It’s Complicated

What’s complicated?  Well… right now, everything.

As I write this, I’m balancing the computer on one knee with Marin sprawled across my (still very flabby, squishy, saggy) belly.  She’s out cold, and I’d like her to stay that way, so I am not planning to put her down any time soon.  I have three bags of groceries in the back of the van while two bags of produce items are strewn across the kitchen.  Marin was frantically hungry when we got home from the store, so I threw the freezer items in the garage chest freezer–thank goodness I bagged them all together  at  the store–and tossed the items that would spoil if they sat out into the refrigerator quickly before nursing my hungry little one.

There are toys all over the house in the wake of Evan’s curious nature and incessant need to be doing something.  His latest obsession is Scrabble.  No, he doesn’t know how to play, but he is learning his letters, and the tiles make him happy.  I’m sure this game will be missing pieces, but as it was a garage sale find, and he keeps himself happily occupied while sorting letters, pretending he knows what he’s doing, I’m happy to let him play with it. 

There is laundry in various stages of completion all over the house.  It’s really hard to fold laundry with one hand, so as I hold Marin, I’m really good at cycling the laundry through the washer and dryer, but that’s pretty much where it ends.  Poor Josh ends up folding six to eight baskets of laundry at a time.  This usually happens when he is out of t-shirts, pants, underwear, or whatever it is he needs in order to be presentable for work on any given day.  I hardly notice the lack of clean laundry as it is rare for me to even attempt being presentable enough to leave the house.

The critter living in our walls has now become so bold as to scratch and thump during the day–I just heard it now.  I fear what we’ll discover if we look into the problem, so we just try to ignore it…

As if simply living were not complicated enough, I have run into some complications in my recovery.  Some of you may know that after my c-section my hemoglobin mysteriously took a nosedive.  We didn’t discover this until late in the evening on the day Marin was born.  My nurse came in and said it was time to get up and try walking around.  She was going to start with a trip to the restroom so I could freshen up.  I was dizzy when I stood up, but she helped me, and I made it to the bathroom where I promptly fell off the toilet as I nearly blacked out.  All that excitement lead to me getting two units of blood in an effort to raise my hemoglobin and get me back on my feet–literally.  It worked, and I felt better by the next  morning.  The doctor couldn’t explain why this happened… until now. 

When I went in for my six-week postpartum appointment, the doctor said, “Hm… this doesn’t feel right.”  Yeah.  Just what every gal wants to hear when her feet are in the stirrups.  Anyway, she ordered an ultrasound, and we got some pictures taken.  I tried not to let my imagination get the best of me as we waited for the results.  When she called back, she reported that I am walking around with what seems to be a pool of blood inside of me.  She, being a family practitioner, did not perform my c-section, so she wanted to get in touch with the OB-GYN that did the procedure.  Of course, he wanted to see me for himself, so we did that this morning.  Another ultrasound and internal exam later, we have learned that I have a large blood clot–the equivalent of about three units of blood–sitting inside my such and such cavity.  I can’t remember the exact name.  Anyway, the doctor believes this is why my hemoglobin dropped, and that this clot is actually much smaller than it was seven weeks ago.  (This would explain why my left side was so much more sore than my right and why I had a hard time lifting my left leg more than an inch or two for the first few weeks post-op.)  So… since I’m not in pain, and since there is no evidence of flow (no leaks, just a clot), we do nothing.  I go back in four weeks for another ultrasound to see where things are.  Hopefully we’ll see that the clot has gotten significantly smaller on its own.  I don’t really want another surgery… Time will tell, I guess.

In spite of all of this, I still feel blessed by my crazy, beautiful life. I have two beautiful kids, a husband who loves us unabashedly, a nice house (albeit a messy one), and so many other reasons to  be thankful.  I know that life happens in “seasons,” and this one shall pass.  I want to get out of the habit of wishing my life away.  I will try to relish each chaotic, complicated moment for what it is.  I believe this is the secret to truly living life well, and I’m going to give it my best.