Happy Two Year Anniversary!

We hit the 2 year anniversary of my car accident!  And we celebrated . . . which we totally should because we made it to this side of something hard.  And celebrating helps us remember we can do it again when the next "something hard" comes along. 

We headed to a family favorite - Window on the Wasatch for dinner.  Never heard of it?  That's because it's the hospital cafeteria.

I am so incredibly grateful for my car accident.  I have learned so much in the last two years about myself, about my Heavenly Father, about my marriage, my family, strength, hope, service and accepting service, compassion and patience.

I would never trade any of it, not for a second.  I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father that knows our needs and answers our prayers.  I'm grateful for the personal growth that always come with "hard."  



And Drew was thankful that he picked bubble gum flavor and no one really wanted a taste of his ice-cream. 

Coming to a Close

Physical Therapy is coming to a close . . . I hope.  I gave it a one month try a little while ago, but was back before I knew it. 

Drew and I have spent countless hours at Physical Therapy.  I know the aides intimately and they know me and all my kids very well.  Jordan even happens to also teach gymnastics to both the girls and has practically become family.

I started with a walker, graduated to crutches and eventually walked.  I started with my mom, in sweats, hopefully showered most of the time and sometimes crying.  I started with 12-15 hours per week, slight movements and lots of stretching. 

I hurt still and I'll do my routine stretches for the rest of my life. 

But even 3 months ago I was positive I would never roll over in bed again without pain, I was sure it would take me a few minutes to get my body standing upright in the morning for the rest of my life, and there was no doubt that the pain in my leg was just permanent . . . but I've improved, I'm doing better and that just proves that if I keep working, it will just keep getting better. 

It's been long, I've been committed and I am grateful to be well. 

Just Pull it All Together

My friend, Barb, told me that she always says to herself . . . "If I could just pull it all together tomorrow  . . . "  And the the problem is - just what is "it" exactly?

I think she described me (and probably motherhood for the most part) perfectly.  I keep thinking those exact thoughts, but I hadn't gotten to the part where I didn't even realize that I didn't even know what "it" was. 

I'm doing well physically now, I'm progressing and I'm getting around, but I'm just trying to put the pieces of our life together.  I feel like every time I turn around there's a small crisis on our hands . . . my return piles from my summer clothes shopping binge that I just did't have the energy for, insurance and medical bills, school reports, new bank fees on every account since I'm still receiving paper statements, a mess in every square inch of our house, my computer is still in my kitchen on a card table . . .

Oh and everyone needs to eat every single day . . . really?!  3+ times even . . . which means we have to have food in the house so someone has to grocery shop . . .

Okay, so none of them are a crisis, but it just feels like everything is a bit of a mess and if I could just "pull it all together" . . .

The truth is I'll never pull it all together . . . ever.

And maybe there's a few more things I can let go of.  Like this summer I stopped rolling our underwear into pairs.  I just divide his and hers and jam them in their appropriate drawers.  Awesome, right?

But we just keep moving, we keep evaluating and I guess make sure the "it" that I'm pulling all together is my family.

Restored

There were 2 major losses in my accident . . .

1.  My red Costco Coat.  I mentioned it several times on this blog so you should get that it was important.  I spent a whopping $30 on it, but it's really a great winter jacket.  I could go into the particulars of what makes it great (and trust me I did with the friend I met at Costco that I convinced to buy one) but it's lost was morned.  

Look at all the documented love in just the short time that I had it.

(The scooter club picture is in my black one . . . but I usually wore my red one).

I opened my eyes in my car for a brief second as they started to cut up the arm of my coat to put an IV in . . . I remember thinking that I was sure they could have found another way.  But they did it that way and it was gone.   

Lisa texted me that our coats (she loves them too) were back at Costco and they had red again.  I was there the next day and am again a proud owner.  In my excitement, I literally convinced a women I met there and then my friend I ran into, to buy one. 

2.  My iPod.  Ansen remembered getting it out of the car and putting it in my purse.  I remember seeing my purse at the hospital and then not again for 2+ months.  My iPod was MIA.  The kids and I have dearly missed our play list for the car and hunted high and low.  I had given up . . . it was gone.

Ansen bent over to plug something in, the sun hit it just right and he found it under our dresser. 

A miracle.  What a miracle!

Recognizing Joy

The first time I drove after my accident was pretty exciting.  And the first time I drove with all my kids, windows down, music on and everyone belting out our favorite song it was thrilling.  I realized how much I missed that and how much it was joy to me.

My moment of joy. 

Ansen went of town the next week and I remembered the week before when I felt joy.  I actually forced everyone into the car to go to the post office . . . just so I could feel that moment of joy again. 

It was much better compared to the other feelings I was feeling at home with everyone - alone and still recovering (which actually doesn't even matter, because believe me those "other feelings" came plenty of times pre-accident). 

I realized that sometimes we only get moments of joy. 
It's important to recognize those moments, take mental note of what creates joy for you personally and when necessary, force joy to happen.

We finally got a new car a while back.  A big car.  A car that is ladder proof (we hope). 

And we've added to the singing now.  Everyone does the Wii Just Dance moves -which only adds to me joy. 

Ambulance . . .

We had a ward party a couple of weeks ago and since it was one of those crazy Saturdays I wasn't sure if we'd make it . . . soccer games, quilt class, baptism, work BBQ, wedding reception . . . and there was 2 more, but I can't remember now - I just remember we had 9 things lined up with a lot of driving in between. 

 Anyway, we made it and good thing we did since there was a fire truck and an ambulance there to climb around and explore.

And what kid doesn't love that . . . 

Seeing the inside of the ambulance made me realize that I never opened my eyes once in the 30 second trip to the hospital I took - it felt like that anyway since I was in and out.  When they shut the doors and we started the drive I was dreading the LONG, bumpy ride to the hospital . . .

I remember they cut my clothes off (who wouldn't notice that).  I remember the EMTs complaining about it being so stinking hot in there and why was it so hot? . . . I didn't notice the temperature . . . And I remember asking if there were kids in the car with me and when they said no, wondering where on the earth they could be then.

And the next thing I knew I was in the ER and 10+ people poking me and moving me and they were telling me my Dad was in the waiting room  . . .

My memory of the ambulance could definitely have been worse. 

Look at those little, white, winter legs . . .

Benchmark

There's a fine, fine, FINE line between progression and over doing it in the recovery process.  The zoo was a big, BIG day 3 weeks ago and then round 2 was just a big day - improvement. 

Granted . . . 

 we did go out to dinner after zoo:round 2 because I didn't have it in me to cook

and I did fall asleep in the car on the way home

and Ansen did leave me sleeping in the garage for 2 hours  - out cold
and I did barely walk for the next 2 days.

 But I actually did two big days in a row since I babysat my niece, Halle, the day before and then decided to still face the zoo:round 2 and teacher appreciation door decorating.   

Zoo:Round 1 - Spring Break

Zoo:Round 2 - Kindergarten Fieldtrip

Here's the Siamese crocodile that has the same birthday as Olivia.  We came two years ago right after it was born and Liv is always thrilled to see her birthday friend. 

These 3 went to 2 years of preschool together and then lucked out and got in the same kindergarten class.

We rode the train for the first time.  My kids didn't know it existed until this day.  Well maybe they new it existed by this point, but had no idea you could just pay and go on it. 

Hey if we're happy just lookin' at hot, stinky animals, why introduce more when unnecessary?

No Cavities

Such a relief. 

I was absolutely sure that after 4 months of good, but not I'm-your-Mom-and-I-care-more-about-your-teeth -than-anyone-else-ever-could-good brushing there was a good chance there would be cavities. 

And I was even more sure that after 7 or 8 weeks of only once daily brushing I was going to have cavities. 

I'm so glad to be past the days of swallowing toothpaste spit. 

Ansen would bring me my toothbrush and a glass of water every night.  I would brush my teeth, then take a drink, swish and spit it back into the glass.  I didn't have the heart to ask him for one more drink of water to finish the rinse after he'd changed my clothes, adjusted my socks, got all my pillows ready, taken care of my contacts, moved my legs on and off the bed, etc. just for the luxury of rinsing one more time.  I would just swallow the rest of the toothpaste spit silently and gratefully and look forward to the day when I could get to the sink. 

One of the first things on my agenda after I could drive and semi get around was the dentist (I may be a bit OCD on this thing) and I am proud to report that it's a miracle . . .

NO CAVITIES for all!

The Help

The help has been awesome around here . . .

A stupid, little blog post does NO justice to the help we've received and the gratitude that I don't even know how to begin to express, to all those around us that have helped us (and sincerely offered to help us).

Lisa comes on Tuesday nights and does any and everything around the house . . . decorations, Christmas, changes sheets, folds towels, organizes my storage room, changes Drew's clothes in and out, etc.  And let's not forget pedicures with pure honesty of how gross my feet were looking. 

I honestly keep a list as I think about it and she works until it's done.

Kendall and Halle were here 2 separate times for 15 days.  They were here the first week home from the hospital and I don't think I could have had a more sensitive caretaker for the worst week of it all.  She managed all 4 kids, the house, homework, and me and I had absolutely no idea what was going on outside my bedroom door.  She's rethinking the spacing she wants for her kids . . . sorry :)  All I can say, is that they usually only come one at a time.

(it's not the best picture . . . but I love the "action" picture with everyone doing a job)

And Halle . . .

Halle pitched in too.  She kept my walker and wheel chair used (she loved holding onto them) and kept Drew and the girls entertained.  Drew had a love/hate relationship with her most of the time.  LOVED her to death, but HATED if she touched anything of his.

This is one night they both got to stay up late goofing around.  Kendall and I thought they were being cute together so they worked us for an extra hour - at least.

Drew kept patting his knees at Halle like she was a dog and she loved it.

Yup, couldn't have done it without her either (and those legs).

My mom & dad have been a rock stars!  My mom has been the face of the help, but my dad has been helping almost as much.  My mom was here all the rest of the time that everyone else was gone.  Early mornings, late nights, sleep overs (when Ansen was out of town), and all day long with stinky, tired Drew.  She's still coming, Drew is definitely better and we're having some fun together now.

Seriously, the best mom ever! 

My on call Doctor (even though the only picture I have is of him is on Christmas morning with his baby and her baby) was pretty great too.  He showed up in time to get me through my narcotics withdrawal and was the best Doctor I had to return phone calls, texts and send extra detailed e-mails regarding whatever current condition I was dealing with.  I never doubted it, but I think we'll quite like having a Dr. in the family.

Ansen's mom came for 8 days in January.  She played with the kids and gave them a change up in the routine they all probably really, really needed.  She took care of us and kept us moving along.  She got to be here for the magical day that I got to start putting weight on my leg!  Family really is the best!  Thanks Carol!

Most of my cousins all stopped by at one time or another, babysat me, and cleaned my house.  Even Becca (3 days home from her mission), Lyndsay and Rachel (who were both here on vacation) spent hours cleaning my house (and I even let them take a picture).  While Lyndsey and Rachel cleaned, Becca (with a smile) let me take her into each room and tell her where to put every little thing that was out of place . . . heaven.

I missed pictures with a lot of my family, but they were all so great.  A big, BIG bonus of my accident was getting time (the time we always promise to make) with each of my family that came and called.  It reminded me how grateful I am for those friendships.

And lastly, I would have taken a million (literally this time) pictures if I had tried to document the ways that our friends, extended family and ward family served us (the meals, the treats, the notes, the diet cokes, the cards, the phone calls, the packages, etc.).  We never opened the door during the WHOLE month of December when something hadn't been left on our porch.  The meals, calls, e-mails, notes continue to come . . . and I could never arrticulate how grateful we are. 

It's official . . . I'm walking!

It's been a long time coming, but I'm finally walking! Officially it was a couple of weeks ago, so I'm actually still quite ahead of the predicted recovery schedule.  They said it would be 16 weeks, I said it would be 8 and we landed in the in the middle (maybe a little more towards the professional's side).

I'm at 15 1/2 weeks post accident and things are moving along quickly now.  Dinners have stopped coming (seriously an amazing ward, an amazing family and amazing friends), I started to drive the occasional carpool (that I don't have to get out of the car for), I can pick up Drew and walk sometimes (he missed that bad), stairs are getting more comfortable, I'm showering, getting dressed AND doing my hair (most days),  I went to church last Sunday for the first time, and I can do some light work around of the house. 

The bones are healed and the biggest hold back now is just how entirely exhausted and worn out I get.  I have no muscles . . . like none . . . you can't imagine it until you've experienced it.  I have some noticeable lost of brain function and I'm hoping it's just from being so tired I can't put thoughts together . . . until it's time for bed and then I can't turn my brain off . . . agh!  My mom still comes most days, but somedays she doesn't come at all! 

Progress is progress and all this feels huge!

Surreal

You know those moments when you think that you would give anything to not have the constant worry and work of taking care of your children? Just a little break would be nice. Of course you love them, honestly, more than anything in this world, but it's hard. 

I've had my "moment" and I'm over it (for now) - big time.

A week and a half ago I got my kids ready for school (by myself) for the first time since my accident.  It was such a surreal feeling to realize that for the first time in months I was getting my own children ready and out the door.  My own little children that I did everything for up until that day. 

Last Saturday I washed Olivia's hair and realized it had been almost 12 weeks since I last washed her hair or helped Drew take a bath.  This week I did the entire bedtime routine and put my own children to bed by myself 3 different nights.

I've been able to be left alone with them for weeks now, but it only included me sitting while they maintained life around me. Addison played mom for any real needs and Ansen or my Mom came soon so it was always temporary.   Little by little I've been able to do more and more.

I miss being Mom.

 I miss doing baths, I miss driving in the car singing with the kids, I miss working in the school classrooms so that I can see my girls during the day being their little selves at school, I miss Costco in the morings with just my Drew, I miss driving school carpool for all the energetic neighborhood kids, I miss brushing little teeth, I miss lunch dates with the girls, and I even miss making dinner.

Learning: Count 203 & 204

I always wonder if the little things actually mean anything in the mist of a tragic or hard situation, but now I know they absolutely do. 

You can't see it, but I get really emotional and teary eyed when I think or talk about even just the cards people sent me in the mail.

Also, apparently I am the last to figure it out . . . pretty much everyone uses disposable "dishes" when they bring meals in.  Good to know, because it was so much easier to only have to return a few dishes here and there.

I wish they would remember

I figure that Addison is probably my only child that will have real memories of the accident and life after the accident. Olivia might have some vague memories and I'm pretty sure Drew will have none. I'm partly glad they'll never remember. But I (a lot) wish they would remember.

I wish they would remember the struggle so they'll know and they'll remember the blessings from our Heavenly Father.

I wish they would remember so they'll know how much their Dad loves their Mom.

I wish they would remember so they can see how important family is and how much they rescued us.

I wish they would remember the the meals that come every night and the people that have generously served us in every possible way.

6 weeks!

So it's already been 6 weeks ago yesterday that I got in my accident.  It's kind of gone by fast like in that it feels like just 3 minutes . . . under water. 

That's a smile in this picture.  I remember thinking I was smiling big . . . we needed some good, happy pictures from the hospital, right? 

I actually don't think I look that bad, since everything broken was inside and there was nothing they could do for it on the outside.  Plus another miracle in it's own, is the only outside mark was where the glass sprayed all over my hand.

Really some parts feel fast and some parts feel so unbearably long!  The day before Christmas Eve I finally sat myself up in bed for the first time!  It was text worthy and as soon as I struggled and got myself upright, I texted Ansen a happy dance text and got a non-happy dance "good job" back.  Trust me, it deserved more.

(That's my bright pink blanket some friends brought me . . . the best thing in the whole hospital room . . . and all the flowers.  I wish I had gotten a picture . . . I just don't know where my head was . . . all the flowers were beautiful.)

Sometimes I am so impressed with my own accomplishments and then I think, well it's been 6 stinkin' weeks . . . I should be able to get my own leg off the bed. 

Olivia says she wishes she had a Mom . . . I told her she has one . . . but she wants one that can do stuff like, walk and "other Mom stuff" . . . what does barking orders from my bed not count?

(this was my worst day - besides the first 2 days anyway - in the hospital  . . . I was so, so sick again that day and I was suppose to feeling better.  I can't remember that day hardly at all . . . luckily, right?)

I do remember thinking that I was definitely a high functioning narcotics user.  I seemed to be able to think and process everything just as clear on the drugs as off . . . other than I would have random outbursts (like "it's all yellow in here") and then have to tell Ansen that I had no idea what I was saying and to ignore me.  Plus I had really violent body twitches.  I've now read some of the emails and texts I wrote (even to clients) and I'm mad that Ansen actually gave me a computer and let me go at it. 

Luckily the first 3 weeks are a complete and absolute haze.  And luckily I'm seeing new improvements almost daily now, so I'm thinking we can only go up from here.

Our new mornings

It all unravels so quickly . . . the work you put into "training" your children. 

It's been 3 weeks (posted late since it's harder to download pics now) and EVERYTHING is pretty much out the window.  Drew is a little turkey (i.e. MONSTER).  Granted he's 2 1/2 and right now he is testing every boundry, every minute of the day.  My goodness I love him, but oh my goodness he's crafty.  He's a smart little sucker (they always are) and knows exactly how to play me, Ansen, Banna, Kendall . . . anyone around.

We're loving (and hating) his little lines though -

"Oh, it's coming" - he needs to pee

"It's not working, it's not working" - when anything is not going his way

"I don't want to" - about everything (get in his bed, eat dinner, get dressed, etc.)

"MyAddie . . . MyDaddy . . . MyMommy" - fill in the blank to whoever is not threatening his freedom at that exact moment

"I want my George" - he wants to watch Curious George 

 . . . we've decided that he's a lot like George with his facial expressions that try to convey that there is no possible way he could understand you and he was honestly trying to be good.

Anyway . . . this is how our mornings go now . . .

no jobs, ON TIME though and movies on the iPad

(and I'm not saying my pictures were perfection before, but they're way worse due the fact that I can't move now)

and then the girls are off

(and Marianne and Kate came to babysit us that morning . . . aren't these two the cutest?!  they're just 6 weeks apart in age)

Elephant!

A couple of years go my brother in law, Chris, taught us that if you say "Elephant" right when you feel like you're going to sneeze, the sneeze will go away.

Well, right now I have used that religiously since sneezing and coughing makes every part of my body hurt and I'd just really like to avoid that these days.

I've tried it out before, but now rather than just saying it, the intensity of the situation makes me have to yell it. I did it for the first time a week or two ago and after I yelled "Elephant" I hear Ansen yell "Tiger" from the kitchen. His humor was almost unappreciated.

Kendall came again yesterday and she was walking down the hall when she heard me yell "Elephant." She thought I had developed Tourrettes in the last 2 weeks.

I'm not sick, I just have to sneeze and so the urge to sneeze keeps coming back . . . probably waiting for me to actually let it out. Tonight Kendall called it my kid friendly Tourettes and Ansen, Kendall and I have been laughing all night about it.

Late Thanksgivings

I don't want to be a big complainer, but this is hard.  This is really hard.  It's not harder and it's not bigger than what other people have had to endure, but it's hard. 

There are a few things that I have been most thankful for -

First, I am so confident that I have a Heavenly Father that knows exactly what is happening.  I know that in so many different (and very specific) ways he prepared me (us) for this accident.  There is no denying that he protected me (and my family) during the crash.  And because I can see this so clearly, I know that he will continue with me, with Ansen, to the end.  He will be here to comfort me in the difficult moments and push me through the hard things.  

I am grateful that I understand that we are given trials in life to help us to grow, to make us better people.  I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father that loves me enough to create an opportunity that will help me become more.  I'm not quite sure of all that I will learn yet, but I am already confident that this is changing the direction of the path I was on in life.  And apparently I need a good 3-4 months to sit and think about it.  I know me.  A week or two would not do the job . . . I'd be back to the same routine, same path.   But I'm hoping that a good couple of months will do the trick and I think Heavenly Father is too. 

Second, I am married to an incredible guy.  I have no idea what I would do without him . . . now and forever.  He is so kind, so patient, so attentive, so understanding and so sympathetic.  I know that I am the one that is hurting, but it is Ansen who is doing all the work.  He gets everyone moving in the morning, he takes care of all my morning needs, heads off to a long day at work, walks into the commotion of homework, dinner, bedtime and me, then keeps the house running with nightly chores, more work and falls into bed exhausted every night.  He is working hard.  He loves me and I really love him.  I needed to be reminded of that I think.

And last, I realized in the hospital that if I had to begin the recovery process knowing that we had to send one of our children back to live in Heavenly Father in that crash, it would have made the recovery feel impossible. Even knowing what I know about eternal life, it would have felt like too much. I'm selfish I guess, but I want those three sweet spirits here on earth with me. I want to share every moment with them and I am so thankful that Heavenly Father let me keep them here for now.  I haven't appreciated enough that I get to be a mother. So, so thankful.

Home

Tuesday was my first day home.  Of course along this whole process there will be moments of new realizations  . . . over and over. 

Tuesday was one . . . not the first one, but one.

  That morning Ansen sat me up in bed, moved my legs off the bed, helped me stand up and move into my wheel chair and then pushed me into the middle of the family room.  He put my brakes on so Drew couldn't push me around.  He then went to work cleaning up and getting ready for Kendall and the kids to come home.  He busily moved around and
I just sat there. 

After awhile he came back upstairs and passed by me, noticing I had sad, full eyes he asked what was wrong.  I told him I realized that I was going to have to just sit and look at my Fall decorations for the next 3 months.  Ansen gently told me, we would get it that too as soon as we could. 

It was just a metaphor though . . . I realized that for the next however long, I am going to just sit and just look at things while everyone else around me keeps on moving and working . . .
and for me, that's the worst. 

Lisa did come take down Fall and put up Christmas that night, while Ansen ran errands and Kendall put the kids to bed  . . . lucky to have family.

I remember . . .

And now . . . where do I even start?! 

I woke up, slumped in the car with the paramedics asking me where it hurt and pushing on me everywhere.  We were going to have to wait to have me cut out of the car, but then they figured out a way to pull me out of the passenger door.  I did open my eyes for a brief second and remember watching them take the first cut up the sleeve of my new Costco coat (that I loved) . . . how could they? . . . . there wasn't another way? . . . and then back out. 

I remember them telling me my husband would be there soon and opening my eyes again for a brief second as he stood over me telling me he loved me.  A man behind me stopped, called 911 and then found my cell phone and called Ansen (I actually wondered the other day why I even actually put "ICE" next to Ansen's name, but oh my gosh - thankfully I did) to tell him I was in a serious accident, but I was talking.  Ansen drove like a mad man (seriously . . . the Taurus will apparently go over 120 miler per hour) and got there. He was relieved when he saw the one, whole side of the van, but then walked around to see the other side and started crying. 

I made it to the hospital and was pretty much in and out of consciencness for several hours . . . thankfully.  It made all the hard parts go by faster and left me with very little memory of the details.  I remember them telling me a man was in the waiting room waiting for me.  I assumed it was Ansen, but they told me it was my Dad.  I remember the feelings of comfort that washed over me again as I realized that Ansen and my Dad were now there.

I remember that our neighbor, Mike showed up.  I remember that Ansen, my Dad and Mike gave me a blessing.

I struggled to put together the details of what happened.  In the ambulance they told me I ran into a parked car, which I couldn't make any sense of, but finally in the Cat Scan I remembered there was a ladder  and then finally I did remember running into a parked car.   I remember that I was able to piece together where each of my kids were and that even though they had told me they were safe, I was able to verify it for myself with my own memory.

 I found out I had broken my pelvis in 4 places, broke all the "wings" off the bottom 5 vertebrae of my back, had a collapsed  lung, several broken ribs and internal bleeding around my kidney and adrenal gland.

I remembr most that my husand, my Mom and my Dad sat dutifully by my side all day. 

 I remember knowing that Heavenly Father knew exactly what was going on and he was there too.  He, for some reason, spared my life.

It's bad . . .

but I'm alive and I have been so very, very blessed.

(the only window that wasn 't shattered)

(All of the side airbags went off.  Matt investigating the details of the damage.)

I survived, but had Olivia been with me (see her car seat broken to bits and her chair broken in half among other things) she would not have survived and I'm not sure about Drew either.

More details to come (when I'm up to it) but I was on the freeway, there was ladder going perpendicular to my lane - in my lane, I swerved, I braked, I fishtailed and hit side on into the flat bed truck that was stopped to retrieve the ladder.  

I escaped with relatively minor injuries (but still not good) when you consider what could have been . . .

The scariest moment was when I realized I couldn't remember anything and with my heart hoping for the best,  not even physically capable of imagining the worst, I asked the paramedic if my children had been with me?

I know that Heavenly Father protected me and our family. 

I'm so very grateful for the many, many prayers that have been offered on our behalf.

It really alters your perspective on life.