Hey! So it was my 38th birthday last weekend and we celebrated by taking a trip to nearby city. We dressed up and took BG to a “Teddy Bear Tea” at a fancy hotel, and it was cute but not as precious as I had hoped, probably because we had all been quite ill the week leading up to it. BG was on Prednisone, which made her nutty and she had lots of temper tantrums and meltdowns in her toddler fits of “roid rage” (which made me feel totally validated for my own outbursts while on Prednisone). But despite BG’s nuttiness, we all enjoyed ourselves at the tea and for the rest of the weekend’s activities, which included stumbling upon a winter festival, Christmas light displays, and culminated in a ride on The Polar Express train, which was really very charming.
While I planned all these activities in hopes of creating magical moments and memories for BG, these events/moments were just as much for my own fulfillment–it is my pleasure to be able to do all these things with BG. And I would have died to go to a teddy bear tea or the polar express train as a child–these weren’t options back in my day and even if they were options, we didn’t have the money (the tickets for these events are quite pricey and I’ve been planning this weekend since July). So yeah, I am living vicariously through my kid. I cannot wait to take her to The Nutcracker ballet this weekend (her third one) and I’m hoping she can behave herself! Last year was a bit hairy and she is WAY more difficult now, as she is nearly 3 years old and is becoming a bonafide “threenager”. But she loves ballet, so hooefully she’ll be captivated and remain in her seat for at least the first half.
So none of this has anything to do with the title, as my birthday weekend was all good and (mostly) drama-free. Except for we nearly missed the polar express train and had to run several city blocks to make it–but we made it! Crisis averted.
But here’s what:
It was a year ago that I started “flaring”. For my last birthday, I was bleeding, feeling like sh*t and desperately hoping things would clear up on their own, without any “extra” meds like Uceris or *gasp* Prednisone (the worst)…because I wanted to start TTC. I even filled a script for Crinone (progesterone)!
Bah ha ha ha ha ha!
Now here I am a year later, having been on Prednisone for nearly a year (I’m down to 10mg/day) . My colon is gone. I found out I have Crohn’s, not UC. I have a permanent ileostomy. And I can count on one hand how many times I’ve had sex this past year–definitely NOT pregnant!
It was the hardest year of my life–I don’t know how I managed to get through it. By the grace of God, I survived. I cared for my child. I cared for my sick husband.
I held it together.
Even when I had nothing left in me. Even when the pain and fatigue was insufferable.
I did everything in my power to get well, and when nothing worked I found the courage to have the surgery–even after Mr. MLACS’s sudden collapse (SCA).
I f*cking did it.
So yeah, it was THE worst year of my life but nobody knew that (except you guys) because I kept calm(ish) and carried on.
Thank God for BG, because she was my reason to get out of bed in the morning and do my best, no matter what.
Thank God for Mr. MLACS, because he was my rock.
I don’t know what the future holds but I learned something invaluable this past year…
I can handle anything.