Ariana to Vivi this morning as the girls brushed their teeth . . .

“No, Vivi!  Don’t use that one!  If you use Mommy’s toothbrush you’ll have a baby before you get married!   Mommy’s toothbrush has a virus on it!”

When my mom and sister told me that they were taking a quilting class from Kim Diehl, a national quilt teacher and author of several wonderful quilt books, I was insanely jealous. Jealous because of their fun opportunity, but more green with envy because, once again, they were doing mother/daughter bonding without me. So, I took matters into my own hands, cashed in some frequent flier miles, and flew to UT to join them.

The class was informative, but the fun part was being together. Heidi was the speed demon, setting the pace for the class, my mom was a steady performer in the middle of the pack, and I was honest-to-goodness DEAD LAST. No surprises there.

Another highlight of the trip for everyone was bowling at BYU with Heidi, Jesse, Claire, Tyler, Noah, Matthew, Vivi, Mom, Dad and me. The fact that I couldn’t seem to keep the ball from going in the gutter was a source of great amusement for everyone. I managed to score a 38, if that gives you any indication of the caliber of my skills. YIKES!!!

Vivi returned back to Texas with a “pet” dog.  Much to Bryan’s relief, it’s just a darling stuffed weenie dog that Heidi whipped up for Vivi in an hour or so.  Vivi insists on calling the dog “Grandpa.”  To her, I’m certain that she’s honoring one of her favorite people.  I’m not so sure Grandpa thinks that having a weenie dog named after him is such an honor, though.

I’m grateful to all the people back here in TX that helped pitch in and watch Ariana while I was away.  THANK YOU!!!

A lima bean–5/8″ long. That’s how big the ultrasound tech said that our 7 week, 5 day old “baby” is now.

Yesterday’s doctor’s appointment helped reassure us that, despite the turmoil of the past several weeks, our little lima bean has a strong heartbeat, measures right where she should be, and should arrive on or about October 5th. Seems like such a long way away!

Two weeks ago . . .

Curled up on the floor of the shower, fighting off the fear and nausea, trying not to faint, I wished again that all of this could just be a BAD dream.  But, the lump in my left breast discovered the night before was very real, very large, and very scary.  Why does this sort of thing always happen over the weekend . . . when doctors are unavailable???  My grandma died of breast cancer.  If something happens to me, Bryan loses a wife and a daughter because physical custody of Ariana would revert back to “Utah Dad.”  How does all of this impact our very early pregnancy . . . FINALLY . . . after nearly a year of trying to conceive.  I’m so weak from the stomach flu and from morning sickness.  This is more than I can bear.
Monday, 2/11 . . .

Bryan and I were comforted a bit by my physician’s initial assessment, but he wanted me to get into a specialist STAT.  Later that day, after a 3-hour ordeal with a doctor specializing in “surgical diseases of the breast,” the horrible feelings of panic and despair returned–the specialist said that the mass was an “irregular shape” indicative of cancer.  She was not very optimistic.  All we could do was wait for the biopsy results which were promised by Wednesday.

Tuesday, 2/12 . . .

Lots of tears.  Lots of prayers.  Couldn’t eat.  Couldn’t sleep.  Watched several episodes of “24” (season one) that we borrowed from the library.

Wednesday, 2/13 . . .

More tears.  More prayers.  More episodes of “24.”  Still can’t eat.  About to jump out of my skin every time the phone rings.  FINALLY, at 6:30 p.m. we get the much-anticipated call from the doctor.  BENIGN Fibroadenoma!  She even discussed the results with the pathologists to get comfortable with their findings because it’s not what she expected.  But after walking through the results with them, she is confident that the diagnosis is the correct one, and I am confident that we’ve just been blessed with a miracle in our family.

Two weeks later . . .

I am a different person.  I am more patient, more kind, more understanding.  Not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for my miracle . . . my reminder that life is fragile  . . . my chance to raise my family, to be a better mom/wife/friend.  As scary as it was, I pray that I may never forget this experience and hope that I may be changed forever.

. . . or at least that’s what Vivi would tell you.

She downed 1 1/2 full-size cans all by herself at lunch today!

A visitor arrived at our house, completely uninvited.  His name is “gastro-enterisits,” or at least that’s what the urgent care center called him.  I wish that he would go away, leaving us the health and peace we once enjoyed.

P.S.  Dad proved to be a hero again.  Even though he was suffering with the stomach flu, he dismantled the sink’s plumbing and found the missing tooth.  So, the tooth fairy never received this letter.  I was interested to see what his/her answers were going to be.