Birth Story--Jack Sawyer

To start I want to say that laboring with and delivering Jack was one of the most intense and incredible experiences of my life. I started the process not really believing there was a baby at the end, and ended up with the most perfect little boy. No matter what your story, birthing a child is a magical time. It was nothing like I expected, but everything I needed to step into being a mom. Fair warning--this is a really long (and probably too informative) post. 

August 7
3 AM
My gallbladder (an issue that I’ve been struggling with since about 27 weeks) decided to get the party started at 3 AM. By about 9 that evening, I was in the midst of one of my worst flare ups, and opted to call the on-call midwife at my clinic to see if I should wait things out or head in to the ER for monitoring. My pain was pretty unbearable, and I was worried about a full on blockage/rupture. She recommended that I head in, at least for pain management since Tylenol and heat packs at home weren’t cutting it. She called ahead to the birthing center and had them set up a bed for me so I wouldn’t have to wait in the ER. (SO ETERNALLY GRATEFUL FOR THAT) 

10:30 PM
We grabbed our go-bags (just in case) and checked in. They sent me to triage and the nurse hooked me up to some monitors while we waited. She went to call the midwife about offering some heavier medication and ask about a plan. About 20 minutes in, baby’s heart rate went really high (like 200), and then dropped down to 30bpm for almost a full minute. Suddenly the room filled with nurses, I was turned on my side and they started looking for veins for an IV. Baby’s heart rate stabilized, but they opted to start me on some fluids and IV pain meds just to be safe.
Soon the midwife I had chatted with came in and said she was recommending an ultrasound to check the gallbladder, and then to admit me overnight to keep an eye on Baby after the dip on the monitor. We agreed and soon moved into a room for the night. 

AUGUST 8
6AM
The next morning, the midwife came in to let me know she’d been talking with the general surgeon and the GI specialist about how we should proceed, and both recommended (after my ultrasound) that we move towards induction so we can start looking towards gallbladder removal.
Since they were full for Saturday inductions, she put me on the schedule for Sunday night. Since Baby had been stable all night, my pain was adequately controlled, and I was able to eat without another flare, she felt comfortable sending us home to rest, prepare, eat our own food, and get ready to meet our baby. 

10 AM
Discharged and on our way home, with anticipation filling our guts. We couldn’t believe we went from zero to a hundred so quickly, but we were so excited to know the end was in sight and Baby would be here soon. At this point I felt really lucky to be at home, knowing it was one of our last nights together. We had a “date night” at home and watched movies and relaxed. I took a long bath, painted my toes, and enjoyed what would be my last full nights rest for some time. (I was amazingly able to get 9+ hours!) 

August 9
We spent most of this day cleaning and getting all our last minutes needs taken care of. I set up breastfeeding stations, and gathered the last of what I needed for my hospital bag. Kyle cleaned the house top to bottom and got everything he needed packed and ready. 

6:30 PM
We check in to labor and delivery and get set up in our room. The midwife came in and reviewed that we would be starting on Misoprostel to help ripen what was currently a very closed and posterior cervix (my check with the first midwife the day before confirmed I wasn’t dilated at all.) She told us it was an oral medication that I could take up to 6 times in 12-24 hours depending on how it goes.
I was hooked up to monitors again, given an IV and my first dose of meds before they turned out our lights and told us to get some sleep. 

11PM(ish)
The Misoprostel started regulating a few of my contractions, which I could feel but weren’t painful. The tightening made it hard to sleep, as did the nurses coming in to adjust the baby’s monitor. Baby kept jumping off the monitors, so they would come in and slide the sensor around until they found it. 

August 10
6 AM
The overnight midwife came in and asked if she could check my cervix to see where things were at. I was hopeful that the regular contractions I had felt most of the night had been progress, but was very discouraged to hear (after an incredibly painful exam) that I was only dilated to a 1.5 and still very posterior. I was in tears after the exam, and honestly felt a little traumatized. She recommended that we try a “cooks catheter” and felt confident she could get it in, despite how high everything still was. Desperate to make more progress I agreed. And let her place it. Again—it was incredibly painful and tense.
(For those of you who don’t know a cooks catheter is a manual ripening agent rather than medication based. It has two balloon parts one that sits inside the cervix, and one right below) the balloons are filled with saline, and the weight of them essentially pulls and puts pressure on the cervix to open and dilate. Sounds fun huh?)
After placement, I had what ended up being the most excruciating part of my labor experience. They had warned my I might feel “a little crampy,” but what I ended up feeling was each contraction practically ripping my pelvis into shreds. I was lying in bed, unable to sit up, bawling through each wave of pain, holding Kyle’s hand. This went on for about 2 hours. I told him through tears that I couldn’t do it anymore and that I would definitely be needing an epidural if I had to have this kind of pain for the next 12-24 hours. 

8 AM
I was relieved to hear my regular midwife was now the on call midwife, and seeing her face was so SO good. She was the one I’d seen for all my prenatal appointments, and she knew me and what my plan for labor had been. She came in to touch base and for the first time someone actually asked me how I was doing, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. I cried through my explanation of how I was feeling, and finally felt comfortable asking about some of the what if’s ahead of us. She shared in my desire for a natural labor and confirmed that the few hours after catheter placement were the worst and I should have relief soon. She did tell me that I was not uncommon for induced mamas to need an epidural, and while she would help us do everything we could to stay on goal, she helped me come to terms with the fact that there was absolutely no shame in asking for the extra medication.
The rest of the day was spent trying to stay as comfortable as possible. In the evening, my midwife offered to start me on low dose pitocin to help the catheter do its job a little faster. While I was nervous about starting it, and having more painful contractions, I agreed. We were pretty desperate to make some progress at this point.
My regular midwife, who had been checking on me regularly, let us know that she was pretty sure she wouldn't be around to deliver the baby, but she told us about the next on call midwife and assured us that she would be wonderful and we would like her a lot. 

August 11
Around 1 AM they came in to pull the catheter. Unfortunately I wasn’t dilated enough for it to fall out on it’s own, but the nurse didn’t have to fully deflate it to get it out, so we were hopeful. This next check confirmed I was at a 4.5-5cm and I was SO relieved that we had made progress. Because it was still considered a “manual” dilation, we opted to try the third and final method of ripening, Cervidil. This is a medication they place inside the cervix, and placement was so much easier than the catheter. (THANK GOD) I was taken off the Pitocin drip, but kept baby monitors on.
I was finally able to get some rest and slept from 2-6AM. I got up to use the restroom that morning, and the Cervidil they placed fell out. I had Kyle page the nurse, and she did another check—where she happily reported I was at a 6!
I was able to eat breakfast (first meal in almost 24 hours) and take a shower, and then the new midwife came on and we got started on Pitocin—but for real this time, no more low dose.
We were hopeful that this meant baby would come soon! I made a joke about how grateful we were that despite my gallbladder being the reason we were admitted—it had stayed dormant this whole time.
Around lunch time, I started to feel my the familiar pain—my gallbladder decided to make me a liar. At first I wasn’t concerned, but then it started to pick up and before I knew it, I was doubled over in pain.
My wonderful nurse came in and offered a heat pack, Tylenol, and then finally some Fentanyl. That first does of Fentanyl hit me with a beautiful wave of relief, and laying on the heat pack helped me relax into a nap.
I took a few more doses of fentanyl over the course of the afternoon, but it unfortunately is less effective with each dose, and the last one only lasted about 10 minutes.
At this point I was seriously considering the epidural route simply because I knew I would not be able to cope with a gallbladder flare and any painful contractions.
I had them send the anesthesiologist in to talk about placing it a little higher in order to touch my gallbladder. He unfortunately said they wouldn’t dose it that high for labor, due to the expanded list of risks associated with higher dosing.
After discussing it, Kyle and I both agreed that the epidural route was going to be the best way for us to go--I was exhausted, and still in a lot of pain from my gallbladder.

6PM
Our daytime nurse (who I really liked) rounded us onto the overnight crew and we met Zoey--the nurse who changed my life and honestly carried us all through the delivery. She was spunky, and knowledgeable, and we LOVED her. It was around this time that I asked for the epidural--and she started me on the fluids I would need beforehand. My contractions were well regulated with the Pitocin, but I wasn't feeling them very much. 

7pm (Ish) 

The anesthesiologist came in and placed the epidural--which was the easiest thing ever--honestly it felt like a little pinch and then nothing. The worst part of the epidural was how itchy I felt--it was more annoying than anything. I also didn't love how I couldn't lift my legs, but it was worth the relief I felt. I know they didn't place it high enough on purpose, but it did help with my gallbladder pain, after I was all hooked up, I had no pain in that area. The midwife also broke my water at this point (after the epidural was placed.) I didn't feel that at all, and I am grateful for that.
Zoey helped get me comfortable, and then told us to try and get some rest. I started feeling the pressure from my contractions very regularly, and she told me to page her if I started to feel like I needed to poop. 

August 12
12 AM
I was lying on my right side, straddling the peanut ball, trying to nap (lol) and I started to feel each contraction in my left hip--almost like a hotspot. It was definitely more than "pressure," but it wasn't excruciating. I asked Zoey to help me turn when she came in to check on me, and told her about he pain. She recommended that I try adding an extra dose of meds from the epidural, and turn on my other side to let gravity do it's job with spreading the medication. I did two extra doses before I felt any relief, but it was welcome when it came. I mentioned to Zoey that I could feel consistent pressure in my pelvis through each contraction, but that it subsided when the contractions subsided--it wasn't constant like she had mentioned it might be. She decided to call the midwife down just in case, and started getting things in the room pulled out. She also paged "the baby nurse" to come get set up. It started to feel like it was time, but I was trying not to get too excited. I knew that after they broke my water we were on a time crunch but after three days, I felt like the baby was never coming out. 

1:30 AM

The midwife came in to check me and confirmed that things were moving along--I was finally at a 9 and she could feel the baby's head! She had me do a few practice pushes, and then after a few of those things started changing. In between contractions and pushes both Zoey and Marly (the midwife) would step back and get some things prepped--instruments, monitors, baby blankets, etc. They didn't say much, aside from encouraging words while I was pushing.
It honestly felt like no time at all--which compared to everything else it wasn't, but an hour after I started pushing, baby popped out, and Kyle got to tell me that it was a BOY!
I still can't really grasp or describe how surreal it was to go from being pregnant to having a baby placed on my chest, and having him here. We spent the next hour with him on my chest, getting him latched to start breastfeeding, and cleaned up. I was sewn up, and unhooked from some of the monitors.

3:30AM
I was supposed to move up to postpartum two hours after delivery, but I had a really hard time recovering from labor. I had lost a borderline scary amount of blood, and couldn't stand up in the time they needed me to. They ended up having to replace the catheter after my epidural was pulled (something I would NOT recommend right after pushing a watermelon out of your hoo-haw.) I cried and was shaking through the whole placement. I was pretty out of it still, and they started me on an iron drip to help with the dizziness and nausea. 

6AM
I was still in labor and delivery, trying to recover when the nurse shift change came along. My new nurse was not my style, and I was grateful that I was feeling a little better because it meant I was moving out of her charge. I was able to get up, and walk to the bathroom, and then into the wheelchair so they could get me upstairs into a recovery room. We were so grateful to get up to postpartum, and we were finally able to get some quality sleep. Jack had his newborn tests, and slept like a champ in between. Nursing was established, and we were well on our way to getting home. We ended up staying one full day in postpartum, and it was honestly the best part of our entire stay. I was able to nap, shower, and snuggle my newborn--all while nurses brought me ice water and my meals. 

Overall, I think this experience prepared me for parenthood by showing us just how unpredictable life with a child can be. When we started in on the induction process my expectation was that it would be 24 hours start to finish and I'd have a baby in my arms. Instead, I spent three days getting my body into labor, and then a full day in active labor before I was able to push and deliver the little guy. I am hopeful that I won't need to be induced for the next one, and that I can let my body do its thing. At my 6 week postpartum check, my regular midwife mentioned she was worried this wasn't a necessary induction. While I do see her thinking--I was 38 weeks with this little guy and he was already 9 pounds, 6 ounces. We both agreed that while it may not have been necessary, it probably saved me from pushing out a 10 or 11 pound baby, and for that I am grateful! 

Jack--9.2020

 I spend my mornings snuggling this sweet boy, and today we pulled out the handy Nikon and practiced some shots. I'm pretty rusty, and I had to fix the exposure in most of these (thank you Lightroom!) but it was so fun having such a handsome model. He has no idea how many more photoshoots his future holds! 

Things Postpartum Taught Me

I wrote this to help me remember, and to hopefully help another mama/soon to be mama adjust to their new normal.

It's OK to feel like you know nothing. 

Bringing home a baby is a BIG DEAL. I can’t even count the number of times Kyle and I have looked at each other puzzled, or pulled out our phones to google something, or uttered the words “I don’t know, this is my first time too!” At first this was so overwhelming and frankly, kind of frustrating. I’m not known for “winging it.” But honestly, that’s kind of how the past few weeks have gone for us...and it’s OKAY. We still don’t know how everything is going to go, but it feels a whole lot less overwhelming now. 

Baby snuggles are THE best

There is NOTHING and I mean NOTHING better than sitting with a sleeping (or awake but content) newborn baby. I honestly never thought I would want to be pregnant again, but this *might* be enough to convince me. 

The dishes can wait. 

I don’t even know how many times I read this on blogs and advice forums—but it’s SO TRUE. Kyle and I usually keep a pretty tidy home. I knew this was going to be hard to let go, but honestly, it’s not the end of the world. I’m currently sitting in a recliner with bubs napping on my lap, staring at a house that is in shambles. There are dirty swaddles waiting to be washed, dishes in the sink from yesterday, and a kitchen floor that is in desperate need of a good scrubbing. But you know what? 4 weeks ago, I pushed out a 9lb watermelon sized human out of my body, and it’s more than OK that I’m not feeling up to cleaning my house. It’s also OK that even when I do have spurts I’d energy/feel up to things, that I sit and hold my baby while he sleeps...or that I make a run to the grocery store for some alone time. Baby is not going to be this small ever again, and I’m trying to soak up every glorious moment I can—and the solo trips are good for my sanity. Our house will be clean again one day. 

Sleep deprivation is not the end of the world. 

Of all the things I was most worried about postpartum, dealing with the sleep deprivation was the top of my list. It might sound silly, but I’ve never functioned well on less than 8 hours and I was legitimately scared of being a grouchy grump all the time. On average, I get about 4-5 hours of broken sleep at night. I am able to nap during the day—and usually try and steal an hour or two when Kyle is available to hold/help, but I haven’t slept more than 3 hours straight for two weeks now and it’s not been nearly as bad as I thought. Granted, I’m currently nursing a venti iced coffee, and I’m writing this post nap, but I’ve really done better than I expected functioning on such little amounts of sleep.

You can and will make the right choice for you and your baby. 

Having a baby opens up an entire new world of decisions and choices to be made...EVERY DAY. Should you wake the baby to feed so you hit the 12 recommended feedings a day or let them sleep for an extra 40 minutes? Should you offer a pacifier before 4 weeks or hold off until your supply is regulated? Should you pump to boost supply or only feed on demand? Is it okay to have that coffee even if the baby is going to feed before that 2 hour mark? Honestly, it’s overwhelming and google only makes it worse. It took a bit, but I’ve learned it’s best to trust your gut and make the decision that keeps you sane and your baby happy. 

Our bodies are incredible. 

I am honestly shocked at what my body has been through and how my perspective and attitude about myself has changed. First and foremost, I’m so grateful to not be pregnant. Even with all the postpartum healing, I feel so much more comfortable in my own skin. Of course I’m soft, and my belly skin hangs a little looser than before but I can stand up without grunting, and I can sleep on my belly, and my insides feel like they are so much more secure (you know not going to fall out with every step.) 

I was so nervous about how my body would change and if I would be able to love it again—you pretty much only read horror stories (or how someone had to work hard to love their body again.) This was not my story. My story was falling in love with my body felt like the most natural next step.

Honestly I’m kind of in awe of my body and the incredible changes it’s been through—not to mention how it works all day every day to feed my baby. I’ve never felt more comfortable or confident in my skin—and I have becoming a mama to thank for that.

All in all, being a mom is everything I’ve ever wanted and I’m so content with my life. Even with all of the scary things in the world right now, I feel at peace and at home in my new space. It’s been a big adjustment, but one happily made. 

An Update

I remembered I had a blog today. It's been so long since I've sat down to write anything that wasn't my novel. In fact, I sat down today to work on that, but that felt like too much work right now, so here we are.
I'm trying to remember the last update I left on here--something about going vegan I think. That's still true. but here are a few things that you might not know:

1. We live in the PNW again! It's been almost a year since the big move back and it was a good decision. Kyle found a job he loves (thanks Heidi) and so did I (thanks again Heidi!) We are starting to look for a house and It seems like such a grown up thing to be doing, and I don't feel quite ready.

2.  I work at a vet clinic. While it wasn't really supposed to be a permanent thing, I've found a space with people I love and work I enjoy. I've made friends and settled back into a pretty regular social life. (go me!) My job also gives me the availability to write, which might be the biggest perk of all.

3. I've started meeting with a writer's group regularly and it's done wonders for my writing life. I get excited to sit down and do the work, and I'm motivated knowing I have people waiting on my chapters. It's still really hard work, and there are definitely days (like today) when I want to rip my hair out because the ideas are all in my head, but the words aren't forming on the page quite as easily. 

4. Kyle works at a construction company, and he loves it. He gets to do all sorts of things with numbers and spreadsheets. It's so good to see him doing something that makes him feel good, and I appreciate that he loves it even if I don't get it--like at all.

Overall our life is happy. We feel like we are back home, and there is nothing quite like that. I can't wait to see where the next few years take us. I'm at the end of things I can think of sharing, so back to finishing my chapter I go...

How Cutting All Animal Products Helped Me Regain Balance

Going back through my blog's history, I've found there are a TON of "Hey look I"m starting a new diet" posts, and nothing ever really stuck. I would start, full throttle on something, survive a few weeks (if that) and then fall off whatever bandwagon I'd been hitched to. I wanted to write about this one right away as well, but decided to hold off until I could actually report my findings, and not just my excitement for a new way of living. But here I am ready to report on my 5 months in on eating a whole foods, plant based diet....aka a vegan diet.

Kyle and I started after a particularly binge ridden few weeks, in an effort to detox our poor bodies, and shed a few extra pounds. We wanted to incorporate more vegetables, and after watching one Netflix documentary or another about the dangers of animal products, we decided to take a break. At the time, we didn't put a time limit on it, we just wanted to try something new.

While many people (myself included before making this change) see veganism as the equivalent of eating rabbit food with no flavor, I've found that this has worked for us. We eat a wide range of foods, even some of our favorites - just modified a little. The benefits range from clearer skin, more energy, reduced inflammation (aka no more sciatica pain for Kyle), weight-loss, and regulated hormones. (no more mood swings for me!) The biggest benefit I've found, however, is that my relationship with food has changed for the better.

As someone who struggles with binge eating, and has some dangerous food habits, this lifestyle change has made a tremendous difference in the way that I see and think about food. I've started to eat "intuitively," which pretty much means I eat when I'm hungry, and stop when I'm full. I rarely overindulge, and when I do, I don't sit there bemoaning myself for hours afterward. When we do eat vegan junk (trust me, there is plenty) we almost always follow it up with a big bowl of vegetables at our next meal. We no longer eat fast food, or out at restaurants at all really, and our meals are 95% fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.

I no longer feel the need to restrict anything because I've learned to listen to my body, and actually hear what it's saying. I eat as many carbs as I can get my hands on, and I still feel great at the end of the day. I have clarity when it comes to seeing what my body needs, and it's awesome. I no longer feel the need to calorie count, or "watch what I eat," because I've found the balance I've been craving. Ironic that cutting out over 30% of the average American diet lead to feeling balanced, but here we are.

I think part of this balance comes from the fact that a lot of the junk food we used to eat is no longer an option. By making these clear cut boundaries, it helps make choices for me. I no longer fight the urge to grab every cookie in the break room because I know they will make me sick for the rest of the day. Kyle made the point the other day, he doesn't even feel the need to get candy any more because all the good stuff is off limits (chocolate mostly.) There's nothing like the threat of debilitating stomach cramps to ward off any pesky cravings.

I would like to clarify: hold no judgement for anyone who eats animal products. Animal rights, reducing my carbon footprint, and lowering our grocery bill are all just nice side effects to me taking control of my own health, rather than the ultimate goal. I still get annoyed with vegans who feel the need to make other people feel bad for eating cheese. I understand that this lifestyle is not for everyone, and will cheer you on as you eat you bacon cheeseburger! You do you!

There are definitely things I still miss, but overall the benefits outweigh the downsides. I can get over not being able to have eggs for breakfast when it means I won't be a cranky pants all day. It's been a great experience for me, and while I can't say that I'll be doing this forever, I can say I'll be maintaining for the foreseeable future.

And to get even more new age and hippy on you, stay tuned for my next post about essential oils!

5 Things To Do When You're Stuck In A Rut

Every once in a while I get stuck in a rut. I feel my world creeping up around me, and can't seem to find the next step to break out. My creativity falls short, my health goes by the way side, and eventually dissatisfaction and negative attitudes are daily accessories.
Sometimes it takes moving across the country (cough cough) to kick those out of the way, but that shouldn't be my answer for everything (despite it sounding incredibly appealing sometimes.)
Most of the time, I have to find a way to break out of the rut right where I am, and with the resources I have in front of me.
I've recently broken free from a space like this, and I'd like to share a few things I did to help kick that negativity to the curb.

1. Unplug
Ironically this was prompted by plugging into a new podcast, but regardless I stand by it.
I started listening to a podcast on minimalism (The Minimalists) and in the first few episodes, they touch on how we are bombarded with technology, and have so much of it all the time. They mentioned cleaning out your phone (getting rid of apps you haven't used in the last month) and actively choosing to unplug. I tried this for a few days in a desperate attempt to break my candy crush habit. I tried to limit how much I was on my phone by setting limits at work, as well as at home. I pushed myself to set mini goals like "don't check your phone until lunchtime," or " no phone time for an hour before bed."
I noticed the effects almost immediately. I was sleeping better, could engage more fully in conversations, and was finding other ways to use all of that time. I became more productive, and felt the tingle of creativity starting to ignite again.

2. Stimulate
Related to the previous point, I find it's incredibly helpful to stimulate the parts of your brain that haven't been used in a while. Before last week, I couldn't tell you the last book I picked up to read. That's a little ridiculous. I'M A READER. It's what I do! Unfortunately, I'd let the every day tasks in life (as well as some Netflix and candy crush) replace something so precious to me. My books.
For some, stimulating your brain may be crafting, or painting, or doing puzzles. For me, it's reading. I've renewed my love for the library and plan to go every few weeks for some new books. The idea that there are new ideas out there just waiting to be discovered is incredibly exciting, and I am ready for it.
I've also picked up my writing again. Honestly, the first few days were filling out journal prompts from this book: 300 Writing Prompts. It was rough at first, and honestly I struggled. The prompts seemed boring, and it felt like I wasn't doing anything to further my pursuit in writing a book, so why try? Well, those journal entries turned into an article that I got published last week (If you missed it you can find it here) as well as a few pages started on a new creative projects (eeek!) Stimulating that part of my brain felt impossible. When creativity isn't readily available, I'm the first person to throw my hands in the air (And wave...wait) and act like I'll never get there, so why try? Sometimes a little (boring) stimulation can help get those creative juices flowing again.

3. Sweat
It doesn't have to be much, even just a walk around the block (or around Sprint Festival Plaza....heyyyo) can pluck you right out of that rut your digging. The other day I went running for the first time in who know how long. I took the dogs for a walk, and about 5 minutes in, decided I needed to push myself a little further. My body was craving that activity I'd denied it for so long. I ran for almost an hour, and it was refreshing. It was like I was pushing the sludge out of my muscles. That run turned into one gym session, and then another, and now I have set goals, and look forward to pushing my body to new limits. Getting outside, or to the gym, or even to your living room floor to get your heart pumping, and I promise you'll start to see the edge of that rut.

4. Cleanse
Your house, your face, your hard drive. Clean it all out. Taking the time to curate your belongings, and cut down to more of the essentials, as well as focusing on clearing out the dust and grime from all those nooks and crannies helps give way for fresh ideas, and new thinking. Having clean and tidy surroundings, helps motivate me to be my best self. If I have a clean house, I feel more put together and adult. I recently started doing facials again, and my skin feels amazing. These small things lead to making me feel like I can do anything.

5. Laugh
I'm really lucky in that I have a VERY funny husband. He can get me laughing in a matter of minutes. Sometimes, however, when I'm feeling stuck, or depressed, I don't let myself laugh. I scowl and get upset at something trivial and it ruins the moment. Letting go, and letting myself laugh at all of Kyle's rather silly antics helps loosen things up, and change my perspective. Whether it's a funny friend, or a funny movie, go find time to let yourself laugh.

Grief

Grief is an odd thing.
On one hand, it is an incredibly personal experience, and each person deals with it in their own way. It's unique to each situation, and the way we experience it can change day to day. On the other hand it's something to be expected. While each person may be dealing with it differently, there are life experiences where people expect to grieve. The loss of a parent is one of these experiences.
For those of you who do not know, or are not close to my family, my dad, Garrett Smith was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer in May of this year. At that time, the doctors gave him six months to a year to live. He chose to forgo any kind of formal treatment, other than pain management, to help his quality of life.
After receiving the phone call that he was sick, and going to die, I was rather surprised at the way it affected me. I was overcome with a tidal wave of emotions. I struggled with the fact that there would be no reconciliation after this year. For the past 23 years of my life, I have not been close with him, and have done my part to keep my distance. There were feelings, thoughts, emotions, and dramas in that relationship that have colored the way I view him, and really everything surrounding him. But the picture in my head of us eventually making up, and finding that relationship every one talked about, was shattered.
At that point in time, Kyle and I decided together, to forget the past and focus on the time we had left. There was a man in Seattle who I knew virtually nothing about, but who had given me half of who I am. It was time to try and fix whatever I could.
While I cannot say the relationship is where I imagined it would be, I feel like it's in a better place than it was 6 months ago. I've said my piece, and feel like I've changed dramatically as a person. My thoughts and attitudes towards Garrett have improved. I'm no longer bitter about the relationship we never had, however, I am saddened by the relationship we will be unable to have.
As I've made my way through this grieving process, I've experienced a multitude of emotions. I've been angry, heartbroken, embarrassed, hopeful, depressed, and numb. I've felt multiple emotions at once, and none at all, within the same day.
Grieving a parent or loved one who has a terminal illness is a slow and painful experience. It doesn't go away, and it seems to get better, only for it to get worse. I've had days where all I say to Kyle is, "I'm fine." and other days when I cry standing in front of the produce aisle at the grocery store. There are days when I want every update I can get my hands on, and other days when I don't want to know anything, and just ignore the whole thing.
Most of the time, I'm uncomfortable, and trying to figure my way through all of this, and because it's such a weird experience, I don't talk about it. Yes, there are times I will share, but usually my day to day emotions are just mine (and shared with Kyle.) I have found, however, that writing my way through this, or at least some of it has helped untangle the mess.
As part of my grieving process, I've been making a list. This list is composed of things that I'll remember, as well as things I feel I've gotten from Garrett, despite our lacking relationship. Somehow I think things are passed along genetically, and I would like to share a few of those with you today.

1. My love of a good cup of coffee
A few weeks after we found out he was sick, Kyle and I made our way up to see him and Cyndi for the day. We spent the day chatting, and catching up, and while we were there, learned that Garrett has a unique fascination with the art of brewing coffee. He has every contraption you could possibly think of for grinding, brewing, and serving coffee. He gave us tips on making the best pot, and has forever changed me from typical coffee pots to french press coffee. It really does brew a superior cup, if done correctly.

2. My love of a good play on words
While I don't have many memories with him, one thing I remember distinctly is Garrett sitting in his truck, repeating, and chuckling over a good pun, or a well-crafted joke. I remember one time we were talking about the beauty of words, and he introduced me to the word "Winsome." It's a beautiful sounding word, with a matching definition. It's been a word I've looked to use, but have never quite found the right occasion, though it has stuck with me since.

3. My inability to finish every project I start
While I'm sure it irritated Cyndi to no end, I remember Garrett having a torn apart, half-built tractor in the driveway for YEARS. As I've grown older, I've come to realize that I have that same gusto for starting projects, but get distracted with other things before I have a chance to finish. Just ask Kyle, we have about 4 DIY projects sitting on our front porch, just waiting for me to go back and pick them up again.

4. My artistic sensibilities
Going hand in hand with the half finished projects, Garrett and I share a love for hand crafted goods and creative works. While we often focus them in different ways, I feel we both have a tendency to lean towards the artistic and creative side of things. I remember he was always working on some project, and it saddens me a great deal to know that he is in a space now where he cannot work on those projects, or artistic endeavors.

5. My sense of humor
We have a very similar sense of humor, and I'm pleased to say Kyle has a little bit of it too. As a teenager I remember he'd make a joke, and as angst-y as I was, I would try to muffle a laugh. He's got a way with jokes, and is quick on his feet.

6. My height
While I haven't always appreciated it, I know that it was always impressive for me to be able to say "my dad is 6'9"." I still get a kick out of the look on people's faces when they imagine just how tall that really is.

7. My affinity for good (foreign) food.
I do need to give credit to both parents for this one, but Garrett was the first person to introduce me to Thai, Vietnamese, and Indian food. I remember him taking me to the pink and teal Vietnamese place in Bremerton, and ordering spring rolls and coconut juice. Also, Bubble tea. Before it was the cool thing to drink he was ordering me a mango tea, and him a durian fruit bubble tea. (Said it tasted like floor wax.) I remember him telling me stories about how he used to eat avocado in Brazil with sugar on it. (Still haven't tried that one.)
To go along with this one, I remember one Tuesday night we drove around and got ice cream cones from every McDonald's in town, to see which one had the best large cones.

While this is definitely not a complete list, it has many of the things I've thought about in the past few months. I know as the days pass, his illness is growing, and there aren't many days left. He's a good man, and has done a lot of good in this world. It's hard to watch him fade, and harder to know that he won't be around much longer. I know the grieving process has only started , and that it will get so much worse before it gets better again. But it's also sort of comforting to know that in some small way, be it a large ice cream cone from McDonald's, or a fresh cup of coffee, he won't really be gone.
I think it's important to remember that the people we love can still be a part of our lives if we remember to remember.