Reflections on my Father’s Death, One Year Ago Today

Posted in About Me, More Theresa's Thoughts, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

The silly picture he texted us all while he was in Maui, a couple of days before he died.

One year ago today, I was having a stressful Thursday and decided in the middle of third period that I was going to take the following day off—for sanity. I remember thinking, I just need a day to rest or else I might get sick. So I made some last-minute substitute plans for the next day, requested a substitute teacher through the school website, and headed home right after 6th period. I had no idea that my father had died in the midst of my preparation.

I went home to a lonely house. Owen was away at school taking a media course. Kanan had left to be with his dad for a few days. And so I lied down on the couch and held my 6-month pregnant belly and fell asleep. I slept hard. So hard in fact that I missed the calls from Linda. I missed the calls from my sister. I missed the calls from my mom. I missed the calls from Owen. I awoke at 6:30 only to realize I needed to race off to my bible study which met at 7. So I quickly grabbed my phone and my bible, slipped on my shoes and started to head out of my house. I looked down at my phone to see if I had missed any calls and saw the number down below. I missed 12 calls. I saw Owen was the last call I missed so I called him first. He answered upset and stressed—why hadn’t I been answering my phone because he had tried to call 6 times to tell me to call my family? Why were my sister and mother and everyone calling him? He was in class and needed to focus and everyone was blowing his phone up and no one was leaving messages.

“Call your family, Theresa!”

I hung up and scrolled through my missed calls. My mother was next. I called her. At this point I was in my car and hadn’t yet started the engine. She answered crying. I can’t recall exactly what she said because her words and tone sent me into a cyclone of fear and confusion. I can piece fragments of her words.

“Oh no Theresa…..its terrible its terrible… I can’t tell you…I can’t tell you…. You are pregnant…I can’t tell you.” And then she let out deep sobs, so deep, so primal, I knew someone I loved was badly injured or dead.

“Mommy please tell me….just tell me!” I cried. But she hung up.

I scrolled back through my missed calls and stopped short when I noticed that the first missed call came from my dad’s phone. My father who was currently on a beautiful vacation in Maui with my stepmother, Linda. My parents, who would never call me while on vacation. I pressed the number and held my breath.

Linda answered in a calm, slow small voice: “Hi, Treese.”

I immediately burst out, “I know something terrible has happened so just get out with it.”

Her words were slow…contemplated…quiet. Again only fragments. I remember “snorkeling…. he said help….I tried Theresa…. He’s gone…I’m so sorry.”

“My dad is dead?” I asked, as if that idea had not been something I had considered up until this moment.

“Yes, Theresa, he’s gone.”

I immediately screamed out long, dragged out “No’s.” I dropped the phone on my lap and just cried and cried, heaped over in the driver’s seat like a sack of flour, feeling like I was crumbling into little pieces of dust. I can’t imagine what Linda was doing or thinking on the other line as she heard my cries. And to think she had to make that phone call to my sister and brother, to my aunts and uncles, to my grandmother; each time having to sit there in her own despair and have to listen to ours as well. I don’t know how she did it.

I don’t remember the rest of the conversation. At some point I must have ended it. I remember calling my sister and immediately headed over to her house. We were going through a tough time in our own relationship at this time in our lives and yet, how silly and meaningless it all seemed now. I went over without a thought. All of that was gone. I needed to be with my sister right now, the only family closest to me while Owen was at school. On my way to my sister’s house I called him. He didn’t answer. So I texted him: my dad is dead.

That night and the following day are a blur. I’m so glad I already had a substitute planned. I don’t know how I would have even been able to plan a sub-plan during that time. The following night, Linda flew back. My brother and his wife and son as well as my sister and her kids, Owen and I, and our Aunts sat in Linda’s house, waiting for her to come home. She insisted on driving herself home from the airport. When she arrived, we all just held each other and cried and cried. We all spent the night. The entire weekend, we all crammed together in my father’s house with Linda and just mourned together.

Monday was a holiday, so I assumed by Tuesday, I would be able to go back to work. I remember thinking it would be the best way to heal. I was wrong. By the end of first period I was in tears and wondering what I was thinking coming to work. I was so relieved when the Vice Principal walked confidently and yet delicately into my room and asked me why I was even here.

“I thought I could do it, Juan. But your right, I don’t think I can.”

“Go home, Theresa. We will take care of a substitute. Take the week off. I needed two weeks off when this happened to me.”

I packed up and headed home.

It took a couple of weeks before we could hold a funeral for my father. His body was stuck in the coroner’s office in Maui and then had to be shipped to Minnesota or something for another test before it could return here. I didn’t realize how much work and time went into autopsies. But during that time, I made a video and a scrapbook for my father, as well as wrote a memoir of him called “His Hands.” Pain has always been a creative catalyst for me. And creating, whether it be through my writing, painting, or other media has been the only way I can sort through reality and to deal. It purges me, heals me. So by the time the day of his funeral arrived, I was doing better than my sister and brother. Still, we all do things differently. I had planned to show the video and read to the funeral guests the memoir and so I felt I needed to be strong. If I broke down and cried, I don’t think I would have stopped. And they deserved to see the video. They deserved to hear the story. They came here to celebrate his life and to mourn his death.

It was an open casket up until the funeral itself. I stood there in that room, setting up the video equipment with my father’s lifeless body laying in the casket behind me, yet I refused to look. That man was a shell. I didn’t want to remember his shell. I wanted to remember my father. Still, the image I caught in my peripheral vision of his soft, fuzzy brown hair, dusted with gray still resonates with me. Looking back, I regret the decision. It sounded right at the time. But somehow, I think now it would have been good to hold his hand one last time. To kiss his cheek one last time. I don’t remember the last time I had actually seen him before he left to Maui. Owen and I had taken him out to lunch one afternoon a few weeks before. And I had stopped by quickly to pick up some tools and I remember his pleased smile when he greeted me, his warm sweater-covered-arms around my shoulders. His large hand patting my belly. But I don’t remember which one happened in which order. And given that was still a couple of weeks before he passed away, I didn’t get to say good-bye. The last words I had with him were through a text. He was in Maui and texted me a silly picture of him by a stream pretending to be falling, the one posted into this blog.

I texted him back: Looks like you are having a great time!

He replied: Its kind of hard not to.

And that was it. I didn’t reply back. Oh how I wish I had replied back. Said something like—Daddy, you have been everything and more that I could ask in a father. You are a great man and I am so honored to be your daughter. I will love you forever.

And so I guess that is why I am writing this. I’m still trying to let him know, through my blogs and my life, through my prayers to God, how much I love and miss him. But my Aunt Julie made a good point on Facebook today, she said these profound words and they moved me greatly: “The other great joy in your passing, like with Dad, there was, for the most part, no words unspoken. We knew you LOVED us and you knew we LOVED you. What greater joy is there than that. ”

Still, that doesn’t mean we don’t mourn. More so for ourselves than anything. We are incomplete without him here. Linda still mourns, probably more so than anyone else, and rightfully so. He was her soul mate. She is alone now with out him. She lives with my grandma now, my dad’s mother. And they have a great system set up. They are good for each other and I’m so glad my grandmother is there with her. She sits in his chair. She rubs her feet together the same way he does. And I see him in her. A topic came up the other night in our family after we watched the movie Courageous together. What is it like to continue living without your love there? Is it like living with an amputation? She said no. For her, she feels abandoned, she said. What do you say to that? No hug, no pat on the shoulder, no meaningless “keep your chin up” comment could remedy that. All I could say was, “I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing that with me.” Even then….stupid. It was a stupid thing to say. I don’t know what the right thing would be. Probably nothing. Probably just a hug and a good cry.

My brother,sister, and I have all had our own trials this year as we’ve mourned. And yet despite the trials, we have persevered. My brother has a new job and a growing second career in music. He has started to go to church again. The first time since he was a child. My sister has moved out of her boyfriend’s house and exploring a new independent life and a newfound relationship with Jesus as well. God uses all things for good.

I myself have had Jameson. Owen and I decided his middle name would be Jeffrey, after my father. He is a beautiful, happy baby with an easy-going disposition, just like my father. He bears his name well. I wish my father could have met him. And now we are pregnant again. Amazing how much my father is missing. But then again and I can’t help but be reminded that no matter how many awesome life events he is missing, he is having a way better time with the Lord. We have joys, yes, but in a broken, fallen world, waiting to be restored by the creator when Christ returns. My father on the other hand, is with Him. He is with the Great I AM. No child, no wife, no father, no friend can ever be as awesome and fulfilling as that. And I also take great comfort in knowing that this life, with all its joys and pain, is but one grain of sand in an eternity of beaches we will spend together one day with the Lord. My children, by the grace of God, will meet their grandfather one day.

My Aunt Julie said another profound statement in that Facebook post today regarding this very thing. She posted, “The only happiness that we were all able to gleen from your passing is that by your own admission and through your upbringing you were a believer in Christ and with that singular and sole choice by you, we know that you have everlasting life in Our Lord Jesus. The greatest gift you gave to yourself you also gave to us who believe too. We are so grateful that we will see you again. Our sorrow would be a 1000 times greater if you had chosen a different path.”

So true. So true.

But until that time when we see him again, I will keep his memory alive through these blogs, through his photo illustrations, through the stories of his life we share as a family. My children will meet him already knowing him. I promise you that.

25May2011

My Last Day Pregnant

Posted in About Me, Pregnancy Update, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

41 weeks pregnant--my last belly pic

I am 41 weeks pregnant and not only have not started labor, but my appointment today showed no signs of my body responding to the cramps I’ve had all week. I am still high and closed tight. But emotionally and physically, I feel done. Not that it matters what I want anyway. I would probably wait another week if my doctor said it would be safe, but given I have had a prior c-section, she does not want to go past 41 weeks as it poses an increased risk for rupture. I’m already nervous enough about the risks of stillbirth and uterine rupture and add on top of that my knowledge of what happened with Kanan which lead to a c-section the first time, I really don’t have much hope that my body will do what it needs to do anyway. I gave it to God. I’ve prayed and prayed that my baby would be born naturally and timely, that my body would respond well. None of that has happened. I also prayed that God’s will be done. That if it would be dangerous to do so, that he would lead us to a c-section. Apparently, God is okay with a c-section. Perhaps I would rupture. Perhaps the baby would get sick from swallowing meconium or God, forbid he would be stillborn. Either way, we are here at this point. And so, we are doing it. Tomorrow morning at 8:30 I will be on the operating table.

We went in today for my checkup. As I wrote above, there were no signs of progress. The baby was doing fine though—heart rate in the 130’s. My weight gain for the week stood at barely a pound, which puts me at a grand total of 32 pounds of weight gain. We then headed to the hospital for my directions for tomorrow and my pre-op blood work. I am to stop eating tonight at 10 and stop drinking liquids at midnight. I am to arrive at the hospital tomorrow morning at 6:30 where they will prepare me by giving me an IV to hydrate me, and give me my spinal block, etc. At 8:30 AM we start the operation. Owen can be in the operating room with me so we can hear Jameson’s first cries together. Then Jameson and I can be reunited in my recovery room after he is cleaned up and I am sown up and feeling okay. Owen plans to pick up Kanan from school around 11 to bring him back to the hospital and see his little brother. I cannot wait to see Kanan’s sweet little face and see his reaction. He is so excited about having a brother. I don’t think he realizes what he is getting into or even that he may even feel some jealousy tomorrow, but I am excited nonetheless. I cannot wait for our family picture in the recovery room together as a family: Owen, me, Kanan, and our little Jameson.

I’m pretty disappointed in my body, but am super excited about seeing Jameson tomorrow. I was taking a shower today and started to cry such happy tears realizing that after tomorrow, my life will again change forever. I have felt this way only four other times in my life. I felt this same way the days before Kanan was born, the day I recommitted my life to God, the day I married my husband, the day my father died, and now this moment. These are the moments that mark the milestones of life. These are the moments that make me feel alive—just raw emotion and the moment when I say, “so this is what this feels like.”

I prayed again in the shower. Prayed that God would remain with me in this next fork of my life. That he would give me his patience, wisdom, peace, and love to be able to be the best working mom and wife that I can be. I need him. I don’t know how I will do it without him. I prayed for my husband and for Kanan. That they would be guided by the Lord as well. That they would be patient with me and my emotions as I go through this transition. That they would feel loved.

So here we are….It is 5 pm. I plan to vacuum and dust to get rid of the cat dander in my house for baby. Then I head off to visit my grandma and eat dinner with her as we read chapter 3 of the book of John. And then I return home to eat my final snack before bed, relax with my husband, and try to get some sleep. Tonight will be hard without water. I get so thirsty at night. I imagine my thoughts will keep me up as well. Last night I was up at 1230, then again around 3, and then again around 5—all three times, my mind so full of thoughts; my body so sore. But, that will just further help prepare me. I imagine tomorrow night I will be up around those three times as well, nursing Jameson. 🙂

18May2011

40-Week Update

Posted in About Me, Pregnancy Update, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

Kanan (dressed in Iron Man costume) watches his 40-week mama capture her big belly shot in the bathroom.

Today has been a slightly disheartening, but somewhat hopeful day. I woke up feeling a wee-bit crampy, but otherwise normal. My friend Claire and I met up around 10 to walk around the mall given the icky weather and hope that the walk would stimulate some labor in either one of us. Well, big success for Claire! We had to leave around noon because it looked like she had started! They started getting stronger and stronger and she became even too uncomfortable to drive, so I took us home. Very exciting! I have yet to hear back from her to find out her progress, but hopefully she is having that baby soon. In the meantime, spending time with her may have rubbed off on me. Since leaving her, I have been much crampier. As a matter of fact, the majority of the afternoon and evening I have been getting waves of cramps about every 20 minutes! Still, when I went in for my check up today, I found that my cervix is still high and closed tight. The doctor scheduled me for another appointment for next week—week 41. If I am still high and closed tight, we will probably have a c-section on Thursday the 26th. Moving on past 41 weeks in a subsequent pregnancy after a c-section can increase risk of rupture. While Owen and I would rather have a VBAC and are praying that we are successful, the risk of stillbirth and uterine rupture by going past 41 weeks with no signs of labor just doesn’t sound worth it. Especially since my last labor didn’t progress past 1 cm despite it being 24 hours post membrane rupture and laboring all night long.So that is where we stand. I’m hoping my crampiness today is a sign that a C-section next Thursday will not be necessary. Prayers would be appreciated.

So I guess that means this baby will be here within a week! In the meantime, Jameson’s heart rate today was 145—very good. I lost 2 lbs since last week, praise God! That 7 lb weight gain in one week was just crazy! So overall that means I have gained 31 lbs over the course of this pregnancy and that is much better than my first pregnancy of like 45-50 lbs ( I honestly don’t know as I stopped weighing myself at 45 lbs which was a week before I gave birth and I know that last week I puffed up A LOT with water retention).

11May2011

Waiting for this baby while eating carne asada and gaining weight!

Posted in About Me, Pregnancy Update by Theresa

I’m 39 weeks preggers.
I’m still high and tight. The doctor can’t even sweep my membranes to help me along.
I gained 7 ridiculous pounds in just one week–although I did eat a huge plate of carne asada for lunch which has been sitting in my gut all day, but even if I ate like 3 lbs worth of food, that would still mean I gained 4 lbs which is what I should gain in a whole month! So, I’m obviously sitting around way too much while on leave. I’m going walking tomorrow and then again on Friday with a couple of girlfriends including one who is due next Tuesday.
I feel so huge, it is becoming increasingly difficult just to flip over in the middle of the night from one side to the next. Bending down to pick something off of the floor actually takes a strategic plan and still never completes without a gurgle from my squished stomach or a grunt from my smashed lungs.
Just getting out to my car and into the driver’s seat is getting me all huffed and puffed.
On the bright side, people are really nice to me! But, meh, it’s just not worth the wait….

Oh I want this baby out now!!! Please Jameson, come out now, please, please, please! If you came out on Monday, we would have had three beautiful months together before I would have to return to work. The longer you wait, the less we have together. Please baby boy, come out!

28Apr2011

37 Weeks!

Posted in About Me, Pregnancy Update, Random, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

Well, I’m officially “full term” and I definitely feel like it! I have to make 5-point-turns just to get out of bed, I’m up every hour either flipping over because my hip hurts, hands are numb, can’t breathe, have to use the restroom again, or am dying of thirst. I’m hitting my belly everywhere I go. I make a moaning sound when I have to get up. By the end of the day, if I’ve been sitting too much that day or standing too much, I’m aching. I have some nights where it feels like my body is so tired, it is actually paralyzed! I have to consciously tell my body, “pick up leg and move forward,” “bend down,” “sit up,” etc. Its hilarious. But it is my first week at home on my maternity leave. Given I caught a stomach bug of some sort, I Monday and Tuesday just really tired and wanting to nap a lot. Then I spent Tuesday night vomiting, and Wednesday all day, sleeping and trying to endure the remaining nausea. Oh and not eating because my stomach hurt too bad. But today is good. I have some heartburn I’m relieving with Apple Cider vinegar, I’ve finally finished writing all of my thank you notes for my baby shower, I’ve eaten, I’ve juiced, I’ve read, I’ve blogged, and now I’m heading off to get some errands done before heading off to fellowship group. Woot-woot! Finally! One productive day!

As for baby–he survived the 24-hour stomach virus and two days of fatigue prior to. Yesterday, he had a heart rate of 144. He was quite active Monday and Tuesday, doing some sort of aerobic activity in there that was quite extensive as he truly flipped from one side of my belly to the other. My sister witnessed this event from across her living room. Yes, it was a show! And boy did it hurt Mama!

As for me, I have gained a whopping 1 pound since last month, but baby is growing still so the doctor is not worried. That puts me at a total of 26 pounds I have gained thus far, which is far better than where I was at this point with Kanan. If I remember correctly, I couldn’t see my clavicle bones at this point and I had already almost fainted like three times (most likely from the body weight on my arteries or something…haha!).

It is Owen’s 31st birthday today, but he is unfortunately spending it all day at school working on final projects and exams. I won’t see him until tonight. But I have a gift bag for him and a card waiting for him. We did celebrate his birthday with friends last Saturday because I knew today would be difficult. And Kanan and I made him a cake on Monday night so we were able to do something small together then too. Yes, in our house, birthdays last a week, not a day. 🙂 So Jameson, if that doesn’t make you want to come out, I don’t know what will! Come on out buddy! You’ll have week-long birthdays every year for the rest of your life!

Oh yes, and the picture of my belly above I took yesterday when I was still suffering from the stomach virus. So excuse my face. Try to just focus on the lower half of the picture. Haha!

6Apr2011

Dear Daddy,

Posted in About Me, More Theresa's Thoughts by Theresa

Dear Daddy,

It has been almost two months since you have been gone. And the reality that you are actually gone is becoming more and more clear to me. And as that realization becomes clearer, I find myself crying more often. I am sobbing even now as I write this letter to you, squinting at the vision of my computer screen, blurred with tears.

It is so hard to explain—to explain the grieving process. But I know you know how it goes. I watched you handle yourself so well when Grandpa passed away when I was 19 years old. But two months after Grandpa died, I also found you in your bedroom completely collapsed on your bed, holding your father’s portrait in your hands. I’ll never forget that day. It was the first time I ever saw you cry. You became human to me that afternoon. And seeing you with those new eyes made me love you all the more.

Now here I am in your place. I handled myself well when you died. I cried, sure, but I stayed focused. I made your video montage, the scrapbook, and wrote that eulogy for you. I read my piece at the funeral, set up the video projector, and talked with all the friends and family who came to grieve with us. I cried less on the day of your funeral than any of the days prior. I wondered if people would judge me based on that. I put you in a box that day, emotionally. And I let the need to be focused—the need to meet people’s needs push away the raw pain so many others allowed themselves to feel that day.

Then it was back to work. Back to being a wife. Back to being a mom. Back to being pregnant. The times I allowed myself time to think about you and miss you and grieve for you were in between those moments of duty—driving in my car. Driving from where I had to play Theresa the teacher to the next place, where I would play Theresa the wife and mother. I had very little down time. And it is the down time, where we can feel safe enough to just mourn. To just feel and to think and to miss you.

But also…..there are the reminders that you are gone that I didn’t get as much over the last two months as someone like Linda. Linda spent every day with you. She slept with you, lived with you, went to work with you. Your absence is clear to her every minute of the day.

I saw you like once or twice a month. I talked with you two or three times a month on the phone. We texted each other once or twice a week. We emailed each other once a week or so as well. So even though I know you are gone, it is not until those times of contact go unfilled that the actual feeling of your absence becomes clear. Well it has been two months Daddy. I should have seen you at least twice now. I should have talked with you about four times and we should have texted each other and emailed each other at least eight times by now. I am feeling your absence Daddy. And I am missing you terribly.

I will no longer get funny texts from you with pictures of you and Linda on your adventures. I will no longer get your emails with attached art you created for me to enjoy or political emails or inappropriate jokes. I will no longer feel your warm hugs when I come to your house or hear your deep voice on the phone.

I am so sad that you are gone Daddy. Jameson will be here in 6 weeks and I am so sad that I will not see you in the hospital room. I am so sad that Jameson will not meet the greatest man in my life next to my husband.

Daddy—you were only 57 years old. But the autopsy came today and they said you accidentally drowned. I don’t understand why you had to die so young and so unexpectedly. I trust God in His ways, but it doesn’t mean I understand Him all the time.

There are moments when I forget. Someone will walk by and they look like you and I’ll take a double take until I catch myself and remember, it can’t be you. I’ll call Linda to ask her something and she won’t be home and that darn answering machine comes on and I hear your baritone voice and for a moment, its like you are really there, its like I’m talking to you—and then I remember. I’ll be going through my voicemail, erasing the old ones, and then I get to the last one you left me—a week before you left on vacation to Maui. And again—here you are talking to me in the same tone you always have. My heart stops for a moment….And then I remember. And its at these moments daddy, these moments when I remember, when I realize, when I know…..and each time, you die all over again. And with that, a little piece of the illusion that you are still here dies too.

I do not know when the last fragment of this illusion will die. I do not know how long it takes before your voice message is taken off your answering machine. Before your clothes are sold or given away or Linda puts away that jar of peanuts that still sits beside your recliner in the living room. Before I stop taking double takes at your look alikes in the county. I do not know when I will stop looking at your page on Facebook or perhaps when it gets erased. Or when your voice mail to me accidentally gets erased or disappears when I sell my phone or change my phone number. I do not know when Jameson will point at a picture of you and say, “who is that?” And I will have to tell him stories and show him more pictures and try so hard to get him to truly know and appreciate you the way his cousins or brother do. And he probably won’t because that is how it goes when you never meet the person and I will have to deal with the hurt and the frustration that he doesn’t know. That he doesn’t appreciate the most compassionate man I ever had in my life. The man who was the heart of our family and who is now gone and with that absence has left a massive hole, a massive void in our lives. A void my Jameson won’t even realize exists because he will never know what it was like when it wasn’t there.

Your son, Anthony made a post yesterday morning on your page on Facebook. It said something like “I wish. I wish. I wish I had one more wish.” Me too Daddy. Had I known I would never see you again, I would have called you more. I would have visited you more. I wouldn’t have allowed the business of life give me permission to say “tomorrow.” I would have gone out to happy hour with you that day you left your last message on my voicemail. I would have called you when you were on vacation in Maui and apologized for bothering you but would have told you something, everything, anything. Anything but “I would have.”

Thank you Daddy for pulling me out of my downward spiral after high school. Thank you daddy for giving me a home and paying for my school at Palomar. Thank you for being there for me through all my successes and failures. For loving me through moments of integrity and purity and yet also my selfishness and pride. Thank you for always opening up your home to my sister, brother, and I when we needed help. For always hoping and expecting the best for us even when we didn’t have that same belief. Thank you for being so loving and accepting of my husband Owen. Thank you for making him so quickly a part of the family and being joyful with us through our adventures of marriage and our pregnancy.

There is more to come from me Daddy. I’m not done writing letters to you. I pray I never will be done.

I love you. I miss you. I do not know if you are able to hear me right now or read this letter. I do not know how Heaven works. But I cling to God’s promise that He has made a house for you. And that you are there with Him. And that I will see you again.

Your daughter,

Theresa

31Mar2011

33 Week checkup

Posted in About Me, Pregnancy Update, Random, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

Just had my 33 week checkup yesterday (or 34 weeks if we prefer UCSD’s assessment) and things are looking great!

Firstly, I passed my glucose tolerance test! Boy was that whole process a pain. First, I went in for the standard one-hour test. Now when I did this test with Kanan, my doctor told me i didn’t have to fast, so I made my appointment for after work. Well, I had carrots for lunch without knowing that those are one of the highest vegetables on the glycemic index. So I didn’t pass it and therefore had to take the 3-hour test which includes fasting (I’ll go into the details soon). I did not want to make the same mistake again, so this time I took the test in the morning after I didn’t eat breakfast just to make sure. Well, the lab lost my blood. Yes,you don’t have to reread that last line, they LOST MY BLOOD. Now this wouldn’t be such a terrible thing except for that the test is not fun. You have to drink this 10 oz bottle of disgusting sweet syrup version of tang and then sit there for an hour feeling terrible before they take your blood. So needless to say, when they lost my blood and I learned I would have to do it again, I was not happy. But I did it. And again, I didn’t eat breakfast. But I did enjoy a cup of half-caf coffee with powdered creamer and no sugar. Not a good choice. I didn’t pass. Agh! I looked up coffee on the internet and its connection with glucose levels. Guess what, it raises insulin levels. So there you go. I messed up. Again. So off to the three-hour test I went. This one is much worse. You have to fast for 12 hours. So I didn’t eat anything from 8pm to 830 am when I went in to the lab. They stuck my arm immediately to get my “fasting glucose levels.” Then I had to drink the nasty drink. After one hour of sitting there, (actually standing for a while because no one in the waiting room offered the pregnant woman his or her seat, so I finally had to just clear one of the magazine tables and sat my rump there until one became available) they stuck my arm again for more blood to test. Then after one more hour, stuck my arm again. And then finally, one hour later, they stuck my arm for the last time. During this time, I felt sick. I had a difficult time concentrating so I couldn’t grade essays as I had attempted but instead could only maintain enough intelligence to mentally process the pictures in a February issue of People Magazine. I also felt this weird tingly sensation up and down my arms. But, on the positive note, I did use the negative experience to treat myself to an In-and-out cheeseburger and a vanilla shake on my way home. Felt much better after that!And the best news is, I passed. Yay!! I am thoroughly enjoying my cravings for baked goods like toast, creme of wheat cereal, cake, and cookies and did not want to swap that for chicken in the morning. 🙂

Condition of baby: heart rate in the 130’s still which is normal and good. His head is down–also good. He is moving all day long now as opposed to just the evenings. He gets an occasional bout of hiccups from time to time. He loves my belly being touched by dad or brother. And he gets extra active after Mom eats sweets. 🙂 He still likes to hang out on my right side, so my belly looks lopsided most of the time. And he doesn’t like it when I cough (leftover effect of the three-week bout of laryngitis I just got over)! He jumps sometimes when I do. It’s cute.

Condition of Mom:

On the downside—-I am starting to get uncomfortable pretty much all the time, but especially in the evenings. It seems that I’m having a harder and harder time feeling like I can breathe, the bigger this baby gets. So I sit in one position until it’s too uncomfortable and my breathing gets shallow. Then I move into another position. And the process continues. At night, I wake up constantly from being uncomfortable or needing to go to the bathroom. So now the fatigue is starting to come back during the day. I’ll definitely be ready for middle-of-the-night feedings though! Also–baby is putting weight on my bladder. So guess what happens when I cough? You got it. Even if I just went to the bathroom! Somehow there’s still just enough! Not enough to embarrass myself, but I know it happened and I don’t like it! So–I guess its time I start doing kegals. Boo! I always forget. And finally, my hips can sometimes really ache. I mean ache so bad that at night I have a hard time even walking–especially if I was on my feet a lot that day. I think I’m officially ready to just roll myself around my classroom on my desk chair instead of walking. Haha!

On the bright side–I’ve gained only 25 pounds so far, which is much, much better than where I was at with Kanan. At the rate I am going, I should gain 33 pounds by the time Jameson comes, which fits right in the 25-35 pound healthy zone for pregnant women. Yay!! Secondly, my skin looks fabulous. After Kanan was born, I have struggled with more acne. I was always blessed in this area, so constantly having 5-6 pimples on my face everyday drives me nuts! Well, now my skin is better than ever. Not one pimple! I love it! I can go makeup free and feel beautiful! And, my chapped-lips continue to stay gone. Oh, and this is strange, but I’ve noticed my hair on my legs is not growing as fast. I used to have to shave my legs everyday and now I can go like 3 days between shaves. And the hair that is there is super fine. What’s up with that? I mean I’m not complaining. Less work in the shower is definitely appreciated. It is just strange. Especially since the hair on my head is growing faster and none of the hair that is there falls out anymore, so its growing super thick. The same goes for my nails. They are stronger, with whiter tips, and long. Again, no complaints, just….strange.

Condition of Dad: He is working super hard in school, on his business, and building his business’s website. He is also still working in ministry–mentoring the youth of our church, working on his first sermon for the college group at our church on Luke 20, maintaining his studies in the internship program at our church, and attending a parenting class with me on Friday nights. He also of course balances this with his wonderful role as a husband and step-father to Kanan. He and Kanan are growing so close in their relationship–it is beautiful to watch. He of course is super excited about Jameson’s arrival–he’s cleaned out the garage and brought all of the baby stuff up to our apartment. And he is totally nesting! He completely reorganized the house during his spring break, bought curtains, hung them up, and rearranged furniture!

13Mar2011

Sick with the Cold-Virus from the Antechamber.

Posted in About Me, The Hemsath Life by Theresa

: The genesis of my cold

Well, its official. I am sick. I’m on day 4. I tried to prevent it with vitamin D and prayer. I even thought I had avoided it. I had always thought that incubation period before coming in contact with a virus and the time your symptoms appear were like 2-3 days. Well, I suppose that may be correct if you can actually nail down the day of the virus’s invasion into your system. Take my husband and son for example. When Owen got sick, he was very good about covering his mouth when he coughed, not kissing me on the lips, etc. So the worst of his cold came and went and I didn’t catch it. But Kanan caught it (probably during their tickling fight they had on the couch when Owen was still sick) and then I may not have actually caught it from him until two or three days after he caught it because it took that long before he coughed in my face while sleeping in my bed. (that’s what I get for letting the little guy crawl in at 5 am with his blankey, his bunny, his monkey, and his doggy.)

So my chart tracks the genesis. I blame it all on my cousin Dalton. Thanks coz! 😉

So why am I writing this blog about a cold? Because this is no ordinary cold. This cold is a malicious little virus that likes to fester in your respiratory system, affecting every aspect of it. It likes to linger. And it likes to torture!

First–you start off with a terrible sore throat. Your throat feels likes its been burned with fire and cut with razors. Swallowing, speaking, just existing….is pure pain. Then the cough on day three comes and the fatigue and the head ache. Every time you cough, your throat flashes out a solar flare of fire and the pressure in your head erupts so high you feel like your head will explode. Then the chest pressure on day 4. You feel like someone is standing on your chest. You resort to shallow breathing just to minimize the pain—so then you feel dizzy and weak from the lack of oxygen in your system. The trip to the store to get another bottle of Tylenol or Robotussin puts you so out of breath, you collapse on the couch on your return. Next—the voice box. This virus takes sandpaper and shreds it up to pulp and then soaks his claws in slime and rubs it all over the remains of your voice box afterward. So the sound that comes from your throat when you speak on day 5 is this croaking, phlegmy sputter. That is what I can expect tomorrow. I’m on day 4 right now. But from all the other people who had it before me, this was their pattern. Unless I take the path Kanan took. Now–the virus didn’t attack Kanan on day 5 the same way. No with Kanan, he filled his sinuses up with so much phlegm and snot, the pressure left no other option but for it to find relief through erupting out of his tear ducts. I had to wipe away yellow mucus from the kid’s eyes like every 10 minutes over the course of 24 hours. I thought it was pink eye, but they never glued shut. And pink eye is severely contagious. I didn’t catch it. So, my diagnosis is–pressure from sinuses. Other slight variations include–pneumonia, as in the case of my Grandma who caught it. And hallucinations, as in the case of Dalton, my cousin who is the earliest host of this virus that I can track down. Oh, which one should I choose?!!

So here I am on my couch—too weak to talk, to walk, to do anything other than write to you all and tell you to stay away from me. Stay far away. I’m doing my best to do my part too. I watched my church service on-line. And I’m cuddling with my blankets. My husband is racing off to church right now to cover our home fellowship table that we totally forgot to attend at the first service because my cold distracted us from everything. I didn’t even know it was day lights savings day until I hopped on-line to read a little Japan news before catching the service, only to find the service was already 30 minutes deep at 9:30.

I had so many plans this weekend. Plans to organize Kanan’s room with all the baby stuff we pulled from the garage. Plans to clean. Plans to grocery shop. If I don’t get it done today than it will be chaos next week trying to balance work and wifing, parenting, and cleaning and a cold. Oh yes, and planning out last-minute details to Kanan’s birthday party next weekend. So I have today left of this waste of a weekend. I don’t pick up Kanan until 4 today. So have some time to try to muster up the strength to get off this couch and at least fold a load of laundry that has been sitting on my bed the last week. A week? Yes…because I went from nursing my son, to a day of work and then nursing my own cold after long days at work that even included a back to school night. I have had no time. As for Owen, he has been amazing. While that laundry does need to be folded—it is the least I can do. He has cleaned out the garage, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned and organized the living room, cleared out space in Kanan’s room for the baby stuff, designed a video-reel for an actor friend of ours, written a paper, and studied for mid-terms. All the while, while still coughing up the last remains of this virus that debilitated him 10 days ago. Yes, he still has lingering remains. I’m telling you, it is the cold-virus from the Antechamber of you-know-where.