our {matkin} family

Every so often, Brigham doesn’t want to go to sleep. He doesn’t throw a fit or anything — he just quietly wanders in to my room and stands next to the bed. I ask him if something is wrong, he tells me that nothing is wrong. I try to pry out if he needs something or is worried or scared about anything.  Nope. Nothing is wrong. When I ask why he isn’t in bed, he says he wants to be with me because he loves me so much. 

This boy!!!  He has my heart. My middle boy. Such an unexpected sweetheart sometimes. 

It’s hard to feel like I’m giving all of my children equal time. I worry about Brigham the most because he is my middle boy. He’s only seven-years-old, and yet it seems like the weight of the world is pressing down on his heart. But on these rare nights when the baby is asleep, the older two are already in bed, and Shawn has been snoring for at least an hour... I’m happy to spend a few moments talking to my son and caring for him. I don’t even mind that it’s late and we will end up wanting to sleep in tomorrow morning. 

Tonight, we read from The Book of Mormon together. Sam has started reading every night on his own and I told him I wanted to try to catch up to him. I’m halfway there. As I read to Brigham, I took a little time to explain to him what was going on. We talked about Laman and Lemuel beating Nephi with a rod because they were mad at him and how that was no way for an older brother to treat his younger brother. I pointed out to him how Laman and Lemuel returned to whining and complaining moments after they had been visited by an angel. We agreed that we couldn’t imagine acting like that after having an angel speak to us. It was a precious, quiet, little moment with Brigham that I want to cherish. I had to make a record of it. 

I started this blog oh-so-long ago because I wanted to keep a record of our life. I’ve let Instagram, Facebook and other apps/websites help me in this matter, but sweet moments like this one can’t be fully expressed or appreciated in a status update. I need to remember the good things that happen. I want to remember them. I need to remember them. 

Since Zachary was born, I’ve been having lots of emotions flood my mind. I’ve been worrying that I spent too much of my “young motherhood” being frustrated at life. I feel like I don’t remember my older children when they were small. All I remember sometimes is how tiring and hectic and this and that all of it was... and I mourn the loss of those years. I’ve mourned them so much that I’ve allowed myself to get swallowed up in those feelings and I’ve missed even more precious time and moments. This cycle can’t continue. So I’ll begin tonight to try and do more recording and less lamenting. 

Being the silly woman I am, I asked Brigham tonight if he wished I was a better mom. That sweet boy replied, “I like you just how you are right now.”  We really are doing better than we think we are. I am always one to welcome change for the better. I love seeking out improvements. And I feel that this resolution (which I hope has a longer lifespan than any other resolution I’ve made) will help me to see the good and praiseworthy and lovely moments of our life. 

And if my children are ever reading this record and can’t imagine why I would even care to try and remember to record all of this... the answer is the same as why Brigham wanted to be with me tonight:  BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!

Today, I received a phone call from my OB's office with the results of our DNA testing.  All is normal and healthy with the baby... and we also were told that it is 99.987% positively A BOY!  

When the nurse had first asked me if I wanted to know the gender of the baby, I had to pause for a moment to catch my breath.  She thought I was wanting to have my husband in the room with me or something - but I just wanted to prepare myself for what she had to say.  haha!  I knew that this would be our last baby and that I would be happy with either a boy or a girl.  But I also knew that the kids were really hoping for a girl - Lillian especially.  My heart hurt a little knowing that disappointment was coming for them.

I decided to wait to tell Shawn until he got home and I could record his reaction.  He had always "known" it was going to be a boy.  I think he just hoped really hard because - growing up with all brothers - he doesn't understand girls.  After I told Shawn, away from the children, it was time to tell them all.  I had told the kids that I would tie a ribbon around my belly in either pink for a girl or blue for a boy and then it would be revealed to them.

So, the big moment came, and I opened my cardigan cover to show them the ribbon color.  They all had said they thought it would be FOR SURE a girl.  They were so surprised and happy to see a blue ribbon.  At first.  I should say - at first - they were all happy to see a blue ribbon.  As the reality of it all sank in for Lillian, her heart broke a little and she had to have a little cry that she would never have a sister.  My heart broke for her a little too.  I'm happy to be having a healthy baby.  But, I'm sad that my daughter had her hopes dashed today.  

We tried to cheer her up by saying she would always have a bedroom all to herself and would never have to share clothes or toys with a sister... but that did not comfort her.  She WANTED to do those things.  What an angel!  So, we told her that she would have lots of sisters when her brothers got married.  That seemed to help a little.  And we also reminded her that this meant she was going to be her Daddy's one and only princess.  That helped a little more.  I know as time passes, the sadness of not having a baby sister will pass for her (and all of us) too.

My mind keeps thinking about the language in my patriarchal blessing promising that I would have "sons and daughters".  My body is barely hanging on to having this baby as it is.  I know I can't go on having children forever.  We have to age.  Facts of life.  So, I think my comfort in knowing that I will have "sons and daughterS" also comes from believing that my sons will marry good women whom I will come to know and love as daughters of my own.

For our 11th Wedding Anniversary (February 28, 2015), Shawn and I celebrated by going out to dinner at The Melting Pot.  We decided to splurge and purchase a big package.  With the package, we got a private table (super tiny space with a needless curtain - wouldn't recommend it, necessarily), four courses, flowers, framed photo of us, and a champagne toast.  Because of our impending arrival (and belief in following The Word of Wisdom), we asked for a sparkling apple cider toast.  It was very lovely and decadent.  

It's amazing how often I think I'm going to remember things, and so I don't write them down.  Ridiculous.  I can't remember hardly anything that I don't write down.  And I have been shown time and time again how much I rely on actual, written down things.  What is the matter with me?!  GET IT IN PRINT, LADY!!!

So, what has happened in the past seven months?  Uh, duh.  Lots of things.  Let's see if we can get caught up, shall we?

August:  Surgery went great.  Recovery sucked.  It took much longer than I wanted it to.  In fact, by the time I made it from the recovery area to my hospital room, I was done and didn't want to go through this anymore.  We had lots of wonderful people come out of the woodwork to be kind and helpful to us.  Lots of calls, texts, emails, etc. of encouragement, prayers, and well wishes poured in, and each one of them was appreciated.  Along with all the meals, visits, flowers, cards - everything was so very much appreciated.  It's overwhelming to think of it now.  And the very best news was that the tumor turned out to not be cancer!  WHAT???  YES!!!  It was hard to believe.  In fact, the doctor on rotation was the first to tell me, and I politely told him that he was mistaken.  haha!  We told people that they must have prayed too hard for us... and for that we are extremely grateful.

September:  More recovery from surgery.  My kids learned how to care for themselves, and I had to rely on other more than I had before in my life.  It was humbling.  We also started up our third year of homeschooling.  (yes.  We are still homeschooling.  no.  No plans to change that any time soon.)  I decided not to write my own curriculum (based on state and national standards - not necessarily Common Core.  Relax.).  We started using an online system (not K12).  It seems to be going really well.  I don't love parts of it, so we do our own thing for some subjects, but it's still a lot easier for me and a lot more fun for the kids.  It has more manipulatives and activities that the kids enjoy.  Good change.

October:  I turned 35.  gross.  Lillian's Girl Scout troop started up again at our house.  Kids were as adorable as ever with their Halloween costumes.  Samuel was a grim reaper, Lillian was a witch, and Brigham was either Superman or a skeleton, depending on the day/party.  We got an interesting inquiry via text:  would we be interested in renting a house from our friends, the Astons.  Our property management company hadn't sent us a new lease agreement.  Typically, we get that from them back in August or September.  We had pretty much decided to move anyway because the cost of utilities was so high.  Within a week, if not just a couple days, we got a letter from our property management company telling us they were no longer offering long-term leases for any of their properties  in Arizona.  Uh.  Okay!  Good choice.

November:  I started decluttering and packing up our house.  Heather and I (mostly Heather) started working on getting our new house ready for us to move in.  Heather did way more than I did, but I have to admit:  I have never worked so hard in my life.  I was amazed that I could do it.  I had my three-month post-op follow up with my urologist.  I told him that I felt better than I had in a long time.  He said that he couldn't take credit for that, but I told him he should because there was nothing else to give credit to for the miraculous changes.  We moved in to our new house the weekend before Thanksgiving.  The next day after Thanksgiving, Sam turned 10 and my nephew Justin and his fiancee Laura went through the temple for the first time.  We had lots of great meals that weekend all together, and Sam liked having so many family members here for his birthday.

December:  Christmas.  It always comes and goes so quickly and I never feel like I get the chance to enjoy it.  It's a lot of work to make it special, and then it doesn't ever feel very much appreciated like I would want it to be.  Oh well.  If I did nothing, it might be missed.  Shawn turned 44.  We spent New Year's Eve (still technically December) stuck in traffic outside of Kingman, AZ in a snow storm trying to get to St. George, UT for the night.  We were on our way to Justin and Laura's wedding in Salt Lake.  

January:  We got to Las Vegas when it was midnight in AZ, said "Happy New Year" as we drove through, though it was not midnight in Nevada.  We were on the outskirts of Las Vegas when it was midnight there, so we said "Happy New Year" to one another after stopping for a potty break at a gas station, as we were in the car getting back on the freeway.  We got to St. George after 2 a.m. and went straight to bed in our comfy hotel room.  We made it to the wedding and had a wonderful time.  We got to see lots of lovely snow.  Not much more to report about January.  Holidays were over, so we had to start back up with school and everything else.

February:  Super Bowl Sunday, we got the biggest surprise ever.  On the next day, I was supposed to have a CT scan to continue the follow up from my kidney surgery (my 6 month appt. was in a couple of weeks).  I had a sinus infection and had been to the doctor's office for that the week prior.  They kept giving me sideways glances about how late my cycle was.  I waved them off, and thought almost nothing of it.  Almost.  I decided that I had better take a test prior to my CT scan, because they had to inject me with fluid for the diagnostic imaging - and that's not okay for pregnant women.  Well... there it was... two pink lines instead of one.  I couldn't have been more shocked.  Shawn too.  We are still wrapping our heads around it most days.  I had my first OB appt to confirm it a couple of weeks later.  Nothing beats seeing that little flicker of a heartbeat on ultrasound.  We had to adjust the diagnostic imaging for my urologist, but it worked out.  We would need to be more concerned had the tumor been cancerous.  (Isn't this all just incredible?  I can't even begin to contemplate the plan involved here.)  Dr. Kaplan was very sweet, as always.  I was afraid he would be irked at me for complicating things - couldn't have been further from the truth.  It was a relief.  At the end of the month, Shawn and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary.  We both got new phones (mine was dying a slow and miserable death) and had dinner at The Melting Pot.  Yum!

March:  Morning sickness and all that goes with it.  I feel like I'm in a haze and completely failing as a wife and mother.  Eating is the last thing I want to do sometimes, but it's also the only thing that helps keep the nausea at bay.  No food is desirable.  Cooking meals feels like being asked to accomplish the impossible.  My bed seems to want to enfold me and never release me.  I'm achy.  I'm tired of feeling this way.  And I hate complaining about it almost as much as I hate feeling it.  Thankfully, my family doesn't expect much and loves to help me out.  I don't know how I could be so blessed.  

So, that's where we are!  I hope to have photos for future posts.  Of course, most of my future posts will be pregnancy/baby updates to help me remember as much as I can for this baby.  I also need to be sure to post lots for my other children to help them remember their childhood in a good light... especially now that their mother is sooooooooo out of sorts.  I hope I snap back to normal soon.  Gonna work on it!

Yesterday, I had a pre-op appointment with my urologist.  (THIS GUY)  The hospital requires that I be seen by the operating doctor within thirty days of surgery.  (We missed the cut off with my first appointment by three days.)  So, I didn't quite know what to expect from this appointment, seeing as it was nothing more than a formality, really.

From behind the receptionist desk, I could hear him talking to his staff about wanting to meet with me in room one.  I noticed that he speaks very respectfully to his staff.  Then, to my shock, the door opened and he came out to the lobby to retrieve me for my appointment.  I've never had (or SEEN) a doctor do that before!  I was ushered in to the exam room with one of his NPs that I had met before, and we talked.  That's all.  Chatted.  He re-iterated what was going to happen with surgery and what to expect.  I asked a couple of questions about after the surgery. (Apparently, there will be a drain from my kidney on  my side that will be removed on day two - made me wonder how it was removed.  I imagine a hard yank that would make me feel like they were pulling on my nosehairs from my abdomen.  Not so, thank heavens.)  He said they would be performing four cases like mine that day - and that he thought I was the second one, if I was okay with that.  

"Sure," I said, "As long as you're not exhausted or anything at that point."  

"Oh no," he replied.  "We will just be hitting our stride by then."

"Okay good," I said.  "Go ahead and work out all the kinks on that first one."

Then we joked about warming up the robot, greasing the wheels, and stuff along those lines.

After that, we went to speak to their scheduler and find out at what time my surgery would take place.   Someone will call me on Friday to let me know.  Then, he walked me out to the lobby.  Wow.  Good guy, right?  

So, it was a simple appointment.  But, the thing I will remember most about my appointment is how I felt talking to my doctor.  I felt so incredibly calm and at peace.  He made me feel very safe and confident.  I left there feeling reassured that everything was going to work out because he would take care of me.  He always refers to me as "otherwise, perfectly healthy".  When I look at myself, "healthy" is not the word that comes to mind - but I definitely am glad to hear a medical professional say it to me.  haha!  

I guess the main thing I want to remember about these moments leading up to surgery is the calm and peace I've been able to feel.  Of course, I have my  moments where I'm weepy and a little scared.  I put on a brave face to pretty much everyone.  But, I want to remember the peace.  Being in the presence of my urologist brings me that peace.  And so, I know he will be guided and directed during the surgery.  I'm definitely looking forward to "looking back" on all of this, if that makes any sense at all.

This past weekend was our ward campout.  Shortly after I took this gorgeous picture of our fabulous view, my phone ran out of battery and died.  But, we had a good time any way!  Only a few families came and the portable toilet did not... so it wasn't perfection.  But!  We had a gorgeous view, great food, a random (but super nice) French couple came and camped right next to us in the middle of our group, the kids had a blast and it was a wonderful to not be sweating.  I actually got cold during the night.  IN AUGUST!  It was fabulous.  Can't complain about it all!  After the overnight campout, we headed over to Bearizona in Williams.  That's a whole post for itself.  Coming soon!  Gotta find the pictures in one of my cameras.   

I have been lax in my writing lately because I've been so preoccupied with things I did not want to write about.  However, I've been feeling lately that I should write about them because it is what's happening in our family right now.  So, here goes...

On March 21st, I awoke around 4am with intense pain on the right side of my upper abdomen that was radiating through my entire chest.  I thought I was either having a heart attack or throwing a blood clot (I had a sharp pain the previous couple of days in my right leg, but that was gone and replaced by the pain in my chest).  I could barely breathe or walk.  I told Shawn what was going on and he woke up shockingly fast.  (I used to say the man would perish should the house ever catch on fire because he is so impossible to wake up.)  In almost no time, he had called my mother to come watch the children, gotten himself dressed and put me in the car to go to the emergency room.  

Upon arrival to the emergency room, they ran a full series of tests:  EKG, blood tests, urinalysis, ultrasound, chest x-ray and CT Scan.  The CT Scan, I was told, finally revealed the problem... I had a severe blockage in my large intestine.  I was also told that my urinalysis was clear, that my blood pressure was elevated (due to the pain) and that my blood sugar and white blood cell count was elevated.  They believe the white blood cell count to be high because I also had a small amount of fluid in my lungs and diagnosed me with pneumonia.  I hadn't been coughing for the first time in months (I had been fighting a cold or something since Thanksgiving), but I believed them and took the prescribed antibiotics.

On April 3rd, we had an unusually cool and breezy day, so I opened most of the windows in the house.  I was sitting upstairs in my office at my desk (just as I am now).  Suddenly, I felt as though I had swallowed a bug (though I hadn't).  I started coughing and coughing.  The coughing became worse and worse and suddenly I was sick again.  On April 7th, I had to report for jury duty downtown.  So I went, hoping that I would get excused, but I didn't right away.  I wanted to perform my civil duty, so I tried to suffer in silence.  But, the judge could see what was going on and I was excused.

Feeling guilty about being excused from jury duty for being sick, I decided I had better go back to the doctor and get checked out... again.  So, I went to the doctor the next day.  I mentioned to him that I felt it was odd that I should be coughing and sick again so quickly after finishing antibiotics (just 1.5 weeks).  He asked me who had prescribed me antibiotics because he had no report of it.  I told him I had been at the hospital and why and that I was surprised that they had not notified him of it.  He told me that they never do, so he looked it up on his computer and saw all of the reports.  I had no idea the shock I was about to be handed.  

He said, "You were very sick."  Then asked if they had told me about everything that was going on.  I told him what they did tell me, which, it turns out, was about half of the story of what was going on.  Not only did I have a blocked large intestine, and a minimal amount of fluid on my lungs which probably did not require antibiotics as treatment... I also had a kidney stone, blood in my urine (COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I WAS TOLD ABOUT MY URINALYSIS!!!) and the CT Scan showed that I had a 1.3cm mass on my kidney.  WHAT????  He described it as being about the size of a small gumball.  

My doctor immediately said to not worry because it could be simply a cyst - which are very common and can come or go.  He also said it was even likely that I had moved or breathed wrong and caused the spot to show up.  When I asked why they didn't say something to me about it when I was in the emergency room, he told me that it was probably because I didn't complain of pain on that same side (but I had - come to find out) and that the ER staff doesn't actually care about you unless you are dying on the table in front of them.  Nice.  Makes me want to punch something.

So, he gave me an order to have an MRI done at the beginning of June to see if it had grown, shrunk or disappeared.  Naturally, I was hoping that it would have disappeared.  I tried not to worry, but panic set in and it was overwhelming.  I asked Shawn to give me a priesthood blessing and he did.  After that, I didn't worry about it again until after I had the MRI done.  It has to have been one of the most powerful  and spiritual experiences I have had with my husband and I am so grateful for the comfort and peace I immediately felt and continued to feel.

On June 10th, I had the MRI done.  It was horrible.  I guess I didn't realize just how claustrophobic I really am.  Of course, when you are facing your own mortality at the same time, it's a much more harrowing experience.  I had to nag quite a bit to get the results back from my doctor - I was a ball of nerves and had to know.  When my doctor called, I had hoped that I had worried about it enough that it would turn out to be nothing.  But it was something.  He said that because of it's coloring, density, and edges that it wasn't good - and that they rate these things on a scale from one to five (as to whether or not they are cancer) and that my "number is very high", but wouldn't give me a number.  He said I needed to see a urologist and have it removed, not biopsied, removed.  He said he would submit the referral and that the urologist's office would call me to make an appointment.  

Two work days later, I received a call and had an appointment.  Upon further investigation, I found out that the urologist I was going to see was not favorably received by his patients.  I felt that I needed to be comfortable in the care of the doctor operating on me.  My previous three operations were performed by my OB whom I know and love and completely safe and secure in his care.  So, I called a friend who had experienced this same thing and received a wealth of information.  She told me that she had seen the doctor that I was scheduled to meet with and that I should switch to her doctor - who happened to be in the same practice.  So I switched.  And I decided to look up and see just what my MRI results showed.  The mass was classified as a "Bosniak 4 Lesion".  So, I looked that up and found out that a Bosniak 4 Lesion is defined as 100% malignant.  So, it's cancer.  There we have it.  

Two weeks ago, Shawn and I met with the urologist.  Immediately, I felt that he was exactly who should take care of this for me.  We all spoke very easily with one another.  He answered my list of questions, kindly and respectfully.  He said that the main thing he wanted me to go home with was that this surgery was curative.  Afterward, I would no longer have cancer.  He said that he thought the surgery could be done laparoscopically, and that he would only need to remove about half of the kidney.  However, the main objective is to make sure that at the end of the surgery I am cancer free.  If they have to cut me open or remove the entire kidney to make sure that all the cancer is gone, they will.  There are many other details, but I grow tired of the details.

So now, we wait.  My surgery is scheduled for three weeks from today.  I will be in the hospital for a few days and then will need to recuperate for a few weeks.  Thankfully, as of right now, I feel completely fine.  I've been a little bit more tired lately, but that's my only possible symptom.  I'm looking forward to all of this being completely behind me.  I've learned a lot.  Some good things, some bad... mostly good.  I've learned that my ward family - though I still feel rather new in the ward (even though I'm not) - is more wonderful than I knew.  The outpouring of love, concern, prayers and support has been overwhelming and I am profoundly grateful for it.  I've learned that we have to ask the right questions when it comes to our medical care, or else we won't be given the answers.  We also need to get copies of all of our medical records and lab reports and be prepared to be our own advocates when it comes to our medical care.

I feel like I've grown so much in the past few months - and the age probably shows in the wrinkles on my face.  But I am grateful for the series of events that led me to this discovery.  I truly felt that I was guided to get this little gumball found.  I know that the surgery and recovery time won't be entirely pleasant, but I am grateful that it will all be over soon enough.  

A friend of mine shared this wonderful quote and I instantly loved it.  The comfort and peace we have felt has been wonderful and I am so grateful for it.

Yesterday, on a whim, we decided to take a trip up to Flagstaff.  It had been a rare weather miracle that fresh powder had fallen the night before, so we rushed up there to be a part of it.  It was awesome!  We had an absolute blast!  I am so glad that we decided to go!  It's nothing short of a miracle that we lizards even had the hats, scarves, and gloves to wear up there.  I got lots of great photos, and so this post is photo-heavy, but it was hard enough to choose just these few to share.

WE ABSOLUTELY LOVED ALL THAT SNOW!!!  We all wish we lived in it so badly.  Maybe after having to scrape ice and shovel snow we would feel differently, but I kind of doubt it.  We are definitely glad that Flagstaff is only a few hours away and we can head up there every now and then during the winter to enjoy real winter weather.

We took the kids to a super lame play area, which they loved and then went to dinner at California Pizza Kitchen - a first for me.  It was fun!  Shawn met us there after he got off work and we had a great time.  The best part was that we did something rather spontaneous and silly - which is the perfect recipe for good memories with our children.  I love it!  I hope we take the chance to do things like this more often.

After we toured the many rooms of amazing artifacts and displays in the museum, we had lunch at the plaza and then toured many of the monuments. The Wesley Bolin Plaza has MANY more monuments than I ever remembered it had.  It is so amazing.  I can't wait to go back and take pictures of more of them.

My favorite part about our experience is seeing how much pride the people who made this museum must have in Arizona.  I am not sure that it's any secret that most days I would rather live anywhere than here.  Not really, but still... I definitely do not appreciate Arizona very much.  It was nice to see how much pride in our state is actually out there.

Today, we went to the funeral for George Kishiyama.  George and his family lived and ran a flower farm on Baseline Road in South Phoenix close to my family's flower farm.  My earliest memories of George were of him having coffee in the mornings with Grandma Nakamura.  Every morning, without fail, George would come and visit my little grandma and have coffee with her.   I think that is so sweet.  I remember each time I saw George, he was always very nice and entertaining.  George was the type of man that everyone liked.  As we were leaving the funeral home, Shawn and I talked about how nice it is to go to a memorial service where it can be said of the person being remembered that no one remembers him ever being angry, harsh or unkind.  It's downright amazing, actually.  I could dream that I could be remembered like that by anyone.  George was such a kind, thoughtful and generous man.  

THE MAIN REASON FOR MY POST:  A story demonstrating George's generosity was told that just has to be shared.  George was in the hospital and someone brought him his favorite green chile burro.  One of his nurses commented to him that it looked tasty.  George immediately began to cut a portion of his burro for her.  She stopped him and said, "George!  I can't take your food!"  To which George replied, "Green burros for everyone!" and sent someone in his family out to get burros for all of the nurses.  Green burros were provided for everyone at the funeral as well.  And they were delicious!  I thought this was such a sweet story and so totally adorable to incorporate that same generosity (and love of good Mexican food) at his memorial service.  

As I've thought about George's service, one thought keeps coming to me:  there weren't necessarily words of comfort spoken or preached, but there were lots of reminders of how George was such a good person.  The horrible saying of "nice guys finish last" keeps flashing into my mind... but only because I believe that George proved that saying to be completely false.  I always wish I had known all the wonderful things I learn at funerals about the person while they were still alive.  It was a good reminder to appreciate those around you for who they are while they're right there in front of you.  

I hate to preach, but I just have to say:  George was not technically a Christian.  He was Buddhist.  But I would say that Christians do not have the market cornered on being Christ-like.  George's generosity was instinctive.  He was kind far more often than cross.  He had a love for others that was felt immediately by looking at his happy face.  I am grateful to feel like I now know him and appreciate him a little better than I did before.