For those of you who were afraid we had dropped off the planet, never fear! We are still here! And much has changed since our last update. I am not sure where to start, or where this will end. It may end up being a series of updates. We will see.
I will start with February. In a three week period, we had a series of answers to prayer. Fred got a raise at work, which was very helpful, and he continues to learn and grow a lot in his job. I got a job on the medical-surgical floor at the hospital (didn’t start until April though). We found and moved to a cheaper apartment with wonderful landlords (we were blessed by our first landlord also). We found out that we were pregnant.
At the same time as these blessings were poured out, the hard things of life continued. My mom had a series of seizures in February, caused by high blood pressure from a cancer medication, that sent her to the neurological ICU for several days. She had been declared cancer free for the second time on Christmas Eve, 2012, but was on a cancer inhibitor to try and prevent further relapses. This backfired when the seizures occurred in the spring and it took a couple of months to get her blood pressure consistently into safe range.
May came, bringing relief from the nausea of pregnancy, an increase in energy, sunshine and longer days. I was loving my new job and learning more every day. Then I started spotting at 12 weeks gestation. Five days later we lost the baby, I bled too much and had a D&C on the first morning of week 13. Two days later we celebrated Mother’s Day. I continue to struggle with the hole left by this child that I never really met, but God has held us through this and continues to demonstrate His goodness to His children.
May was also the month when Mom started to have abdominal symptoms again. After six weeks of not being able to keep food down, after losing around 20 pounds, June brought a diagnosis of yet another return of cancer. Our hearts plummeted. She has a bowel obstruction that will most likely never resolve. She is on chemo again, a new-for-her chemo that she receives once a month. TPN (total parenteral nutrition) was restarted and Mom gained some weight back. Then, after two rounds of chemo, the pain began to get worse again. Mom was sent to the emergency room and we received a call that she was dying. Soon. This was two weeks ago. Fred and I flew down and family gathered. Thank God, her crash appears to have been caused by a urinary tract infection that is responding well to antibiotics. However, her oncologist has said that she probably has only weeks to months left to live. Fred is back at work in Kodiak. One of my brothers and his wife are leaving tomorrow for work on the east coast. I am planning to leave later this week, depending on how Mom does in the next few days. Our family is still trying to process our new reality. Dad is the primary caregiver and is running on empty. My youngest brother and sister and about to start their sophomore and senior year of high school. Since they are home schooled, I will help Dad get their curriculum in order before I leave. Today we are talking to hospice. Though this is an exceedingly difficult time, we continue to be blessed by the love and prayers of many people here and elsewhere.
One summer highlight was a visit from Fred’s parents. Unfortunately it was cut short by Mom’s crisis and our abrupt departure. Even with the shortening, we had a good visit and enjoyed showing them around the island, introducing them to our friends, and just resting together. The stereotypes about in-law problems do not apply at all to our families! It is a joy to have two sets of parents who love us both dearly and are wholly supportive of us.
Currently we are functioning on a day-to-day basis. The future feels even more unknown that normal, as we are reminded just how little control we have of life. Even in the uncertainty, there are smiles and laughter. God has blessed us with an inordinate amount of sunshine this summer in Kodiak and Port Angeles. Time with family always means time of music, games and laughter. Fear lurks on the edges and tears are always just below the surface, but “I know Who holds tomorrow, and I know Who holds my hand.” There is comfort in the knowledge that our days are in His hands. God holds me, but He also holds my mom and dad, my siblings and grandparents. Even as the hard times roll over us like storms on the ocean, we are still in good hands. May you be filled with the same assurance as you go through this week!