You Turn Me Into

To my six grandchildren, [five of whom have either just turned one year old (today!) or are turning one year old next week] namely, Seth, Piper, Jude, Quinn, Eleanor & Eva,

You turn me into...

...an admirer of chubby little hands, fat little feet, softly screeching or babbling little voices

...a connoisseur of smiles - the so happy to see you ones, the quick on and quick off kind, the rather wobbly and showing through tears ones, the only on one corner of the mouth type, the showing off your cute two tiny and only teeth kind, the full-out almost breaking into giggles type that make it impossible for me not to reciprocate

...a worrier when you get sick or need a puffer (or even when you're gagging over the big-people chunks of food your mom so calmly and confidently offers you because she knows you're old enough to handle it)

...a reader of stories aloud, using many different voice levels and expressions

...a sweet-talker, especially when you need distraction from sadness or fright or anger or when you're determined to get into something you shouldn't

...a get your 58-yr-old bones down here on the carpet kind of grandma during play time or bottle time when I babysit you 

...a mooshy-hearted grandma at the snugglies you surprise me with

...a repeater of silly phrases and questions with obvious answers [did you wake up? let's look at this! where's the puppy? you'll be okay! I'm gonna get you! did you come to Grandma's house?]

...an unashamed braggart (I never knew there'd be so many ways to steer the conversation around to how we got triplet and twin grandchildren within eight days of each other!)

...a displayer of art on my fridge (such clever moms you all have, getting you to make an elephant-out-of-a-balloon card to delight me with or getting you to bop-paint pictures on papers that she slid into Ziploc bags and placed on your high chair trays and then sending the finished masterpieces to me in an envelope via snail mail) 

...a member of The Observer Team, along with your grandpa (how entertaining it is just to sit and watch you roll or crawl around on the floor, examining books and toys and exploring methods of play)

...an admirer of my own children and their spouses when I see how you are parented so well

...a Mennecostal hybrid when it comes to praise sessions upon reflection over the past year - how is it that you went from such tiny, fragile, and quite-ill-at-times preemies to robust, mobile, smart and becoming little people in a matter of twelve months? I say, "Only God!"

...an explainer regarding the dearth of grandchildren pics on my social media platforms. When I say that you are the cutest ever, most darling and delightful subjects in photos, I'm serious. But, for reasons such as, but not limited to, being on the same team as your mom and dad in desiring to keep you safe from online exploitation, I'm not posting pictures here as proof for my readers. They just have to believe me. 

Love,

Grandma

It Takes a City

L to R: Auntie Kerra with Quinn, Mama Joy with Jude, Grandma Danette with Piper  

Photo taken by Great-aunt Annette, during the triplets' first visit to Grandpa Martin's house. 

Stating the obvious here, I know, but it's been awhile since I posted. Much has happened between times. If I would've published a blog post every time one has percolated in my brain during the past months, my readers would have liters to consume and everyone would soon be well-caffeinated. 

But the percolation never advanced beyond steam and aroma to actual coffeemugfuls, and by now there's so much of the brew I could share that it seems overwhelming and I don't know where to begin. 

Why did I choose this metaphor when I'm not even a coffee-drinker? My husband would love if I'd goal toward becoming one, but my real intention is becoming a blogger who actually blogs. How could I fulfill my dream of blogging more regularly? Taking on the role of my own advisor, I tell myself to start somewhere and to start small. Perhaps I will simply begin with yesterday. 

Yesterday the morning service at our church, Oasis Mennonite, had a lot of features in it. There was the normal opening worship time of singing and then Sunday School. There was a receiving of a new member into our church family, and a special prayer time for our co-pastor and his wife as they take on the lead pastor role when our lead pastor and his family go to Thailand for a year. There were three reports given by men who have recently traveled overseas for a short term of service in war-torn Ukraine.

And there was a baby dedication. 

I've been to dedications before where several babies have been blessed in the same service, but I've never been at one in which the multiple babies belong to the same set of parents. Yesterday morning the three babies being dedicated were our triplet grandchildren, and I found it pretty moving. 

                                     📷~ The triplets' great-aunt Linda

For their time of blessing, the triplets were invited to come forward (with their parents and whomever else was needed.😊) Rolin carried Jude, Joy held Quinn, and Grandma Jewel had Piper as they walked up front to face the congregation. All three babies were awake and looking pleasant and/or inquisitive as their dad said a few words and while our church's two pastors and the triplets' grandpa Ken gave a prayer of blessing, each for a different one of the trio.

In his little speech, Rolin told the congregation that right around this time last year, he and Joy found out they were expecting triplets. His first emotion after hearing that they had "hit a triple" had been great excitement and then seconds later, he was hit with the enormity of the responsibility and work that three babies would entail. All of this had been rather overwhelming.

Rolin also reminded us that it had been only about a week later, then, that he and Joy broke the triplets news to the church family at Oasis's annual weekend campout. This incredible announcement had been met with much delight, of course, but people had also acknowledged that there would be challenges for Rolin's family in the months ahead, risks and concerns unique to the phenomenon of Having & Raising Multiples. 

Now, at the babies' dedication service, Rolin wished to express his and Joy's thanks to the people at Oasis for supporting them throughout the past year. The meals shared, the diapers and other gifts given, the time invested in helping to care for the triplets (especially those who did some night shifts during the first months the babies were home from the hospital) all meant so much. He said he now has this joke... "You know how they say it 'takes a village to raise a child?' Well, I'm discovering that it takes a city to raise triplets!"

                                   📷~ The triplets' great-aunt Linda

Sitting on a side bench in the church sanctuary during the dedication, I was the grandma looking after the triplets' big brother. And leaking my ermotions, like usual. My heart kept amen-ing as the men up front prayed for the babies, so overjoyed and full of gratitude was I (we all are!) for the way God has shown His goodness in the lives of these three already. 

I would've loved to also attend another baby dedication happening in another church on the same Sunday. Yesterday morning our twin granddaughters, Eleanor and Eva, were also blessed and prayed over in Meadville, Pennsylvania where Carlin and Kayleen's church family meets. 

I think it's pretty special that all five grandbabies were dedicated on the same day. I'm dedicated to perpetuating praise to our Loving Father who delights in orchestrating such things. 

And the One who raises up a city for parents of multiples when they need it. 

Carlin with Eleanor, and Kayleen with Eva

                                                        📷~ Annette Bechtel

Oxygen Between Her Toes

                                                                           📷- Kayleen Atkinson

Impressions during my first visits to The Twins at Home:

The care of preemie twins is complicated when they come home from the NICU with strings attached. 

In granddaughters Eleanor & Eva's case, the strings are the wires and tubing connecting them to supplemental oxygen tanks and monitors. When the twins were ready for discharge from the hospital, their lungs weren't quite strong enough yet to supply the full amount of oxygen needed to saturate their blood, so they came home "with oxygen". 

Hence there are "strings" running from sensors taped on one foot of each baby to their individual machines monitoring oxygen saturation and heart rate, and from the prongs in each girl's nose to the oxygen tanks nearby. The cords and tubing also drape over the sides of the girls' Moses baskets and coil at the foot of the change table set up in the living-room-turned-temporary-nursery. 

There's a whole collection of terms and expressions dedicated to the theme of coming home on oxygen: 

desat is a short form of the word "desaturation", which means a drop in the level of oxygen in the blood. The term desat also gets used in verb form at times, as in "She had a coughing spell a bit ago; that's why she's de-satting right now." On the other hand, highsat refers to maintaining an oxygen saturation level in the normal range of 95-100%. (I had to ask Carlins if highsat is a term that is used by medical staff or if they made it up, and I found out that the nurses used the term as if it was legit) The word highsat can be "verb-alized" too, as in "Look at Eleanor over here, high-satting during tummy time." 

Who's beeping? Since the girls each have their own monitor which sounds an alarm if either their oxygen level or their heart rate gets too low, the question "Who's beeping?" is asking which girl's alarm went off, and which girl's face should be checked for alertness and good pink color. 

dipping means basically the same idea as having a desat, making the monitor show numbers in the yellow range...if the numbers keep dipping even lower, the red zone will appear and the monitor's alarm will sound. 

She's not picking up There are a lot of false alarms - the machine will blank out sometimes because the sensor is weakening from much use, or one twin is kicking a lot, or the monitor just decides to manifest one of its quirks. 

unhook her During care time or bath time, when the baby needs a diaper swap-out for a blowout, or a full-outfit change, it may be necessary to remove the monitor cord from its connection to the sensor temporarily. This move is sure to summon the monitor's insistent beeping, so the Unplugger will likely become the Silencer of the machine, as well. 

weaning off oxygen refers to getting the baby used to breathing well without the aid of supplemental oxygen. This weaning is done gradually, starting with removing the nasal prongs so the baby doesn't have the oxygen supplement during her nap for an hour at a time. This can be done once or twice a day, with the monitor still keeping track of saturation level and heart rate. If the baby handles it well, the frequency and duration of the weaning may be increased over the next weeks or months.

without oxygen Out of context, this phrase could indicate something quite alarming, but it simply means not needing or providing supplemental oxygen. For now, the words are used in questions and wistful statements such as "Were the twins able to come home from the hospital without oxygen?" and "Think of how we'll be able to carry them around the house... give tub baths... take them on stroller rides... without oxygen!"

her oxygen is twisted The twins' oxygen tubing tends to twine around itself as the girls are picked up from their Moses baskets, taken over to the change table during care times, brought around to the couch for feeding times, and eventually swaddled back into their baskets. No wonder the babies need to be unhooked and their "strings" straightened out at times. 

oxygen between her toes The twins' oxygen tubing and monitor wires can also get hung up on things - when the person carrying a baby accidently steps on the tubing or the cord catches under the handle of a Moses basket or gets stuck between the couch cushions during bottle time. The wires have even been known to tangle around a twin's foot, prompting Kayleen to say, "She's got oxygen between her toes!"

I couldn't help comparing the two Eva's in my life. 

When I first saw little Eva getting oxygen through prongs in her nose and heard the hiss of the oxygen concentrator nearby, it brought back distinct memories of Mom-Eva's experience being "on oxygen". 

My ponderings went something like this: two Eva's...one young and one old (but too young to leave when she did)...both on oxygen...both quite helpless and depending on others for care...the one Eva receiving assistance in breathing while she's fading, her lungs riddled with cancer...the other Eva receiving supplemental oxygen while she's developing and growing, her lungs only getting stronger...two Eva's, both dear to my heart...

I kept wishing I could tell my mom about her namesake great-granddaughter (along with her twin sister). I think it would've been sweet to watch the three meet.

                                                📷- Kayleen Atkinson

It's fascinating to watch your own children parent their children. 

One nice thing about being the grandma of preemie twins is that you can go on upstairs to bed when you get tired in the evenings and leave the baby care to the parents on the main floor. They are the ones responsible for getting up every three to four hours to do the diaper changes and feedings and burpings for the babies. (If they'd have implored me to help do a stint during the night, though, I probably couldn't have said no...as long as I didn't have a cough or cold coming on, anyway.) 

It warmed my heart to observe my daughter and son-in-law taking their parental responsibilities seriously, to see them sacrifice their own comfort and sleep-rights for the sake of the girls' health and well-being, to hear their devotion in the way they crooned the words "You're okay" into a lilting lullaby over the babies, to watch their teamwork during bath times and dr. appointment times for the twins. 

I also enjoyed getting in on conversations with them that included topics such as teaching values to children at an early age, disciplining/discipling children, and how to raise a gifted family to be joyful and generous. I'm inspired by the wisdom and intention of these new parents. 

Some people are so thoughtful. 

When Carlin's little family came home from the hospital, there was food for them in the fridge and on the kitchen counter, placed there by caring friends. The groceries coincided with a list of four meal ideas which were printed out on paper and stuck to the fridge door. Other expressions of thoughtfulness showed up in a bouquet of peach carnations, a hand-written note of encouragement, and text messages letting Carlin & Kayleen know they haven't been forgotten, even though their social interactions have been (and will be for some time) greatly restricted. 

Church people and local friends can't come by in person because of there being vulnerable babies in the house, but they can get creative in their sharing, just the same. Which means that as a young mom you can respond promptly to Kayleen's request for a baby swing to borrow and just because you have stowed yours up in the attic only yesterday since your own baby has outgrown it doesn't mean you can't get Husband to go dig it out again for Carlins. And along with the swing, you can also send meatballs and potatoes, a lovely loaf of sourdough bread, and a chocolate bar, just because asking the Lord to sustain Carlin and Kayleen through this time doesn't mean you can't help out a bit with the sustenance...

I found out that a cuddle session with my twin granddaughters is a prime time for praise.

While snuggling the little Snuffalumps (my pet name for them when they're kind of snuffly from congestion due to prongs in their nose) I'd often gaze at their adorable little selves and marvel. I'd stroke their soft skin and cradle their head in my hand while watching them guzzle milk from their bottles, consider how their weight has gone from 2-something pounds to 8-something and 9 pounds in three months since their birth, and I couldn't help but be in awe of God's doings. 

I'm told my Grandpa Kauffman quoted words from Psalm 118 when my twin and I were born. "This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes," he declared. I'm pretty sure he was taking that verse out of context, but he thought it fit for us girls, exactly how I think it fits for our twin granddaughters. My other grandpa had a habit of praying a line that has stuck with me, too. After bringing a request before the Lord, Grandpa would give Him this promise: "and we will be careful to give You all the glory." I think that response is also fitting concerning our grandbabies.  

I've heard someone describe God's grace as our oxygen. If this is true, I believe that praise is a fitting response to breathing in His life-giving substance. "Let everything (everyone) that has breath praise the Lord," says the Psalmist. That includes me. I've seen the hand of God at work in the twins' lives, and I can only breathe out praise to Him as I inhale His grace. If you were to happen in on me these days, it should be no surprise to find me doing a praise dance. I've certainly been dancing in my heart, if not on my literal feet. You might say I've got oxygen between my toes, too.

Embracing the Heat

 

In January, Ken and I spent a week in Thailand. Since Ken is a board member for IGo, (Institute for Global Opportunities), we were invited to attend the IGo Board & Staff Retreat held "on-site" this year. (after two years of planning and cancellation) It was our privilege to attend the several-day meeting in a gorgeous setting: a resort called Horizon Village, located near Chiang Mai. 

Since it was our third visit to Thailand, we knew a little more what to expect this time upon our arrival. We welcomed the sight of the country's abundant foliage and brilliant flowers, heard the friendly sah-wah-dee greetings singsonged to friends and strangers alike, and savored the taste of fruit that seemed to have been picked from its natural habitat mere minutes before landing on the buffet line or our serving plates.

We also expected to encounter some heat - both in the outdoor temperature and in the spiciness of the food. The degree of warmth in the air was perfect. I could easily tolerate - yes, even revel in - the lovely sunny weather we experienced. The times that I stood out in direct sunshine at midday got a little sweatin' warm, I'll admit, but that situation was easily remedied by simply moving into the shade. 

The spicy heat of some Thai food dishes still took me by surprise, though. I found myself needing to implement something my son had taught me long ago - a practice he had learned from an uncle who grew up in El Salvador. The correct way to enjoy spicy foods, my son told me, is to embrace the heat in the moment of encounter. My understanding of the term "embrace the heat" is that one should not resist or merely tolerate the level of zing, but actually allow the heat to accentuate the flavors of the food and heighten the meal experience as a whole. 

Since our trip, I've been thinking some more about the phrase "embrace the heat", and wondering if it can apply to one's circumstances in life, as well. If "heat" describes the hard experiences I face, the difficult and painful things that happen to me, is there a way that my life can be enriched by embracing those times? 

This seems counterintuitive to me. I know that it's possible for me to look back after coming through a season of heat, (although maybe I'm still panting at the mouth and wiping watery eyes and sweating brow) and see that the experience has brought about some good, but how can I embrace it (get close enough to the pain to take it in) while still in the midst of the trial? Is it even possible for someone like me, who comes with a propensity for wanting out of unpleasant things as soon as I detect them? 

After arriving at the resort in Thailand, for instance, how was I supposed to graciously accept the annoyances of jet lag, let alone embrace them? And how could I have enriched my restless hours on a very unyielding mattress by getting up close and cozy with anxiety (that sinister grey beast invading the room upon my reading a 3:00am phone message that one of our preemie twin granddaughters was very sick with a lung infection)? I can only tell you that it does not come naturally for me to embrace the heat when I encounter it on my plate. 

And I certainly was not thinking enrichment or heightening of experience when I got sick on the first leg of our journey home from Thailand. The fatigue and "kinda weird" feeling I noticed coming over me while we waited in line at the Chiang Mai airport culminated in definite illness on the 6-hour flight to Seoul, South Korea. 

Sitting on the plane several hours into the flight, I woke up from the sleep of exhaustion feeling extremely weak and fainty. The lightheadedness (I don't know why it's called that, when really, it is dark and heavy) kept pulling me down and back into oblivion and releasing me out again to consciousness and then - - horrors of helplessness, I saw actual barf dribbled down the front of my dress! Immediately I knew the stuff was mine, and that it had gotten there without my conscious knowledge or permission. Sometimes life's circumstances are just plain nasty and in that moment, I had not the frame of mind and body to call any such thing enriching or flavorful. 

In the minutes that followed, a kind stewardess brought me some wet wipes, my stomach settled down enough that I could start to get more sleep, and my fainty feeling subsided considerably. A few hours later, I was able to walk off the plane unaided, which surely was answer to a prayer that I really hadn't had much umph to put into words. 

It was several days later until I felt completely well from my bout of food poisoning or whatever it was. At around the same time, our tiny granddaughter's situation with her infected lungs began to improve considerably, bringing great relief to all of us. Exactly how the episodes of "heat" enriched our Thailand trip was hard to say in the moments they were happening, and I'm not sure I know even now. 

Maybe they were meant to highlight the blessings of community. The interest and concern of our IGo Board and Staff friends for our preemie grandchildren meant so much to us as we shared updates/prayer requests with them. And finding out that others in our group were smitten with the same sudden illness on their way home evoked my sympathy for them and somehow made my recovering a little more bearable. 

Maybe the times of heat made the cooler, more ordinary and comfortable times more noticeable and appreciated. Perhaps embracing the total experience, a blending of the great and the not so great, is what allows me to look back on the trip and say what a rich gift it was. 

I agree with Sarah Breathnach, who says in her "Simple Abundance" book, "Usually we don't know why something has occurred and we won't until there's enough distance to take a backward glance...blessing whatever vexes us is the spiritual surrender that can change even troublesome situations for the better...writing it down (acknowledging our blessings) focuses our attention on the abundance already within our grasp and makes it real."

Embracing the heat in my life - instead of bracing against it - means I don't try to convince myself things are not hot when they are. It means I acknowledge that sometimes circumstances do pack some heat and I would benefit from paying attention to the blend of flavors and how this hard thing can heighten the taste of the life experiences that it graces.

I feel like I speak of this glibly, though, when I look around and see the fiery seasons others are encountering currently. One friend nurses her husband while slowly losing him to Lewy Body dementia, another is undergoing chemo treatments for cancer, still others suffer conditions of body and mind that are debilitating and chronic. Someone else is grieving choices made by a daughter who recently left her spouse. A month ago, my own sister-in-law lost her husband to sudden death from a heart attack, following his dealing with a malignant brain tumor. I can almost see these friends' plates sizzling, and I wonder if they feel like someone who has unsuspectingly bitten into a pepper hot enough to make them altogether lose their appetite for the rest of the meal.

Maybe that's how Paul felt, too, when he prayed three times for his thorny difficulty (whatever it was) to be removed. When it wasn't, it seems like he accepted (embraced?) the infirmity and received the grace of Jesus, realizing that glory could come from the blending of his own weakness and the strength of Christ. 

I like the way the Amplified Bible expands the story: "But He said to me, 'My grace (My favor and loving-kindness and mercy) is enough for you [sufficient against any danger and enables you to bear the trouble manfully]; for My strength and power are made perfect (fulfilled and completed) and show themselves most effective in [your] weakness.' Therefore I will all the more gladly glory in my weaknesses and infirmities, that the strength and power of Christ (the Messiah) may rest (yes, may pitch a tent over and dwell) upon me!" 2 Corinthians 12:9

Jesus is our greatest example to follow in embracing the heat. On the cross, He acknowledged excruciation in body, soul, and spirit. Under the weight of our sin, He endured the cross, treated its shame as nothing, and accepted death because of the joy that was in the life beyond it. No one can understand us as intimately as this God who became one of us so that we may become one of His. What better Companion is there for us in embracing all of life? 

The words from a song* resonate with me as they depict us on a journey, like the unsuspecting disciples with Jesus on the road to Emmaus, walking "doubtful and dreading, blinded by sadness" and experiencing "slowness of heart". The song goes on to remind us that "yet Christ walks with us, ever awaiting our invitation: Stay, do not part."

In the heat, I want to embrace Him. 

* "Day of Arising", by Susan Palo Cherwien

A sampling of the fresh and flavorful fruit of Thailand. 

Hibiscus showing off its brilliance in January.

This friendly vendor makes the best smoothies in the market, so we were told, 

and so we now believe after tasting them for ourselves.

Gorgeous views at Horizon Village, where the IGo Board and Staff Retreat was held.

IGo Board members and their spouses, L to R: Merle & Edith Burkholder, 

Dayton & Judy Skrivseth, Val & Barb Yoder, Carl & Grace Heatwole, 

Lowell & Judy Miller, Dave & Ellie Yoder, Justin & Laura Zimmerman, 

Ryan & Amy Huber, Ken & Danette Martin, Josh Wagler (missing: Hannah) 

[📷- Clinton Weaver]

Women's share-and-get-acquainted time during one of the sessions.

A shopping trip included browsing several fabric stores in Chiang Mai.

Sometimes the best discussions happened on the back of the songtow.

We enjoyed informal times of visiting with IGo staff members, 

such as the evening spent in Tim & Linda Stoltzfus's home.

I'm so grateful to God that Ken & I were able to go on the Thailand trip together. 

I certainly had times of doubt beforehand that everything would work out, 

especially with the early arrivals of the preemie grandbabies, 

but the timing ended up being very workable. Thank you, Jesus!

Our very sick granddaughter Eva, as she was when we were over in Thailand.

Eva, as she is now. (Isn't Jesus amazing?)

Eva's twin Eleanor, showing how she can manage breathing 

completely on her own - at least for a little while. 

Both girls are making great strides in their progress 

toward the goal of going home from the hospital. 

Hopefully in the next week or two, they'll be released. 

The twins side by side for the first time since their birth two months prior. 

I wonder what they thought of this special treat. 

And while we're talking babies, here's a most precious lapful of them. 

The triplets [L to R: Jude, Piper, Quinn] are growing chubby 

and are delighting us with their responsiveness. 

No chuckles or coos that I've heard yet, but certainly winning smiles!

[📷- Joy Martin]

Update on the GrandDarlin's

The triplets (Jude, Piper, & Quinn) are getting close to four weeks old, and are getting more adorable by the day. So says their smitten grandma! 

All three have been gaining weight nicely during their time in the NICU at the local hospital. At three weeks old, Jude was a little over 5 lbs. and Piper & Quinn each weighed around 6 lbs. 

It's not their weight or how long they've already been in the NICU that determines the length of hospital stay for the babies, though. The goal to reach before they can come home is managing full oral feeds every 3 hours over a period of 48 consecutive hours. Drinking a bottle or nursing takes a lot of strength and perseverance when you're a preemie. It's so easy to peter out early or to even sleep through feeding time. 

Piper was the first one to meet the requirements, and she was discharged from the hospital to come home on Wednesday of this past week. Yay! Quinn will probably be the next one home; he can manage at least 24 hours of great feeding schedule. And Jude will no doubt be close on Quinn's heels, as he follows the example of his brother and sister.

Big Brother Seth was very happy to welcome his baby sister home. Piper is the one he'd chosen to help out with the most, even before the triplets were born. But he did say that when he gets tired of taking care of her, Mommy & Daddy will take over for him. (Rolin says Seth probably figures it's wise not to overcommit...)

I got to hold Piper (our first granddaughter!) for the first time this week. I went to Rolin & Joy's place to be with Seth while Joy took Piper to the hospital for a weight check, and while Joy made last-minute preparations to leave, I snuggled the wee one in her cozy pink sleeper. It was an absolute delight!

Eva

Eleanor

The twins (Eleanor & Eva) are 2.5 weeks old, and they are the tiniest-but-sweetest humans I have ever seen. They are living in their NICU rooms next door to each other in a Pittsburgh hospital, where they will be for quite some time yet, given their early start in life outside the womb. Both girls have been gaining weight, and are climbing toward 3 lbs. This is good progress considering they had even dipped a bit below their birth weights of 2 lbs. 4 oz and 2 lbs. 13 oz. 

Eleanor, the donor twin (in the Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome scenario) and the smallest at birth, had been progressing very well, with fewer challenges than Eva, the recipient twin. Until a few days ago, when breathing became harder for her than it had been. Testing revealed that a valve in Eleanor's heart has not closed as it should since birth, causing less blood to pass through her lungs than necessary for receiving sufficient oxygen. 

It is not uncommon for this to happen in preemies, but it is something that the doctors are working on to resolve. Hopefully the treatment of giving Eleanor Tylenol will help to constrict the valve, and further measures will not be needed. (Please, Jesus!)

Eva has had some good days this week, after a pretty rough time with respiratory challenges. When she started having trouble breathing, she was put on an oscillator, a type of ventilator which gave little bursts of air to assist her breathing. Then she developed pneumothorax (I think I'm spelling that right), which basically means that air pockets formed around her lungs. 

Eventually, Eva needed two chest tubes tubes inserted - one on each side of her chest - to help remove the air and allow her lungs to heal. Then she had further difficulty when she got an infection in her lungs. With so many tubes and wires connected to her, bacteria had prime opportunity to enter her body and grow. After being on antibiotics for several days, Eva's condition improved greatly. (Thank you, Jesus!)

Finally on Tuesday of this past week Eva was stable enough that Carlin and Kayleen were allowed to hold her for the first time. What a huge gift! In the last few days, Carlins have been able to snuggle both girls for long periods of time. This time of bonding and nurturing is so needful and precious. It warms my heart to hear of it.

We eagerly anticipate and gladly receive every bit of news regarding the twins and triplets. Our feelings tend to rise and fall, depending on the contents of the updates; many are the prayers that have ascended on behalf of our beloved little people and their parents. I suspect this kind of prayer life will be ongoing for us grandparents.

We're excited to go visit the triplets and hold them after all three are home. And now that we're back from our Thailand trip, we're planning another trip to Pittsburgh soon. I can hardly wait to see the twins and touch them again! How soon do you think NICU rules allow for grandparents actually holding their granddarlin's? 

I dream of times I can spend with my grandies in the future, and I think about what all I might be privileged to teach them. Right now, though, I feel like they are the ones teaching me. About love and about prayer. What a privileged student I am!

 

My Weekend Wand (and other stories)

Wedding Day has come and gone, and what a lovely event it is to think back on and praise God for! Someone asked me to post lots of pictures of Kayleen & Carlin’s big day, and I do plan to fulfill that request in a future post, when I have lots of pictures to choose from. It’s a rather unique situation to be both a photographer (albeit, an amateur one) and the mother of the bride (an amateur one too, I guess) at a wedding, in the sense of resulting pictures when the day is over. I did have my camera available at the reception, but I think I took only one picture with it. I saw many beautiful opportunities for photographic shots that day. I can only hope the designated photographer captured them – and a wondrous lot besides.

What I do have to share before the photos, though, are some little stories including impressions and experiences from the days surrounding wedding time:

My Weekend Wand

When my twin sister Annette, along with her husband Nolan and their oldest daughter/my oldest niece Nolita made their plans to attend the wedding, they decided to come a few days early and stay a bit later so they’d be available to help us with preparations and the aftermath. That’s just the kind of people they are.

They stayed right at our house. Those who might question why we’d host guests over the time a daughter is getting married likely don’t realize the scope of ambition and intuition that came with this particular guest package.

They’d ask what they could do to help, and I say, “Wipe down the kitchen counters and clean the backsplash” or “Fry up this hamburger for sloppy joes at the Set Up Day lunch” or “Make a pan of Mississippi Mud dessert”. It seemed only a short time later, I’d turn around and there was the food sitting on the shining counter.

Honestly, it was like I was Fairy Princess or something, waving my wand and saying “Do this, and that and this” to my subjects. Magically, the work got done, and in short order.

From scooping ice cream into 250 individual clear plastic containers for the dessert buffet at the wedding, to patiently ironing yards of table cloth and stringing yards of lights at Set Up, to ordering in pizza for the Tribe of Dan members who gathered at our house after the wedding, to using their rented car for hauling home pans and roasters of leftover chicken and rice from the wedding, to smoothing out and boxing 250 handmade cloth napkins that had been washed and dried after the wedding, the Nolan crew was simply (or maybe I should say complexly) amazing.

And let me say that the preparation and clean-up magic of the weekend had little to do with my wand or the waving thereof and much to do with my subjects!

A Wedding Nightmare

I have my niece Holly to blame for the wedding disaster dream. When she came to our house one evening to help Kayleen the week of the wedding, Holly asked me how preparations were coming along, and if I’d had any wedding nightmares yet. I answered that I thought I was keeping apace quite well in the wedding prep schedule, and that no, I hadn’t had any scary dreams.

Well, of course I had a troubling dream that very night. In it, Kayleen and I were travelling somewhere and our vehicle needed gas. For some reason when I filled up, I had to put the gas in a jerry can. And I had to fill said can inside the car. There was some thick mayonnaise-y stuff coating the opening of the jerry can, so it was quite tricky to get this gas poured into the container.

Kayleen had her wedding dress in the car, draped over the seat and under no protective covering and wouldn’t you know, I spilled some of this gunky, gassy mess onto her dress. She and I were just devastated! Until I discovered that the dress was actually my own wedding dress from 31 years ago. Then both of us were like, no big deal. And I woke up, relieved to discover that none of the disaster was reality.

In Sunday School at church the day after the wedding, the lesson text was the story of Jacob at Bethel. Naturally the topic of dreams came up in the discussion and our teacher asked us if our dreams today have significance. When I mentioned probably not nightmares before a wedding, the teacher wanted to know more details.

After briefly describing my dream about spilling the gas, the teacher asked if my dream was stress-fueled. Stress-fueled. Annette was sitting beside me in class and we both recognized the unintended pun about the same time. It was fun to share a giggle with her, and then with the teacher and the rest of the class as they caught on.

An Unwanted Crop

If you’d have asked me before the wedding how I’m coping with the stress of preparations, I would’ve told you that I think I’m doing fine, over all. Kayleen was exceptionally well-organized in her planning, and I tried to be at least decent in mine. I was able to sleep most hours that I was in bed at night, I didn’t come down with a sore throat or even the sniffles, and I felt like I was able to handle any frustrations that came up by talking them out with Ken, thereby releasing them from intense and undue focus on my part. (Tears were also a coping tool in this process.)

BUT. Somewhere down deep, in the dark and damp, the stress spores were gathering and budding and strategizing about how and when to bloom. Apparently, the Monday after the wedding was the target date.

That morning I woke up with my upper lip mushroomed out in cold sores. There were several spots that kind of blended into one whopper sore heading toward my left nostril and I had a couple on my lower lip, too. All told, there were SEVEN cold sores. That’s a lot of stress, if you ask me. And a lot of soreness, not to mention nastiness in the looks department.

Cold sores are strange creatures. I have, according to info I read on some medical websites, a dormant cold sore virus living permanently in my body. I am not alone in this. About 80% of the people in North America have it, too, and if you are one of those people, you have my empathy.

Normally, my immune system is able to keep the virus in dormant mode, but a trigger such as stress can allow the virus to multiply rapidly, spread down my nerve cells and pop out onto my lips.

I used to get cold sores way more often than I have in the last ten years or so. Hence, this latest crop was rather a surprise. I really dislike cold sores, every stage included, from the tingling onset when I’m scared it’s a sign of terrible things to come but still hoping like crazy that it will pass without developing into anything major, to the ugly, painful, oozy period where it hurts to eat or talk or sometimes just be, to the ugly, brown crusted-over patches of lip skin phase in which uninhibited youngsters will ask me the question that everyone else I meet is probably dying to ask: “What’s wrong with your mouth?”

As par for the cold sores course, my lips are healing nicely since the 7-10 days after breakout are up. Hallelujah! I can still tell where the sores were, but the scabless spots are pink now instead of crusty brown.

This post-wedding batch of cold sores has had a way of humbling me, of reminding me to be realistic about my inability to handle stress loads well on my own and about my need for graciously accepting the help of others.

It has also helped me to be grateful. I don’t know how many times I have thanked God that I didn’t get these cold sores two days before the wedding instead of two days after!

That Puzzling Pair

As twins, we don’t try to trick people into thinking that I’m Annette or that she’s Danette, but it happens sometimes. Because we have tended to look less like each other rather than more similar over the years, it can be surprising – and amusing – when it does happen.

At the wedding reception, Annette and Nolan served apple cider to the guests. This involved standing at the punch table and keeping the drink dispensers filled so that the guests could help themselves to cider any time they wanted. The cider jugs were kept in a fridge in the kitchen off the reception hall.

One time when Annette went to the kitchen to get some fresh jugs, one of the cooks who knows me quite well saw her and exclaimed, “Danette!” and proceeded part way into a scolding of the bride’s mother for being in the kitchen during the wedding. Annette hastily informed her that she’s not Danette, and about the same time my friend remembered that I have a twin sister.

Both ladies had fun relating their version of the story to me later at different times, and I got to laugh twice at the mix-up.

On Sunday after the wedding, we hosted some of Kayleen’s relatives and some of Carlin’s relatives in our home for lunch and the afternoon. The meal was served buffet-style in the kitchen on the main level of our house, and guests took their plates of food to tables and chairs (or just chairs) to eat in a room either upstairs or downstairs because we couldn’t accommodate the whole crowd solely in our dining room.

Annette and I were upstairs and down throughout the day enough that we managed to confuse my nephew, going by what he said to his family after they left our place later on that afternoon. His mom, Ken’s sister Colleen, sent me a message with the humorous account of her children chattering about their day. My niece said that it suddenly dawned on her that Danette’s twin was there when she kept seeing a person who looked so much like Danette but she was wearing a covering (instead of a veiling like I do). Then the light went on for my nephew and he exclaimed, “Ohhh, her twin was there! I just thought Danette was everywhere!”

Photo Cred: Nolita Bechtel

This Post’s Quote:

My dad preached the message at Kayleen & Carlin’s wedding. In his opening comments, he told the audience that the couple always hopes their wedding day turns out perfectly; that everything goes off without a hitch. Then he paused, realizing he had unintentionally used a pun, and continued with, “I mean, they do want to get hitched!”

This Post’s Childhood Memory:

I remember my mom telling us children some fascinating details of her birth story, such as her being another “blue baby” (after the two siblings before her had both died from the same condition), the doctor writing out her death certificate before he wrote her birth certificate, and the tiny pink spot on her forehead growing larger and spreading over her entire body, bringing promise of life and health.

I don’t remember hearing this particular part of the story, though, as told by my aunt Nita recently: “The doctor wanted to buy Eva. He said, ‘My wife and I can’t have children, but you (Mom’s parents) can still have some more children. I’ll give you $10,000 and a brand-new car if you will let me have Eva.’ We always told her she was worth more than the rest of us!”