It's In His Eyes

...and he threw up at dinner.

I am freaking out. I must have jinxed us in the last post. He's the only one out of all of us who has thrown up. Oatmeal. His favorite.

If he throws up one more time, we're off to the hospital.

I just want to close my eyes, cover my ears, and scream, "lalalalalala!" I hate that this is happening again.

Fuckity Fuck Fuck.

If you would, pray with all you've got that I am wrong about this. Just let me be wrong.

I want to be wrong so badly.

It Could Be Worse

In many ways, I am doing better. The dreams have stopped. I am sleeping (when I am not buried in sick children). All the activity of a new school year is agreeing with me I guess.

On the day of the last ultrasound, after I had spoken to the RE about what he wanted me to do, I had to meet with a nurse to get prescriptions, etc. While with her, she made the off handed comment that she was glad that if this was going to happen, it happened when it did because it would be "so much worse" later. I just accepted what she said without comment then. Shock and heartbreak will do that to you. Now it makes me upset to think about her words. How could she possibly know what would be worse to me? Why couldn't she understand that this was worse no matter when it happened?

Then, a colleague recently told me that she was so glad that things are going well, because it could be so much worse. The whole conversation left a bad taste in my mouth. Partly because I don't really care for the person I heard this from, and partly because I actually hate that saying--"it could be worse."

So while I am doing better, I am still left with this slow burning anger, which is centered around that idea of "it could be worse." I believe (hope) this, too, will work itself out as more distance develops between our lives and the latest round of crises.

Sure, from the logical standpoint, things could be worse. My boys could not be here. That would be worse. The troubles they face could be greater. That would be worse. In the scheme of things, I suppose we did get off "easy" in some people's view, especially to those who do have it "worse."

But that is where the anger comes...I hate that it is my family that this whole "it could be worse" idea is used. Sh.awn has had a recent surgery, which appears to have been successful so far. (except for his eyes) It could be worse--that surgery could have been unsuccessful or could have caused an infection, although we have to wait a full year to no longer worry about the infection risk.

Yeah, it could be much worse, unless you remember that for us, it already is. We have to deal with the threat of surgeries for the rest of our lives. Of shunt malfunctions. Of developmental delays. Of gross motor skill delays. Of possible pregnancies and miscarriages. Of that unknown future and what can happen.

Our (my) ideal dream that every parent has when he or she hears there is a pregnancy is gone. That picture of a perfect life with perfect children was shattered for us. For us, a pregnancy does not equal children. A pregnancy can and does equal miscarriage. A pregnancy can and does equal high risk and bed rest, and PPROM, and NICU stays. That is worse. It is there that we got cheated.

It makes me so angry at the unfairness of it all.

Don't get me wrong. I know I will be pregnant again** (it's the sticking that makes me nervous).

And I soak up the beauty that is my boys every single day. I am amazed at them and their strength. We are blessed that they are here and I love them with every ounce of my being. I will fight until I have nothing left, against anything and everything that tries to get in the way of my boys being happy and healthy. We are happy. And right now, we are healthy. (minus this cold from hell, but colds don't count) And, on most days and at most moments, I am VERY optimistic about what their future holds.

Still, today I am angry. I hate that I know exactly how fragile health is and that things could be so much worse for us. I am angry because I know that worse is still a possibility for us.

I am angry because I can't just go back to that life of blissful ignorance, no matter how much I want it.

Sigh. I guess, though, it could be worse.

**How egotistical is that? I hope I didn't jinx myself with that line.

Letter to the Universe - Part 2

Dearest universe,

I see you are having trouble understanding what I meant by my last letter. First, let me recap some things that have happened over the last few days:

1. The cramps? They produced absolutely nothing as far as a period goes. Apparently, you just enjoy inflicting pain on poor, unsuspecting women with a lot on their plate. You are quite the sadist, aren't you?
2. Mt. Vesuvius was joined by a friend on Tuesday, giving me the pleasure of starting the new school year with TWO ugly blemishes on my chin. WTF? I haven't had a breakout like this since I was a teenager.
3. Both boys have the cold from hell and want to be held all night long. By me. At the same time. I think I have had approximately 8 hours of sleep since Monday. If that. Let's just say that the lack of sleep is starting to show.

Now, maybe I need to put this another way, huh? Perhaps I was too nice, and you need the more forceful approach. So, let me try this again...

Stop fucking with me, dear universe, so I won't have to fuck with you. Because I have to tell you, I am in the mood to fight if all this drama doesn't stop soon.

That has to be plain enough for even the simplest of minds (not that I am calling you simple, universe, because we all know you are far from that.) It is clear and to the point.

I want peace. I want things to be quiet and calm. I want sleep. And damn it, I WANT IT NOW!

Got that? Good. Ahem.

Regards,

Stacie

Letter to the Universe - Part 1

A little station break here:

Dear Universe,

Yes. I'm talking to you. Seriously. Couldn't you make at least one thing easy for me? I mean, you've kicked us around quite a bit lately. Even though I have to say that my psyche is showing a little damage from the whole ordeal, I have been picking up the pieces. It is taking a little longer than it has in the past, granted, but still I am getting there. Then you go and

1. give me the most intense menstrual cramps today. Could it be the start of a period? Because you know, that would be lovely timing for a FET.
2. transplant Mount Vesuvius on my chin. A big fat blemish is the best way to make a great first impression for all the junior high kids--should make them feel right at home with me, right? and
3. make not one but both of my children sick with snotty noses and coughs, with a little fever thrown in for shits and giggles.

Enough all ready. It is time for you quit fucking with me. I am done. And, in case you are wondering, yes, it was the pimple that threw me over the edge. That was just cruel.

Sincerely,

Stacie

Okay, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

I've got so much on my mind, but the words are no where to be found. Story of my life at the moment...another 'so near yet so far' kind of thing.

Usually, I feel like this when the new school year rolls around. I am the happy parent excitedly shopping to get ready for the kids. Not this year. School starts tomorrow; the kids start on Tuesday, but I have hardly done anything to get ready for it. Well, I set up my room last week with the bare minimum. I have yet to plan a darn thing. That should be interesting, seeing how I have 5 different preps this year (every class I teach is a different level, grade, and/or subject). Looks like tomorrow will be busy.

It feels like I have lost my mojo. Anyone find some to spare lying around someplace?

Maybe the activity will be good for me--help break me out of my funk? Sure hope so.

These Things Are Good

These things are good...

• seeing my babies smile when I walk into the room
• hearing them call me "momma"
• snuggling with my husband in bed
• eating chocolate
• reading a good book
• wrapping myself in a warm blanket straight from the dryer
• playing in the sprinkler
• watching the clouds float overhead
• seeing a sun catcher's rainbows all over the floor
• living my life

These things are a drag...

• hydrocephalus
• miscarriages and bleeding
• fetching glasses thrown across the room over and over
• soggy french fries
• nightmares and sleepless nights
• summer ending
• and sometimes, living my life.

Maybe I'm Not Doing As Well As I Thought

...or at least not as well as I'd like to believe.

Let's recap the last few days:

• bad dreams - check (involving trying to live in strange people's houses, getting chased by the owners, and having a hard time running away while Sh.awn in my arms. Ja.son is no where to be found in these dreams. Is.aac is hit and miss--he never helps me with Sh.awn in the dreams, even if he is there. Have fun with that all you dream interpreters.)
• sleepiness - check (probably because I can't seem to get a good night's sleep)
• moodiness - check
• constantly feeling on edge - check
• near freak out when Ja.son threw up and developed a fever - check (it was gone in less than 48 hours)
• full fledged freak out when Sh.awn developed a fever - check (lasted around 36 hours off and on - both the fever and the freak out)
• forced myself to take the boys to the fair (and had fun!) because I don't really want to go anywhere - check
• lonliness (even when engaged and surrounded by people) - check
• avoiding the phone - check
• having trouble getting my thoughts out - check (which has made blog posting impossible)

Shall we say PTSD much? It appears this last month's fun has triggered some feelings I thought hoped were behind me.

Fun times.

I have decided that I am totally unprepared to go to work. Mentally, I am still in a pretty severe state of denial. Where the hell did my summer go, and why don't I feel like I had a break? Physically, after just two days of sitting through some leadership meetings, I could sleep for a week. I am utterly exhausted. I need to get my shit together quick like, or I am going to be useless when school starts!

I am sure it doesn't help that I am still bleeding pretty heavily, and have been since Sunday night. (I am ready for that part of the process to be done. Hell, I am ready for all of this process to be done.) I probably should start taking my iron pills again. I have a tendency to be anemic, something I've dealt with all my life, so it isn't too far out of the realm of possibilities that I am now.

Thank you for playing along and posting things to celebrate. I have enjoyed reading the happy things that are happening in your lives. It makes me more determined to continue to find things in my own life to celebrate.

Today, I am celebrating:

*I have a great track record for getting pregnant from my ivfs. I've gotten pregnant for each one. This gives me great hope for my upcoming FET. People, I am determined that this is going to happen for us!

*I was asked to advise another student teacher this trimester. I'll be the only master teacher at our school site this term. Apparently, if I wasn't able to take on the student teacher, the university advisor was just going to place the person somewhere else. (Shhh...My ego is all puffed up right now)

*Ja.son has a fever. Fevers are good. It means that he threw up for some reason other than because of his head. Hey, I take what ever I can get nowadays.

*I still have ten glorious days of summer vacation left!

*Sh.awny rocked in therapy today. He was working on moving from squatting to standing without holding. I love watching him--his drive is amazing. :-)

I'd love it if you kept playing, and let us know what you have to celebrate this weekend. I think I need to make myself a button and make this celebration thing a regular part of my life. Now I just need to figure out how to do that...

What About the Other 90 Percent?

I have decided I need to stop complaining. We all have it hard. Sure, some of us have it harder than others, but it depresses me to read this stuff; I can only imagine what you must think. I must find other things to talk about instead of doom and gloom--for my own sanity!

Here's something:

It's hard to get upset at your child throwing food on the ground when he looks at you, smiles, and tells you, "All done!" complete with the sign. Out of nowhere. All you can do in that situation is tell him what a great kiddo he is, smother him with kisses, and laugh. :-) (Sh.awn did that this afternoon.)

or

I love listening to Ja.son talk in three and four word sentences on a regular basis. The number of words he knows is mind blowing. And he talks all. the. time. :-)

and

We got a new batch of books to look at today, including some on bugs and butterflies. We had the best time looking at pictures and talking about all kinds of new things. Sh.awn spent nearly ten minutes kissing over and over again this picture book of babies smiling. He was especially fond of this sweet little toothy blond. Too cute.

plus

The county fair is in town and I just can't wait to take the boys to go see everything. We are planning on going this weekend.

---

I must remember it isn't all bad. The bad is probably only at ten percent of our lives at the worst of times, and even less when things are going well. (I still haven't figured out why the crap seems to come in humungous dung heaps, looking more like elephant piles, rather than be spread out like you find on a horse trail. We're just lucky like that I guess.) Sometimes, though, it is so hard to see all of the ninety plus percent that is going RIGHT when you don't force yourself.

I hereby declare myself forced.

Leave me a comment and gimme something good in your life to celebrate, too!

Yesterday I took the boys to the ophthalmologist for three hours of fun. (I just don't understand why places can't figure out how to schedule. It makes no sense to book so many people for the same fucking time. Two doctors and about 15 people in the waiting room is ridiculous. Seriously.) We were the last people to leave the office, even AFTER the doctor. Ugh.

Anyway, the good news is that the boys' eyes have not changed at all.

Bad news: we go back in 3 months and talk about the surgery for Ja.son's strabismus. And while he does not see pressure pushing on Sh.awn's optic nerves, the doctor did agree that the eye turning is most likely due to pressure near his nerves. His words..."so you'll most likely have another revision some time soon?" Couple that with Sh.awn's increased pickiness over eating (he ate very well for about 5 days, now we are back to him not eating as much or being very specific about what he'll allow in--not his norm), and I am back to being depressed.

I just want a fucking break already.

Is.aac and I are trying to decide what to do. The neurosurgeon, who continues to downplay the whole eye thing in the first place, offered to give us names of a few ophthalmologists to check his eyes. Because, you know, it couldn't be a head thing. Now that we've done that, we're going to have to go back and demand yet another CT scan. But, because our doctor only works T-Th, that makes things tricky.

This is going to mean surgery again. How many times are they going to be able to play in his head before they fuck him up even more than they already have? It makes me want to cry.

To top it off, I work tomorrow and Friday, and go back to school full time the week after next--as if things weren't hard enough.

So, today I took a shower. It isn't so much that I took a shower that is important, rather it is the fact that I wanted to take a shower. This, people, is progress. Progress is good.

I guess.

Update

I have to say that I really like my RE. He came in on his day off to scan me yesterday, even though there were others in the practice who could do it and I technically could have waited until today to go in. He said that he didn't want me to have to stay in this limbo forever. Not only that, but he waived the fees for everything yesterday.

The sac looked like it had started to collapse and there was no growth to the fetal pole since last week. There was still no heartbeat. It was pretty clear that things were over. I was given the option of stopping meds and waiting for my body to miscarry or getting meds to speed the process along.

I chose the meds. It's called misoprostol, which forces the cervix to contract and "expell tissue". So...ugh. it makes me sick to think about. (It is also used as an ulcer medication. Kind of a wide range of functions, no?) Anyway, once you take, or um, insert, the medication, it takes 1/2 to 8 hours to do its thing.

I started bleeding yesterday evening. I go back for a blood draw in a week to check levels. If my hcg levels aren't where they'd expect them, then I will have another dose of the misoprostol. They say that this will drop my levels pretty quickly and I should get my period in two weeks or so. Then I can start right back into cycling when I am emotionally ready. At this point, I think I will be ready right away.

I just want to add to our family. Too bad it takes so much crap to get there. Sigh

There is talk of FET for the next round. We shall see if my body likes it any better. My ovaries sure would, seeing how my right one is still the size of a grapefruit right now. I've been assured that as my hcg levels drop, my ovary will go down, too.

Last night was not a night I'd like to relive again, but I am feeling a bit better today. I am still crampy every now and then and feel like I've been hit by a truck. I've also had a few crying spells.

Is.aac stayed home to watch the boys so I have one less thing to worry about today. He's been very sweet, bringing me food and drinks and generally taking care of me.

I am feeling a little stronger today, too. Hoping that each new day brings more strength my way. That's really all I can ask for right now.

No. Crushed.

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Last night, I didn't set my PIO shot up before I got in bed. Is.aac has been coming to bed later than me and sort of wakes me up to give me shots. Anyway, he came in to get ready for bed and woke me to ask where the shot was. I told him why bother. He prepared the shot himself and gave it to me anyway.

But have I asked him his feelings about what we'll find on Sunday? No. I can't bring myself to. He hasn't brought it up either so we haven't said a single word since the appointment about what is going on. It has been thirty-six hours and nothing has been said.

Uncomfortable much?

I am doing everything I can to make sure that if the bean is fighting in here, he'll have a chance. I so want to go in there on Sunday and find a heartbeat. Please let there be a heartbeat. Let everything look wonderful and just as it should so I no longer have to worry about my bean. Please.

It is hard to say that because I KNOW I am just setting myself up once again for more pain. Part of me just wants to say fuck it and go on some sort of wild drinking binge (except I don't drink) because only when I do everything I shouldn't and potentially harm the bean would he be there on Sunday. Doing what I am supposed to do practically guarantees that I won't see the thing I want most that day. Does that make sense? My life is screwy that way. Sigh.

The day of my first beta was a therapy day. The nurse called to tell me the beta number and shortly afterward the RE called to talk to me, too. It was very obvious that something was up because not only does no one ever call me during therapy, but even I knew I was acting strange. I confessed to the therapist that I just may be pregnant. (she has a preemie that is the same age as the boys' adjusted age and has been trying for quite some time for number 2) Anyway, she confessed that she was 2 days late. We talked about how the competition is on to see who can stay pregnant longer (no preemies for us!) and pledged that we'd get uncomplicated pregnancies this time. You know, should betas double and she never get her period.

Last week I didn't see her. We had canceled therapy because I was supposed to be out of town. Today, she called and said she was running late, but she was on her way. No problem I tell her, I'd see her soon. Five minutes later, she called back. She said she had to go to the doctor right now and was cancelling. My heart sank. By the tone of her voice I just have this fear that something has gone wrong with her pregnancy, too. It just isn't fair.

I have to tell you that it is hard to wallow in self pity when there are so many other people you know of who are hurting, too.

Should there not be a heartbeat on Sunday, I will be crushed. I will cry. I will rage. But, I will pick myself up and try again. That is what I do. That is what everyone must do.

It isn't fun, and it isn't easy, but it has to be done anyway.

I am just at a loss for why things always seem to go wrong in our lives lately. No matter what I do, everything falls apart. Why must anything good that happens be coupled with something horrible? I just don't understand.

I am hurt beyond belief. Broken. I thought that I was protecting myself from everything. The spotting scared me, so I tried to distance myself from being pregnant. But I've been having morning sickness at night. My boobs are sore enough to make me yelp when they get touched. There's the acne and the constipation. The hunger and the fatigue. I tried to just not think about it because doing so made me all excited--brought me such hope. I was losing the battle, though. Hope was there. I couldn't stay away from it after all.

For it to just bitch slap me once again.

There's a song that keeps running through my head. It's Oar's "Shattered." The first lines of the chorus say it all. This is the ending...

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around
Give me a break let me make my own pattern
All that it takes is some time but I'm shattered
I always turn the car around

Give it up, give it up, baby
Give it up, give it up, now
Now

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around
All that I feel is the realness I'm faking
Taking my time but it's time that I'm wasting
Always turn the car around

How many times can I break till I shatter?
Over the line can't define what I'm after
I always turn the car around

Don't wanna turn that car around
I gotta turn this thing around

I think shattered is a pretty accurate description of how I feel right now. I've certainly been broken enough for a lifetime.

Hope has left the building.

Yet another punch in the gut. I can't even cry. Sigh.

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No heartbeat. Measures 6w4d. Go back on Sunday for scan to verify. 30% chance of viability.

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Wordless Wednesday - All About Sh.awn!

Oh my God, does this make me cry...

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Isn't it amazing? :-)

If you haven't yet, please read the post below and let me know your thoughts.

Crystal Ball

Thanks for the comments, everyone. Yes, I do feel like the rescheduling of the appointment is a blessing. I wasn't mentally prepared for it. Plus, with it being so close to Sh.awn's surgery, I was worried that he wouldn't be back to his usual self for the "evaluation" part of the appointment and maybe look like more is wrong than actually is. Does that make sense? The only drawback is that I have been a nervous wreck over the stupid appointment, which means my old friend IB will be back at some point in the not too distant future. (but I suppose that side effect will help improve the whole rabbit pellet situation I've got going on--joy of being pregnant)

What you have said has made me think about the whole idea of knowing the future, especially the future relating to myself and my family. What would it be like to have a crystal ball you can look into and know without a shadow of a doubt the future ahead of you? The ups. The downs. Everything would be lain out before your eyes whenever you want to see it. Would you do it? Would you look at the crystal ball?

While the idea is titillating and exciting at first glance, the longer I think about it, the more I think I would say no to the offer. Sure, sometimes it would be nice to know what is ahead of us, especially at times like these. I often feel I could gladly give up both my arms if I knew that all of the troubles of the early part of their lives won't affect them and my boys grow to be happy, healthy, well adjusted men. Don't get me wrong about that.

But...there is something to say for the unknown. The hoping, uncertainty, and the anticipation of what is to come all make life exciting. Those feelings make me strive to always do more than I think I can. To push myself because what I do today could impact the life I and my family have tomorrow for the better. The surprises of life make me want to continue putting one foot in front of the other because tomorrow just may be the day that will knock me off my feet with joy.

How could I go on if I knew that no matter what I did, I would never be able to make a difference in my boys' lives? I need to do something--anything--I can to give them every opportunity imaginable. A revelation that I had no effect would break me.

So what do you think? If given the chance to see your life and the life of your family in a crystal ball, would you look? Why or why not?




I'd love to know!

You've Got to Be F'ing Kidding

So we get to the appointment just barely on time. I send Is.aac in to sign us in and take a few moments to change everyone before we head in ourselves. Just as the boys and I walk in, they call our names. I couldn't believe our luck.

I get to the window to hear...

"You didn't get the message from our office this afternoon? The doctor isn't in today."

By the sight of us standing in front of her, she could pretty much guess we hadn't got a call from her f'ing office. In my head I pictured me throttling her while I spat out a very detailed version on just how nice it would have been to have this information just, oh say, an hour ago, when I was trying to wake everyone up and make them eat while no one was the least bit interested in either activity!

"We scheduled you for tomorrow at the same time."

"We have therapy tomorrow. We won't be able to make it."

"You want me to reschedule you?" (she is, after all, a quick one) "I have a Wednesday appointment at the end of the month."

"Wednesday is our therapy day, we can't make it on Wednesdays."

"Ok. No problem. We have an opening on September 8."

So it seems, I have a reprieve...for a month.

And we are all cranky. Wonderful.

Dread

I am dreading tomorrow, so much so that I seriously would love to take a Valium or two. Or three.

Tomorrow is our neurologist appointment for both the boys. Of all the appointments we go to on a regular basis (and there are quite a few), this is the one that scares me the most. There is so much this man could say that would shatter my world in an instant. But I am waiting for those words to come. Big scary words. Labels. They're coming--if not tomorrow, then at some other appointment. I just don't want them to.

And damn if Sh.awn has yet to perfect his ability to flip the bird.

Sigh.

I know there are things going on with the boys. I know there are issues. I just don't want labels thrown at us. I want to be content in my world of denial.

These types of appointments are so defeating for me. I try so, so hard to make things better. I try everything I can think of to help. But it is never enough. The rational side of me can see that my boys are making incredible strides. The rational side of me can even admit that maybe I had something to do with all this progress. However, there is that irrational part of me (which is larger than I'd like to admit) that takes all of this medical information in and labels me with a big fat F. --a failure. --because it's all my fault.

Even writing that makes me feel selfish, because really, this isn't about me, or at least, I try to not make it about me. I am just not successful at it. (Yet another failure.) This is about the boys. How dare I make it about myself when they are the ones living with the repercussions, whatever they may be.

"Whatever they may be..." Maybe that is the problem. Maybe if I knew what those repercussions will be I could just deal and move on with things? Maybe this unknown is what is making me so afraid? I just need to man up and take whatever we're thrown.

But, I don't want to hear anything even possibly negative about my little guys.

They are beautiful. They are smart. They are funny. They are perfect.

I wish everyone would stop trying to make me think otherwise.

Happy Anniversary, Is.aac!

Today is our seventh wedding anniversary. We had a wonderful day. My mom came over to watch the boys so Is.aac and I could go out to a movie. Imagine that!?! I can't even remember the last time I watched a movie in an actual movie theatre. Afterward, we brought some food back to the house and had a great dinner as a family. (We found out that Sh.awn likes scalloped potatoes and Ja.son is wild over sweet potato french fries. They even ate some pork, which is nearly unheard of because they don't often eat meat!)

I have now had Is.aac in my life longer than I have not! We've been together for over 20 years now. How can that be? Surely I'm not old enough for that! :-)

Happy Anniversary, Is.aac. I love you.

And I am excited to see the possibilities this year brings to our lives!

Sh.awn continues to do well. I am not yet ready to stop stressing, but he is eating with a vengeance and acting like his usual self. His eyes, especially his right eye, continues to drift to the left on occasion, although even I have to admit it isn't as often as it was before. I went back to my notes from last year and read that his right eye took longer to return to center than his left after those dark days. The only thing that seems off now is his balance. He topples easier than he did before, but for now I am going to just watch how he does as his body/brain heals from the surgery. Maybe he has a bit of vertigo? He started pulling himself up again yesterday, so I hope that he's going to get back to his normal sooner rather than later.

It is so hard to see his now bald head and look at that new 3 inch incision on his sweet little head and not feel a pang of guilt, though. Sigh.

---

I got my embryologist summary report today. I still can't believe it.

Total No. of oocytes: 11 (11 mature)
Fresh cycle
Method(s) of insemination: IVF
Total No. Inseminated: 11
No of normal fertilized: 10 + 1 at 1PN (not a clue what the 1 PN means)
No. of abnormal fertilized: 0
No. of unfertilized eggs: 0
No. cryopreserved: 4 Blastocysts (holy cow!!!)
No. transferred: 2
ET date: 7-6-09
Assisted Hatching: No

So now I have a total of 5 snow babies just sitting around waiting. Is.aac is sweating bullets. I think he knows that my mind is already thinking of the possibilities...

:-)

---

I had a great time at Wicked with my girlfriends. My mind and body needed to step away from everything for just those 30 hours to refresh and renew. I was able to come back and really look at Sh.awn, see the changes from the day before, and feel hopeful. I couldn't ask for more than that. Plus, who wouldn't feel good when two little ones squeal in delight upon your return? Not I, that is for sure!