Oh sweet school how we’ve missed you! I can’t believe those words are coming from my own mouth. Me. The once upon a time super crunchy mom who wanted to homeschool my kids before I even had them. I had whimsical fantasies of what it would look like. And I had an invisible bubble around my babies for the first few years of my parenting journey. Probably five if I had to guess. You see- I wanted children for as long as I can remember. I had miscarriages back to back in the beginning. And then finally I had this precious baby that I didn’t let out of my sight for even 2 minutes. I never dreamed of putting her or any of her sisters on a school bus….

That was then. Let’s get back so end of summer 2023. If you recall from my last post- mom was in MAJOR burn out mode. I was working overtime day after day and so burned out. I am not proud of my last few weeks of parenting at the end of the summer. But we survived!

Here’s the crazy thing: our car broke down last week. Again. Insert heavy dramatic sigh. Another unplanned expense and inconvenience to our brand new schedule. So little Lavender only went to school ONE morning last week! Fortunately the other girls had 4 glorious days in all day school because they take the bus. So the crazy thing previously mentioned is that even with the stress of the car and only one morning to myself I feel like a new person! I can breathe! There’s an enormous weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders. I just feel so much more clear and focused now! It’s like I’m on vacation! I had 3 days with just Lavender under my feet. I was able to clean the house and cook meals and do hair and even relax some!

On their 1st day everyone gathered around me with big brown eyes and begged me to take them to the pond. Normally this question posed at 4:30 pm would be shot down. But I considered it and then heard myself agreeing to go! My reasoning was that I had reserves left! I hadn’t been a referee all day and listening to bickering and cleaning ridiculous messes I had no part in. I was able to think clearly and logically and say “yes!” Perhaps it will become a new back to school tradition for us!

This new schedule with Lavender home with me reminds me of a small pocket of time I had when I was pregnant with the twins and Lorelei was in kindergarten. Little Sky was with me all day. Just us girls. We had all kinds of fun together where I could really get involved with being a quality mom. Not just autopilot burn out mom. But like teaching her things and cooking together and talking walks after the bus came…

So here we are with a second chance at the single child for a few hours routine! Lavender and I have gone for walks, picked tomatoes from the garden and roasted them for pizza sauce, had silly dance parties, baked banana bread, played with play doh… I feel like I’m able to be the mom I know I once was and always have wanted to be.

And I haven’t even had a chance to fully appreciate “Just Darcie” time. I packed in a lot the first few weeks of school, my mom visited, dental appointments, friends visiting etc. But soon I will have these little pockets of time I have been looking forward to for so so long. Literally years. I have a mom bucket list I’ve been making. I actually think I might fill a jar with strips of paper that have all my ideas on them and randomly draw an activity as the days come. These activities include walking on the beach and looking for sea glass, joining a gym, drinking coffee and listening to podcasts, taking a nap, doing hair, cleaning the house with no interruptions and loud music, doing laundry and watching garbage tv shows (I’m looking at you 90 Day Fiancé!), cooking dinner early in the day, purging the house of clutter, painting, having breakfast dates with friends, grocery shopping alone… you get the idea! For the better part of the last 11 years and 100% of the last 6 years I’ve been blessed with my children all day every day. But with that comes having to beg, borrow and steal an hour here and there every other week or so. But now I’m going to have 2 hours a day. It’s absolutely mind blowing.

And the best part? They’re all excited to go to school! The bus is a big hit for the kindergartners here! They all are enjoying their independence and new routines. I’m just thrilled that all the pieces fell into place!! I can’t wait to see what this fall brings!

Sumer break is coming to an end. And it’s bringing so many conflicting emotions Feelings I know I’m not alone feeling. But feelings causing me angst regardless. I remember being so excited when the bus dropped the girls off on that last day of school. I met them at the bus stop dancing with excitement for them. Clapping and cheering. We all shared so much excitement for a summer of fun….. we had a big list.

But the reality is 5 kids is a lot. It’s a lot of hair to brush. It’s a lot of bandaids. It’s a lot of money to feed them. It’s a lot of nonstop talking. It’s a lot of cleaning. It’s a lot of fighting. It’s a lot of expectations. It’s a lot of disappointments. It’s a lot of food (omg the food!!). It’s a lot of planning. It’s a lot of smooshed people in the family van. It’s a lot of teeth to brush. It’s a lot of nails to cut. Most of this falls on me. Ron works normal days and comes home for their last hour or two. I don’t have in-laws. My family is 3+ hours away. It’s me all day every day. It’s exhausting.

Each day starts with the inevitable “what are we doing today?” Several years and several kids ago I decided to be a fun mom. A cool, crafty, creative, interactive mom. During Covid when I homeschooled my kids I started the day with a white board that said something like “Good morning girls! Today is Tuesday! Today we’re going to the library, baking cookies, making cards for Uncle Whit and making tacos!”. Now they are used to everyday being something fun! I somewhat regret setting the precedent. But I want to paint a whimsical childhood for them.

But then reality slaps me in the face. Reality can ugly and hard. The messes that occur with 5 children (plus a few friends inevitable visiting) is astounding. It’s absolutely mind blowing. It’s like brushing your teeth while eating Oreos. It’s a non stop job just cleaning up behind them. And speaking of Oreos- the food. Someone is always hungry. And when one has a snack the others want a snack. It’s a chain reaction… All. Day. Long. And summertime means popsicle time. They LOVE popsicles. Something I’ve been doing for years (since they 1st discovered the ice cream truck)- I buy several kinds of popsicles and keep my freezer loaded. When they’re playing outside I will blast whimsical ice cream truck music on the backyard speaker and come out and deliver cold treats like I’m the ice cream truck rolling through the backyard!

We’re now coming up on the end of summer break. Countdown is on. Big girls go back in 13 days. Little girls start in 17 days. For 11.5 years I’ve been home with my girls. I’m not complaining. It’s what I always dreamed of. I did work out of the house part time for the 1st 5 years. When I was pregnant with the twins I had to stop. I’ve been home every day all day since then. It’s been a long season. For a long, long, long time I’ve been dreaming of the time when the twins could go to kindergarten and Lavender could start preschool so I could have a glimmer of a break. It’s finally coming in 17 days. I have a list. A long list of extravagant things I can’t wait to do. I’ll have 2.5 hours 4 days a week ALL TO MYSELF!!!!!!! I’m going to go to the beach, go grocery shopping alone, go to the gym, do clients without interruptions, clean the house, sleep!!! So many things. I’m so close. And yet I seriously feel like I can’t get through these last couple weeks. Today was the day I felt like a dry twig ready to snap. I’ve been worn down and I’m so tired now. So tired of the conflict, the constantly repeating myself 12,000 times a day, being everyone’s source of comfort and entertainment, putting out fight after fight, cleaning absurd messes you can’t even begin to imagine, not even remembering to take my medications daily because I’m too busy putting out fires around me. So today I’m desperate for a break. Even if I could run an errand with “only” 3 kids it would be a welcomed break. I’m so envious of my friends and my sister who have family and extended family nearby. I would do just about anything to have help on the extra hard days. I am truly grateful to have a supportive and loving husband. I know I am blessed with having a partner!

Anyways here’s where all the feelings we can all relate to come in. It’s guilt. I’m nearly in tears today wishing school would start so I can have a break and breathe. And then I looked at my calendar. Every day between now and school is filled up. I didn’t take them to the zoo like I’d planned. We didn’t have a yard sale like we’d planned. We hardly had any lemonade stands. Definitely didn’t have enough beach days. We still haven’t gone miniature golfing. We wanted to go to grandma and grandpa’s house once more. We didn’t have one bonfire this summer. Not one.

The summer passed so quickly and soon I’ll be packing them up for school. I’ll cry. I’ll miss them. I’ll wish I’d appreciated the moments I had with them. I’ll feel like a monster for wishing the school bus to come sooner.

Here’s the other guilt. The school bus passes cost $200 per kid which we don’t have right now. All the girls need new shoes, clothes, backpacks etc. Lorelei is going into 5th grade and desperately wants to go shopping for new school clothes. But the cost of living is so high these days. We’re scrambling for school bus pass money, never mind new clothes. More guilt. Each day she asks me when we’re going shopping. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. What do I do?? Several times this summer I’ve heard myself telling the girls “just because you want something doesn’t mean you get to have it”. It’s a good life lesson! But it’s hard also. It makes me sad.

But as I sit here and reflect I’m telling myself to stop feeling guilty for what I’ve not given them. But instead reflect on what I have given them. I’ve been home with them every day to provide for them. They’ve all been given the opportunity to take classes this summer. Swimming, gymnastics and dance. Plus a week of camp at the fire department for Lorelei and Sky. We’ve had a family trip to Ptown for my birthday. Sky had her very 1st birthday party of her very own. Lorelei got to go to an Abba concert with me. We’ve been to the beach many days and seen the ice cream truck, too! We found a new hobby- watching the planes at the airfield. We went to a bouncy house and out for ice cream. We went strawberry picking AND blueberry picking. We took several small trips to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Our annual tradition of making tie dye teeshirts, growing a garden, and swimming still happened! We went to the library, the mall, festivals, parades, birthday parties…

Today has been extra challenging. It rained most of the day. Daddy is away tonight with the car. So we’ve been stuck home inside all day. All day I’ve been festering all these emotions. Ups and down. Times when I can’t snuggle them enough and times when I’m ready to hand in my letter of resignation and quit this mom job. It’s a hard job. It’s a job I chose. It’s a job I’d never want to truly give up. But just because I asked for it and just because I love it, doesn’t mean it’s not hard.

As I finish writing this I have Pearl snuggled on me looking for more attention. This summer has been so joyful but so exhausting also. I have so much love, guilt, regret, pride… but through it all I have core memories being made. I know someday I’ll look back on this blogpost and long for these days of the girls being small. Something I’ve learned on my parenting journey: each season is hard for its own reasons. Each season gets easier as they get older and we grow as parents but new challenges always pop up. My goal as a mother is to appreciate the season I’m in, own it and take the challenges in stride. And cherish the good moments and forget the bad.

This is a very vulnerable post from me. And way overdue! Life has been crazy (crazier than usual) for me recently. I decided to finally sit down and share some news.

This post is vulnerable because it’s about me and only me. And it’s about my struggles with my weight. Which I’ve never been comfortable talking about.

So. Deep breath…..

I’ve been overweight pretty much my entire life. I remember being in 4th grade and wanting to wear jeans like the other kids. That’s probably my 1st memory of being different and disappointed in how I was different. As I became a teen I was more self conscious. Looking back I was so beautiful then and wish I’d embraced who I was then. Then in my early 20’s I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and had my entire thyroid removed. During my low iodine diet (in which I was hardly able to eat anything ) to prepare for radiation I gained 20 lbs. TWENTY POUNDS. And I was hardly eating. It went down hill from there. It’s always been a struggle for me. When I met Ron I was doing Zumba 3-4 times a week, I went to the gym regularly and I was on an off weight watchers. I literally never lost any substantial weight. But I loved being active! After about 2-3 years of marriage I remember Ron saying to me that he had seen what and how much I ate day after day and he couldn’t figure out how I wasn’t a toothpick.

When I was pregnant with Lorelei I hardly gained any weight. It was weird. Things shifted around my body. I was very health conscious. I joke that I wouldn’t eat an orange if it wasn’t organic because I wanted nothing but the best for my precious baby.

Pregnancy after pregnancy I found that I didn’t seem to gain weight when I was pregnant. With the twins I only gained 11 lbs. with Lavender I actually lost weight. I assume that when my body was pregnant my metabolism jumped into a new speed or something??

As the years have gone on I’ve embraced who I am. I truly love myself. I’m self conscious always. But I still love who I am. But I never feel that my body reflects who I am inside. It’s a really weird place to be in. I feel so vibrant and healthy and happy inside. But I feel so uncomfortable in my body. I don’t feel beautiful anymore. But more importantly I feel like I can’t do all the things I want to do with my kids. And I miss Zumba.

So last summer when I was talking to my endocrinologist about my weight struggles she recommended weight loss surgery. I quickly shot her down because I’ve always assumed weight loss surgery was for people with portion control issues. She explained to me that it’s more than that. It’s a chance to have a metabolism reboot. I realize I was being judgmental and uneducated and now I feel badly. She suggested a weight loss medication as an alternative to surgery. I didn’t even realize they prescribed weight loss medication to be honest. I looked into it. $1200 a month. Nope. Not doing that! Thanks though! Ha! (Who has that kind of extra money for yet another medication??)

It took me a long time of being alone with my own thoughts. I didn’t even talk to Ron about it for a while. But I made an appointment with the weight loss clinic and scheduled a consultation with a surgeon. They immediately approved me and started me on their program. It’s been about 6 months. I’ve gone to appointment after appointment after appointment. I’ve been checked upside down and backwards. I’ve taken classes and started changing my diet to prepare for surgery.

I’ve only shared this with a few friends. I was hesitant to tell people because I still feel like it’s so personal. But my surgery will be next month. Im gearing up for an enormous lifestyle change. So I figured it was finally time to share my news.

I have so many mixed feelings. I’m so excited!! I’m scared! I hate surgery. (To be fair all my surgeries have been pretty major.) I’m worried about not having help when I recover. I’m proud of myself for taking the steps and facing what’s haunted me my entire life. I’m hopeful that I’ll be a good role model for my girls as they grow into their own bodies. I’m worried I’ll have regrets and I’ll miss the things I’ve always fallen back on that have put me where I am now. Pizza making nights, taking the girls out for ice cream, baking etc. But I so badly just want to feel comfortable and free.

I’m still taking my last steps in the program. Each day I am trying something new to adjust to my future. I’m no longer drinking coffee. Yes you read that correctly. This coffee lovin’ mama is OFF coffee. Not even decaf. I’m drinking so much water. I’m eating more protein than I’ve ever eaten. I don’t drink water with meals anymore. I definitely have a lot to learn. But I’m making progress!

For almost 11 years I’ve been a stay at home mom with 1-5 kids home every day all day with me and going to the gym just isn’t a reality for me anymore. We don’t have family to help. It’s just us and we have long days with no break. But next September my twins will be in kindergarten!! And Lavender will be in preschool a couple hours a week. And I will finally finally finally have some time just for Darcie. I can go to the gym. Or a walk on the beach. Or even just walk the aisles of Target! I’m so excited about where I’ll be a year from now.

So now the bandaid is ripped off and the world knows. I’m a bariatric patient.

Gosh it’s been a whirlwind fall! School started in September like usual. But it’s been non stop crazytown ever since. The twins started preschool unexpectedly a few weeks after the big girls. They go for a couple hours a day, 3 days a week. The same week they started school we had an evaluation with Pearl and learned that she has sensory processing disorder (SPD). It nailed so many issues on the head. But it’s be a lot to navigate her needs these days on top of keeping everyone alive like normal.

Pearl seeks sensory inputs in proprioceptive, vestibular and tactile areas. I myself am a bit of a sensory avoider. So it’s a weird match for us. She does all the things that I cringe at thinking about. Spinning on a swing? She’s all about it. I would throw up. Jumping and crashing? She’s craving it and wants to do it over and over and over. I’d rather walk barefoot in the snow than jump and crash like her. She loves messy play. I’m talking smearing things all over her body and immersing herself in all the gross things. I don’t even like getting my hands wet. (Don’t worry. I still wash my hands. But anything beyond a quick hand wash makes me cringe)

We’ve notice big changes. I’m with her every day. And I’ve learned to see when she’s about to have a melt down and I’m able to change directions and help her avoid them. But that of course comes at a cost. There’s only 1 of me and 5 of them. If I give her all of my attention in those moments I’m basically turning my back on the other 4. There’s inevitably always some kind of repercussions when that happens. So it’s one step forward and 4 steps back. Retracting and fixing what happens in these moments reminds me of my struggles with ADHD. My brain swirls and gets so overwhelmed and almost debilitating. So I work so hard to avoid this whole scene.

Some days I have the kitchen spotless when I wake up (from staying up late the night before of course), I do some kind of epic adventure or project with the girls, I get a nice dinner made and the laundry gets done. Some days I wake up to dishes backed up which immediately causes me anxiety and sets the tone for the day. The kids are fighting and everything seems to be going wrong. I feel like I want to give up by 8:30 am. I spend the whole day on survival mode and count down the hours till everyone is in bed and I can breathe again. I hate those days. I hate who I become on those days. I know the girls hate those days. I wish I knew the formula to a successful and good day daily. But I suppose that would get boring after a while. Something worth noting though. The days I seem to have everything pulled together… there’s always a ball that’s been dropped. Usually it’s my own self care.

Yesterday I planned a fun activity for Pearl and Juniper. I chose it because it’s perfect for Pearl’s tactile and proprioceptive needs. But they both enjoyed it! We made taste safe “hot coco play dough cookies”.

This was a simple combination of instant chocolate pudding (this was the good Godiva kind because I gave up sugar recently and figured we’d just use it up!), water and a ton of corn starch. But omg was it sticky and messy to make!!!

When the dough *finally* came together I gave them each a ball of delicious cocoa scented dough and a rolling pin. The rolling was a good activity for Pearl’s sensory needs. Then the fun part. I added tiny marshmallows to each girl’s dough to roll in! Of course they ate some. But it was fun! Ig reminded me of the slime with the added glitters and sequins. But our dough was so nostalgic and whimsical!

After we rolled the marshmallows in we made logs of dough and each girl cut rounds of dough that looked like cookies! We pretended to bake them and put them on plates!

This experience was a hit for the ladybugs. I’ll definitely do it again! But next time I need to be more prepared to handle the sticky mess! I swear I was scrubbing chocolate dough from my own hands and arms for hours!

This day was a good example of having everything seemingly together. But the truth is- the ball that was dropped was me! I didn’t have time to do anything for myself. I was exhausted and grouchy by evening. And as it turns out- Lavender was the only one of the ladybug to eat the dinner I worked a hard on! Oh well. Each day is a new day and brings new challenges and hurdles and areas to grow and things to learn.

⚠️Warning ⚠️ This post contains graphic material (not photos).

In honor of this week being my 9 year anniversary of “4 lobe day”- a funny phrase my husband came up with to make light of an otherwise bleak situation – I’ve decided to share my story. This journey has been a pivotal and monumental part of my life. The lowest and worst time in my life. A time that has left me with ptsd and anxiety. But a time that I’ve grown from and gained strength and prospective from.

It was Christmas 2011. After several miscarriages in was *finally* pregnant. I was 20 weeks and we’d just found out we were having a girl. We were thrilled! Life was good!! After the holiday I got a cold that worked it’s way to my chest as it always did. I had bronchitis at least once a year as far back as I can remember. This year was no different. Except that I was pregnant. I coughed and coughed and coughed. For weeks on end. After 9 weeks of coughing I saw a dr who told me the virus everyone had was lasting for ages. I was in agony. The weeks crept on. More coughing. It was starting to affect my breathing. I saw a pulmonologist who told me I had pregnancy induced asthma. They gave me some inhalers. Nothing helped. The months carried on. Winter turned to spring. Our baby would be arriving soon and I was struggling to breathe. Everyone told me the baby was putting pressure on me, I had asthma, etc. My intuition was telling me something was wrong. I was nearing 20 weeks of coughing and struggling to breathe. I was now 39 weeks pregnant. My brother was graduating for college. We tempted fate and went off Cape to see him graduate.

My brother was able to secure me a handicap parking spot because I was unable to walk more than a few feet without a coughing fit. On our way home we stopped at the bridge for the bathroom. On my way out of the car was the 1st time I coughed up blood. My veins literally went cold. I remembered Nicole Kidman in moulin rouge when she was coughing blood and dying. I KNEW this wasn’t normal. I was paralyzed by fear. I was afraid to tell my family or husband. I was so scared. But I called my dr a few days later. I scheduled another appointment with my pulmonologist. He told me that I had so much extra blood from being pregnant and had been coughing so long he wasn’t surprised. It happened again during the night a few days later. And again. And again. It was getting worse. It was something from a horror movie. So graphic and horrific. I started having flashbacks and didn’t want to be in my bedroom/bathroom/parking lots etc where it happened. When I was about 41 weeks pregnant I tried to walk at snail speed into the grocery store and ended up coughing up a puddle of blood in the parking lot. I was so scared and embarrassed…. All the emotions.

Somehow I survived 42 weeks of pregnancy. I was induced. But I had my unmedicated hypnobirth I’d planned. I was so proud of myself. I was so blown away by the intensity of it all. But mostly I was SO in love. My cough lingered but the blood stopped. I focused all my energy on my sweet new baby girl. The months went on. I continued to cough and have trouble breathing. I went back to the pulmonologist again and this time he said I couldn’t take the inhaler I needed until I stopped breast feeding. I always had anxiety following me around like a shadow. My inside voice kept telling me something was wrong. So I found a new dr for a second opinion. My anxiety told me the blood would be back. I was pretty sure I was going to die and not see my daughter grow up. The Sumer came and went and I went through the motions but I was numb. Then in October it happened. My fear. I was home alone with my baby who was now 4 months old and I started coughing up blood again. My mother rushed over (they still lived near us then) to help me and my dad stayed on the phone with me to calm my nerves.

I went to the new pulmonologist. He sent me for tests. He suggested maybe I had lupus or RA attacking my lungs. But the tests came back clear. So he sent me for a CT scan. He said they would only call me back if they saw something….. they called me. They said I had a very bad case of pneumonia! They asked if I’d like to be hospitalized. I declined because I couid by stand the thought of being away from my girl. They sent me home with a Z pack and a follow up appointment with the dr in the morning! I was thrilled!!! Finally answers! And all I had to do was take some antibiotics! Life was looking up again.

Until the next morning when I walked into his office again. He told me it wasn’t actually pneumonia. The fluid they saw filling my lungs was blood. And they had no answers why. My heart sank. He scheduled me for a bronchoscopy. Basically they sedate you and stick a camera down your throat into your lungs and look around. I was awake. I was watching the clock. It took less than 5 mins and he turned the lights back on and told me I had a tumor blocking the airway to 2/3 of my right lung.

My world stopped. I’d already had cancer. I’d paid my dues. I had just brought life into this world. My life was just beginning! How could this be? I had so many questions. But I was drugged up. He told me I’d need surgery ASAP and that he didn’t know who would be able to do the procedure. He called me later that evening to talk to me and Ron together to explain what he knew to me. He was going to meet with the team of drs in Boston who did my cancer surgeries to rule out that it was a spread of the cancer I’d had a few years back. And then he’d find a surgeon who could work with me.

Days went by and finally some answers trickled in. It was NOT cancer. It was a carcinoid tumor. Which grows very slowly with increased hormones. It had likely been with me most of- if not all my life. But had grown in size when I had all those pregnancy hormones. He found a surgeon in Boston willing to work with me.

My dad came to Boston with me for my consultation. He had to push me in a wheelchair because I could hardly walk anymore. My surgeon Dr Bueno walked in and introduced himself as the dr who wrote the book they teach at Harvard. He’s brilliant. Horrible bedside manners. But brilliant. He told me even though he teaches this procedure he only does it “maaaaybe once a month” as it’s very rare and complicated. He explained the surgery to us. There is no safe way to remove my tumor laparoscopically. It would involve my chest being cut front to back (12 inches if you’re curious), breaking my ribs, removing the middle lobe of my right lung and then reattaching the top and bottom lobes. He told my dad it was like a break job and he had only once chance to get it right…. (“Or else” was implied). He said the survival rate was fairly good. But not guaranteed. And the recovery would be very long. We digested this news and scheduled the surgery for a couple days later. (He was coming in on his day off to get me seen ASAP)

The days following I was devastated. I was mournful. I was sobbing day and night. I couldn’t stand to be away from my girl more than a few mins. How could I just leave her? What if I died during surgery? The emotional pain was overwhelming. My mom and Ron decided to both accompany me to the hospital. Lorelei would stay with my dad and my college aged sister indefinitely. I had to get a healthcare proxy lined up and make DNR decisions.

The morning of my operation I breastfed her one last time ever. And then handed her over to my sister and walked out the door and fell apart at the seams.

At the hospital I was given an epidural. Which was ironic since I’d just given birth without one only a few months prior. But they kept missing. They tried several times. I was crying out loud behind the curtain my husband tells me. They give the epidural to limit some of the post-op pain. (Lies. It didn’t do a thing)

The surgery was I think 9 hours. Thank goodness it was successful. (Obviously) But I woke up in so much pain. I reminded myself of Bella Swan in Twilight when she changed. I couldn’t breathe. I was in agonizing pain. Every tiny breath hurt. I was tied up to so many monitors and cords. I remember being absolutely parched. All I wanted was a sip of water. But when you have lung surgery they restrict your water intake because excess fluid settles in the lungs! I never knew this! So no. No water for me. For an entire day all I was allowed was to suck water out of a sponge on a stick. (Like an inedible lollypop) It was torture. But the pain. I think I was hallucinating from the pain. Nothing can compare. Not even childbirth. I had two 1 inch tubes sticking out of my rib cage. One to pump oxygen in and one to siphon blood out. So creepy. Once my catheter was out they made me get up to use the bathroom. They wanted me to get up and walk almost immediately. (When I say “walk” I mean shuffle with a walker -.5 mph to the bathroom) They need lung patients to keep moving so they don’t develop pneumonia during recovery. Once I was up I realized I wasn’t going to be laying down again. Forever probably. . I wasn’t able to use any of my core muscles since they’d all been cut open. So I had Ron sleep in my hospital bed and I slept in the hospital recliner from then on. I wouldn’t sleep in a bed again for at least 4 months following my return home.

I was on so so many pain pills. Not even an option (I didn’t take anything after my c-sections except Advil). They had me on copious amounts of every pain pill possible around the clock every couple hours. The day we got discharged they weren’t able to give me my pulls to take. I had to get a script for my pills. Then I had to go to the pharmacy for them. We had to drive through downtown Boston in heavy traffic when my meds were almost worn off to go to CVS. Then I had to go IN because they were narcotics. It was a nightmare. My husband says it was the most stressful moment of his life. (I was writhing in pain at every tiny bump or turn)

When we returned “home” we actually went to my parents house. We moved in with them for about 4 months while I recovered. I wasn’t able to pick up Lorelei for 6 weeks. But they put her on my lap for a few mins when they could. I had the VNA come daily to check on me. I was so sick from the meds. I couldn’t keep anything down. On my 2nd day home (⚠️ don’t read if you’re squeamish) a piece of lung tissue came out when I threw up. I didn’t see. But my dad did. He didn’t tell me. But he sent a photo to my surgeon. They called him late that evening when they got the email and told him to rush me to the ER (in Boston!). I was shattered when I found out. Off my mom and I went for an awful ER overnight.

I recovered very slowly. I wasn’t able to wear a bra for probably 6 months because my incision was right on my bra line. The pain became somewhat manageable after a month or so. Everything was new and hard. Becoming a mom again was a huge hurdle. To be able to go home and take her out to the grocery store and be “normal” took several months.

It’s been 9 years this week. I haven’t had bronchitis since. Now when I do get sick it comes abs goes quickly like most people. I have a “gimpy” lung now. It’s tiny on my right side. But I can breathe again. I’ve had countless CT scans and chest X-rays over the years and everything is clear. I feel lucky to have come out the other side. I always look for the silver linings of course. I know it’s made me stronger. But I still feel so many emotions. I feel robbed of my 1st year as a mom. I feel bitter and resentful. I feel sad and emotional. I still feel physical pain from time to time. I also feel thankful that it was *me* going through this and not my baby. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that pain.

Today I have smaller lungs. And so much anxiety. But my girl doesn’t remember the 9 days apart. She doesn’t remember not being breastfed anymore. I now have 5 baby girls to love on. And my bond with Lorelei is even stronger. If you’ve read this far thank you! Im writing this post as an exercise for therapy. To share and release. So maybe this year on November 6th I won’t feel overwhelmed with emotions like I usually do. May peace be with you and may you always have lungs full of clean air!! ☮️

It’s been about 2 weeks since the big girls started school. We’re getting into our new routine. It’s different. It’s good. Actually it’s really good. We have hard days. We have good days. I’ve changed gears. They’ve changed gears. With just the littles home I have to do a lot more planning with activities and outings.

We started doing a zoom class that’s a kids cooking class taught by puppets! The girls had such a blast! They talked about the puppets all week!!

I don’t typically buy “colored” foods if I can help it. I LOVE colors. But in food… no thanks. I bought fruit loops (froot loops?) recently for some projects though. We’ve had more fun with that box of cereal!!! This week I drew them all a squid character with rainbow tentacles they had to match fruit loops to.

The girls love to paint. Especially juniper. This week I gave them each a small box and let them paint them. We pretended they were treasure boxes. They each painted one for a big sister! It was so sweet!

I think I’ve mentioned before. We do lots of baths and showers here. After the painting they went to the tub for their next phase. I made home made “scratchy slime” for them to play with! It kept them in the tub a bit longer so I could scramble around and a low my next project (or let’s be honest- drink coffee).

I added olive oil so it would make their skin soft when they rubbed it all over. It worked! They were silky smooth and soft after their baths!! Buuuuuut they looked like a couple greasy Italians after! I wasn’t thinking about what adding olive oil to the bath would do to their just washed hair!!! 😆

Bubble bath + scratchy slime + a twin sister to play with = life

This week we also went to the play ground A LOT. Lavender had a drs visit the other day. I told the twins we’d go to the playground after since they had to tag along. Of course when we came out it looked very stormy. But I’d promised. And you just can’t take back a promise to a 3 year old about the playground. So we crossed our fingers and went anyways. There was only a dad and son there. We basically had the whole place to ourselves! Plus I noticed a DMB tattoo on the dad. So naturally I had to talk Dave with him!!

With the summer came a big change in our house. The girls don’t nap any longer. It was a sad realization when I said goodbye to our friend “nap time”. A piece of my soul cried. So these days in the afternoons we snuggle up and watch Cocomelon and they relax. Usually I make a 2nd cup of coffee and get dinner started. Or try. There’s usually 57 messes to clean before I can start. Every day is 1 step forward and 8 steps back.

I love fall. So much. I know. I’m basic. I don’t even care. I love it. And my days are often a blur and I don’t get much down time to enjoy the moments. So one of my favorite fall things to do is simmer apples and spices in the afternoons while I cook dinner and listen to music. Sometimes I use cranberries or oranges also. But my sister brought a bag of tiny apples from her orchard. So I simmered a bunch of them with mulling spices and it made the house smell soooo good and cozy!!! Such a mood booster! Try it!! (Especially paired with Josh Groban’s Christmas album n November with the cranberries and oranges!!!)

I try to peck away at laundry when they watch tv and dinner cooks. Today I had a couple helpers. This one made herself nice and cozy in my basket! Then had t the nerve to tell me I was putting too much laundry on her!

The twins needs lots of activities and ways to explore. I love making them sensory tables. This week I made a few bottles of water beads. We set up the water table with bubbles and water beads and a bottle of shaving foam! I let them get naked and go to town playing with all the textures!!! They loved it! Naturally it lead to another bath! lol

I was having a particularly hard day the other day. Some days I’m running in circles so much that I literally don’t have time to fix my messy mom bun never mind make myself put together. There was a time when I spent time every day doing my hair and makeup nice. I love that stuff!! But I so don’t have the time these days. I’m usually wearing a tee shirt with questionable fluid from my kids on it and messy hair. This day was no exception. I felt like such a mess. Ron came home from the store with some gerbera daisies for me and said “for my pretty wife”. I just about cried. I felt 10,000 times opposite of being “pretty” that day. These little insignificant moments are what pull me through some days.

Today we finally got little miss Pearl into occupational therapy! She was such a great kiddo today. She really did a good job! I’m happy to have spent some one on one time with her! And happy to be getting some answers and feedback!!

After OT we really needed some Indian summer sunshine and fresh air!!! We played in the “play zone” (our fenced in play area/swing set. I decided to go down to the garden as pull up the dead plants and start to get my garden beds ready for fall. I took this opportunity to get the girls down in the garden with me to get dirty! We made mud pies! And scooped and sprayed and smeared. All the good stuff!!! Even Lavender got in on the action!!! I was sad to see our garden go. But the seasons change. We’ll have an even bigger more epic garden next year I’m sure!!

Have I mentioned I have some ADD struggles? On top of my usual mom struggles. So this blog has now taken me the better part of 4 or 5 days to complete! Typical Darcie fashion. I could delete it all and start fresh. But why? This blog truly reflects and ebb and tide of our lives. Some days I kill it as a mom and a human. And some days I’m not sure how to get out of bed. The good news is that tomorrow is always a new day!