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What I Learned This Week – 9/9/12

I learned this week that the power of positive thinking does in fact manifest great things.

My fellow blogger LazyHippieMama this week manifested herself a trip to Disney World. She simply asked clearly for what she wanted and ye shall receive!

This week I stumbled and bumbled and begged the universe for my son’s urologist to give us a good report. It wasn’t a glowing report. But he also didn’t say anything was wrong either. (Which, as a mother, leaves me a little in limbo.) He said the portable ultrasound my son had a month ago was good enough to see that his kidney was still large (bad), but not dilated (good), and that it could take several years for it to return to a more normal size (as it has been enlarged since the womb). He said we should come back in November for a regular ultrasound, just to keep an eye on things.

My son at the McDonald’s Play Place, about an hour after the doctor gave us a good review.


This week I also became the proud owner of a new modem, then in turn, a new router. But, maybe this was manifested too. After all, I never doubted that we would have Internet back soon. OK, so I didn’t doubt…much.

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So Eager


Do all first time parents feel the need to give their child every experience right away? Or are my husband and I just like that because our son had medical issues?

My husband and I bought my son, M, a shiny, new, red Radio Flyer tricycle…when he was just two months old. And, of course, my husband assembled it right away. My son is now 21 months old. We recently brought the tricycle down from the attic. He enjoys sitting on it and pushing it around, but he doesn’t have the hang of pedaling yet. Yes, we realize we are a little crazy.

But this doesn’t stop at tricycles. My son sat on Santa’s lap when he was just 15 days old. In his first year, M attended his first hockey game and his first baseball game. He was so young for the baseball game that the crowd’s cheering bothered him. He seemed kind of oblivious to the hockey game. M rode a carousel–twice.

At the animatronic dino souvenir store (check out the AWESOME T-shirt)


By the time M turned 18 months, he had had two rides on a real full-size train. He also had been on his first vacation, to a family event in North Carolina. Not yet two, he has now also racked up his first penny pony ride at Meijer, and seen life-size animatronic dinosaurs. M has ridden a Ferris Wheel. He has seen a full-size Thomas the tank engine, racking up yet another real train ride. He must just think that kids get to ride trains all the time. I think I was in middle school before I ever got to ride on a full-size train. There are probably some people who go their whole lives never riding one. (I like trains, can you tell? Random Fact: Also, lighthouses.)

To top it all off, M has already had his first flight. And not on a commercial airline or for vacation. We had an opportunity at a local festival to go up in a four seater Cessna and fly over our own house. M wasn’t scared at all. In fact, he fell asleep. (In case anyone cares, I got a little nauseous.)

I just wonder if this is normal behavior for parents. My asbestos fiend has a boy six months younger than M. She doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to have him participate in life events before he is old enough to appreciate them, as we do. But then again, this is her second child. I don’t know how she felt with her first child. My asbestos friend lived clear across the country when her first was born.

Are we so eager because we are first time parents? Or is it because my son was born with an issue with his urinary system that required surgery at 6 months of age? Surgery that had complications. I know I really felt the rush to “hurry up” and “make experiences” with M while he was laying in the Pediatric ICU. My husband wanted to get a family portrait done as soon as M was born. I put him off and told him we would do it for Christmas, for our Christmas cards. Sitting in the hospital with my son, all I could think was that if he died before we got a family picture taken, my husband would never forgive me.

We got the picture taken on my son’s first birthday.

On television shows and in movies, the new mother always gazes down lovingly at her newborn child. I was not that mother. I found that I could not even let my heart fully love my son til he was almost a year old. It was a mechanism I used to guard myself, in case he should die from his medical issues or from the complications a surgery could bring. (Morbid, I know. And it hurts my heart to write it now. And it hurt my heart to live all this.)

M has a follow-up appointment on Wednesday. It makes my chest tight just to think about it. Our last appointment brought good news. I don’t know how to ask the universe or pray to God or beg and plead for more good news. I can’t handle a nephro tube or surgery again. I can’t. And my boy wants to put that all behind him and play with his Cozy Coupe and Thomas Wooden Railway (“toot-toot” he says). Please, everyone put in a good thought for him. And I will in return wish that you all get a moment to yourself to enjoy an ice cream.

What will be the next life experience we rush my son into before he turns three? Run for President of the United States? Trip to the moon?

You guys are wearin’ my ass out.


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“Wrinkled Kidney” Never Sounded So Good!

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Just a quick update for anyone who actually reads my blog and is curious. In Tuesday’s blog “When leaving on vacation feels like going to the hospital”, I mentioned that my son had a follow up with his pediatric urologist on Wednesday.

And, wait for it…

We got GOOD NEWS!!! Where as our previous pediatric urologist only ever gave us bad news using his bad beside manner, the current pediatric urologist has only ever given us good news! He said my son’s left ureter seems to be working properly. His left kidney has shrunk from 3.8 to 2.5. I don’t know what unit of measure that is or how they can think that is reliable from an ultrasound, but I DON’T CARE! Good news is good news.

They said his kidney showed “wrinkling”. Think deflated balloon. Which is good, because that means it is no longer dialated (experiencing pressure stretching it out), which could do permanent damage. My son’s left kidney has been dialated since it was created, and he is 16 months old now. That is a long, scarey time. This is the news we have been waiting for since he was in utero! And now he can quit taking preventative antibiotics! Which he has been on most of his 16 months on this planet.

Next up is another ultrasound in 6 months. So happy! Ya!

We totally should have hugged the doctor. Heck, I should have kissed him. I did throw up my hands and yell “ya”.

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Time Machine

Do you ever wish you had a Time Machine to skip over a hard day? I sure do.

I could put on Facebook when my son is going into the hospital to have surgery (which seems like a form of medieval torture) to get sympathy and support. But I do not, for two reasons:

1. I don’t want thieves to go “Oh, she is at the hospital with her kid, let’s break into her house.” That would add insult to injury.

2. I may want to get a job someday, and I don’t want potential employers to know that my kid has racked up over $100,000 in medical bills this year, and counting.

I must be the wussiest parent ever. All the other parents in the pediatric pre-op waiting room seemed calm and composed. I was a freakin’ mess. I was freaking out for two main reasons:

1. I am afraid when I hold him before surgery it will be the last time I ever hold him. Surgery always has risks.

2. I feel like this will never end. I feel like my son will be 18 years old and we will still be going to the urologist every month for his dilated kidney. I would LOVE for the doctor to fix it and then we only have to have a test like once a year to make sure it stays on track.

* I secretly believe my son’s urologist is writing some groundbreaking article he will publish in a medical journal about my son’s unique complications and the doctor will make a ton of money off of it.

As my son screamed in the backseat, my overwhelming thought on the hour drive to the hospital for my son’s latest surgery was: I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be an adult. I don’t want to be a parent. I can’t handle all this responsibility. Everyone has their limit of how much shit life can throw at them, and my son’s medical issues are bringing me very close to my limit.

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