The sun is up, I should walk the dogs.

The Plan:

Water the yard.
And feed the birds.
And floss my teeth.
And fill the yard waste bin with something I don't want.
And do some more desk clearing.
And do some laundry and hang the sheets out to dry.
And rake up the irritating pine cones on the side of the house.
And do some gardening on that side and maybe plant a tree or two. 
And decide what outing we can do today to get Mary-Elizabeth to do some more walking.
And call my mom and tell her about the newest news on Featherville Idaho.
And look on E-bay for Ice cream forks lest I ever return to the 1988's.
Contact my newly found Barnes Cousins and send them some pictures of the family and plan a mini-reunion.
Go on an archaeological dig and find more pictures in the basement and everywhere.
Talk to friends.
Figure out something for dinner.
Finish War and Peace
Finish the two quilt backs so I can start a new one. 


Reality:
Some watering,
Potatoes dug,
The yard waste filled a little bit,
The Russians are almost to Moscow
My cousin Jane came over.  She is moving to Seattle and lots to say.
Trip to Snohomish in search of a desk for Mary-E
A lovely lunch at a Thai Restaurant,
Lots of walking around a cute little town,
Child not exhausted and would like to go again.

Sometimes the things you end up doing are much better than the Plan.

 I think the Spaghetti Nebula just happened without a plan.

So What are you doing now...

When did you get admitted for the transplant?  January 16th

When was the transplant?    January 24^th

When did you leave the hospital March 20^th.

When was day 100?  May 4th

When did you go back to Children’s? May 16th

So now what?

GVH WARSSSSSS

Graft Vs. Host /New Cells are working –yeah.  They don’t recognize their new body-boo

This is a very weird space.  Here we sit.  The line is gone so things like swimming are possible.  (Only in the deep end, only when kids are not in the pool, only, only, only…..)

This is about the time everyone sort of thinks life should return to normal.  It feels like it should.  It feels like there are not big goals and accomplishments and on-line classes, returning to work, big trips, back to the real world.  I think both of us feel like that should be the case but there is this big cloud.  The GvH cloud that seems to be hovering.  It is like we are stuck between floors and there is no one on the other end of the line. They will be there soon, but not now.

Mid-August she completes her Prednisone taper.  We hold our breath, a collective breath holding.  Did it work?  Will the GVH come back?  Will the new cells have learned to love the new body? Will it be time to really see and start to taper off the tacrolimus?  Lots of questions and no way to know the answer. 

So the answer to “So what are you doing?”  is waiting, watching, preparing, staying close to home.  Wondering, hoping, dreaming, investigating, sorting, purging, quilting, jamming, gardening, even reading.  Half-way through.  

Dear Ellie Mae and Pearl Anne's Moms

I wonder if you remember filling out another piece of paper work after your darling girls were born.  I wonder if you ever think about your donation.  I often wonder you wonder about where the blood went.  It might be like donating blood.  The donor is thinking about a pin or a cookie.  The ultimate recipient is not on your mind.

As I sit here on Mother's Day marveling that I am still a Mom, I so want to thank you.  The only reason I am a Mom on May 13, 2012 is because of your gift.  Your forethought to give up the cells that lived in the cord between you and your daughter.  You nurtured and fed and loved your baby before she was born. When it was time to continue your journey outside of your body, you handed off that nurturing bunch of cell someone else.  Your nurturing and life giving continued.  I hope you find out someday what a difference this small act made.

I guess you have to think about it like a 2fer.  You gave birth to your daughters and passed that life on to mine. Those two little bags restored the life of my daughter.

I would love to send you a letter and some Fran's Chocolates and try someway to explain how grateful I am for the fact Mary-Elizabeth was here to bake shortbread and make a beautiful card.

 As you know the Mom club is a very special place. Membership is only granted to some lucky few.  Motherhood changes your life in a way that can not be explained.  Your life is never the same, it is hard, it is heartbreaking, it is simply painful.  But few would ever return to TBB (time before baby).  It takes years to realize the job is a life time job. A job that morphs every day.  Some times it keeping close, sometimes it is to stay away.  The job is to figure out when to do which.

While other's disagree, I have always felt that if your progeny are gone then you loose  your magic ring.   I don't think anyone would come ask for your gray hair back but it is inferred. I have faced lose not once but twice.  To have twice had to face the possibility has made me a bit hesitant to take anything for granted. It has made me more clingy and less concerned about somethings.  It has refocused me like a small child trying to incinerate a bug on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass.  But more than that, it has made so so grateful that the bug killers have such great giant magnifying equipment.

I can only hope and pray and beg the gods that your journey has been smooth.  That on this day where Mom's are brunched and coffeed and carded and flowered and ..... you are enjoying your lovely daughters as much as I have enjoyed and hope to enjoy mine. 

We are sort of related now and I hope to meet someday at a family reunion.

Love, Mary-Elizabeth Sierra Lanham's very grateful, thankful and blessed mom.