It Rained Until it Shined

The snow day Monday, Steve stayed home from work and couldn't play with the kids at all or come near me because he was feeling so bad. This was a bummer, but boy oh boy did we have quite a week in store for us. This was truly the calm before the storm.

Tuesday was another snow day, and I did have such a great morning with Cohen, but then it was off to the hospital with Hudson for an I.V. and an injection. This radioactive substance attached to the Neuroblastoma in his body and let us know, head-to-toe, where everything was for sure.

Checking into Medical Imaging January 7th. There were so many sick kids out there and they didn't have a room for just Hudson, so we had to hang out in a back hallway. Immune-suppressed Hudson Xavier does NOT need to be around the hacking children of the world!

Mommy and Hudson waiting in our room for his I.V. His little cheeks are so rosy because the thermostat was turned up to 85 in his room! I had to turn it down... stat! 

 Finally, after one blown vein in his arm, they put his I.V. in his hand using a red light and a hand warmer to spot the vein. Poor guy. Sweeties and a hospital lavender-scented pacifier always do the trick to help ease the pain, though. The only time the kid will take a paci is when he's in pain. My sweet boy.

We had to wait a half an hour to make sure he didn't have any bad reactions to the injection, and Hudson got a little sleepy...

Once we got home and settled, Steve still was feeling awful, so he went to get some medicine, but he'd never make it to the store because this happened at our rental property:

A pipe burst near the water heater causing it to dump its entire contents and everything it was trying to refill onto the ceiling causing it to cave in. All flooring on the first floor, the entire ceiling on the first floor, counters and cabinets in the kitchen must be replaced. While I was on the phone with the insurance, I had Hudson screaming wanting to nurse, Cohen grabbing my hand to play, and Hattie dropping a ball on my lap to throw. All in all quite a stressful evening, I must say.

Here's what it looks like now:

Oh yes, and earlier that day I realized Hudson is losing his hair. 

Chemo will do that, and we totally expected it. So, I took some pictures before it started falling out to celebrate and remember the hair he was born with. 

We also did a little at-home hair cut the day I found the first of it in his bed and some that came out in my hands. After crying for quite a while, I called my sister who had these simple, yet all too true words of wisdom, "He may be losing his hair, but if you didn't have this treatment you'd lose Hudson." 

Talk about perspective. 

So, I gathered myself up after mourning the beautiful hair I was so (foolishly) proud of and decided to celebrate it instead. 

Though I feel good about everything, I will admit I even shed tears writing this and looking at the pictures, still. I don't know why this one little thing is so hard for me. Most babies don't have this much hair anyway, and it will grow back, but for some reason it strikes such a spot in my heart and makes me ache every time I think about it or more hair is left behind on his sheets, carseat, or my shirt. That was the hair he came into this world with. It was such a wonderful day and his hair was quite the topic of conversation as I was delivering him. I just remember how beautiful my baby was upon entering this world almost four short months ago, and I guess I'm selfishly not quite ready to give that up. Stupid, I know, but it's the (ugly) truth.

This one is meant to celebrate his eyelashes, which he'll most likely lose as well. You can just see how long and beautiful they are in the light. He has such sweet eyes. I've never met a baby who can make you feel so loved with just his eyes!

 Hudson's first haircut. I only trimmed up the ears and back. I left the top long figuring it'd be short enough all too soon, and we could still just enjoy his sweet little curls a bit longer. 

 Wednesday was my 31st birthday, but it didn't feel like it. Growing up my mom always made us feel like our birthdays were so special, and now as a mom I totally get it, because to her those days were the most memorable and beautiful day of her life. April 10th at 8:04 p.m. and September 15 at 4:16 p.m. are two days and times I'll never forget. But this year, I barely thought about it. I barely even recognized a whole new year of my life because there was simply too much to do.

While Mommy pumped because Hudson wasn't allowed to eat anything after 7 a.m. Best big brother ever.

Tuesday night I went through cards from my kids to get me in the spirit of going back to school, and you know what I found? I've got some pretty awesome 8th graders! All this time I've been dreading walking out of here and missing so much during the day with my boys, and I still do, but look what I get to walk in to. If I'm leaving the two most precious boys on the planet, it could be for far worse, right? Look at these sweet kids, writing from their hearts, for me, the teacher they barely know.

I wasn't able to go into school Wednesday, but I did have to run in to set up for subs for the rest of the week, and to my surprise my sweet students did this for me:

My welcome back banner from the BEST kids EVER. I am one blessed teacher. If any of you are reading this, grab your parents and tell them they did an awesome job, would you? :) It is SO hard to leave Cohen and Hudson, but you guys sure are making it a bit easier. I am so lucky to have students like you!

 Running as quickly as possible from one place to another, I had to get Hudson to his MIBG scan. This scan required light sedation (which he's already had twice now) to double check and make sure everything (head-to-toe) is right where we think it is. This first picture is of our nurse getting his Broviac line ready for the sedation and me helping to keep him calm. 

Our respiratory therapist (who is awesome) snuggling Hudson to help him sleep and our nurse administering the sedation while our technician in Nuclear Medicine got the scanner ready. I had to step away because he was trying to stay awake to watch me. When he finally fell asleep, I fell apart crying because he just goes so still. I know he's safe. I hear the monitors. But it's just a not-so-great thing to watch.

 If you look closely you will see THREE butterflies circling around and surrounding Hudson through his scan. This is the second set of three butterflies I have seen in times when I needed calm. The butterfly is the symbol of the lost baby, and we have three babies in heaven so clearly watching over their little brother.

His oxygen levels didn't dip down too low, but just enough to be cautious and add the tubes.

They strap him down really well to keep him safe. In the middle of it he wet his diaper. When they had to change him because it was blocking the view of the scanner, he woke and they had to sedate him more. I cried and cried. When every part of you wants to hold your baby and help him, but you can't it can nearly drive you crazy and most certainly will break your heart.

Home and sleeping. Marshall family rule--never wake a sleeping baby, so there he sat for three straight hours! Poor thing was zonked!

Hudson came out of the scan and nursed like a champ. That night at home, however he was not able to get milk from me. This was so upsetting. My mom went to make a bottle of my frozen milk for him, and I had to leave the room because he will refuse a bottle if he can see, hear, or smell me at all.

I went into my room, laid on my bed, and sobbed. I was just so drained emotionally from the day, from what was to come Thursday with chemo, and I just fell down on the bed and let it all out. I think I needed to. Doing all of this by myself I have to hold everything together, and I'm glad in a way that I finally had something that made me release those emotions.

Then, I got to thinking about what I had eaten that day with all the stress and being at the hospital had brought. About 500 calories. It was six o'clock in the evening and I had only consumed less than half of what I should have! I wiped my tears away, ran downstairs and started grabbing the best foods I could to replenish my supply. I pumped that night around 10 so my body knew I still needed to produce milk, and by morning we were back in business. Thank goodness this happened with my second baby, so I knew how to process what was happening, and I didn't think I was just drying up! Thank you, Lord!

Thursday morning we were back in the clinic for a full day of chemotherapy. This was Hudson's second round, and this day made everything else we had been through (and would go through in the next couple days) totally worth it.

Our wonderful nurse hooking Hudson up to chemo.

This is Dr. Dole. He is the man saving our baby's life. He is such a gift to us.

 At Hudson's examination, Dr. Dole immediately said that the tumor was MUCH smaller! He had me feel it to show me! He said two weeks ago when he pushed on his tummy it was, "Right there to greet me," but Thursday it was harder to find, but I definitely felt it.

 Dr. Dole told us the following news: Hudson's tumor has gotten considerably smaller, his genetic testing all came back favorable and low-risk, and Hudson will have a normal life expectancy! Tears of joy!
 Thank you, thank you thank you, LORD!!!

My mom snuck a picture of us when I heard the news. I'm so glad she did. I want to remember everything about this wonderful moment forever!

 Mommy and Hudson ready to tackle our second round of chemo!

Listening to Grammy read, "Mr. Brown Can Moo..."

 Before Hudson was born I wondered how I would give one-on-one time to this new baby like I did Cohen and had conceded to Hudson's time with me as a newborn would be so different from Cohen's. While it is different (in many ways), look at all the extra one-on-one time I get with him!

 Every hour we change a diaper for that day and the next 48 hours. SO thankful my mom came with me for this six hour chemo treatment that turned into 10 hours in the hospital before we got to go home. With Steve working and Cohen needing him, I have been doing all treatments and appointments alone. I was so thankful to have my mommy there taking care of me. 

Lots of play time with Grammy is the silver lining to a six hour chemo day! Grammy helped him find his new laugh that is his old laugh combined with this precious high-pitched squeal that makes all the nurses fall all over his sweet little self!

Chemo doesn't slow Hudson down. Still workin' that tummy time while hooked to fluids and chemotherapy!

Such a beautiful Thursday, but we were to quickly realize, tough times were not quite finished with the Marshall house. 

Friday, Steve took both he and Cohen to the doctor. The night before, while in the middle of hourly diaper changes, Steve told me he was just so cold. His temperature read 101.7. I grabbed Tylenol and a half hour later it read 103! Grabbed the Motrin, but fifteen minutes later it read 105.1! I was so scared. He was shaking and shaking, Hudson needed me, and Cohen was coughing so hard in the next room, I just knew he had something, too. With help from a sweet friend, who is a nurse, we chugged some Rehydrate and brought his temperature down to where he could finally sleep. The doctor says it's an infection possibly sinus or bronchitis. Our babysitter has a sinus infection, and Cohen tested positive for the flu after waking with his own 102 temperature.

Hudson and I took to the nursery with the air purifier and camped out in there for a few days. The hardest part is seeing Cohen (with a mask on and changing my shirt every time I come in contact with him, which isn't that often) and not being able to help my baby at all.

Through all this sickness, we still had to be on top of Hudson's treatment. Back to seven days of the bone marrow rebuilding drug, Neupogen that goes in the blue pump. Also pictured are the flushes, primer, and all the other goodies Momma has to hook together to heal our baby boy.

 And all of it...no matter how tough... All of it...just for moments like these:

Thank you, Lord that we will raise these brothers together as it should be. We praise You for this beautiful gift!!

Water You turned into wine, 

Opened the eyes of the blind. 

There's no one like You; none like You!

Into the darkness You shine. 

Out of the ashes we rise. 

There's no one like You; none like You!

Our God is stronger, 

God you are higher than any other.
Our God is Healer, 

Awesome in Power, 

Our God! 

Our God!

PRAISES:

-Wonderful genetic testing!!!
-Tumor shrinking!!!!!
-Loss of more nodules!!
-Growing and gaining weight!
-Family and friends who leave food on our doorstep and in our infusion room, call with concern, text with love, and rejoice along with us!
-Wonderful jobs for Steve and myself that are so good helping us still through this
-Amazing doctors who go above and beyond. Dr. Kim Kohsla and Dr. Dole are a Godsend.
-Sweet Anna, who we prayed for last week, is home safe and recovering...thank you, LORD!!


PRAYER REQUSTS:

-Chemo. last Thursday will knock the tumor down even more!
-Wonderful bloodwork this Thursday
-Steve, Cohen, and Ruthanne (our babysitter) get healthy enough to be around Hudson by the doctor's Wednesday estimate
-Me going back to work (still nervous a little!) Tuesday
-Hudson and I do NOT catch any of this sickness!


This week's scripture from our dear friend, Douglas. The Lord is working in your heart, sweet friend. Thank you for sending us this text just at the right time. Right when we needed to remember just these words exactly. We love you!!

This too shall pass, and what we're left with is God's promise; His rainbow. His hope. His never-ending, all consuming grace and love.