Brenda Cochran

A Beautiful Woman, A beautiful Life

The Journey Home

Friday February 17, at 4:39AM, something Godly and beautiful happened right before my eyes.

Thursday morning around 4am, after about 2 hours of sleep, I awoke to a thud. I sat straight up in bed with my heart racing. My immediate thought was "she fell!". But I was temporarily paralyzed in fear."Ronnie??" I called out, hoping he had tripped or knocked something over. But there was no answer. Then I heard a sound that sent my heart deep into my stomach and forced my body to jump up and take off running without a thought. It was the sound of my mama moaning in pain. When I rounded the corner, I was horrified at what I saw. She was laying on her back in the floor. She was steadily moaning. "MOM!" I cried out and dove onto the floor. I scooped her head into my arms. "I'm okay, I'm okay", she said. I was surprised to hear actual words come out of her mouth. She had not been doing much other than mumbling. "Mom are you okay?!?!?" I asked. She continued to moan. "RONNIE HELP ME!!!" I screamed into the hallway. Ronnie came running. Josh was close behind. Their breathing let me know that they were as terrified as me. Ronnie scooped her up like an infant and placed her in the bed. She was yelling out in pain as he shifted her body. "I know mama, I know mama I'm sorry" he said with a trembling lip and tears welling up in his eyes. Josh was crying. I was trying to catch my breath and fighting off a panic attack. "I gotta pee" she said in a mumbling tone. She acted uncomfortable and agitated. Like she couldn't stop trying to move her body, she just couldn't actually do it. She was trying so hard to lift her body off of the bed. She didn't have enough strength to lift her back off the mattress. The boys had to pull her up. I then wondered to myself, how long she had worked to get her self up before she fell.It is not as though she got up, took a step and fell. She CAN'T get up. She obviously worked for a LONG time to get her body out of that bed, before she succeeded, and then fell. This thought made my heart crumble. She was so proud. She didn't want to ask us for help to go to the bathroom. She insisted on getting up and going to the restroom on her own. The boys lifted her, expecting her to put some weight on her legs, but she couldn't. They were like jello. "You're okay mama. You're okay" I kept repeating, because she seemed scared. Then it happened. She lost control of her bladder. Right there in her room, with her first born and baby son holding her up. I was in front of her. As her accident took place, I said "It's fine mama. Not a big deal. You go ahead, we will clean it up. You are fine." I was terrified. I was heart broken. Definitely for her, but for my brothers as well. I cleaned her, changed her clothes, and though she moaned, the boys placed her back in bed. Immediately, she wet herself again. We told her again that it was ok. "You cleaned us, we will clean you now" we soothed. I cleaned her, then called Hospice. Our nurse said to give mom some extra medicine to help her calm down. She also said that she was on her way to put in a catheter. When she arrived, it took a while, and alot of extra medicine to get mama to relax. She then tried twice to put in a catheter, but she was unsuccessful. Finally, moms medicine kicked in, and she was resting decently.

The day was filled with decline. Small steps in the direction that we didn't want mom to go. There were small signs all through the day, that she was getting ready. But part of her wanted to stay behind. That was the part moving her legs and arms. Trying to make herself be well. When she heard our voices, the movements she made were obviously increased. She wanted to get up and talk to us and hug us and play with the grand kids, I think. When the room was quiet, she was peaceful. The nurses came back, put in the cathetar, and explained that mom was in a tunnel. On one end there was light and voices beckoning her to come to Heaven. On the other, was the voices of her children and family, encouraging to get better. She felt like she was in a tug of war. Over the course of Thursday, Ronnie, Josh and I, told mom that we were all okay. I heard Ronnie saying "Mom, I'm not gonna let Nikki worry to death, I promise. We will take care of Josh, like you wanted...and I'm gonna be fine". I had similar conversations with her as well.I was numb through most of the day. But just as the Hospice nurses were about to leave, I went in her room and looked at her. Catheter in. Diaper on. Body nothing more than bones and skin. She wouldn't have wanted this. This is not her. I cried hysterically.

Around 9pm, it was just me and the boys. I was very sleep deprived, and Ronnie encouraged me to get some sleep. So, I listened. I never thought you could be so sleepy it hurt. But I was hurting. I laid down in my old room. The room mom reset up for me recently, so that I could one day move in with her and care for her. I awoke to Ronnie saying "Nik, I gave mom her 11:30 dose". So I got up and went and looked at her. She was the same. She was breathing out of her mouth only. I cleaned her mouth with a damp cloth and kissed her. Her eyes were kind of half open and she blinked them a few times. We talked to her for a min, then I went back to bed. I awoke the second time to Ronnie saying "Nik, I gave mom her 3:30 dose". I got up again. This time, her breathing was different. It sounded like she needed to cough or something. Ronnie and I shifted her a bit to make her more comfortable. This was the last time I saw my mama's eyes with some life behind them. She opened up and looked at us both. "Hey mom" I said softly. Ronnie greeted her as well. I saw the love in her eyes. I know my mama. She would have said "I love y'all", if she could. She closed them back, and I headed to grab the phone to call her sisters. They wanted to know any little change. When I made it back. The congestion sound was gone. Her breathing was clear. Ronnie and I laid in her room for about 45 min just talking. Then he said, "Nik, I'm tired". So I encouraged him to go lay down. He barely made it across the hall before mom's breathing changed once again. It is hard to explain, I was nervous and scared....But you wouldn't have known it to look at me or hear me. "Ronnie. It's happening" I said calmly. I heard him leap out of bed. He was breathing heavy. I could hear that his voice was shaking. "Do I get Josh? Can he handle this?" "Go ask him" I encouraged. I held mom's hand as the boys made their way back in the room. "We are here mama" Ronnie said. It was obvious that she was about to go. "Put your hands on her" I told the boys. Ronnie grabbed her hand. Josh cupped her face. I grabbed her other hand. Then we used our free hands to hold each other. We then took turns telling her things. "Thank you for all that you sacrificed" "Thank you for being you", "Thank you for always being there", "You were the best mama we could have asked for", "We are so proud of you", "You have fought so hard and you did so good", "we will stay together like you taught us",......."We will NEVER let the kids forget you". Just like that, my mom took her last breath. We all began to cry. Ronnie, started crying a bit louder than us. What felt like a lifetime after her last breath, I feel like she heard him, and she fought her way back. She gasped again, and started back breathing. I grabbed Ronnie's hand "Ronnie, calm down. Let her know you're okay". "I'm okay mama" he said. Then we all told her we loved her again. In that moment, my mom went peacefully into the loving arms of her maker. We cried silently over the body that used to possess our mom. Then, Josh, red eyed and wet faced smiled a big smile at Ronnie and I. "She went peacefully, y'all. That's what we wanted". We all then smiled and continued to cry. He was right. Mom went where she needed to be. She went, more than willingly, when she knew that we were all okay. It was beautiful and peaceful. She saw her mama and her daddy. She ran to them, because her body was well enough to do so. Her fight is over. She is free now.

Last night, I was in bed somewhere between being asleep and being awake. I dreamed of her hand. I saw every detail of her hand. I know every thing about those hands, because during all of our road trips she held on to my hand. I studied it. Though I dreamed of how her hand looked, I awoke to the feel of her hand holding mine. I know I felt her. Her touch put me at ease, as it always did. I cried a little, then rested soundly.

We always came first with her-- ALWAYS. Mom never wanted to break down and have us take care of her, though she knew we were more than willing. She never wanted to "burden" us.She sheltered us even when she was first diagnosed and was sick as a dog. If you asked how she was doing, she would say "good". Ask a well person that, and you will probably get a lil complaint. Not mama. She never really complained with fatigue, though she was exhausted, or with pain, though her body was breaking down, or with sorrow, though she didn't want to leave us. When she fell, she used some of her last verbal ability to tell me that she was ok....Once again soothing ME.  Then, she came back when she heard Ronnie cry. She wanted to make sure he was okay. Then last night, I felt the touch of her hand. I know it was meant to soothe me. Taking care of US was all she knew, and she never stopped.  Not even now. She went home to Heaven gracefully and once again, I am proud of her. Always and forever.

Arrangements:

Visitation- 5:00 at Colonial Chapel (Indian Springs)

Funeral-2:00 at Colonial Chapel (Then the burial will be at Antioch Methodist Church)

If you intend to send flowers, but haven't done so yet, instead, please make a donation to St. Jude's Children's Research Center in my mom's name. She always insisted that no child should ever have to go through what she did.

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. We love you.

Downward Spiral

Things aren't any better with my mom. They are actually getting worse and worse by the moment. I spent the entire day at her house yesterday. A couple of times I walked into her room, and though she was very confused, she seemed to be having more coherent moments than the day before. I found myself a little excited.I was thinking, maybe she's getting used to this new pain patch, and she's going to be normal again soon. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. At one point, later in the day, mom came out of her room in her pajamas, her purse on her shoulder and a cigarette in her mouth. She tried to light the filter end and smoke it backwards. She also had all of her money in her hand. She said she was headed to pay her electric bill. She was stumbling so much I was afraid she would fall. I was scared that she was going to fall on one of the kids who were running around the house. Amber was crying. I was crying. She insisted that she was going to drive herself. She seemed kind of angry. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. It was like watching a Lifetime movie about an Alzheimer's patient. In that moment, she didn't even know she was confused. It was like convincing a drunk person that they shouldn't get behind the wheel. Josh snapped "this is ridiculous mom, you can't drive". She kept walking as though she was not letting anyone stop her. Finally, we talked it out, calmed the situation down, and found middle ground. She agreed to let Amber drive her. In reality, she shouldn't have even left the house. I was scared the phone would ring, and Amber would say that mom was being defiant or trying to get out of the car. Luckily, she rode calmly, then came home and went back to bed. I cried the whole time she was gone. It was then that I realized how bad she was. She's really, really bad. I also realized, it's not the medicine, like I hoped. When this happened, it had been over 8 hours since her last dose. It's the disease. It's completely taken my mom from me mentally and emotionally. Now we watch and wait for it to conquer her physically as well.

When Ronnie got home, we tried to explain to him the events that had unfolded through the day. Unfortunately, I don't think he realized the severity of the situation. When he saw for himself, he took off work a couple of days and cancelled his weekend trip to a coaching clinic in Dallas this weekend. I could tell that he was completely devastated, as we all were and still are. It is amazing how fast this is all happening. We phoned mom's siblings in Taylorsville to inform them of the drastic changes. Since Ronnie and Josh were staying with her, I went on home to pack a bag and head back today to "move in" for a while. I told mom I would do this a long time ago. I just can't believe that time has finally come. Last night, was pretty rough. For some reason, night time brings with it all of my anxieties and fears. During the day, I am pretty much numb. I watch family members cry, but I am emotionless. When I finally fell asleep, I rested well. But I dreamed of her. Then when I woke up, I couldn't fall back asleep. My mind was too busy. I just can't believe this is happening. The situation has deteriorated so fast. I know people think that we have had plenty of time to prepare, but we are not prepared. Not even close. She was fine last week. Not great. But fine. Now she is gone. Still here but gone. She does still tell us that she loves us--but that's about it. She is just lost in that head of hers.

Today was horrendous. She barely woke up, but when she did, she made NO sense. Her body was too weak to jump out of bed and demand to go anywhere. But she still seemed a bit agitated. She had alot of visitors today too. She is confused by her sisters and brother and others coming so frequently out of the blue. She is a smart woman. Though her mind is beginning to fail her, she knows that something is up. She keeps asking why everyone is here. We were honest "Mom, you're not doing too good. Everyone just wanted to see you, that's all." I laid in the bed with her earlier, and I told her "mama I know you're confused, but you are okay. We are going to take care of you". Though her eyes were closed, she mumbled "I know baby". I hope she really does know, and I hope it brings her some comfort. I have also told her repeatedly that I am proud of her. This is something I often told her when she was in a better mindstate. But I continue to tell her, because I keep getting prouder and prouder. She has fought like a champion, and even now she fights on.

I spent the day trying to find someone from Antioch Methodist Church to sell us a plot for mom. She loves that beautiful red brick church and the well maitained cemetary. She also liked the idea of being close to home.....Her favorite place. When we finally reached someone, Josh and I rode up to the cemetery and found the perfect spot for her. She had somewhat pointed it out already, we just had to pinpoint it. I think she would love it.

I feel so bad for her. She doesn't understand why she can't get her thoughts together. It is hard to watch a woman who is SO independent, unable to put her thoughts into words. It is heart breaking to watch such a beautiful person break down like this. I want to help her, but I can't. I can't do a single thing to make it better. I have been very on edge, impatient and snappy. I have been praying for the ability to deal with this situation more gracefully.

When Mallorie, the Hospice nurse came today, she explained some things to us. My aunt had brought to my attention that mom's urine was a brownish color. The next time mom went to the bathroom, I took the liberty to look for myself. She was right. She thought mom was dehydrated and perhaps she needed some fluids. So, I asked Mallorie. She explained that we could take mom to the hospital for fluids because she probably was dehydrated, but if the dying process has already started (and she believes it has), the fluids would make the situation much, much more difficult. Harder for mom, and harder for us to watch. She also predicted that based on her symptoms, my mom has about two weeks left. She told me that often times, patients have a goal. When they reach that goal, they feel they can "let go". Mallorie thinks mom's goal was Mili's birth. When I really think about it, I have to agree. She was fine until that day. The moment she left the hospital, she started declining and she hasn't stopped. It's gotten worse and worse and worse. Mallorie said that she has been fighting so hard so that she could honor her word, and now she is finally "listening to her body". It is unreal to think that my mom fought DEATH.....For ME. It is unreal. And yet, I am not surprised. My mom is woman of her word.

Tomorrow, I will go and pick out her dress, shoes, and hat for her funeral. Then, I will be putting pictures on cds to so that Ronnie can make her slide show. I just want to get it all out of the way, so that when she does pass, I can just focus on my family. She really "softened the blow" of all of this by telling us exactly what she wanted. She has already chosen the funeral home and paid, she  picked out her cemetery and somewhat chose her plot. She chose the songs that will be sang, and just really talked us through this whole thing. What a woman. I am just so proud of her.

I am officially living with my mom. The baby is with me, but the girls will be in and out. I feel, that even though I have been very honest with them through this, they definitely need to be sheltered from this part. It is horrifying even for me as an adult. She did look at Nori yesterday, who had climbed on her bed and was repeating "Gammy I wub you, Gammy I wub you" over and over, and she said "I love you too baby, SOO much". HER words broke my heart. Then, in a bad moment, Neva tried to come in mom's room and I snapped "get out!". She yelled from the hall "I just wanted to love MY GAMMY!!" Then she cried inconsolably. I just didn't want her to see her Gammy like that, but I felt so guilty. All she wanted was a sugar and a hug from one of her favorite people in the world. This is so hard on them. It's hard on us all.

My mom will pass here in the comforts of her own house, more than likely with all of her children present. Earlier, she said "I love all 3 of y'all". When she says that, it lets me know that she isn't completely gone, yet.

Please pray for our family.....

Don't Leave Me Mama

Mom, Nori, Neva and Ronnie were all hanging out at mom's house. Mom was out in the yard playing with the girls. They were sitting in mom's driveway looking for pretty rocks to put in their pockets to give to me later. Mom knows I never find those things until they are in my washer, but it never fails, they will dig in the rocks every time....Mom chased the girls around the house to the swing set, where they argued over who she was going to push. Mom carried on a conversation with them like they were her friends. I know that is why they love her so. Ronnie came walking out the back door and said he was headed to the store. Mom reminded him to get his checkbook. She told him to grab chocolate, Cheetos and candy for the kids. Maybe a little supper too, but not necessarily. Mom looked up and said "Nori, No! No!" because she was following behind Ronnie as he headed to his truck. She was a bit close to the road for comfort. "You have to hold hands!" She said. Nori grabbed Ronnie's hand and he led her to Gammy's loving arms. Mom picked her up and squeezed her tight. Then, with Nori on one hip and Neva holding on to her free hand they all headed inside to set up their pallet for the night. It was going to be great.
At least, that is what I ASSUME happened. That is what I picture happening.

In reality, I sat in the chair and cried as my mom laid on the couch sleeping. As usual, she talked in her sleep.  She mumbled some words that I could make out. "No, no, nori!", "Ronnie's checkbook", "You have to hold hands!" As she spoke, a confused Nori walked up to her several times. She got right in mom's exhausted face and whispered "I wub you Gammy. Pwease wake up". Neva sat to the side staring at her. She seems mad at her, or scared of her.  I can't tell. It just hurts to see her so stand-offish toward someone she adores. I know she is worried about her, because I sometimes catch her rubbing mom's feet or head and she seems lost in thought. To cheer myself up, I tried to see mom's dream. I am pretty sure I got it right. She is happy in her dream. She is the old mom. She is with her grand kids. She is healthy. She is beautiful.

Last week wasn't great for her condition, but she did babysit the girls for me while I was in the hospital. She was well enough to do that. This week? Well, things have definitely taken a turn for the worst. It happened in a split second. Like flipping a switch. I didn't realize it could happen that fast, and I find myself completely unprepared. At first, we thought it was the medicine. So, we attempted to cut back. Unfortunately, she was in so much pain-we couldn't do that. I even phoned the clinic. Not Hospice, but mom's old cancer clinic. They told me exactly what Hospice already had. We have to choose between: mom hurting horribly and being awake, and mom being groggy, sleeping alot--but in less pain. It is a harder choice than you might think. I miss her so much I am physically sick to my stomach. When she wakes up, which is only a few minutes at a time, I try and tell her everything the girls have done or said. I try to fit all of our usual conversation into a 5 minute window. When she falls asleep as I am speaking, I cry into my hands. I want her back so badly.

Yesterday, I had to bathe my mom. It wasn't as bad as you might think. It wasn't as bad as I thought, anyway. The worst part was seeing her body. It was reminiscent of a skeleton with skin on it. My once plump and healthy mom has resorted to skin and bones. As I washed her, my hands rubbed over sharp bones protruding from her body. I wondered how she could find a comfortable position at all.

When she speaks, it is usually slurred and may or may not make sense. I worry that I have had my last coherent conversation with my mom. She is my best friend. I am lost without her. I am so alone. I still have so much to say to her, but I fear she won't really hear it now. I am a wreck. My demeanor has sent Neva on a horrible behavior spree, and poor Nori has regressed in her potty training. Yesterday, they went into mom's room. When I realized they were "missing", I went in there to look for them. They had piled up several pillows on mom as she slept. They said they were "helping her". They just don't understand. Neither do I.

Between yesterday and today, mom has had a ton of visitors. Amber told me that Mom asked "did everyone hear that I was dying or something?". Maybe she really wondered, or perhaps that is one of her inappropriate jokes.... that is so typical of the old mama. Either way, she knows something is up.

Yesterday, while crying on the phone with the hospice nurse, I asked (unsure if I was ready for the answer) "how does this usually play out?" She reluctantly explained to me that most of the time, patients start declining (as mom is doing), then they go to sleep. A coma-like sleep. Sometimes it is a couple of days, sometimes as long as a week, and then they pass. I appreciated her honesty. But as she spoke, I floated outside my body. I looked back at the tear stained face of a stranger. I felt sorry for her. It can't be me. I would never be having this conversation. Especially not about my mama. Bless her heart. She is losing her mom. I will pray for her.

I am hanging in there. Surprisingly, though I have spoken of my numerous tears, I have been so strong. I really have. Not the most patient and attentive mom, but still strong. I have found myself consoling my brothers the last couple of days. Ronnie is a little more in touch with his emotions than Josh. Josh had his first breakdown yesterday. The first one, that I know of, since mom got sick. It makes me feel so wonderful to be able to do this. I want to be there for them. We know we have to stick together through this, and so far so good. Mama would be so proud. SHE made us this way.

She still wakes up some, and we get bits and pieces of her here and there. She sometimes doesn't recognize the kids, or remember their names, but she DOES open those beautiful green eyes and that is enough for me.

I am hurting so much that I can't put it into words, yet I feel completely numb. I miss her. When I see her I want to squeeze her, but we have to be so gentle with her little body. I am so ripped up inside. As I type tonight, I do not find the same comfort or release that my writing usually brings me. Perhaps because this is the first blog post that my mom won't read. She loved reading my thoughts, even when they were dark. I still text her every night, though I know she isn't reading them anymore. Lots of "I love you's" and "I miss you's"...But the last one I sent was simple "Mama don't leave me". I cried as I typed it. I hoped for a response, a reassuring one. But it never came.

My mom is dying. God help me.

Still With Me

Things are beginning to settle down, since we brought Mili home. My girls have adapted to having a second sister beautifully. When I announced my third pregnancy a few months ago, several people said "If you can handle two, three is no different". I have to admit, I found that VERY hard to believe. Though I was excited about the pregnancy, I feared how I would actually handle ANOTHER ONE!!! Now that she is here I am realizing that everyone was right. Except, it takes a little longer to get out the door now, with an extra little body to dress. I am a huge advocate of breastfeeding, though it is not very convenient. This, too, slows down the "getting ready" process. Besides that, things are no different.  Mili is FANTASTIC. I mean, wow....She is just wonderful (if I do say so myself). My body felt as though it had healed totally before I was even released from the hospital. With the exception of some extra weight and some additional fatigue, I can't even tell I had a baby! I really feel like this all is a gift from God. Because I am not up with a colicky baby, or suffering through a difficult recovery, I can still put the same amount of focus on my mom. I have barely missed a thing.

With everything so absolutely wonderful in one area of my life, in another area things appear to be deteriorating. Mom is down. She insists she is fine. But most days, we wake her up to take her medicine, then she goes back to sleep. Ronnie likes when she is asleep. She laughs and talks happily in her sleep. This is not something that we see very often. In her dreams I believe she is well. She is well and living a normal, healthy and happy life. When we wake her, her body is betraying her. It refuses to do what she needs it to do. It fights her. Though I want my mom awake, alert and with me, I long for her to be happy as she is in her dreams. Her demeanor has changed as well. I rarely see a genuine smile, hear her laugh or make jokes. She has grown quiet and somewhat withdrawn. Those of you who know mama, know this is completely out of character. Though I know she values family time more that anything in the world, when we are all there together--the noise and chaos seems to be unsettling for her. When you think back to your worst cold, flu or stomach virus you ever had, the last thing you really wanted was company, right? Well, that is how I make myself understand why my mom seems to be annoyed sometimes with our presence. She will never admit it--but I know her and I see it in her face when the crowd becomes a bit overwhelming for her. I always take the hint and try to leave soon. I have spent the last few days trying to balance my desire to be with her and her need for privacy and rest.

Since I had Mili, I have had only one emotional night. With everyone asleep and no one to distract my thoughts, I flashed back to the chemo days. Those of you that have kept up with the blog know that, though I did my best and was always available for her, I was not able to attend every minute of every chemo session. Most of the time I just hung out in town until it was finished because I had the girls. We often dropped her off,  waved to her through the window, greeted her as she walked out, then took her to lunch. But, usually, she sat through the actual treatment alone.  The more I pictured her in that cold room, alone, with poison pumping through her body, the more upset I became. Finally, I called mom. To my surprise, she answered. I told her to answer me honestly. I asked if she felt alone or if it was hard on her because I wasn't in there with her each time. She stopped me in my tracks: "What are you doing? Why are you asking this? I didn't want you there! There was no need for you to sit there. I wanted you with your girls. You have done more for me than, even you, will ever know. So stop thinking like that. Just stop it". She was passionate. After several bad days, it felt good to hear fire in her voice... I believe what she says. I guess I am forever looking for a reason to beat myself up.

Today, I pretty much forced mom out of the house. She admitted that she really did want to get out, but you couldn't tell by her behavior. She was quiet and withdrawn. She held her body in an awkward position while riding in my car. She gripped her body in pain each time I hit a bump in the road. I tried to make conversation, but it was hard. Though our outing was limited due to Mili, I thought we could at least grab lunch at Shipleys. Mom didn't touch her food. Don't mistake me, I don't mean she didn't eat much, I mean she didn't eat a thing. She barely even looked at her food. She didn't talk hardly at all. Halfway through the meal, she got up and walked outside to wait on us. I couldn't finish eating. I missed my mama. I missed her even  as she sat next to me in the car on the way home. I feel, sometimes, like I don't have her now. It is hard to see her want to be herself, but unable to quite grasp who she used to be. The cancer is stripping her of herself. It is heart wrenching to watch.

Once we got back to her house, I put the "big" girls down for nap, while she watched Mili. When I came out, I found this:

This sight, made me feel better. There is my mom. The one who cannot resist my kids. The one who isn't annoyed by anything except my disciplining her "perfect" granddaughters. The one who laughs and talks and lights up the room. I sat and watched them sleep. There she was. She's still with me. Thank you God.  

Welcome Baby Mili!

On Wednesday February 1st, 2012 a massive amount of prayers came to light when a beautiful and healthy baby girl was born and was able be placed immediately into the arms of her mom, her dad, and her grandmother.

A woman, just having gone through the childbirth process, can make a never ending conversation about every little detail, the ups and downs, the almosts and the actualities. I will spare you....(you're welcome). But, I do want to tell you a little bit about my experience......

Before we left I was SO nervous. I was more nervous than before I had Neva!

Mom was in pain. It was not a good day for her symptoms. But she was a total trooper. She never left my side and brought me an irreplaceable comfort through the labor and delivery process. My epidural didn't take completely, and at one point I was hysterical. This is not something I have done with either previous delivery. Those of you who delivered without meds are rolling your eyes right now.....Well, don't judge me! I am weak! Anyway, I became quite "verbal" with my pain. By that, I mean I screamed in agony for about 30 min. My mom, who is INSANELY protective over her children (EVEN now that we are grown), very calmly stroked my hand and made me look at her. Right into her eyes. I could only see her eyes over the mask, but I heard her words clearly. "Breathe, baby. Take a deep breath and pray. Just pray." She said it so calmly. So I did. I listened, I  prayed, and I did it!

Mili Aubren Garcia 7lbs 5oz, 19 3/4 in. Born at 11:24 am. She, too, was VERY verbal.

See the pride on that mama's face? Both of them....

My hero!

Those that travel outside of Laurel to deliver their babies are CRAZY! You have the very best right here at your fingertips! I have seen Dr. Weber through all three pregnancies and delivered each time at SCRMC. I have NEVER had one SINGLE complaint.

Before I went in on Wednesday, I received a call on Tuesday from a OB nurse reminding me of my appt time and everything I needed to do. As I spoke to her, I told her about my 2 previous WONDERFUL experiences and even compared my hospital stay to a mini-vacation! Well, this 3rd time did not disappoint. From the nurses soothing my nerves beforehand, to calming me down during the delivery, to the hospital stay itself, everything was just incredible. Everyone was so nice and compassionate. The nursery employees gave Mili the very best care and allowed me to catch up on some much needed sleep. I cannot say enough good things about my time in the hospital. It almost makes me want to do it again.....But not quite.....

So, I just delivered. That is my excuse for looking this way.

The nurses laughed about this lil girl's attitude. Luckily it was temporary. She is the SWEETEST lil thing!!!

I didn't get many pictures of mom in the delivery room. She was in alot of pain. Shortly after the birth, she, my girls and Ronnie headed to her house for a nap. She came back and stayed for a while that night. I was so worried about her. I haven't seen her hurt that bad in a while.

Mili  has been very drawn to mama since the first time they locked eyes. She can be screaming in my arms and mom takes her and she cuts it off like a switch. She just studies her face. She loves her. But I am more than sure that the feeling is mutual.

POOOOOOOOOOOOR Michael!!!

Y'all should have seen the way the girls came up to the hospital. Delivery day I laid out their outfits. The next day, their daddy dressed them. Neva had on a tank top and high water jeans that haven't fit in forever. Nori had on an over sized tshirt, capri pants and work boots. I was proud that he tried.

Wow...

Though my hospital stay was wonderful, I have to admit, I was a bit lonely. I found myself walking up to the nurses desk just to talk. Michael had to work and tend to the girls. Mom was too sick to come after the initial delivery day. There was alot of time spent in my room alone. It's funny. When you have kids, you find yourself BEGGING for alone time. When you actually get it, if you are like me, you are completely lost. I missed my girls. I missed my husband. I missed my mom. My mind went to the prior hospital stays, when mom barely left my side.

She was upset about it too. She cried on the phone and apologized repeatedly about her inability to get up and put one foot in front of the other. "A mother should be there with their daughter", she said in a cracking voice. My heart ached for her. I assured her I was fine. And I REALLY WAS, just as soon as I got to her house. It was the first stop after I was released.

Neva is wonderful! She wants to help help help. Which is scary scary scary. But Nori? Nori can't stop kissing her Mili! Both girls have reacted SOOO sweetly to their lil sister!

Uncle Bubba is gonna be a great Dad one day.

I spent a couple of days and one night at mom's house. She is in love with Mili. But we also worked very hard to not let the other ones feel left out.

Saturday mom woke up with her eye swollen. It was very alarming. For the last couple of days it has gone up and down in size. The Hospice nurse said that mom's brain tumors could be to blame. I cried at the thought of cancer movement on her brain. Until that point, I had not really worried so much about that particular location. If it gets really bad we are supposed to take her to the ER. Of course, I am beside myself with fear. We are watching it very closely.

3 1/2 years ago. Mom and Neva.

2 years ago. Mom and Nori.

2 days ago. Mom and Mili.

Funny how things change. One thing that has remained? My knowing, without a doubt, how absolutely blessed I am...