Friday, January 16, 2015


This week has had its fair share of ick.  Obviously, Monday wasn't all roses.  Then, both twins got a mild stomach bug, which was no fun.  On Wednesday, both babies had pretty major appointments for things that I had put off til after the holidays.  So, Wednesday morning, I headed to ACH with the twins in tow for Violet to get checked at the ENT, due to her most recent failed swallow study.

While William moaned in the car almost all the way there, I was thinking that my decision to not have back-up for this adventure was a poor one.  About 10 minutes into our time at ACH, I was quite certain.  I texted John.  By the time he called back, I was nearly in tears, and John couldn't hear me over the crying children in the very small room with me.


Even though I was not very nice about it, John came to my rescue and scooped William out of the room just in time for Violet to have a camera threaded through her nose headed towards her throat.  She liked it about as much as you might imagine she would.  Thankfully, the two nurses, one doctor and one med student did all the dirty work while I got to watch.  Violet does indeed have another condition, but she will grow out of it, and it will thankfully not involve surgery.  She got a stuffed kitty for being such a "brave" girl.


After lunch time and smack dab in the middle of nap time, I took William to the eye doctor.  This is what he looked like in the waiting room.  Since he was *mostly* silently fit throwing, I let him lay there while the majority elderly crowd looked on in quiet horror.


After an initial examination, the nurse said, "Okay, now I'm going to put some drops in his eyes to dilate them.  Then you will wait in here (a darkened room) for 25-30 minutes while they work."

I wanted to gouge out my eyes while we waited for William's to dilate.

To be honest, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, and at the end of it all, we found out that William's vision is normal, which is great news.  We got out of there as quickly as we could.


I knew going into Wednesday that I wasn't going to like it, but these things are necessary evils, and I am so thankful that we have the access to these services and doctors.  However, my attitude on Wednesday was not fantastic.  I wished that the twins had not been premature.  I wished that I had a better grasp on all of their medical history - much of which I will likely never know.  I wished that we didn't have to do therapy and lots of appointments and that they were more cooperative for all of it.

I felt sorry for myself and wanted to host a day long pity party.

And then, the self-shaming began.

"How can you think like this when there are mothers all over the world who wish they could go to doctors and hospitals so easily?"
"What about all the single moms who have literally no one to call when they are stuck in a waiting room with their difficult children?"
"You have everything in the world and still find ways to complain about it."

Having traveled quite a bit - I know these are real things.  I know I have everything, even the power of the most high God.  I have a husband who will come to my rescue when I need him to.  I have friends who will help with my other kids - one friend picked up Bella, fed her lunch and brought her to my house on Wednesday so I wouldn't have to take the twins anywhere else.


I am still wrestling through the gracious way to walk through hard days, and I am not there yet.  There has to be a balance between the wallowing in self-pity vs. wallowing in self-shaming.  I know the answer is more Jesus, less of me - it always is.  I need his perspective.  Yesterday, I got another chance to go down this road as I fell ill to the same mild stomach bug the twins had earlier in the week and laid on the couch most of the day post lunch.

More of Jesus, less of me.  It always should be my mantra.