My Musings

 The first week of chemo was so hard.  We were still grappling with the fact that Taylor even had cancer.  The first round (maybe the first two? Funny the details that I forget) were not inpatient.  She would have chemo and then go home and then we would go back the next day for more chemo.  They were still running tests on her so she would get chemo and after it she would have some scan or procedure.  We would spend the entire day at the hospital and then go home late, and get up the next day and repeat the same nightmare over and over again.  We were also going back and forth to see Jeremiah in the NICU.  It was brutal for us, but even more so for her.  The chemo she was getting wasn’t low dose, it was extremely toxic.  She was so exhausted. I also was beginning to really loathe the fact that we kept having to hold her down for painful things to be done her.  She would scream her little head off, and we had to hold her while her port was accessed, or a catheter was put in.  She was a

 Two days before Taylor was supposed to start her first chemo treatment, I started having very regular contractions.  The night before I thought I was in labor and almost woke Randy up.  The contractions stopped and I went back to sleep.  That next morning, they started again and didnt stop.  When they were five minutes apart we packed our bags and headed to the hospital.  The contractions were so strong I had to grip the door handle of the car on the way to the hospital.  My sister and mom were meeting us at the hospital, because they were going to watch the birth.  I got all checked in and got a bed in the triage room and kept laboring.  My mom and sister arrived.  The triage room was super tiny for me on the bed, Randy, my mom, and my sister (who was also very pregnant), so my mom and sister decided to go wait in the waiting room.  I kept laboring and my contractions got closer and closer together.  The nurse kept telling me that I was having braxton hicks, because I wasnt dilating

We arrived at the hospital and they wanted to start her tests right away.  They needed to place an IV until they could put a port in.  That first IV was so heartbreaking.  I couldnt even go in and comfort her during it, because I was so emotional.  Taylor was the sweetest little thing, and the thought of putting her through pain absolutely crushed me.  Randy and I both kept falling apart with each new diagnosis or test.  The first time they put her to sleep, tears.  When they told us she had cancer, tears. The surgeon came and told us they would be doing surgery to do a biopsy of her tumor, and place a port while they had her put under... tears.  When they said it was an aggressive form of childhood cancer and she would need chemo, tears.  We were absolutely devastated, and in a state of complete shock.  There was no forewarning, or signs that she was even sick, except for the few things that had me concerned.  Days ago, we were a happy family of 6, soon to be 7, and all our kids were

Taylor had her well child checkup on a Friday.  When the doctor did the tummy check where they push and prod on it, he kept doing it for a really long time.  Then he started thunking and listening in a certain spot and pushing some more.  He very seriously told me that something was pushing Taylor’s liver forward.  I had always wondered why they did those tummy checks, and I suppose in that moment, I found out why. I’m a very optimistic person, so I tried to reason in my mind, what could be causing her liver to be pushed forward.  But deep down I knew it wasn’t good.  All those gut feelings were being answered.  The doctor ordered an ultrasound.  It was scheduled for the following Monday.   Even in the most difficult times, Gods hand is at work.  My parents visiting from Utah that very weekend, was definitely, his hand of providence.  They were at our house for a couple days and then heading to Minnesota on Saturday.  I asked my mom if she could stay and go to the ultrasound with me.  

 I believe moms are created with a gut instinct.  Long before anyone else knows something is wrong, a mom knows.  Months before Taylors illness, I knew, down deep in my soul that something was about to happen.  I had an irrational fear that one of my kids would get cancer.  If a St Jude’s commercial came on, my heart would race and I would feel so anxious, that I couldn’t watch it, and I would change the channel.  Some nights when I checked on the kids before bed, I would linger at their door and wonder which one of them would get cancer.  It’s interesting how surviving a worst fear, is incredibly faith building.   More gut feelings came when I was giving Taylor a bath one night.  Her stomach was huge and the rest of her was so skinny.  It wasn’t right.  I even pointed out her huge tummy to a friend.  There was nothing alarming, it just didn’t sit well with me.  Taylor was also sleeping a lot.  The kids had VBS one week, and Taylor would nap all the way through it.  Then when we got ho

 I’ve had people often say, that I should write a book, telling Taylors story.  I’ve thought long and hard about which route to take with it, and I can never figure out what the book would look like.  Would I share advice?  Could I even remember details that would be pertinent in writing a book?  That would be highly unlikely!!  I decided, a blog could be whatever I want it to be, and I could just write and not need a certain “route” or “theme” and if people read it, great!  If not, that’s fine too!  I don’t even feel like I can share “advice” on how to get through the trauma of a child with life threatening illnesses.  We have not in any way “arrived”, and we are not in any way the authority on the subject.  We are deeply flawed and sinful and selfish people.  We won’t reach any level of perfection until Heaven. We have however “survived” and we have a story to share.  Our family and marriage and faith are still very much intact, and therefore, the glory and honor need to be testified