I have a confession...I haven't always been a reader

I have a strong desire to confess something to the world. Many of you have commented through Facebook about my reading. "Wow, you're a fast reader" or " You sure do read a lot". Well, here it is. Wait for it. I've only really been a reader for about a year. It's true. I used to HATE reading. I got so annoyed with Nick for wanting to read while we were on our honeymoon. I kept telling him he could read for free when we got home. The rest of my family can also tell you about my past hate for reading. I would beg my mom and sister not to read on trips. My mom has told me stories of trying to read to me as a child and I was not interested AT ALL. It frustrated my reader mother. I apparently had issues. I also remember many overseas flights where it would have been very convenient to be a reader, but no, I just suffered from boredom. Now I realize how much I've missed all these years.
So what changed? I have no idea. I read maybe a handful of books up until a year ago. I can't even remember what they might have been other than a few Dr. Phil books and "Tuesdays with Morrie" in college. Man, that book was embarrassing. I read it while working the front desk of the dorms in college and had people ask if I was ok when they noticed I was sobbing. Anyway, back to the question. What changed. I was inspired to read "The Last Lecture" last year after watching a re-run of Oprah. What an amazing book. It was a life changing book. Read it if you haven't already, you won't be sorry. I truly enjoyed myself and decided to give another book a try. I started with "Twilight" because everyone kept talking about it and ended up finishing the entire series in two weeks. I moved on to the Harry Potter series and I have been hooked on reading ever since.
My point of all of this is to confess that I'm not this amazing reader everyone keeps commenting about. I just have A LOT of catching up to do. There, I've said it. I feel cleansed. I hope you still like me after realizing I'm not the amazing reader you thought.

Mr. Wonderful on this Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving. A season that always reminds me so much of my Grandpa who is also affectionately known as Mr. Wonderful. A self given title, but true all the same. Besides my dad he was the only other significant male figure my life. I love that man and miss him terribly. Before Liam, he was the closest person to me that died.

Mr. Wonderful LOVED Thanksgiving. I'm pretty sure it was his favorite holiday. He loved the food and was always first in line when it was time to eat. He would usually be back in line getting seconds right behind the last person in line. Did I mention he loved the food? All food? He loved Thanksgiving naps too. Well, he loved naps everyday actually, but his large Thanksgiving meal was notoriously followed by a nap.

But more than that, I think he loved Thanksgiving so much because it meant time with family. Oh how he loved his family. He had six grandkids but I'm pretty sure I was the favorite. I'm also positive that if you asked the other five they would say the same thing too. He had a way of making us all feel like the favorite and made sure we knew how much he loved and adored us. When I was in college Mr. Wonderful wrote me a letter every week I was away. EVERY WEEK. My BFF Aimee, would even look forward to the letters from Mr. Wonderful. I would get them on Wednesday usually and he would always include comics and pizza money. I'm sad my younger cousins didn't get to experience that. I also remember growing up, he had a pet rhinoceros named George. Mysteriously, George was always in jail for some reason or another when we would come to visit so we never got to meet him. But oh, the stories he would tell about George. George was pretty ornery, just like Mr. Wonderful.

I miss him today and will be thinking of him constantly. I remember the last words I ever heard him speak to me, "I love you." I know he will be with us today and I know he has his namesake, my precious Liam Miller, with him. For that, I am Thankful.

Mister's Quest for the Hobbit Life

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas--again. I do love this time of year, when the shadows grow longer and the trees become alight with fiery hues of red, orange and yellow.

There is a richness to autumn, in the colors, the smells, the food. I want time to slow down. I want to take walks in the woods. I want to make memories with my family.

It seems it all comes and goes so fast now and before you know it, winter has set in and I become frozen in the post-holiday vacuum of icy monotony. There is no holiday to aim for, no feast to gather around and the chill nights are not tempered by the last hold outs of summer. There is always Easter, but that is sometimes lost around here these days.

In my sophistication, I yearn to be simple again. I will never again know simplicity as I did because of my sophistication. Layers of complexity have accumulated throughout the years, most of it self-inflicted--the drive to be something which was anywhere I was not at the time. I have always struggled to be content where I am. Maybe, if I am just present where I am, contentment will follow.

Now where's my pipe and hobbit hole?

The amazing man I married

I feel and overwhelming desire to let the world know how wonderful I think my husband is. I truly believe he is the man that was made for me and we were meant to spend our lives together.

Let me start at the beginning though. We kind of went to high school together although he was a sophomore when I was a senior. Yes, I married a younger man. We were in band together so that is how I was somewhat familiar with him. I use that term loosely because all I remember really is there was this kind of nerdy male flute player with long hair and I really thought he had no friends. Turns out, he is still kind of nerdy and has no hair, but he had and still has tons of friends. Boy was I wrong. Fast forward several years later when we met again at the psych ward. As employees of course, not patients. He was engaged to someone else and I was in a...well, let's call it a close friendship. Nick and I became friends, both of our relationships ended, and we became closer friends. We hung out all the time until he had a crazy idea to join the army. A few days into basic training 9/11 happened. Crap! My little army friend just wanted to get some college money and now he might go to war. I wrote my little army friend a letter every day he was gone. He was gone from September-April so you can imagine that's a lot of letters. Nick was scheduled to come home for Christmas and as his visit got closer our letters became more serious and we started talking about how we needed to "talk" when he came home. Well, our serious talk consisted of this:

Laura: When are you going to "talk" to me?

Nick: Are you talking about the fact that we are insanely crazy about each other?

Laura: :)

End of conversation. We've been together ever since. And were married a year and a week after that conversation.

When we got married we vowed to love one another in sickness and health. Nick says I'm the sickness and he's the health. Sometimes I wonder if he really knew how much sickness there would be, but I think he still would have signed up even if he'd have known. Right after Isaac was born, my rheumatoid arthritis flared really bad so Nick was the one who woke up EVERY night with Isaac so I could get sleep and be able to take care of Isaac during the day. How many dad's can say they were the parent who was up all night with the baby? He continues to be just as hands on with Isaac as he was in the beginning. He's the parent who bathes Isaac and puts him to bed every night. I love that he is the most amazing dad to my sons. He even put Liam to "bed" as he was the one to lower him into the grave and covered him with dirt.

This man I married loves me more than I ever imagined possible. He calls me his hero. Me? I'm the hero? I think not. He's the hero. He's the one who keeps things going when I can't. He's the one who takes care of Isaac and I. He is our rock. We'd be lost without him. I thank God every day that He made Nick for me. I can't imagine my life without him. I'm quite possibly the luckiest girl in the world. Next month we will celebrate 8 years of marriage. I can't wait to see what the next eight years has in store for us. Like the last 8, I'm sure there will be good times and bad, more sickness and health, but no matter what life throws at us I am confident that we will get through it because we are Team Zumwalt and we can do anything as long as we have each other.

How come?

For those of you parents out there, do you remember the stage in your child's life when they started incessantly asking "how come" or "why" to the point you want to scream? Well, we've hit that stage in my house big time. Isaac is a smart boy and he always asks a lot of questions but lately the "how come" questions seem to be never ending. Like today, he asked "how come that bus is right there?" How the heck do you answer that? Who cares why the bus is there. It's driving somewhere to pick up kids or take them home. So that answer leads to "how come the bus has to take the kids home?" For real kid? Can't we just drive down the street in peace and quiet?

Last week he asked why there were cones in the road. I said because they are doing construction. He asked why were they doing construction so I told him the road was old. He asked why the road was old. I told him that sometimes roads get worn out when lots of people drive on them. He asked why lots of people drive on the road. I saw no end in sight from this line of questioning so I referred him to his dad who just turned the music up louder. To which Isaac asked "why did you turn the music up?"

Then it gets more frustrating because if you say "I don't know" that just leads to more questions. I like that he wants to learn and ask questions but Momma could use a break. I'm exhausted. Again, I like that he wants to learn and is highly intelligent but lately his "need to know gene" that I'm pretty sure he got from his father, is really grating on my nerves. I could care less why the road gets old or why the bus is driving down the road.

Mister's 6 Month Check-up

Six months later and I'm still standing at the edge of the crater where the bombs went off. Funny thing is, they are still going off around me and I do not seem to mind.

I feel paralyzed and yet do not want to try and move. I identify with my obliviousness, I embrace my disconnection with life around me. It stops me from feeling, from getting hurt by the bombs that continue to fall around me. I am comfortable here where the flood waters have covered me--Insulated.

It's still a small crew that gets it, that talks about it, a core that remains bonded in grief. Some of the closest people to me do not speak of it.

I don't want to be coddled--I want to be acknowledged, validated. It's very lonely where I am because this isn't something you would ever want anyone else to have to understand. I do want people to acknowledge that life will never be the same, that my wife has never been sicker, and that Isaac will probably never have a sibling to bring home to keep. Insulation.

The harsh events do bring me comforting certainty, know we can't have any more children, that there is no hope brings me solace: that I never have to lose a child that way again. The word "possibility," the phrase "with close medical supervision" only brings me pain right now, for I cannot fathom enduring that pain again. One time is a tragedy, to willfully repeat it is folly, hubris in the face of the Creator.

Laura is doing better though...it's amazing the things you do to your body to fix the other parts of your body. She takes 7 medications, 13 pills a day in an effort to stop and reverse the damage to her kidneys, the damage that Lupus has done, the Lupus that was caught by an obstetrician, not her rheumatologist, the very specialist that told her that other doctors shouldn't diagnose what they are not trained in. We are blessed by a team of doctors that truly live up to the oath. I am blessed by the strongest, most amazing woman that I do not deserve. My wife is my hero and she brings out the best parts of me. While she would not be able to open her gas cap if I was gone, my heart would stop if I didn't have her...I know because I almost lost her 6 months ago tonight.

This is a bitter, yet thankful posting, the best I can do on this raw milestone of a life that was over too soon. I miss you, Liam...Daddy loves you so much

Has it really been 6 months?

Six months ago today I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy named Liam. Unfortunately, he wasn't mine to keep. I'm not going to lie, I'm really sad today. And I''m going to let myself be sad. It's part of the healing process. No parent should ever have to bury their child. It's unnatural. It's a pain I've never known and hope to never experience again. I still remember everything about that day. My water had started leaking but I was scared to tell anyone because I knew what it meant. How I needed to push but desperately didn't want to because I knew it would be over and he would be dead. He was so active and thriving inside me and once he was out, hope would be gone. I remember what he felt like against my skin, what he smelled like, what he looked like. I was so sad that I would never get to know him. I would never get to see him cry, laugh, smile, roll his eyes at me. I would never feel his hugs, watch him learn to walk, or hear the sound of his feet running on the floor. Nothing, it was over. I was devastated. Numb. It was unimaginable.

But, even though I remember all the sad parts, I also remember all the less sad parts too. Like the fact that I was surrounded by people who truly cared about me and my family. People who were strangers to me before this nightmare happened. I had the most amazing doctor by my side (she wasn't a stranger) throughout the entire process. Dr. Lofgren is the most amazing doctor I've ever known. She has been by our side since we had Isaac and she continues to be a huge part of out lives. I had AMAZING nurses. Sam and Lauren were there holding my hand and supporting me throughout the entire process. I will never forget what they did for me and I can never thank them enough for the extraordinary care they gave me and my family. I actually had a lot of amazing nurses the entire 12 days I was in the hospital. The staff at the Women's Center at Hillcrest is truly amazing. Cheryl and Taber were also amazing nurses that I will never forget. Then there was Ron. The hospital chaplain who didn't know me before all this, he just knew of me through my mom who is an employee at the hospital. What a blessing he was and still is to this day. Ron continues to check on us, counsel us, and support us. What an amazing man. Ron even officiated Liam's service and for that we are eternally grateful.

Again, I'm not even going to lie and say I'm not sad today. But I also know I could be a lot more sad. I didn't know Liam. I never got to bond with him or know his personality. I only lost a future, not a past AND a future. I can't even begin to imagine the pain of losing a child you've had the opportunity to raise. I don't know how parents who have experienced that kind of loss even breathe after that kind of pain. My family could be a lot more sad too. They could have lost Liam and me. They didn't, and I am grateful. My living son still has his mother. And thanks to Liam, their mother is getting healthy.

I can't believe it has been six months already. Half a year has gone by and it still feels like yesterday. I wish I could say it gets easier. It doesn't. Maybe it will one day. There are just some days that it's not as raw. I still long for him and probably always will. Liam is a blessing. Even though I didn't get to keep him, he will always be a blessing to our family. We love you Liam Miller Zumwalt. We will be together again one day.

The Glad Game

When I was younger, Disney movies were not like they are today. I'm not saying they were better, just more wholesome perhaps. I remember watching movies like "Old Yeller", "The Parent Trap", "Mary Poppins", and one of my all time favorites "Pollyanna". In the movie, Pollyanna is the main character and she is a orphan type who goes around softening some really hardened people. In the movie, Pollyanna plays a game called The Glad Game. The goal of the game is to find something to be glad about no matter how bad your life is at the moment. She believes there is always something to be glad about. Turns out, she was on to something.

I play my own version of that game and have for years. Everytime I get down I look around me and try to find things I am grateful for and I'm usually overwhelmed by how blessed I am. I played it today on my way to work so I will share it with you.

Today I was glad I had a car to get me to and from work. I was glad I had a pike pass so I didn't have to stop and pay the toll since I was late. When I passed the Cancer Treatment Center of America I was so glad that I don't know anyone who needs their services at the moment. Then I passed TCC and was so grateful that I finished college with no student loan debt thanks to my wonderful parents. I drove passed Target and I was grateful that I don't work there during the Christmas season. I drove by some apartments and I was so glad that I am able to own a beautiful home. I saw advertisements on billboards for the cyber knife and I was glad that with all my health problems, needing a cyber knife is not included in that. I was glad I was not that Mitsubishi that had a blow out on the BA expressway. Today was court day for my job so when I got to court I was so glad that I was there for business reasons and not because someone needed to intervene on behalf of my child. I was glad that the only addiction problem I've ever had to deal with is my addiction to Dr. Pepper and chapstick. I was glad that at the end of the day I have an amazing kid that I get to go home and squeeze and a husband who I truly believe was the man who God made for me. I could keep going but I think you get the point and I don't want to bore you.

Sometimes it's really easy to get focused on all the crappy parts of life. But I also truly believe that it can be just as easy to focus on things you're glad about. It's a really easy game and I strongly encourage each of you to play it. It really does put things in perspective and you quickly realize that even though bad things happen in life, there is always something to be glad about.

Team William

This is my nephew William. He has a special place in my heart. Like me, he has been "sick" most of his life. He was Twin B born at 28 weeks gestation. Twin B means he pretty much got the shaft on the inside from Twin A who stole all the good stuff. Don't get me wrong, Twin A struggled too for a while. Anyone would, he was born 12 weeks too early. But he quickly caught up and you'd never be able to tell he was premature. There were lots of moments after William was born that we were scared he wouldn't make it. And by lots, I mean LOTS! My poor sister. But his name is William. He had the "Will" to live. And live he did. It wasn't easy on him. William had to be a fighter from day one. He was in the hospital for MONTHS and when he was finally discharged he frequently found himself back in the hospital. My sister even watched him code on one of those visits to the pink palace. He was on oxygen for the first two and a half years of his life because his lungs were so damaged from all those months on a ventilator as well as being under developed. When they took him off oxygen he finally learned to walk. Now he runs. William has been sick a lot and is slightly behind developmentally but is catching up every day. Every time I see him he is saying more words and bossing his siblings and cousin around. His only food source for his entire four years of existence has been a feeding tube. Until now. My sister informed us yesterday that twice he asked for chips, he drank juice, and nibbled on cheese at the dinner table last night. He is in special education classes at Jenks and his teacher informed my sister today that he has been caught stealing snacks from the other kids. Praise God! I love my little thief of a nephew! My little nephew may be well on his way to completely catching up to his ornery Twin A!! I'm pretty sure I couldn't be more excited or proud.

Just call me Captain Roid Rage

If you are my Facebook friend, you have heard by now that I am currently on 60 mg of steroids in an effort to get my Lupus and ultimately my kidneys back under control. It has been about 4 weeks now and let me just tell you what 4 weeks of a high dose of steroids do to a person.

1) I have gained weight. I am one of those people who couldn't really afford to gain weight, but nevertheless, it has happened. All that weight loss I experienced after the stroke is ancient history. I'm not eating more. I'm trying to be really aware of what I put in my mouth. A lot of the weight gain is the result of swelling. I'm swollen from my toes to my hips. Hopefully the lasiks (sp) will help.

2) Acne. With all the health crap I've had to deal with since I was 6 the one thing I could be grateful for was good skin. I have never struggled with acne...until now. My face has exploded like a 13 year old going through puberty. It's gross. Between the hair loss from the lupus, weight gain, and now acne from the steroids, my self esteem is being severely impacted.

3)Sleep deprivation. Like clockwork, I wake up at 4 in the morning. Every. Morning. Awesome. This is even after I've struggled for quite some time to even fall asleep. I stare at the ceiling until I finally fall back asleep just in time for the alarm to go off. Again, awesome.

4) The anger. I am so irritable all the time. I can't control it. If you know me well you know that I'm a fairly nice person. I don't snap at people. I try to be polite and courteous to everyone. I'm always the nice one. Not so anymore. It's only Thursday and at work I have publicly snapped at several different people. This is TOTALLY out of character for me. Last week I got so mad at Taylor Swift for having the nerve to play on my ipod while I was at work. Like she had done it to irritate me on purpose. I was pretty sure ALL traffic yesterday was conspiring against me to get in my way and prevent me from getting to my destination. If you have been the victim of my rage, I sincerely apologize. I don't want to be mean. I'm trying really hard not to. I can't control it. It happens before I'm even aware then I feel guilty.

The good news is the roids seem to be working. I went to the kidney doctor today and although he didn't decrease my dose, we did see improvement in my lab work which is a step in the right direction and a step closer to reducing the dose. At this point he plans on keeping me at the current dose for 4 more weeks and we will see where we are at in a month. Keep your fingers crossed and in the meantime, don't hang out with me. I'm not fun. It's safer for all of us this way. Trust me. Oh, and pray for my family, they don't have a choice but to hang out with me. And if you are brave enough to hang out with me, I apologize in advance and consider yourself warned.

Halloween 2010...check.

So another Halloween has come and gone. Several weeks ago we started asking Isaac what he wanted to be for Halloween. His response was quick and confident, he wanted to be the Titanic. Oh. "Well, if you can't be the Titanic what do you want to be?" Again, the Titanic. We strongly encouraged him to have a plan B which he eventually did, Wolverine. How the heck does he know about the Titanic and Wolverine? It's surely not because of anything we have taught him. We eventually went to the Halloween store and he saw the Harry Potter costume and made me very proud when he decided that is what he would be for Halloween. We love Harry in this house so imagine the pride I felt when my four year old took interest.

Can I just say that I truly believe that my son was the cutest Harry Potter I think I've seen in my whole life. The robe, glasses, tie, and wand were just about the cutest thing ever. He was all pumped to go trick or treating. He's four so his bucket isn't very big and he quickly returned home with an overflowing bucket. He had fun but what struck me as amazing and prompted this blog was the fact that I truly believe my son had more fun when he got home and helped us pass out candy to the other kids. Isaac was so thrilled every time someone came to the door and he could give them a treat. He had such enjoyment in putting candy in other kid's buckets that I filled with pride. Here was a four year old that had more fun GIVING than taking. I've always known that he had a generous spirit but to see it in action on a regular basis makes this momma so proud.

I must add a disclaimer that I don't really even consider Halloween a real holiday which is why I was even more moved by the actions of my four year old. Even this non-holiday turned into a "giving" occasion. I realize its just candy but that's huge for a kid. At least I think so. I love that about my kid. I hope he doesn't loose sight of what is important in life. We have enough takers in this world. We need to keep all the givers we can.

Now, is it too early to put up the Christmas lights?