A Tribute

The last words Hollis said to me were this: “Sweetheart, I’m sorry I let you down.” You see, he wanted more than anything to meet my son before he died. But that statement sums up who Hollis Rudd was. He could never do enough for others. Even on his deathbed, all he could think about were the things he was leaving undone. Hollis embodied, perhaps better than anyone I ever knew, the twin commandments of “Love your God with all your heart,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself”. I know he wasn’t perfect. I know he had a temper like no other. I’ve seen it. But that wasn’t who Hollis was. He loved deeply, even if he didn’t always show it. He worshipped deeply, even if he didn’t make every Sunday service. There was nothing he wanted more than to see his family happy, healthy, and successful, and he did what he had to do to make that happen. He was a hard worker, perhaps to a fault. I remember one time he had my brother out mowing the lawn a week after his appendectomy. My mother was absolutely livid. But he instilled that work ethic in his children and grandchildren. He taught us to do what we can for ourselves and for others, and when we reached the end of our strength, to draw on God’s strength and keep on fighting. He also knew the importance of enjoying life. His favorite place in the whole world was right on Grigsby Lake where he could enjoy the outdoors and the simple experience of being alone with God’s creation. Even when he was too weak to work in his yard, he wanted nothing more than to be at the lake. He was also one of the most knowledgeable, thoughtful people I’ve ever met. He wasn’t particularly educated, but that didn’t stop him from learning and analyzing what he’d learned. He was confident in his beliefs, but that didn’t limit his desire to learn about other systems of belief. He was a staunch Democrat, but he loved me even when I was a Republican. (I’m neither now, just FYI. I consider myself a moderate.) He taught us to respect everyone, no matter who they are, what they believe, or how they treat you. But he also taught us to stand up for ourselves. And I think he succeeded in raising his children to be good people. Hollis was a good man, and he will be missed. I already miss him.

Sweet Dreams

I've heard that vivid, strange dreams are a side effect of pregnancy, but I wasn't particularly worried about it since I frequently have vivid, strange dreams. But they weren't kidding. I've had dreams about everything from family members attacking me to CFOs getting upset over thirty minutes' overtime. Normally they don't worry me. But a few nights ago I had a very life-like dream that Lane came three months early (which, if you're counting, would be right NOW). This alone wouldn't be enough to really upset me, except that I've had several previous dreams about pregnancy complications. So I'm a little worried. I know it's silly, because I know the more I worry, the more I'm going to dream about bad things happening. And I've been taking very good care of myself (if you overlook the donuts this morning, that is) so I know that there really should be nothing wrong. I guess I'll just have to fight my subconscious for three more months.

Ends, Beginnings, and Everything in Between

Ends. Well, the family took Granddaddy home this week, but it quickly became obvious that Mom and my aunt La Juan couldn't take care of him there. Both of them have ended up on the floor with him more than once, and both of them have gone without sleep most of the week/weekend to care for him. So, they're going to try and take him back to the nursing home tomorrow. I know he's going to fight them, but the two of them can't keep on, and I can't help them do a lot because of my er, condition. (Mostly though, Mom won't let me help. She thinks lifting a book is going to hurt the baby.) Honestly, even though it hurts, I am praying that God will take him home peacefully, and soon. It hurts me to see him in this condition, and it hurts me to see his children hurting themselves to make him comfortable.

Beginnings. I had a realization today that August is right around the corner. And even though I'm excited about the baby and can't wait for him to be here, I'm not ready. We're not ready. The house is not ready. I am so unprepared for this. Everyone says that everything will fall into place, but it just doesn't feel like that. I really hope it does, because it's going to have to. I know women have been having babies since there were women to have them. But how do I go from being me to being a mother? God knows, I don't.

Everything in between. Work has been ridiculous. I have been so exhausted that I haven't been cleaning like I should be. The clothes are piling up, the sink is full of dishes, and I really need to mop the floors. But God still loves me, and so does my husband. It will get clean eventually. Also, Darcy has randomly decided he wants to be a friendly, inside cat. A few nights ago he virtually assaulted me about 2 am demanding to be petted. This is odd for him. Usually he tries to bite me when I scratch his head. So I guess it's good that he's being friendly. The bad thing about this, is that he's not really litter box savvy. The last time he tried to use a box he missed it completely. So the bathtub has become the litter box. This is not acceptable. I haven't decided what to do about this. Maybe he'll figure it out. Oh and, if anyone is looking for a cat, let me know. I still have four foster cats, and my brother's cat just had kittens. Whee.

The Aches of Life

Some of you have noticed that I periodically post asking for prayer for my family. So I guess I'll let you in on what's going on. About a month ago, my grandfather had pneumonia, which led him to aspirate. That was the beginning of the trouble. The doctors thought he would make a full recovery, so we vented him and allowed them to do some respiratory therapy. Well, now his kidneys are failing. He was suffering from renal failure before he got sick, but it wasn't bad enough to warrant dialysis, and it sort of planed out at a certain functional percentage. But now, the kidneys just can't work hard enough to keep his heart and lungs going. He's been going to dialysis for a couple of weeks now, and has periodically mentioned stopping it. Well last night, he decided he was done and he was going home. So he's at home, basically waiting on his kidneys to shut down. I don't expect him to last more than a few weeks. But, I also didn't expect him to make it this long. This is particularly hard on me because he's more like a second father to me than a grandfather. And I know that he really wanted to see the baby. In fact, over the weekend while my mom and aunt were fighting with the nurses and aides, he leaned over to me and said, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry I let you down". Needless to say I lost it. It's also been very stressful for my mother. She's so determined to be there for him that she's killing herself. It's a very sad time for the Rudd children.

But on the lighter side, Lane is growing every day. It seems like overnight I get bigger and bigger. He has settled down some, but he's still got some power behind those little kicks and punches. The other day I thought he was going to suffocate me by pushing one of my other internal organs into my lungs. Okay, maybe that's a little melodramatic, but still. He's also insistent on using my bladder for a pillow. It's still fun. I'm ready for August though. I can't wait to meet the little guy :)

Over the halfway mark

Lane has learned a new trick. It's called "kick Mommy in the most ticklish spot I possibly can". Somehow, he's managed to find the one spot that is guaranteed to make me laugh no matter what is going on, and he exploits it. It's kind of cute. But, I have a feeling that this kid is going to be rather hyper, because even now he doesn't stay still more than a minute or two. It's going to be a fun few months, followed by years of exhaustion trying to keep up with him. I can't wait :) At least I have hyper dogs that can keep up with him.

I bought my first onesie Friday too. It says "mommy's new man". Bealls was having their fabulous buy one get one for a dollar sale, so since I was there shopping anyway, I got a cute onesie for $1. How awesome is that? I'm also trying to build my registry, but it is harder than I thought. All I can really think of that I need are diapers, burp cloths, onesies, and then a lot of expensive stuff like cribs and strollers. Anyway, I know everything will work out.

Oh, boy

Yes, we had our 20 week ultrasound today and we discovered that our little tadpole is a boy, despite his best efforts to hide from us. He sat Indian-style most of the appointment and refused to move, making it impossible for the sonogram tech to find his bladder, feet, or sex organs. But he finally gave in and stretched out enough for her to get what she needed. Mark couldn't stop grinning. Of course, we couldn't finish the ultrasound without my mom coming in to see (I had no idea she was coming). In any case, we are both very excited.

It was a day of mixed emotions, however. My grandfather has been in the hospital since last Tuesday because he aspirated. He's been on and off the ventilator, but over the weekend they had him on oxygen only. Today, however, they had to put him on a bi-pap (I know I'm spelling that wrong, all you medical professionals, but I'm too lazy to look up the correct spelling) machine. For those not in the medical field or don't have the good fortune to already know what that is, essentially it is a machine that forces the patient to breathe. Essentially, it is life support. In other words, he's not doing well. I went to see him at the hospital after my appointment to tell him that he was having another grandson, and despite my best efforts, ended up crying in front of him. His only words to me (and I pray they are not his last) were "God bless you and your son". I can't even type that without tearing up. He has meant so much to me over the years, and it is incredibly hard to see him in such a condition. While it doesn't look good, I know God can do amazing things, so I'm not giving up just yet. Ah. Yeah. Moving on.

Something worthy of note. I came home today to find Mark working in the bedroom, which was a good thing. What I didn't expect was to find out that the exterior wall was just sort of tacked on, which means that the room was at one time not enclosed. I guess it makes sense, seeing as there is not a fireplace in that room and the floors are different. Basically, the people who built the house were poor and doing with what they could. I guess that makes it perfect for us. We have our work cut out for us. And by us, I mean Mark.

Heart to Heart

So about three weeks ago, my heart palpitations got really bad. For those of you who didn't know, I've had a periodic ventricular fibrillation since I was about 19. I was on beta blockers for it until I got pregnant, but then, like everything else, I had to stop. So, my OBGYN referred me to a cardiologist. The news is mostly good. The echo/sono showed no physical defect of my heart, which is wonderful news. But the fact remains that I still have an extra beat every now and then. A halter monitor revealed this - which is what I've been trying to get a doctor to believe for almost a decade (apparently people my age don't EVER have heart problems...) So since I can't take my meds still, we're trying a few other methods of control. First off is diet, which I was already practicing for the most part. Low sodium, no extra salt, bladahbladah. It's harder than you think. Just take a look at the sodium content of the things you buy that the grocery store, and then consider that I am only allowed 1600 mgs a day (which is not an unreasonable request for a healthy person.) I'm also walking again, five days a week at least. I had been doing that before I got pregnant, but the lack of energy sort of squashed that. I'm also on a potassium and magnesium supplement, which sparked a rather annoying argument with a pharmacy tech who thought I should know that MagOx was OTC and not prescription with no prior knowledge of the blasted thing whatsoever, and then refused to help me find it. And inevitably I found out the hard way that you aren't supposed to take that stuff on an empty stomach. Running through the church foyer to ensure that you don't lose what little breakfast you did eat all over the sanctuary is not a good way to start the morning. Then again, neither is blogging while you're supposed to be recording service.