We just came home from the doctor and we have answers! While it looks like it is going to be a very long road to recovery, we at least have a destination on that road. The diagnosis is autoimmune hepatitis. Now, I should emphasize that this is not a contagious form of hepatitis (like A, B, C, or D). Simply put, Doug's autoimmune system was somehow threatened and is now not recognizing his liver as his own. So, his immune system is fighting against his liver and causing him to feel nauseous, fatigued, and generally wiped out. Knowing the name of what we are dealing with and fighting against brings us some peace.

As far as treatment, this looks like it will be a long long journey. He will be taking some steroidal medications which should help him feel better in a couple of weeks. He will also be having a liver biopsy to determine to what extent we are dealing with the hepatitis. The treatment is going to take 2-3 years. Yes. You heard me. Years. The rate of recurrence of this is also 30-40% at some point in the future.

I am so happy that we have direction but I am so sad that, first of all, it is going to take a couple of weeks before he will feel any better. I am also sad that he has to potentially deal with this all over again at some point. I have always been blessed to have healthy people around me. Major illnesses just don't happen to us. So all of the emotions that come along with doctor's appointments. tests, and medications are so new to me. For whatever reason, while my recurrent losses were emotional, this feeling is very different. I think it was because, even if I was never able to have more children, my existence wasn't threatened. My individual "quality of life" wasn't directly effected in a long term way. This is a new place I find myself in, but God must have chosen this road for us for a reason.

Doug will be fine, but I think that the last week or so has really reminded me about what is important. It is so easy for me to get caught up in having another baby, but my husband's health is so much more important to me. I need him and he needs me. So... while my husband is on the mend, I think our effort to add to our family is going to be on hold- unless of course I am already pregnant (and there is a chance for that). I know that God's timing is perfect so I am putting it in His hands.

Thank you for all of the prayers!!



(I promise to get back to more festive and fun posts soon!)


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It is days like today that make me question if I am really ready for another baby. Last night, Joey fell asleep like a dream and then, after about 3 hours of good sleep, he was done. He started crying and would fall back asleep for about 10 minutes. Which, coincidentally, was just long enough for me to get comfortable, warm, and halfway to Sleepytown. I would do this same agonizing cycle for a couple of hours when I finally gave up.

I let Joey sleep in bed with us. He always sleeps like a log when he is nestled between Doug and I. He rests his arm on my head or back and will sleep soundly until Gavin shouts, "Time to wake up!" promptly at 7 AM. Last night was a little different though. Gavin had his first nightmare. At 3 years old, he hasn't been able to really explain what it was about but inferring from the scream at 3:30 AM, it had something to do with a missing sock. Yes. A nightmare about a missing sock. I found him in the hallway, shouting, "I need my sock back!!! I need my sock back!!!" through tears of shear agony. It broke my heart to see him so scared and disturbed but I couldn't help but smile that his first bad dream was about a sock.

I took him to the bathroom to hopefully distract him from the thoughts of the dream. I reassured him that I would help him find any and all socks when the sun came up. I tucked him back into bed and shared a few minutes of cuddling and told him how much I loved him. I crawled back into bed next to Joey who was awake but calm. I was about to drift off when I realized that the monitor that goes to Gavin's room wasn't working because I could hear him calling for me but his voice was coming through the wall, not the monitor. After a couple of minutes of figuring out the monitor, Gavin started crying that he needed to go potty. Again. Doug volunteered to take him this time. He finally settled back in. And we all got to have a couple more hours of sleep.

We had a pleasant morning until we discovered that our heat wasn't working and there wasn't any firewood brought in the house. Since the inside temperature was 61 degrees, it was a good day to go shopping. That went well and both boys were manageable. Once we returned and ate lunch, it wasn't long before nap time arrived. Joey hasn't been napping very well or very long lately so I was prepared for a challenge on that front. Gavin, on the other hand, had been telling me all morning how he was still tired. After last night, I can't say that I was surprised. I was tired too. So, I took Gavin up for his nap. Then fed Joey and took him up for his nap. Joey, was acting tired but wanted me to stand right by his crib while he fell asleep. Meanwhile I am hearing Gavin shouting, "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!? CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" Of course Joey was hearing it too and listening attentively to his shrill shouts.

I walked away from the crib to hear Joey instantly scream. I went to Gavin to ask him what he needed, trying to maintain my patience despite being able to feel the anxiety and shear exhaustion bubbling up. He requested some books to read. Okay. Easy enough. I go back to Joey's room and get him settled back down again. I finally see him drift off to sleep. I come downstairs to unwind, relax, watch some TV that isn't animated, and blog. I had just enough time to log into my computer to hear Gavin, in his innocent yet seemingly manipulative voice say the dreaded words, "I have to go potty." In my effort to get everyone along to nap, I had forgotten to make sure he went potty before he went to bed. My eyes actually started to water. Not exactly tears but just moisture that wanted to drip out to relieve some of the stress. Upstairs I go. Then, almost as if he was determined to ensure that I didn't have time to do anything other than tend to him, he tells me, "I am going to go pee. Then poop." Ugg.

So, as I finally am able to sit down and relax without any little voices, I have to wonder... Am I really ready to add to my family? I know that in a few months, today will be just a distant memory. Everyone has rough days, right? I wonder if there is ever an ideal time to add to a family. Won't there always be rough times no matter their ages? Maybe this is God's way of showing me, "See. I know what I am doing. I'll add to your family when I know you are ready."

Clearly, I am not ready today.