Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial Day

Today was a beautiful day in East Tennessee. The temperatures were more moderate than they have been (low 80's) and the skies were blue with hardly a cloud in the sky until afternoon, when we had a sudden cloud burst.

Wanda called earlier in the day and it was fun to talk with her and she reminded me of a few Memorial Days when we were in Germany, trips to Verdunne, Bastogne, and Luxembourg. I had a chance to walk down memory lane as I recalled the first time I visited Verdunne with my parents and brothers, as a teen. Verdunne, France was the site of horrific fighting during World War I and has deep ruts and craters that are camouflaged by the heavy forest that is encroaching upon this hallowed ground. It wasn't until years later when Rich and I took the kids to see it that I could fathom the significance of this cratering of the earth - that these were the pock marks of heavy artillery, hand grenades, and bombs - the scars of human struggle against tyranny and domination - the fight for freedom. It was gratifying to watch my children have the same reaction that me, my brothers and parents had when we saw all the graves and walked through the memorial - but the real horror of war became became even more clear to us, and to all who still visit, when we saw a large marble structure, shaped like a coffin, with sides and ends made of glass, wherein the remains of all of those for whom there was no ability to identify, their arms, legs, fingers, skulls, ribs, feet are displayed. I cannot even imagine what it was like to pick up the pieces of their mangled bodies that littered this sacred ground and to place them in that tomb. It is at once both grotesque and humbling. I don't think there is even a way to know how many men are entombed there. It is a stark reminder of the price of war. How many sons, dads, brothers, uncles, and even grandfathers paid the ultimate price?

Over the course of my years in Europe we visited Bastogne many times. It was the town at the heart of the Battle of the Bulge during World War II, liberated by the blood of American soldiers and, still to this day, the people of Bastogne honor them, those who so valiantly sacrificed themselves for them. Truly, the Savior's words, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" ring so true here. When I consider the real cost of so many lives to liberate so many people I am in awe of their courage, their dedication, their humanity.

A trip to Luxembourg is always a sobering reminder of the price that so many have paid. Thousands of white granite headstones, row after row after row, with small American flags at the base, each denoting the life given on behalf of our nation and our people. It would seem a small thing to stop and remember their sacrifice on Memorial Day.

The other day we were driving through Knoxville and a car in front of us had a license plate that indicated the owner was a "gold star" mom. That alone caught my attention - here was someone who knew first hand the sacrifice of her beloved son, given in the line of duty and love. Another bumper sticker also caught my attention though. It read, "If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you can read this in English, thank a veteran." It was a sobering reminder of how many men and women, over the course of our history, have contributed to securing my freedoms and my way of life. And it was also a stark reminder of how many people around the world owe their lives and freedoms to our country and its' military as well.

Marsha and Blair had driven up from Albany, Georgia for the weekend and we had a great time with them. Yesterday we took a trip out to the cemetery that Mom Bainbridge was buried in and put flowers on the grave and discussed such things as whether or not to plant permanent miniature rose bushes there and put a bench nearby.

Today Rich had the idea to go and visit the National Cemetery in Knoxville and we all decided to go. Many, many of the men interred there died during the Civil War, in battles in the area. Men and women from the Spanish American War, World War I and II, the Korean War, the Viet Nam War, and from our current, ongoing wars are represented in this cemetery. Each grave was marked with a small American flag. We had the opportunity to remember and to be grateful for their service. And, indeed, I had the opportunity to remember how many of the people I love have given service to our nation in the armed forces. I wish to thank them and to honor them. Both Rich and I have uncles, Uncle Romanus and Uncle Gale who lost their lives in battle. Our fathers both served. Two of Rich's brothers and his sister have served in the Navy, Rich served in the Air Force, our son, Joey, currently serves in the Air Force and our other two sons - Robert, served in the Army, and Dan currently serves in the Air Force.

When I was a teen I sang in the ward choir. One year we sang The Battle Hymn of the Republic. It was a stirring rendition and I especially loved the third verse:
In the beauty of the lilies,
Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom
That transfigures you and me.
As he died to make men holy,
Let us live to make men free,
While God is marching on.
I am reminded of the promises that the Lord has made to the people who inhabit this great land. I know that it is only by our righteousness that we can secure these blessings and it seems to me that we are about to careen off a cliff if something doesn't happen soon to help us remember our Lord and his commandments. Perhaps the thing that has to happen is for us to live to make men free. Perhaps we do that in some measure by serving in the armed forces. But in reality - we do that by living and doing as our Father in Heaven wants us to, by sharing the gospel, and becoming a force for good in our homes, our neighborhoods, our communities, and our nation. Each of us can do that. Each of us must do that. Because, while so many in the world do not believe in God or in His statutes - the reality is that He is marching on - and His judgments are sure - and we, who have been so blessed by the gospel and the atonement of our Savior can give our lives to help others become free to choose liberty and eternal life.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

God and the Gym

Today I had a rather odd, although very humbling experience. I have been going to the gym in Clinton now for about 6 weeks. I haven't missed a day and am finding that I am getting stronger and have greater flexibility and balance - all pluses if you ask me. And, I continue to lose weight and inches - never mind that it will be months before it shows. LOL

The people who go there are an interesting mix. Since the gym is affiliated with the therapy center many patients transfer to the gym when their therapy is over - there are people who have MS, stroke recovery, knee and hip replacement, and anything else that seems to need therapy. Many of these patients are older - probably in their 70's. They all seem to know one another and it is almost like a social club. There are young people who come in - they seem to gravitate to the yoga and pilates classes and other such activities. There is a pretty good group of people who are physically fit and have been doing this for years - it is obvious that it has been a way of life. And then, there are the ME's - people who are morbidly obese, with aches, pains, and illnesses that the obesity is aggravating and they are trying to take back their lives.

There is a lady that is in one of the water aerobics classes that is turning 95 on Friday. She was a math teacher at one of the high schools here for years. She retired in 1976. She drives herself and in every way seems capable and able.

There is a gentleman that often uses the equipment next to mine who is 98. His daughter brings him in everyday- she assists him in getting into the seat of the recumbent bike - and then goes and exercises herself. He pedals away for a full 30 minutes, at a pretty good pace, all the while he is talking to other patrons. He is lucid, hears well, and in every way seems to have much more life in him.

Another gentleman comes in daily as well - now he reminds me of the energizer bunny. He works the Nu-Step machine (an aerobic exerciser that is easier on the joints than the bike - it is what I use) twice each day for about 30 minutes at a time. He will use the tread mill, the elliptical, the rowing machine, and every piece of strength training equipment in the gym. He isn't a casual exerciser either - he goes at it full tilt. He is boisterous, friendly, and quite gregarious. He seems to know everyone in the place by name and everyone seems to know him.

Anyway - today I arrived at a time when there weren't many people in the gym - just he and I. We were using the Nu-Steps and I had my I-touch going with a conference talk on when this gentleman started talking to me. I took out the ear piece from my ear and proceeded to answer his questions and was quite surprised when he called me by my name. He wanted to know where I lived, where we had moved from, what my husband did for a living, etc. And then he said, "I want you to know that you are inspiring to me and everyone else here. I told my daughter in Nashville about you. She has been going through a nasty divorce and has put on quite a bit of weight."

I was caught completely off guard and kind of laughed nervously and then said, "tell her to lose it quickly before she gets to be big like me and it takes so much effort to get it off! LOL"

He responded by saying, "Well, I told her about you, coming every day and working out like the devil. I told her that you're looking good and that if you can do, so can she! All it will take is some dedication and commitment like you have."

I was so flustered I didn't know what to say - except "thank you!" It was just an odd thing to have happen - but as I said before, very humbling. I am grateful for his support and for voicing it. But it has caused me to wonder about the sphere of influence that we have. I suppose that sphere is far greater than we will ever know, ever can know, for good and for bad. And what he doesn't know is the battle I had within myself to even go there the first time - that basically I am a coward! LOL

Ironically the leaders of the church have been asking us to use our influence to make that which is good popular and that which is bad unpopular - and while I have always known that we have some influence - I hadn't ever really considered that I had any influence to speak of - except for perhaps with my children - and I am not even sure about that! LOL I am not suggesting in any way that my going to the gym and working to lose weight and get healthy will really change anyone else's life but my own - but I really hadn't realized that people really are watching us in everything we do, everyday. I have lived in my own little bubble for so long that I guess I just thought that I was invisible or blended in with the scenery - now that is rich irony considering how much weight I have to lose! LOL But seriously, how much good could I do if I would just open my mouth? How many times have I passed up an opportunity to share the gospel because I have been in my own world rather than in the world around me? What would my sphere of influence be if all of my actions were congruent to the things that I know to be true? How much damage have I caused when my actions haven't reflected well on the Church, its' people, or even the Lord? Perhaps that is why this was such a humbling experience - because my eyes have been opened to the knowledge that in every way I need to reflect my Heavenly Father's love for His children, His gospel, and His church. I do love my Heavenly Father and I have really always tried to keep His commandments and to live my life according to the gospel - but I have done so very imperfectly and have not always done the right thing even though I may have been trying to do it. Perhaps today and this gentleman's comments were one of the Lord's very many tender mercies in my life that will help me continue to try to master and conform my life more perfectly to my Master's. My mom used to have a favorite saying on her wall - "Please be patient with me - God isn't finished with me yet!" There could be no truer statement than that about me!

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Wanda Marie Bainbridge Husted

Today I have the opportunity to pay tribute to our oldest child, the child my father says made him old TWICE! She was the first to make him a grandfather AND then she was the first to make him a great-grandfather! LOL

From the time that Rich and I were married in April 1973 we wanted children. Month after month we were disappointed. In the early part of 1974 we received orders to move to Australia. We were very excited and wanting to have everything in order, we made appointments in June of that year with our Stake President to have our temple recommend renewed, just before we left. After our private interviews he brought us together to talk for a few minutes. He asked us about our future plans and whether or not we wanted children. Rich assured him that we did but that it just hadn't happened yet. Then he surprised both of us by asking if we knew how. I think it is one of the only times that I have ever seen Rich blush - he turned beet red and stammered, "Well, I think we do." To which the Stake President responded with, "I don't mean that. This is what you do: you fast together and then you give your wife a blessing. Consummate the blessing and you will have your child. It is that simple." Rich and I left his office that evening and we decided that we would follow his counsel, after all, he was our priesthood leader. We left South Carolina a couple of days later and drove to Salt Lake, with a stop at Richards Gebar, Kansas for a TDY enroute. When we arrived in Salt Lake I was pretty sick - I had been given some medication for a kidney infection and was reacting to it badly. However, as the week passed, Rich and I decided that it was time to follow what the Stake President had directed. I think both Rich and I had thought that what the Stake President had told us would actually come to pass - but I don't think that either of us thought that it would be immediately.

We stayed in Salt Lake to visit family for the month before heading to Australia. It was a relaxing and enjoyable time - except that I was having stomach problems and not feeling well - I believed that it was probably due to my kidney problems and the medication. I was grouchy to the max - in fact - Rich couldn't do ANYTHING right! One evening we attended a baseball game that my brother, Chad, was playing in and Rich yelled at the ump. I was mortified and we had a huge fight...we stayed after the game and talked in our car (the police came and routed us out of the parking lot because they thought that we were involved in something else LOL - they didn't know that it was a fight!). I told Rich that I wanted a divorce. I just couldn't see us being married anymore. I was crying and very distraught. Rich was very patient and VERY rational. He said that if I didn't love him anymore then a divorce would be fine with him because he didn't want to stay in a relationship where he wasn't wanted or loved - and then he told me that he loved me and didn't want a divorce and if I did then I would have to write the letter to the 1st Presidency to request the cancellation of sealing. I thought about that for a moment and then realized I couldn't see the Prophet thinking that Rich's yelling at the ump at a baseball game was a good reason. Rich promised to be more temperate and I promised to try and not be so sensitive...we all know how that one has turned out! LOL We kissed and enjoyed the warmth of our true relationship - but my emotional and physical state just kept me roiled and we seemed to plow this ground over and over in the course of our stay.

In August we headed to southern California so that we could see Rich's family and so that we could ship our car before we flew up to Travis AFB for departure. I wasn't coping well with the stomach problems I was experiencing and my emotional state seemed to be tied to it. The day that we shipped our car we had gotten up early to drive to Long Beach. I was so miserable - but it was in such a non-descript way that I was having difficulty identifying the problem for myself. As we got the car prepped for shipping, did the paperwork, and dropped it off - we called for a cab to come pick us up (we were at a port in Long Beach). The cab never arrived...but my irritation and impatience again erupted - at poor Rich. He was at fault even when he didn't do anything wrong! LOL Again, that sure hasn't happend since! LOL

When we got to Travis to fly out it was early in the morning on a contracted flight. Wouldn't you know it - the plane was full to capacity and it was really hot - both contributing to my feelings of discomfort and uneasiness. But the thing that frustrated me the most was that my seat was broken and it wouldn't sit upright if you leaned against it! We told the stewardess but she urged me to just sit up because otherwise they would have to delay the flight to get another plane in and who knew when that would be. A five hour flight to Hawaii - I wasn't real thrilled about it - but I just complied even though my annoyance was increasing.

We arrived in Hawaii and stayed in billeting for the week that Rich had TDY there before heading to Australia. By this time I was really, really miserable. It was hot, humid, and the trade winds weren't blowing - all definitely Rich's fault!!!! LOL We rented a car to use while we were there and drove downtown for dinner at a recommended restaurant. I was starved. But when they brought the food I couldn't stomach the smell and I ended up in cold sweats and throwing up.... I was also exhausted. Every day Rich would waken me before he would head into the office and tell me that he would be back about 11 am and then he would be free for the day and we could go do some sightseeing - could I manage to be ready to do that? Every day he would come back at 11 am and I would be dead asleep. He would gently waken me and tell me that he would go back to the office for an hour or so and could I be ready to go then? I would drag myself out of the bed, try to shower and put on make-up, but I just wasn't coping.

Finally, about the third day there Rich was concerned enough - and probably annoyed enough - that he told me that he was taking me to the medical clinic to get to the bottom of what was wrong. I insisted that I didn't need to go but he was even more insistent that I did - no one was this sick for no reason. I told him that I just didn't feel well - I wasn't all that sick - I didn't even have a temp! To which he responded with, "either you go to the doctor and find out what is wrong or I am going on to Australia and you can find your own way back to the mainland because I am not going to take you with me like this!" He drove me there and I checked in at the desk, begrudgingly. When I got in to see the doctor he asked me lots of questions and listened carefully to my answers. He asked me if I could be pregnant and I told him, "NO!" He asked, "Why not?" And I told him that we had been married for nearly 17 months and it hadn't happened up til now so that couldn't be the answer. He looked at me like I had two heads - and logically - that might have been easier to explain than my bullheadedness - and then told me that if he had to bet his medical license he would bet that I was pregnant. I insisted that it couldn't be - so he performed a pelvic exam and told me the same thing. However, I wasn't convinced and so he ordered a pregnancy test. The lab was at Tripler Army Medical Center - across the island so Rich and I headed there...I wouldn't tell Rich about my visit with the doctor - just that I needed a test. After the test was taken we had to go back to the Air Force Medical Center to get the results...when we walked back in the medic at the desk congratulated Rich but he was completely in the dark about why he was being congratulated. And so the medic informed Rich that he was going to be a father and sent me back to the doctor who told me that what I was experiencing was some pretty rocky morning sickness that, in my case, was lasting 24/7 and gave me some medication to try and help with the symptoms.

The diagnosis seemed to be just what we both needed. It explained my sudden and extreme change in behavior, mood, and the physical problems as well. It also helped me realize that everything wasn't Rich's fault (although in a way it was LOL) and Rich's patience seemed to double, triple, and quadruple as he tried valiantly to deal with me, his possessed wife. That evening we took a romantic drive around the island - but I couldn't stay awake! LOL But I do remember with real fondness that Neil Sedaka's tune, Havin' My Baby played several times and each time it played it was as if there was a special connection between Rich and I - it was almost electric - I would be having His baby.

Over the course of the rest of the week we went to the Polynesian Cultural Center - but I got sick there. Then one day we went to the temple - but we were the last session of the day and they were closing the temple for vacation so they had turned off the air conditioning - Rich and I were the witness couple (our session was made of male missionaries and I was the only female in the session) and when I put the veil on and stood in the heat in the prayer circle I passed out. We went to a bowling alley for fun one evening - but I couldn't handle it. It seemed that pregnancy was going to last years instead of nine months!

One last memory about Hawaii - Rich had been eyeing some coconut palms outside billeting and finally he decided to get a few of the coconuts - he had heard that green coconut milk was good and he reasoned that I might enjoy some - so he collected 4-5 and brought them up to our room...but how to open them... He tried every way he could but just couldn't find a way to break through the thick husk...so finally he went down to the car and took out the tire iron and tried beating them into giving up their precious milk - to no avail! LOL It was a very kind thought though, Honey.

After the eventful week in Hawaii we boarded a cargo plane and took off for Australia using the ear wax the flight crew handed us to drown out the engines. The trip was done in 5 hour increments - 5 hours to Samoa, then 5 hours to Christchurch, New Zealand (we stayed the night there), 5 hours to Sydney, and 5 hours to our final destination of Woomera.

Woomera was an international military installation with people from England, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, France, Germany, America, Canada, and I don't even know where else. At one time there had been about 7-8000 people living there but when we were stationed there the numbers had dropped to about 2500. It was a small oasis in the middle of the outback - 500 miles from Adelaide and 150 miles from the nearest town, Port Augusta, to the south, and 500 miles from Ayer's Rock and the Aborigine communities to the north. It was a closed community but we could fly into it on a little commercial puddle-jumper that made a daily flight into Adelaide or drive the 150 miles of dirt road from Port Augusta...although a train did come close and provide fresh fruit and veggies, milk, meat, and supplies for the community once a week. The U.S. military also brought in a cargo plane once a week that brought mail and household goods, as well as transported personnel and families to and from the states. And since we had not known I was expecting when we sent our household goods we had to purchase most everything that we needed from Montgomery Wards, Sears, or J.C. Penney catalogs and have it shipped in. There were only a few phones in the community - and regular citizens didn't have them - but we could go out to a military unit once a week or so and call back to the states. Usually we just walked or rode bikes to one another's homes and to the town center that had a small butcher shop, small veggie shop, a small drygoods store and the grocery store (about the size of the average 7-11). The town also had a canteen, affectionately known as "the chew and spew" where you could purchase a "hamburger with the lot," french fries, and an ice cream. It also had a movie theater which showed movies on Friday and Saturday. There was a Catholic Church and a Protestant Church - we met for a time in a Women's Hall and then moved to the Catholic Church for the duration of our time there. Temperatures were very much like the southwest of our country - the 120's in the summer and 60-70's in the winter. You got to know people pretty quickly and it was a close-knit group.

The day that we arrived in Woomera we were amazed to find that the entire branch had come to the airport to meet us - we didn't know that we were even expected and had no idea how they could have known when we would arrive. We quickly learned that military personnel records had religious affiliation attached and so it was easy for the branch president to learn when new members were coming - and since there was only one plane in a week - it wasn't too hard to figure out which flight we would be on! LOL Our branch was very small - about 10 families most of the time - Americans, Brits, and Aussies. And when we first got there we weren't even classified as a branch - but were a "unit" that was "dependent" on the Wyalla branch from Wyalla - a town about 50 miles west of Port Augusta. Most of the brethren in the branch worked shifts - except for Rich - and there were a few time when he was the only Priesthood at church - when that happened he would conduct the meetings, bless and pass the sacrament, and do anything else that needed to be done.

Our first Sunday there Rich and I were called to be the children's Sunday School teachers and I was called to be the pianist. The next Sunday we were also called to be branch missionaries. The following Sunday I was called as Relief Society President. The Sunday after that Rich was called to be the Elder's Quorum President. We held these calling up until about two months before we left for the states. Needless to say - we got involved very quickly.

I was very grateful when I learned that the two women I had called as counselors were also pregnant and due near my own due date. Kathy was the branch president's wife and expecting her 4th and Marilyn was expecting her 3rd - they would prove to be very wonderful friends and great supports through our stay there.

For a few months we lived in temporary quarters, an apartment complex, until a house became available. Our "flat" was on the top floor and the ante-natal nurse for the hospital lived with her husband in the "flat" under ours. The morning sickness was really proving to get the best of me. I couldn't go to the grocery store without throwing up in the trash can outside, brush my teeth because the smell of the water would bring everything up, or even smell food cooking. Rich would often walk past the other apartments and smell the wonderful aromas coming from them and wonder what he would have - only to find that it would be the inevitable baked potato - it was all I could stomach. Gradually I did get to the point where I could eat hash browns and eggs, and even tomatoes - but that was months later. One day I was standing out on the balcony when I got a whiff of something that just shifted my gag reflex into high gear - up and over the balcony onto our neighbor's patio! Poor Rich - he went down and scrubbed it up because if I even came near the smell it would just send me into more convulsions...it was easier to take care of it himself. Bless his heart. He has done that more than most anyone I know - as it has continued to be a problem even if it was the kids throwing up - I couldn't get near it without repercussions.

By about 6 months I was beginning to feel much more human. We moved into a two bedroom home on Booromi St. and settled in quite nicely. But at 8 months my doctor, Dr. Robertson, decided that he needed to start thrice weekly deep intermucular injections of iron as I was so anemic. At 8 1/2 months he decided that I needed to go to Adelaide to have the baby as it appeared that the baby was going to be larger than normal and I was smaller than normal (pelvically) and he was concerned that the baby would get stuck in the birth canal and he would have no ability to do an emergency c-section. If it was a clear cut need for a c-section there would be no problem in scheduling it and having an anesthesiologist there - but he didn't want to do that because he believed that having the baby vaginally was best for all, if at all possible. Rich and I flew out the next morning and met with the doctor in Adelaide. He was about as personable as a wet fish and I wanted to go home. He had done all the x-rays of my pelvis and the baby's head to determine what was the best course of action - and had come to the same conclusion as Dr. Robertson - it was going to be chancy and he didn't want to induce because it would not give the normal hormones the chance to do their best effort in helping my pelvis, ligaments and tissue accomodate the baby. I really wanted to go home. We were there in Adelaide, a strange city, with no friends or family, no place to stay, no idea how long we would be there, and no idea how we were going to pay for it all or even if our insurance was going to cover the baby. So, that afternoon we boarded a flight back to Woomera and I knew that I wanted to have the baby there. But Dr. Robertson learned that we had come home and so he came to the house to try and explain what we were up against. We listened but I told him that I really wanted to have the baby there and if he didn't want to deliver it I could just go out into the donga and have it on a rock like the aborigines. He smiled and then tried again to impress upon me the urgency of our situation - in fact - the life and death circumstances that we would be in. Rich assured him that we would be back on the next plane in the morning and Dr. Robertson seemed glad that someone in the family had a rational head! However, I was in turmoil. I really didn't want to go back to Adelaide. Suddenly there was a knock at our door and a sweet sister from the branch was standing there - she had had a feeling that she needed to come by. I will always be grateful for her wisdom, courage, and faithfulness in listening to the spirit. She was a woman near my mother's age, with the same kind of gentle spirit. She listened to me, consoled me, and helped me recognize what I always knew but didn't want to do - that I needed to go back to Adelaide and to have the "wet fish" deliver our child so that both of us could be okay.

Rich and I did go back down the next morning. Returning to Woomera hadn't been such a bust either because it allowed Rich to investigate more fully what we would need to do in order to survive this without having to declare bankruptcy! LOL We found a small travel trailer in a trailer park that we could rent on a night to night basis. It had no bathroom in it but the park had communal bathrooms and showers. We would have a stove and tiny frige so we could be frugal about meals, even though we would have to buy groceries daily because of storage and not knowing when the baby would be coming. We had no car with us but the park was near public transportation so we could use the bus. The trailer had no sheets, blankets or towels so we did purchase some inexpensive ones to get by. Then we settled down to wait things out.

Two and a half weeks later I woke up at two in the morning and announced to Rich that I thought I was in labor and that I needed to go to the bathroom. He walked me down to them, we came back up, I went back to sleep - but Rich just couldn't settle down after that announcement LOL! By seven in the morning he was very keyed - but I told him that I needed to go shower and get ready to go to the hospital. He wanted to just go. But I wouldn't. So down to the showers we went...then got dressed...put on make-up...did my hair...and Rich was beginning to explode! I finally told him to call the cab - he was sooooo relieved. I felt like we were in an I Love Lucy episode! LOL

When we got to the hospital I was only 4 cm dilated. The doctor said that it could be hours and recommended that they put in an epidural in case they needed to do the c-section anyway and then he would break my water and see where things went. He told Rich that he probably ought to go get some lunch at a nearby restaurant because he might not have a chance later on. So they did the epidural, Rich went to lunch, and the dr. broke my water and left to care for other patients, and I was to get dressed in hospital clothes. Moments after the dr. left the nurse noted that the dr. hadn't written down how far dilated I was and so she would just check for reference...and when she did she uttered an expletive and said that I was at 10 cm - the baby was coming. Still in my street clothes, Wanda Marie Bainbridge was born at 2:10 in the afternoon on the 24th of March 1975. She weighed 8 lb. 2 oz., was 21" long and was perfect in every way. Rich was pretty jazzed when he called our parents and told them that they "would have a new granddaughter born tomorrow" - Australia is across the international dateline. LOL

One of my most cherished memories is of Rich peering into her isolet and saying with all wonder and awe, "I'm somebody's ancestor now!" He had long told me that he wouldn't change diapers - but he tickled my heart when he couldn't seem to wait to change hers. She truly made our love complete.

In Australia, at the time, it was common for new moms and babies to stay in the hospital at least a week and even then, many times they were transferred to a convalescent facility after that. However, our stay was being complicated by a pending nationwide transportation strike. Wanda had been born on Monday and the strike was scheduled to begin on Friday...we needed to get back to Woomera before the strike! We were able to prevail upon the doctors to let us go on Thursday IF we went back into the hospital at Woomera. This we agreed to and it became even more important as she was developing jaudice and needed light therapy. How happy we were when we were finally able to bring our little bundle home for good and begin our life as a little family.

Wanda was named after my grandmother, Wanda Bingham Roskelley, and Rich's mom, Marie Bainbridge. She was quite a peaceful baby, falling easily into a schedule of predictable naps and evening routines. She did spit up quite a bit, earning her knickname, "The Spitty-Up Kid." We adored her and loved being her mom and dad. When she was just beginning to walk around furniture and things she had her first real accident. She had crawled over to the stroller and pulled herself up and was trying to walk as it moved - but it moved more quickly than she could manage and she fell and it sliced her forehead. We rushed her to the hospital knowing that it would need stitches. I remember just feeling sick about it - I would have gladly changed places with her. I felt like I had failed her. She got five stitches there - right in the middle of her forehead - and the dr. assured us that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar. You really have to look closely to see it today!

We returned home to the states in August of 1976 when Wanda was just 17 months old. My folks had driven out to California so that they could meet her and then we drove down to So. California to introduce her to Rich's mom. My grandmother adored her - and she would often gloat a little the first few weeks we were home because Wanda wouldn't go to any woman - she would go to any guy - just not a woman - but she would go to my grandmother - because she had a secret weapon - a raspberry patch! Wanda loved raspberries! In fact - she still does! My mom just bided her time though, knowing that eventually Wanda would have no choice but to come to her because I would be going into the hospital to have Joey soon and Wanda would be staying with her. True to form, Wanda did not go to her at all until that time.

We purchased a little home in Layton, Utah and lived there for three years. During that time I wanted a piano badly. We had looked and looked but every one was more than we could afford. However, we determined that if we had two paper routes we could save our money and get one in about a year. Rich would throw the morning route before work so that I didn't have to get the babies up - and then he or I -and sometimes both of us would throw the evening route with the babies in the back seat in their car seats. Sometimes the box that we needed to put the paper in was on the passenger side of the car and if Rich or I were alone with the kids we could give a paper to Wanda and ask her to put it in the box - and she would do it. One day Rich had them out with him and he stopped at a little country store and bought them a popsicle. Wanda really liked that. The next time he asked her to put a paper in the box she refused. When Rich implored her to put it in the box she retorted with, "I NEED a popsicle!" She would not help out in any way, shape, or form until he promised to buy her a popsicle. LOL

When we had lived in Australia Wanda had been very healthy - not even really having a cold. However, when we came home it seemed that her immunity just wasn't up to tackling the germs here. She seemed to get everything! As September came to a close (Joey was just two weeks old) Wanda came down with a bug that just wouldn't give up - she was running a temp, vomiting and had diarhea. I took her to the doctor one morning but he said that there wasn't much to do but to watch her and if she got worse to bring her back. Early that afternoon she was screaming for anything to drink - it didn't matter what - she was thirsty - but if she drank, everything and more would come back up. I called Rich and asked him to come home - and he did. Since Joey was so new and a nursing baby too, Rich decided to take her back to the hospital. I knew in my heart that there was something wrong and I really wanted them to help her but I was worried that they would do just what they had done that morning - send them home. I remember praying that she would be sick enough that they could find out what was wrong but not sick enough to have it be serious. Hours went by with no word - finally about 6:30 that evening Rich called to tell me that they had admitted her because of dehydration. I was very grateful and relieved. Rich was the one that stayed with her most of the time for those three days because they wouldn't allow Joey into the ward and he was nursing.

We often made the trip to Salt Lake that first year to be with family. My brother, Brad, had a horse that they had knicknamed Turkey. Brad would often take Wanda with him to feed, water, groom, and ride the horse. As Thanksgiving approached we started to talk about Thanksgiving dinner and eating turkey - Wanda became convinced that we were going to eat the horse - so finally we decided that we would tell her that we would be eating horse instead of turkey - she was fine with that - just so long as Turkey was safe. LOL

On Thanksgiving Day Rich and I were getting ready to head to my folks for dinner. I had put Joey down on the living room floor to be safe but unbeknownst to us Wanda had found a tube of very red lipstick and had plastered herself and Joey with it. Needless to say - it looked like we were going to be taking the Indians, in war paint, to Thanksgiving Dinner! Joey's hair absorbed the dye and for months it was ghastly red.

In December I walked into our bathroom and found Wanda standing in the sink taking everything out of the medicine chest. That afternoon I took all of the stuff out of the chest and found a new home for it - someplace where our little gal wouldn't be able to get. The next day I heard her in the bathroom and I smiled to myself, knowing that she was going for the medicine chest again but that she wouldn't be able to find anything. However, before the smile even had a chance to fade I heard a crash and the crying of someone really hurt. She had fallen out of the sink. I ran and picked her up, tried to console her, but nothing helped. After a time I called Rich and told him that I thought that she had broken her arm, he said he would be right home but he didn't think she could break an arm at that age. We went to the emergency room where the medic told us the same thing that Rich had just told me. However, the doctor sent us to x-ray. She had indeed broken both the radius and ulna and was in a cast for Christmas.

In February of 1977 I decided that I would bake my father some of his favorite cookies for his birthday - Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip Cookies. I decided to quadruple the recipe so that there would be plenty for both families. I had almost mixed up all of the batter when I needed to attend to Joey for a moment. When I came back I finished the batter and was preparing to bake them when I smelled Vicks Vap-o-rub. I looked for the Vicks but couldn't find any. I baked a batch and the smell was even stonger - but there was no Vick anywhere. The kids had had colds and so I decided that perhaps what I was smelling was the residue from putting it on them. I continued to bake. When I took the cookies to Dad he was so pleased - until he bit into one - imagine his surprise when it tasted like Vicks! Evidently Wanda had scooped out the contents of the big jar of Vicks and added it to my dough while I was caring for Joey. Dad really got a gift!

When Philip was born we owned a Ford Maverick. It had bucket seats in the front and a bench seat in the back. It was very close quarters for three kids in car seats! We put Philip in the middle, between Wanda and Joey. Often Wanda would do her best to soothe Phil, give him a pacifier and rub his cheek. One of Rich's and my favorite memories of her was one night when we had been down to Salt Lake and were driving home late. Phil would only take a certain kind of pacifier - and somehow he lost it in the car. He had been fine for a while but gradually he began to fuss, escalating into a full howl. Wanda tenderly reached over to him, trying to find the pacifier (but she couldn't find it), gently carressed his cheeked and in a soft, cooing manner she said, "It's okay Phil, Wanda is here." It is fitting that one of Phil's first words was "Ah ma" or Wanda.

When Wanda was three she had a kitchen play set with play food and everything that she needed to play house. We had a rule about keeping food in the kitchen and it seemed that I was battling to keep that rule in place. One day I smelled something awful and when I investigated I found moldy food in the refrigerator of her play kitchen. As I scolded her I asked, "Don't we have a rule about food staying in the kitchen?" To which she responded, "But Mom, this is my kitchen!" I thought that Rich was going to die laughing!

When Wanda was turning four we moved to Salt Lake. While there she had three little friends all her age that lived nearby, Heidi, Amy, and Katrina. Heidi, Amy, and Wanda all took a dance class on the east side of Salt Lake and the moms would take turns driving them to their weekly lessons. One day Heidi and Amy got into an argument about who's birthday was the most important. Heidi believed that the birthday that was most important was the one having the birthday. Amy believed that her birthday was the most important because it was April 6th - the same as Jesus'. Wanda, ever the peacemaker, told them that they were both right - and the arguing stopped. On another trip in October, Wanda observed that the east side of Salt Lake had "a lot of FALL" and wondered when we would have FALL in our neighborhood. Heidi told her that it was fall everywhere but Amy interjected that another word for fall was autumn and we had autumn in our neighborhood. Wanda wasn't interested in either point of view - there were lots of trees in the neighborhoods of east Salt Lake and there were lots of leaves on the gound - there was lots of FALL - and we lived in a new subdivision - when were we going to have lots of FALL?

As Wanda approached her 8th birthday we were trying our best to prepare her of the covenant of baptism. For weeks we had Family Home Evening lessons on it and talked about it at dinner, etc. When she went to have her interview with the bishop he gave her the choice of whether to have us in the room with her or not - she chose not. On our ride home we asked her when she was going to be baptized and she told us that she didn't know - that she hadn't paid her money yet. We were confused and we couldn't get her to elaborate. Rich called the bishop and he explained that she had told him that she hadn't paid any tithing yet! All of us got a laugh out of that one - we were beginning to wonder if you had to pay for baptism!

When we moved to Germany Wanda had a teacher in school that seemed a little arbitrary. I had already had my frustrations with her when she gave Wanda a full grade less on her report card because she thought Wanda was too shy and needed to speak up and assert herself more. I had been frustrated by that line of thought since the teacher had assured me that her work had not deteriorated - just that she thought the grade change would motivate her. Well - the course work in the social studies course had turned to the theory of the land bridge and the origin of the American Indian. As time came for the test over the material Wanda became more and more adamant that she didn't want to take the test. I quizzed her over the material and I couldn't understand her reluctance because it was evident that she knew it. As I expressed that she looked and me and said, "Mom, my teacher is teaching this as fact, not as a theory." I told her that it didn't really matter - all the test was going to determine was whether she knew the theory or not and all she had to do was put down the answer that they were looking for. In exasperation Wanda informed me that she knew the theory and the theory was wrong. She knew the Book of Mormon was true and where the Lamanites had come from. "And I will not sacrifice my personal integrity!" she said. I have never been more proud of her than I was that day!

When I was expecting Cherstin I was experiencing morning sickness much like I had with Wanda. Most of the time it was all I could do to roll over in bed - getting up and caring for the kids was quite an effort. Rich and the kids tried their very best to make things as easy on me as they could but we knew from previous experience that probably we would just have to endure. The three oldest worked really well to help get themselves out to the school bus every morning. I would lay in bed, trying to help as I could, but mostly just laying. Wanda took it upon herself to pack lunches one day. I was grateful. When they came home that evening though, Joey was fuming. He was beyond hungry, he said. He was starving! I wanted to know what had happened. He exploded with, "That stupid WOMAN! I don't ever want her to pack my lunch again!" As I tried to calm him down I learned that Wanda had thought that she would be extra kind and pack him a very special treat - ice cream! To make matters worse she had reasoned that the ice cream would need to stay cold so she decided that she would pack it in ice - so far so good! However, she put a small bowl, with the ice cream in it, inside a larger bowl and packed ice around the smaller one. But she had used aluminum foil as a lid, molded it the best she could, and then secured it by putting a rubber band around it. Needless to say - the ice cream melted, the ice melted, and the foil wasn't a good lid. Everything in Joey's lunch was ruined and he was starving! LOL He couldn't appreciate how much effort and care Wanda had put into his lunch and he never wanted her to pack him another one!

During this same period of time Wanda learned how to iron...however, one day while Rich and I were gone, she decided to do some herself. Somehow the iron fell on top of her hand and seriously burned it. We tried our best to care for it but it did get infected, needing antibiotics. To this day there is an iron shaped scar on her hand - with the vent holes and everything! When Robert and Wanda were dating he thought that Rich or I had intentionally done this to her!!! No, Robert - it was totally self inflicted!

While in Germany Wanda took piano lessons. She did very well and prepared for her piano recital. She memorized the piece that she was going to play, Nadia's Theme, and could play it beautifully time after time. At the recital she also played it through beautifully - until the last chord. Somehow, perhaps nerves or momentary lack of focus, her hands had shifted and the chord was wrong. She tried several times and combinations - each wrong. It was heartbreaking to watch her struggle to find it. She never did. She was devastated. Perhaps this is why I am so proud of her for choosing to play in her recital this year - I don't know if I would have the courage to do it WITHOUT having that experience! But I have no doubt that she will be victorious!

As we prepared to leave Germany Rich and I wanted to take the kids to East Germany to experience, in a small way, a communist country. We had given them each $10 to spend any way they wanted - we knew that they wouldn't find anything to buy - and they didn't. We took them to a restaurant - a fine dining establishment - the food was awful! Every place they looked were grim reminders that this was communism, that the people weren't free to come and go as they pleased, everything was gray. As we were leaving East Berlin, preparing to go through Check Point Charlie, into West Berlin we had a terrible car accident. Desi was knocked unconcious, Wanda and Philip were hurt, I suffered broken ribs. Wanda and Philip were transported by the only ambulance allowed into the East to the American Medical Facility in the West. Desi, Cherstin, and I had been transported by East German ambulance to an East German hospital. And Rich and Joey were left at the scene temporarily to sort out the accident. Hours later the American ambulance that had transported Wanda and Phil arrived at the East German Hospital with an American surgeon, an American State Department official, and a Soviet Officer to bring Cherstin, Desi, and Me to the west - to the American Hospital where the rest of our family was waiting. Wanda and Philip had been admitted with concussions and Desi joined them. It was interesting to me that in talking to the charge nurse the next morning we learned that Wanda had tried her best to care for Phil and Desi during the night, as sick as she was. She had tried to comfort them, reassure them, even clean up after them. The nurse was very impressed - the degree of nurturing that Wanda exhibited under these conditions was very unusual she told us. But then, she didn't know Wanda.

When we arrived back in the states (South Carolina) the kids were awed by the stores, the food, and TV. They enjoyed going to church and made lots of friends. We also had a couple of experiences that will forever shape us individually and as a family. One was Hurricane Hugo - the other was having our home burn to the ground.

The devastation from Hugo was immense. The community and the nation struggled to provide relief and assistance for all who had suffered from its' wrath. Day after day we did the best that we knew how to help others and care for our own needs. The Church provided plenty of opportunities for coordinated service for Rich, myself, Wanda, Joey, and Phil in the long term - and the community needs were also wonderful opportunities as well. Wanda and Joey went and made sandwiches and food for the Red Cross who were providing meals for the rescuers. Babysitting, tree and debris removal, and clean up were all part of the daily routine for many, many weeks. Perhaps my fondest memories of that time were our evenings...we would prepare a meal on the camp stove and then sit around and play games as a family and with friends by lantern. It wasn't so much a hardship as it was an adventure - and the bonding and caring for one another was real. I loved sitting around and watching my daughters and sons blossom into the women and men they would become...it was happening, right there, while we watched.

Hurricane Hugo happened on the 23rd of September and as life began to slowly return to normal for the community, our life was being taxed even more. In November Rich received word that he was being medically retired. He was still taking classes and we didn't feel it was in our best interest to move at that point so he looked for work. He found a job making furniture - but the saw dust and the stress of the night shift along with everything else just shifted his asthma into overdrive. He had a couple of terrible incidents and landed in the hospital. Christmas came, along with damaging ice storms. Finally, as the new year began we knew that he would have to find different employment, he was not doing well. In February he put in his resignation and we put our lives into the Lord's hands. On his last day we pulled into the driveway and the kids came and told us that someone wanted to talk to Rich - it was a job offer that he had interviewed for weeks before - could he start tomorrow? Truly we were blessed. After being at the job for only a week, and in class that evening, we learned that our home had burned to the ground. Friends and especially our ward came to our rescue providing food, lodging, clothes, toys, toiletries, and money until we could get back on our feet. Days went by as we sifted through the ashes for anything that might be salvaged, looked for a new home, attended school classes and did homework, worked with the insurance company, and then purchased much needed furnishings and household goods. Perhaps what wasn't spoken or given due recognition at the time was the fact that Wanda provided countless hours of childcare, cleaning, meals, and errands for us as we tried to put our lives back together - all without complaint. It wasn't possible for me to do it all - and I didn't have to - she was always there providing the support I so desparately needed. At times I think her little sisters thought of her as their mother, more than me. And at times I really asked her to do things that were well beyond her years. I will always be grateful for her goodness and kindness.

One day she came to me and asked if she could take the kids and drive the van (12 passenger) to the local convenience store (about a mile away) for slurpees or treats. I was a little apprehensive but okayed it. When they had been gone about an hour I started to worry. Time continued to pass with no word. Finally I received a phone call from Joey telling me that they were okay and not to worry - but they had a problem - Wanda had backed out of her parking place right into a drainage ditch - the back wheels were in the ditch and the front wheels weren't on the ground! They really did need help! I called Rich - ever resourceful Rich - and he went to their rescue. There was no real damage to the van but Rich said that when he saw it he thought that perhaps the van might be ready to launch for the moon! We have laughed about this over and over through the years. On returning to the scene of the accident years later we still marvel about how that happened! I am sure that Wanda wishes that this would be forgotten - along with many of the other stories that get retold over and over! LOL

We left Sumter and moved to Charleston for a year and then made the move to El Centro, California. This move was much harder for Wanda than for the other children. She was a junior in high school and there were few kids her age in church. She enjoyed the friendship of one gal - Debbie - but she was a senior and wouldn't be there the next year. Wanda didn't want to be there either. She wanted to go to Salt Lake to her grandparents and do her senior year there. I wasn't really thrilled about the idea, and neither was Rich. However, we knew that this had been hard and that there weren't a lot of good prospects for her for the next year and so we asked my mom and dad and they welcomed her with open arms.

My parents have often told me how much they enjoyed her while she was with them. My father will still often chuckle as he tells about driving to the school to pick her up and finding her walking, with her nose in a book, oblivious to the fact that he was driving slowly beside her! My mom would often have her go and do the grocery shopping that my father didn't want to do and my mother found so difficult to accomplish. The summer that mom passed away she shared how much she loved Wanda (and all the kids, for that matter) and how much she felt that she exemplified true charity - with never a complaint or attitude of being put upon - always with patience, willingness, and understanding.

Wanda finished high school at Granite and then chose to go to Weber State University. I had tried to get her to consider the "Y" but she wouldn't hear of it...and soon we were to find out why. She dated tons, went to class, just had lots of fun...but it wasn't long before we knew that something was going on. She had come home for Easter and was telling us all about the value of a "Franklin Planner" on the way home from the airport. Rich and I were immediately suspicious. She had a planner that a guy had given her and she was using it - we had been trying to get her to use one for a year or two and she wouldn't - something was going on....and his name was Robert Husted.

When she came home for the summer they would spend hours every day corresponding by email. It was obvious that this was a serious relationship in the making. By November they were married in the Jordan River Temple for time and all eternity.

The years have flown by. They have lived in New Mexico; Irving, California; Placentia, California; Sunnyvale, California; Westminster, Colorado; and Blue Mounds, Wisconsin. Joseph, Rebekah, and Rachel were born in California. Mary, Ben, and Sam were born in Colorado. Ruth, Moroni, and Adam were born in Wisconsin. I think they might be a little nervous to move to another place at the moment! LOL In fact, Robert announced over the pulpit at church one time that they weren't filling the van - it's a 15 passenger! LOL

Through the years their home has been a gathering place for family and friends. Sometimes their home has been a safe haven for years and other times just for a couple of hours - but always it is welcoming, warm, and inviting. Through the years I have relied on Wanda for help with weddings, babies, cleaning, lesson ideas, errands, wisdom, and peace. I have always found a listening ear, a friend, someone who might show me another way to look at something, a fellow student of the gospel eager to share new insights, someone who is always teaching me to be more compassionate and charitable, gentler and kinder, willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Truly, I have been the been the one who's life has been blessed because she came into our home. Happy Birthday, Wanda!

Monday, May 17, 2010

Mordecai's Birthday

One of the things I love about this medium is the ability to quickly put down thoughts, impressions, and memories...however, I got way off course when I went to Colorado, Utah, Wisconsin, and Oklahoma in March and April. I haven't been very consistent since and I don't want to stop doing something that I have started - writing about the Sweet Ones that fill my life - commemorating their birthdays. So, over the next couple of days I will try to get Mordecai, Wanda, and Cherstin done - especially because Desi, Abby, and Levi are all celebrating birthdays in the next few days! (If I don't get on this now it will quickly become like my quilts! oops! LOL)

Mordecai and Desi for Easter 2010


Mordecai John Rogers was born March 13, 2008. He is now two and quite the charmer. However, my thoughts aren't really of the day that he was born so much as the months inutero - except for the relief that came knowing that he was finally here, safe, unharmed, and that the months of agony for Desi were finally ending.

Our Precious Newborn

Mordecai's Blessing Day

I remember being at Wanda and Robert's home for the birth of Moroni in September when we received news that Desi and Mike had finally sold their home and they were going to purchase Wanda and Robert's home in Westminster. That was wonderful news but terrible timing! I was still in Wisconsin and was to be heading to Oklahoma for the birth of Emmett when I left Wisconsin - but the condition of the sale of Desi and Mike's home was that they needed to close in two weeks. Since Rich, Felicia and I were living in Wanda and Robert's home it would necessitate us finding some place quickly to move to and doing it in 2 weeks - I wouldn't be there to do any of that. Desi and Mike were excited and assured us that they could handle everything - our move and theirs - LOL - especially because I wouldn't be there, Rich was ill, and Felicia was in school.


Well, they did find us a place, started packing us, and getting us moved, but one evening I got a phone call from Desi that had me a little concerned. She was pregnant with Mordecai but experiencing quite a bit of pain. She thought that perhaps she was just tired from all the stress but she just didn't feel good. A couple of days went by and she still was uncomfortable, but the next phone call was very upsetting. She said that she was doubled up in pain and couldn't walk - but she was feeling the pressure to get everything done and didn't want to say anything to Mike or Rich, especially because there was so much to do. I told her to tell Mike immediately and for him to take her to the hospital, and then I waited.

The next few days brought some answers and lots of concerns. A serious kidney infection and kidney stones were the cause of the difficulty. After a stay in the hospital with IV antibiotics and other treatment she was allowed to go home. Gratefully Mike's brother and sister-in-law, Keith and Kim, came from Utah to help Mike complete the moves...I will always be grateful to them for helping Mike and Desi and Rich and I.


I drove home from Wisconsin but was there only about 8 hours when I received word that Cherstin was in labor with Emmett and so I headed out as quickly as I could (didn't make it but I was there that evening) all the while Rich was chastising me for coming home instead of heading straight to Oklahoma. He kept assuring me that everything would be okay - but I just felt completely discombobulated.


While I was in Oklahoma I received word that Desi was having more difficulty. Concerns about Desi's long term health and the health of the baby were weighing heavily and so the family had a fast for her. More hospitals, medicine, pain, difficulty, and uncertainty ensued.


I finally drove home the weekend before Thanksgiving - arriving to a house full of boxes - knowing that I needed to unpack as much as I could because we were having our entire family come to Denver for Thanksgiving and we were going to have Joey and Carlie and their family stay with us, as well as Phil, Hannah and Orion. Desi and Mike were hosting Thanksgiving at their place and having Wanda and Robert and their family stay with them, and Cherstin and Dan were coming in too - but would be staying with Dan's folks. The plan was to bless Moroni and Emmett that weekend and to have family photos as well. It was a very tall order for the circumstances and made all the worse when Wanda and Robert's children started coming down with a 24hr stomach virus well after they were already on the road, and that virus would run through the entire family that weekend.

However, that was just part of the drama that would be a part of the weekend - Desi continued to experience extreme pain, nausea, and vomiting necessitating multiple trips to the hospital. In fact, Desi and Mike didn't even get to have Thanksgiving dinner because of a trip to the hospital. We did, however, manage to have photos taken between trips to the bathroom and the hospital, and we even blessed our precious new babies, Emmett and Moroni.

December continued just as September, October, and November had - trips to the hospital and continued difficulty. One of my precious memories occurred one day when Desi again was suffering. This time I took her to the hospital and Desi had called Mike at work to join us. As we were in triage of the obstetrics unit Desi was struggling mightily against the pain and nausea. Mike had rushed over from work and it was past lunch. A little nurse, maybe 5'2", was trying to put in an IV into Desi's arm so that they could give her some morphine for the pain. Mike was standing between Desi's bed and the wall - maybe a foot or two wide. As the nurse tried to "fish" for the vein Mike suddenly turned ashen, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped into a heap on top of the nurse and Desi - he had passed out cold. I yelled for help and nurses came running. Smelling salts brought Mike back quickly but he still looked pretty woozy. Medical personnel brought him something to eat and checked him out, much to his chagrin and to our relief. The only real damage was to the nurse's glasses and Mike's ego. However, Desi continued to have extreme pain regardless of how much medication they pumped into her arm. After a considerable length of time I looked at Desi's hand - it was all bloated. After showing the nurse it was discovered that because of all the commotion they had forgotten to take off the tourniquet! No wonder Desi had remained in pain - none of the medication was reaching her system - but as soon as the tourniquet came off she found relief!


Doctors eventually placed a nephrostomy tube into Desi's side so that her kidneys could work - that provided a great deal of relief. However, even that was frought with difficulty. She also had a pic line so that they could continue the antibiotics. All this was done to provide Mordecai a chance at life. They had reached the radiological limits for a fetus and they needed to give him some time in utero before they would attempt to get the stones because the procedure could potentially start labor. It was a wait and see game calculated to get him here safely.

Eventually they did take out the stones and Desi felt good for the first time in months. However, new ones quickly grew and took their place, creating all the familiar problems. The relief we felt (especially Desi) when Mordecai was finally born was tremendous. Gratefully there seems to be no lasting problems for him and we are thankful for that. Desi, on the other hand, continued to have kidney stones for some time - but all seems well at the moment.

In August of 2008 Cherstin, Felicia, Desi, and I had taken the little ones to a park in Westminster. As they played, we talked and enjoyed our ourselves, watching and helping children as needed. As usual, the subject of names came up - and we all laughed as Desi recounted the story of the selection of the name Mordecai over the other possiblity of Teancum. Interestingly, a Jewish family had come to the park and you can imagine the fun we had when the gentleman said something to the effect of, "Mordecai! A good Jewish name!"


I think we had all worried about the potential harm Mordecai might have had due to the pregnancy problems, but we also were a little anxious that he might have similar problems as Emily, with the hemangiomas - however, so far so good. He has had difficulty with bowels and vomiting that have worried us some - but that seems to be remediating at this point.Brother and Sister
Mordecai has had a very peaceful disposition. In fact, for a very long time he just seemed content to watch everything going on without getting too involved. But, he has become less passive and now takes matters into his own capable hands (especially Emily or Desi's hair LOL) just like any other well adjusted two year old will do! He loves watching DVD's in the car, anything that has to do with trains, and teasing his sister. He loves milk, snacks, and his Mommy. He doesn't like playing in snow and cold or sharing his train. He is very verbal and enjoys sparring with anyone who'll play along. If I had to guess I think he'll probably love to play ball as he gets older - soccor, baseball, basketball, football - part of it because of exposure from Daddy - but lots of it seems to be his own natural desire. He also loves cars and trucks...watch out Daddy! Sixteen might seem like a lifetime from now - but in the blink of an eye he'll be asking to borrow the Daewoo!

Mordecai at the Children's Museum in Nashville

Making Gingerbread Houses for Christmas 2009


Don't you just love that coy smile?

Mordecai sporting his Cougar Shirt from Aunt Felicia

Mordecai - we are so glad that you came to our family. You are dearly loved. Happy birthday!

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Habits

I have been trying my very best (or giving my very best effort) to lose weight, get fit, and become the healthiest person I can. The down side of this is that I am having to learn how to incorporate the time and effort into my daily schedule...I have yet to succeed at that!

I have been going to a gym in Clinton that is associated with a physical therapy group and who work extensively with people who have joint problems - that's me!!! It's only 16 miles away but between the travel time, the gym part, and the water aerobics class I am spending quite a bit of time each day.

It has been a month now and I have lost some pounds and inches. I have gained some flexability and balance. But, just like the "law of the harvest," this is going to take some time. Probably years. However, I don't feel discouraged at the moment, rather encouraged.

I keep thinking of the scripture in Alma 37:41 "Nevertheless, because those miracles were worked by small means it did show unto them marvelous works. They were slothful, and forgot to exercise their faith and diligence and then those marvelous works ceased, and they did not progress in their journey."

A number of years ago I lost quite a bit of weight and I was exercising daily. But I was never successful about getting down to my goal weight - because "life" happened. I got slothful, and didn't really believe that I could get there and I let other activities (and they were good things too - just not the things that would help me get to my best weight and health) supercede the committment to myself and my health. I didn't just "stop in my journey" - I reversed course completely! LOL

Today the health threats loom and my ability to "do" is severly hampered because of my weight. This isn't the way I want to live the rest of my life - and while I may never fully overcome the years of neglect nor the genetic predisposition for some ailments, I certainly can minimize them by doing what I should have been doing all of my life. The question remains though - how to put these habits into my life - so that the people and things that I love to do are not neglected. So far I haven't found a way to accomplish that - although I am just now trying to do that because I have felt that I wanted to get one thing going at a time - rather than my "all or nothing" mentality.

So - "Karen, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things preceedeth that which is great." Habits, hopes, faith, ideas, true principles, work - these are some of the small things that will ultimately help me succeed at this and anything else I undertake. Ironically we can change the past as we change the present - and the future is certain when we do. So let the journey continue!