Raven Update

After a very encouraging few weeks, and an even more encouraging visit to Seattle Children's Hospital 2 weeks ago, we were feeling pretty good about Raven's longterm health. His symptoms had subsided and he seemed to be in perfect health; he was cheerful, more active than he'd been in months, social, sleeping well, eating well, gaining weight...we were thrilled!) The plan was to take him off the anti-inflammatory medication (which he gets 2x/day currently) and watch him closely in the following weeks for any returning symptoms. Just to be safe, Dr. Turner scheduled a return visit to the Pediatric Rheumatology department in August, as appointments are extremely hard to schedule and the wait is usually several months long. She was sure to warn us that while she's hopeful whatever Raven was experiencing has passed (his bloodwork looked nearly normal), there's always the possibility that it could return, in which case he would most likely be diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis and a long term treatment plan would be developed based on the severity of his specific symptoms (there are countless symptoms of auto-immune diseases, many of which are common to several different diseases).

Unfortunately, about 5 days ago his symptoms slowly began returning, and while they're not nearly as severe as they were at their worst, the fact that symptoms are returning before his meds have even been stopped is disheartening. He's begun waking up 3-5 times a night, clearly in pain and unable to be comforted, his activity levels have dropped, he's had rash on his arms and knees periodically, and the most apparent symptom occurred on Saturday, when he refused to walk for 15 minutes after waking up in the morning. He crawled out of his bedroom and banged his head on the wall in the hallway, when I put him on his feet his knees were shaking and he immediately lowered down to crawl again. My heart sank.

I'm beginning to notice specific behavior patterns that coincide with his physical symptoms and have been trying to pay close attention to them: social activity becomes limited (the first time Raven ever played with another child on the playground was just a few weeks ago when he was in great health, I'd never seen him instigate interaction with a child he didn't know). When he's having symptoms, he appears to be in a 'bubble', wandering around the outskirts of the play area, avoiding interaction and eye contact with other children, not climbing the equipment, etc. On worse days, like today, he is generally very irritable and becomes emotionally upset with very little prompting. He bangs his head on things, throws toys, and talks less.

The symptoms are still quite periodic at this point, but seem to be slowly building. I suppose this could mean his disease is overpowering his medication. I left a message with his rheumatologist this morning and am expecting a return call tomorrow. Raven's health has been such an emotional roller coaster, and I was so hopeful it had ended after 3 miserable months. I'm still hopeful, but we're feeling a bit more realistic.

Thankful for the healthy, happy moments, I just wish they'd last.

This and That.

Rough day with my sweet boy, who was in acute pain and couldn't walk for 30 minutes after his nap. I want to hold him and rub his back and tell him it will be alright, but he doesn't want to be touched or held when he's having joint pain; I have to let him lie there and cry until it subsides. He's still not eating well and hasn't had a bite of fruit, vegetables, or meat in weeks. His diet consists of milk, juice, and occasionally crackers or noodles. Not even his gummy vitamins (usually a favorite) can entice him. When he's not hurting or having a rough day, he's all smiles and climbing on the furniture like the monkey-boy we know and love. To say the least, I look forward to a complete diagnosis and treatment plan. Days like today wear me down.

On a happy note, we played in the sunshine (chilly but sunny!) this afternoon for a while and I played fetch with Juneau while the kids simultaneously ate snow and looked for bugs. What an odd limbo of seasons we're in...

Avalon had me in stitches tonight with her clever rantings. That girl is my little diamond. I love watching her friendship with Raven blossom more every day, I knew it would happen eventually, but I didn't know it would make my heart so full and happy.

Wesley is home from Portland and back to the grind. We had a date night at Gnosh last night to make the final decision about which city to move to come July. Decision made, delicious dinner eaten. We made a toast to our future and I got teary. So much change.

Raven's Visit to the Pediatric Rheumatologist

Just after his Echo Cardiogram, he held so still!
The iPad entertained him while we waited



We headed to Seattle Children's Hospital yesterday with Raven to see the Pediatric Rheumatologist there. Pediatric Rheumatologists are few and far between and it is extremely hard to get an appointment with one due to the shortage of specialists. We were grateful to have gotten Raven in on such short notice and although it didn't leave us more than a day to plan the trip, we're very glad to have gone. In short, Pediatric Rheumatologists study auto-immune diseases in children, which are very hard to pin down to an exact diagnosis. Many of the symptoms of auto-immune diseases are overlapping, so we weren't expecting an exact diagnosis, but were hoping for some guidance and at least a start to solving Raven's ongoing health problems, pain, and sleeplessness. At the end of the day, we had 4 possible diagnoses. 3 of them are temporary conditions which would begin to fade over the next month (Kawasaki Disease, Serum Sickness , and HSP (1 could effect his heart, so he had an echocardiogram done to rule out that particular disease). The 4th is Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. They can't be certain what's wrong with Raven just yet, but time will tell. He'll be seen again in Seattle in 1 month to determine if he's improving or declining, and we'll develop a treatment plan from there. For now, he'll be given a medication to help with his inflammation and pain and once it's built up in his system, hopefully he'll being sleeping a little better and experience less discomfort. JRA can potentially cause eye inflammation and effect vision, so when we return to Seattle next month he'll also be seen by the Pediatric Opthamologist for an eye exam.

The drive there and back was really difficult for Raven and by the time we got home he could barely walk and was in intense pain from being still for so long. Next time we'll be sure to make it a more positive experience for him; take a few days, go to the zoo and have a few adventures, and Avalon will come along so we can be together as family as we move toward a diagnosis and treatment for our sweet (and very strong!) little man.

Mister Raven

Brief update on Raven: In light of Raven's ongoing health issues and especially his recent swelling/bruising episode, we've been referred to to the Pediatric Rheumatology Department @ Shriner's Children's Hospital in Seattle. Doctors suspect that he may have an auto-immune disorder, possibly an arthritic condition. We expected to wait several weeks for the appointment, but I got a call this morning saying several of the doctors in the department looked over his medical files and want to see him very soon (I'm guessing to rule out the more serious possibilities). Our appointment is for this Thursday afternoon in Seattle. Raven had blood work done yesterday at Palouse Pediatrics as well as stool and urine analysis. He is such a trooper and tries really hard to be a happy little monkey, but it's clear that he just can't stay healthy, and he appears to be in almost constant pain. We look forward to getting some answers in Seattle so we can give our sweet boy the care he needs, and ultimately help him feel better.

My visit to Planned Parenthood

When I walked into Planned Parenthood last Thursday afternoon to have a simple procedure done, I was a little nervous. Although I'm supportive of the agency in theory, I've never had any personal experience to tell of and I'll admit that in spite of myself, I had some preconceived notions. Perhaps as a result of biased media projections, I tended to picture a young woman in a long coat, head down, hurrying down the sidewalk from her car in the rain to a dimly lit building, where she is strongly encouraged, coerced really, into having an abortion; most likely her 3rd, since this was her main form of birth control and lended itself to her promiscuous lifestyle nicely. The "doctor", who hasn't shaved in a few days, doesn't wear rubber gloves, and probably has very little actual medical training, is cold and demeaning. He explains little and works in near silence. Once the procedure is completed, the woman, womb emptied, signs one last form, forks over the money, and is practically pushed out the door.

Needless to say, I was not going to Planned Parenthood for an abortion. Although I support another woman's right to choose, I largely feel that I would not choose it for myself. I made an appointment to have a form of birth control removed whose side effects I found undesirable. After calling my OB/GYN and discovering it would cost me nearly $600 for the 5-minute procedure (and with little hope for a payment plan), I expressed my disbelief to a close friend who suggested I check with Planned Parenthood. She informed me that they offer all kinds of services to women at an affordable price. I looked into it and was relieved to find out they would charge only $180 for the identical procedure, and I scheduled an appointment. As I drove to their Pullman office I had to repeatedly push aside silly thoughts regarding the legitimacy of the agency. It will be fine. Chill out.

Once there, I, in my long coat, hurried from my car down the sidewalk to get out of the rain, and ducked inside the cramped, dimly lit reception area. I was immediately greeted by a pleasant, blonde-haired receptionist who gave me a clipboard with several forms attached for me to fill out, directed me to the seating area and said I would be helped in a few minutes. 3 minutes later a very tall medical assistant ushered me down the hallway to an exam room where we sat down, she then began going down a long list of questions regarding medical history and allergies. This was feeling very much like an ordinary doctor's office visit. She asked if I was interested in replacing my birth control or learning more about other forms of birth control offered, and would I like to be sent home with a bag of condoms and an ovulation prediction test. Quite thorough of her! A bit after she left, the nurse practitioner came in. Contrary to what I found myself expecting, she was warm, caring, and genuine, and instantly put me at ease; much like a kind Auntie who makes you feel as though you could tell them anything. With unwavering eye contact she asked if we planned to have more children and when I told her no, she was very adamant about us 'taking care of business' and being 'so very careful' so as to prevent an unexpected pregnancy, she said she understood how difficult it could make things for a young family going through school with limited income. She, too, offered me other forms of birth control and made sure I was certain about having my IUD removed, she also asked if I needed a PAP or any other procedures done at that time. Again, so thorough. We had a short discussion about IUD's and she told me she had placed 6 already that day - wow! After the procedure (and she did wear rubber gloves) she said goodbye and told me to settle things with the receptionist. Once back at the front desk, where I was ready to discuss what I could pay each month and hopefully come to an agreeable plan, I was told that due to our financial situation, my unemployment, and my husband's status as a University student, it would be appreciated if I would make a donation of whatever amount I was able, and the rest would be taken care of by Planned Parenthood. "Really?" I asked. "Yes, absolutely. Are you able to make a small donation today?" I was. Gladly.

My experience, in its entirety, was positive, professional, informative, kind, and caring. I was made to feel supported in my decision but was also given a great deal of helpful information regarding pregnancy prevention and women's reproductive health. Rather than some sort of hurried, sloppy, abortion-pushing organization, I saw a respectful one that is actively encouraging women to make informed, responsible decisions regardless of their age, race, or socioeconomic status.

Thank you, Planned Parenthood.

I wish I didn't have to share in order to heal, but I do.

I sat on my couch tonight and cried my eyes out. I cried partly because I'm tired and stressed, but mostly because I'm ashamed of myself. I express my opinions strongly and openly and normally this is completely fine with me; I know the people I hold dear will love me regardless of my political or religious views. They'll still love me, hopefully, because I try to temper my actions with love and bite my tongue when I feel like spewing hate. But a few days ago I got really angry and I expressed an opinion with piss and vinegar that was condescending and rude. I hurt some people I really care about and I feel awful. Tonight, I realized that my anger doesn't evaporate when I choose to choke it back, on the contrary, it goes somewhere deeper, out of sight for a while, and it grows.

I don't like to wallow. I'm not usually melodramatic. I try very hard to learn, grow, achieve new goals, and move forward - the opposite direction of my past. But as I learn to understand myself I want to also be understood by others, not in order to justify ugly behavior but to become familiar with some of my building blocks, the things that make me who I am as much as anything else in my life. So know this and learn 'me' as I do the same: my past hurt me deeply. It shaped much of my thought patterns, it effects my physical, mental and emotional health, my ability to function in my marriage, the way I mother. Oh, that I could wish it away with something as simple as 'choosing' to be free of it. It simply doesn't work that way. I was wronged and it was compounded by nearly every person in my life telling me, essentially, to get over it. Or worse, telling me it was my fault. Like telling the person whose home has been burgled they should have locked the front door.

I am extremely hostile toward organized religion, it's no secret that I don't plan to ever set foot in a church again, unless it's for a wedding or a funeral. I do possess love and I try endlessly to cultivate love and acceptance for those around me, regardless of what I do or don't agree with, but I am angry, too. I'm angry that at 24 years old and as a mother of 2 young children, my childhood sexual abuse left me with a constant battle for complete control of my life. This manifests itself in some ugly, oppressive ways. I have an eating disorder that rules me from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep. I battle my husband's expression of love toward me. I battle my own need to love myself by self loathing and punishment when I feel I haven't lived up to my own standard of perfection. I have unhealthy thought patterns that were so firmly ingrained in me that I fear I may never conquer some of them. I spent my life being told I needed to show others how Christ loved so that they, too, might want Him in their hearts and when I needed to be shown that same love I had the door slammed in my face and you'd better believe I'm angry about that.

Like I said before, none of this gives me a free pass to be nasty or unkind to anyone at all. I don't ever want that, I'm better than that and if there is one thing sexual abuse will never take from me, it is my dignity. Never will I stop fighting for what was taken from me, or stop trying to replace the pain with love. But I need my friends and my family to see me for what I am as well as what I am not - I'm not an angry, bitter woman, steeped in resentment toward those who hurt me, chained to a beast that won't let go. I am a woman with walls built up around myself, with claws I finally learned to sharpen, with a fragile psyche but a strong will. I fight for joy, for my pride, every day and I long to show others how proud I am to have at least some measure of love, not always enough for myself and clearly not enough for others, but I am trying.

Please love me even when I don't love the way I should, and please know how hard I try to step outside the shadow of my past that looms over my life and terrifies me.

The Strong Woman

"I'm tough, I'm ambitious, and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay." ~Madonna Ciccone


I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a strong woman. What does it look like, sound like, feel like? Does it differ from woman to woman?

Too often feminine stereotyping begins during pregnancy, at the very moment we find out the little life inside us is a female. We wonder what she'll look like. Will she be pretty? Accepted? Will she be talented? Successful? Find a good partner? Have children someday? Most of these questions could apply just as easily to a boy, but the difference comes when we begin to wonder the really taxing questions - will she excel in a society that still, even today, oppresses and objectifies women? Will she demand equality in her relationships? Will she value intelligence and education, despite social pressures to place unrealistic value on physical beauty? Will she be better than me (I, who admittedly typed 'will she be pretty' before 'will she value intelligence'...)?


I am fortunate to know some incredibly strong women. Some are college professors, some are stay-at-home-mothers, some juggle both career and family, and some are single and ambitiously pursuing their goals, and a few are elderly, with a life time of accomplishments, confidence, and perseverance behind them. Each of these women are different in nearly every way possible - age, religious preference, sexual identity, political views, etc., and yet each is a picture of profound womanly strength. What connects them? These were my thoughts.

Self respect - A strong woman doesn't undervalue herself. She recognizes her own abilities and the power she possesses to influence the world around her. She silences the nagging voice inside her head that tells her she lacks what it takes to attain what she desires. In acknowledging her own worth, whether quietly or loudly, she demands the respect of others and does not tolerate the demeaning of herself or other women. A pillar of a strong woman is self respect.


The ability to question and change - A few years ago, I realized the importance of questioning authority. Some would call this rebellion or wayward thinking, I call it bravery. Bravery doesn't necessarily equate to strength. I was terrified and fragile, far from anything resembling a strong woman, but I valued my own worth just enough to recognize that I was being smothered. I needed a way out and I was the only person who could find it for myself. The women I respect the most question and seek answers. They're open to altering their opinions or even making drastic lifestyle changes based on intuition, personal opinion, or what they feel is best for themselves. Possessing the ability to question and change leads to furthering knowledge, and a woman with knowledge is an empowered one.


Finding strength in weakness - Strength doesn't mean always knowing what to do, or what to expect. Nor does it require inhuman stoicism. After making the initial choice to leave the world I knew, I thought the worst was surely over. In my naivety, I failed to see past my immediate predicament (ie, finding an apartment, buying food, completing college classes, the majority of which I was on the verge of failing), and in a matter of days I found myself superbly overwhelmed and lost. Years later, I would come to realize that a strong woman doesn't always follow, but doesn't always lead, either. A strong woman can be lost. Perhaps when we are without direction, when everything we knew to be true has been snatched out from under us and we are left with a handful of lies, it's there, in our darkest hour that we find the most resilience, the strength we couldn't see but that somehow lifted us to our feet and nudged us forward. My grandmother lost her husband of nearly 52 years when I was 13. His cancer diagnosis and rapid decline in health led to a coma and an unexpected death barely 5 months later, it was devastating. My grandmother's sorrow was deep and palpable. In the time since my Papa's death she has shown a strength of spirit that is truly inspiring. At 85 years old she lives life fully and exuberantly, travels to the far corners of the world, cooks delicious, gourmet meals, and loves her family unconditionally. Her strength lives deep within her.


The ability to overcome social stereotyping - A strong woman does what she loves and loves what she does. She makes informed decisions and accepts responsibility for them. Whether it's deciding to pursue her PHD, which birth control method to use, or when the best time to have her 4th child is. I know stay-at-home-mothers that blossom in the role they've chosen for themselves, they find fulfillment in it and their heart is left wanting little more. I'll admit, sometimes I wish I was this woman. I also know women that crave the constant presence of a goal, a win, or a title, they're career driven and thrive the most this way. Then are the few super-women who bring the two together and conquer it like warriors. A very dear friend of mine, who I have such admiration and love for, has 4 children and is a University professor, she's an exquisite cook, a caring mother who nurtures book knowledge and self-sufficiency in her children, works harder than nearly anyone I know, is respected among her colleagues, keeps herself informed on current-events and economic matters, owns the life decisions she has made, makes no excuses, and does it all with grace and poise. I have learned so much from this woman, I'm certain she's influenced me more than she knows. All this said, a woman that possesses the ability to overcome social pressures and stereotyping and stand strong in her life decisions, riding out the miserable and savoring the good, owning it all; she stands above the rest and speaks volumes for the female sex. She is a true pioneer.


The ability to love - Ah, love. What are you? And how can you possibly be achieved? In a culture whose media, marketing, and peers barrage women from every angle with arrows of self-doubt, inadequacy, and incapability, how do we love? Maybe the better question is who do we love? We women have a history of giving ourselves up to our men, our children, or to a role we were 'called to fill'. We're expected to be lovely, soft, and kind, virtues exemplified in many religious circles that over time have bled out and become a large facet of secular expectations as well. Love becomes only something we do for others and to me it seems simply another way for a woman to sell herself short. Who, then, should we first love? If the answer sends me to hell, so be it: OURSELVES. Not a god, not a man or even a child. If we find love and acceptance for ourselves as women, every trait, every body part, every 'fault', doesn't it seem that we can then better love our partner, our children, our job? A decision fueled by the clean energy of love doesn't have the pollutant of a decision fueled by guilt or obligation. Something that sounds so selfish ends up being selfless. I can't make sacrifices for my family or my future if I am filled with resentment and anger toward my situation. If I love myself, my decisions will reflect my self-love and I will be happier and more fulfilled in those decisions, which, in turn, will allow me to commit myself to my life situation unhindered by chains of self loathing or regret. Love, I suppose, is where a strong woman begins.


Writing this may have been a desperate attempt to see myself as a strong woman. I long to lift the veil from my eyes and see myself the way my companion and husband does - strong, powerful, intelligent, and capable. Occasionally, I can step away and see a strong woman where I stood. This woman wears a locket around her neck containing nothing, this nothingness is a picture of her past and her future: her past, which holds no power over her, and her future, which is blank and vast, waiting to be written by her. Her present? Her present is shown in her steady stride, her hopeful eyes, and a choice made each day to love against all odds.