3 years old, she came to the back yard with me to see our new puppy and she was so excited to see her, until Tristen saw Abby.  Tristen hid behind my legs and wouldn't come out, Abby lost interest and became frightened herself.
Her experience with children was limited since we didn't have any in the beginning.  We took her to socialize with a friends dog when she was about 4 or 5 months old and Abby was there again.  Abby was a bit nervous so she stood against the wall on the far side of our friends living room and didn't move.  At first Tristen didn't notice her... she was checking out the other dogs (a dog that would become her best friend later).  then suddenly she noticed Abby... she turned fully toward Abby and stood stark still... then Abby bent her knee... bent her knee!  and Tristen took off running like she was terrified!
Eventually she lost her fear of children and did great with our friends daughter Abby. Tristen learned all sorts of tricks and the rules of the house.  She was the smartest dog I've ever met.  She could sit, lay, roll over, beg, stand, dance, and spin around on command.  We had so many other tricks we hoped to teach her, but along came children and the process slowed, P only just taught her to spin around last year.
I have so many memories of her I could go on forever. But for the sake of my point in this entry I'll skip along to the end of the story.
Monday I noticed that every time I patted Tristen's head she would yipe.  I wasn't sure what was going on, but then on Thursday I also noticed she would not put much weight on her left hind leg.  I thought perhaps that was why she had yiped when I touched her head, maybe I was throwing her off balance and it was hurting her leg to put the extra pressure on it.  I felt her all over, head, neck, leg, paw, checked her fur for burrs, and any indication that something was causing her pain and could find nothing.  I took her to the vet, one of them wanted $52 just for the office visit and couldn't tell me how much an x-ray would be if she needed one.  I decided to take her to Banfield (at Petsmart).  The beginning and the end.
They had told me they would be able to take her as a walk-in so long as I got there before noon.  I couldn't manage any earlier than 11:45am, and when I arrived they informed me that they couldn't take her.  I was frustrated and decided that she seemed ok that day (Tuesday) and took her home.  When we got home she jumped from the car like nothing was going on and I was relieved thinking that she might have sprained her leg and that it was fine now and we were ok.
The next few days were uneventful but then Christmas Eve (Friday) P let Tristen out to go potty and then noticed she was staring into the glass sliding door with her head cocked to the side and drool running down her face.  She never drools.  I had noticed over the last few days she stared through that door a lot, in a sort of weird way.  So when I looked over I didn't notice the drool at first and thought P was just telling me about her looking through the door which I agreed was odd. Then I noticed the drool and knew something terrible was wrong.
We assumed she had a stroke.  The vet after checking her out said it was more likely a brain tumor.  They recommended an MRI to find out and then possibly surgery... the MRI alone would have cost us $2500 and I had been concerned about the $52 office visit a few days before.  We decided that if it had been a stroke we would just pray that she got better and that it wouldn't happen again and she'd be ok... we took her home.  She was off balance her face still drooped on the right side and her right eye was now blind, but the vet said there was a chance all of her functions would return. I looked up the signs and symptoms on the internet and found out that it is super rare for dogs to have strokes, and that what she was experiencing was more likely 'old dog' syndrome, except that Tristen isn't old, she wasn't even 5 yet, or a brain tumor (like the vet said).  We were not willing to accept the brain tumor diagnosis, she was so young, and had so much life to live.
Sunday (christmas) we noticed that Tristen's balance was getting worse and she wasn't eating.  I gave her some eggs that evening and she took about 5 minutes to eat them but got them down and kept them down.  Monday morning I brought her kennel to the dinning room and tried to rig a bowl of water to be elevated but not spill if she bumped it.  I had read elevating food and water would make it easier for her to keep her balance and be able to eat without getting sick or nauseous.  She manged to drink a little and then spilled my spill proof bowl.  I tried cleaning it up and she got out of the kennel and stumbled around the living room and laid down behind P's new recliner.  I got her back in the Kennel and sat down to do some more research on what we could do to help her.  Then F started playing with the door of the kennel and the little darling let Tristen out again.  I gave F a graham cracker and sat her on her daddy's lap to eat it without getting into more trouble.  P was on the phone with his mother who was giving us all sorts of ideas as to how Tristen was probably kicked in the head (not even possible since I'm with her all the time and it never happened).  I was getting annoyed that it seemed P didn't want to talk to me about what was happening.  Then he snapped at me, then C, then me again and I couldn't handle it.  I left saying I was going to take care of the neighbor's dogs (they were out of town and I was feeding the dogs and letting them out for them).  As I was trying to let the neighbors dogs out and feed them my phone rang, I was busy and annoyed so I didn't answer my phone. It rang again, I answered and P says "she had a stroke!  She was kicking and she had a stroke."  I asked "do you mean a seizure?" he said yes and I bawled said I'd be home in a minute.  It was 10 am.
The vet prescribed blood tests, IV fluids, and steroids.  We agree'd but knew even then that we'd be saying good bye to her soon.  A few hours later they called with the results of the blood test.  She wasn't having clotting issues, so that ruled out the possibility of a blood clot in her brain.  her white cell count was high but it could be due to the stress her body was under, or possibly an infection, they gave her some antibiotics and said they'd keep her until 7pm and we could pick her up at that time along with a two week supply of antibiotics and steroids... there was a small chance Tristen had menengitis.  At 5pm Tristen had another seizure, the vet called and explained the situation to Patrick.  She wasn't doing well, the treatment should have prevented the second seizure, she didnt' have menengitis, if we wanted to continue to treat her the next option was the original MRI.  We went in to the vet and told them we were not going to put her through this anymore.  They gave her to us on a pet gurney so we could say goodbye.  She was sedated but still very much with us.  She was sleepy and as she started to close her eyes we (not knowing anything about how they put dogs down) thought perhaps she had already been given the shot and I freaked... I couldn't watch her die.. I watched my grandmother die when they pulled the tubes from her after suffering from staff infection, I couldn't do that again... I had prayed for a miracle that time, this time I just wanted my dog to stop hurting.  I left the room and wandered around petsmart looking for something I could remember my baby by.  I found nothing.
 P called his first class petty officer (a jerk) who told him he could NOT have time off to go and bury our baby.  I got so mad my heart was racing and I could hardly breathe I went and got his phone and called the idiot myself and begged, cried and pleaded that the man reconsider, but it was all said to a voicemail.  He called back but refused to talk to me.  Said I needed P to call him when he got a chance. I wandered some more and then decided to return to the room, at this point I knew that they had given her the shot and that she might be breathing her last when I went into the room.  As I opened the door it hit the shoes of the vet, and she sat up and said "she's gone" in a calm gentle voice, returning her stethoscope to her neck.  I petted my sweet girl one more time and told her how wonderful she had been to us, and how happy I was to have been part of her life.  I shocked myself, I knew she was dead, but I still petted her... P hugged her.  He said after we climbed into bed that night that as he had put her in the bag that would have to hold her until THURSDAY when he can drive her up to Merced to be buried, that he was still petting her, and even considered keeping a lock of her hair, but decided that eventually we would all have to move on and that he wouldn't do it.
We spent the evening crying and remembering our dog, all of the things we had done together, the things we hadn't done but said we would... and how she can never be replaced... she was the most extrodinary animal we've ever met, and you just can't replace an animal like that.
I miss you Tristen!

* Three of these photos (1,2,4) were taken by my dear friend Alison

I am ok.

I feel so peaceful today, and this week about certain parts of my life.. I just thought I would mention that!  Merry Christmas!