I found out I was pregnant on October 31st, 2009-Halloween. We were ecstatic. I couldn't believe it. I got up early (like 5 am-ish) to test. I honestly did not expect it to be positive. I was only 11 days past ovulation and figured it would be too early to test, but I was wrong. I peed on the stick and I was sittin' on the toilet kind of trying not to look at the lines, but I couldn't wait anymore and looked. I had to do a double take. I even rubbed my eyes. But there it was TWO big fat lines. I jumped up and jumped onto the bed to tell Aaron. I shook him awake and told him to come to the bathroom. We had been putting up a cabinet in the bathroom the day before and couldn't figure it out so we were leaving it until the next day to finish. So his response to me asking, "guess what?!" was "oh did you finish putting up the cabinet?" haha! He is always a little off when he's half asleep and it's 5 in the morning. I said, "no! guess what?!" He says, "You're pregnant." "YES!" He says, "I knew it." The rest of the day went something like this...went to costume castle to get our costumes for my mom's party. I finally bought the Marilyn Monroe dress that I always wanted to wear. I got home tried it on again, and bawled my eyes out onto Aaron's chest. He was laughing a little because it literally came out of nowhere. I was crying because I hated the costume because I didn't think it looked good on at that particular moment. WOW pregnancy hormones are crazy. So then I ended up going back out to Party City and got cat ears or something. I don't even remember what it was haha.
At the party, I really wanted to tell my mom, but I was scared to for fear of losing it. I didn't want to cause an upset. Luckily, I don't drink very often so when I declined drinks, it's nothing out of the ordinary.
Over the next week, I went on as normal. I wasn't exactly sure of the "protocol" of things. And I was in between doctors. I told my friend at work, who has a 2 year old, and she was like my pregnancy coach. She told me what to do as far as what I should and should not be doing now, and that I needed to visit my doctor. I went that wednesday got bloods done. Then went back on friday to get more bloods done to see if my levels increased. They did, but not as much as they should. I was told to refrain from sex and to take it easy. But came monday morning, I had cramps and a big clot came out when I went pee. Called Dr. and went in for more blood tests, and sure enough my levels had gone down dramatically. Then I had to go back in a week later and get bloods again to make sure my levels went back to zero. They had.
All I really remember was just crying. Crying a lot. I was so sad/mad/pissed/everything else! I want nothing more in this world than to have a baby. I finally got pregnant, and then my dream was shattered. I was so angry.
In retrospect, we probably shouldn't have tried so soon after the traumatic experience of Aaron being hurt. But Aaron and I are the "want what we want when we want it" kind of people.
Even though we miscarried, we were given the green light to try again right away....
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Taking Control...
I am officially taking control of my fertility.
I've suffered through three miscarriages in the last 9 months. A subject matter that I will delve into when I feel up to it.
But for right now, NO MORE! I hated my last doctor. She didn't provide me with any answers or even a sympathetic smile. So I have moved on from her and am seeing another OBGYN to figure out what the heck's wrong with my body. I'm just sick of not knowing what's going on. It's MY body, and I have a right to know.
The reason for all of this is that I am an avid Babycenter.com blogger, and all the ladies there seemed to all have the same advice for me-get a new doctor! And they are right. I read all of their stories and they all know what's going on with their bodies, and here I am just sitting and listening to my doctor like a good little girl.
The appointment is on September 8th. Aaron will be back by then, and hopefully he will be able to go with me. I still am not comfortable with blood and needles. Though, with fertility trouble, I suppose I will have to get used to it. But for now, I need Aaron's goofy humor while being stuck with those needles.
I've suffered through three miscarriages in the last 9 months. A subject matter that I will delve into when I feel up to it.
But for right now, NO MORE! I hated my last doctor. She didn't provide me with any answers or even a sympathetic smile. So I have moved on from her and am seeing another OBGYN to figure out what the heck's wrong with my body. I'm just sick of not knowing what's going on. It's MY body, and I have a right to know.
The reason for all of this is that I am an avid Babycenter.com blogger, and all the ladies there seemed to all have the same advice for me-get a new doctor! And they are right. I read all of their stories and they all know what's going on with their bodies, and here I am just sitting and listening to my doctor like a good little girl.
The appointment is on September 8th. Aaron will be back by then, and hopefully he will be able to go with me. I still am not comfortable with blood and needles. Though, with fertility trouble, I suppose I will have to get used to it. But for now, I need Aaron's goofy humor while being stuck with those needles.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Salty
Sometimes, I forget how seasoned of a military wife I am. Though I have only been through 3 years of Aaron's 4 in the Marine Corps so far, I would consider myself, "salty". I have been through more in 3 years than anyone should have to go through in their whole married lives. Two deployments and one big injury. My husband continues to move up in rank, and I find myself forgetting that I need to move with him. But then again, I don't really buy into the whole "military family" thing. I did for a time, when I was just his girlfriend. I had "Marine Girlfriend" plastered all over my myspace page. But now, that is just not something I would do. I never got into the "let's all get together and knit things because we are all marine wives!" club. I kept in touch with a lot of other wives, but overall, I don't like being labeled a "Marine Wife". I am just simply "Aaron's Wife". Though, don't get me wrong, I am very proud that God built especially me to be a part of this uncertain military life. And I am very proud of Aaron and what he does.
What I am trying to say, is that I want to lead a normal life, and not a branded life. Do you see what I am saying? I'm not sure I even do.
The whole reason I started this post was to say that Aaron is away for three weeks up north training with his unit. Seven months away, I can do. It gets easier as time passes. Couple days away: It's kinda like a break. It's just some good alone time. But three weeks! Three weeks just sucks. It's not long, so you can't get used to it because the end is very near in sight. You would think that because I am "salty" that it would be cake having him gone. But this is the longest he has been gone since he came back from Afghanistan. And considering the last long length of time he was gone, he got seriously injured, I have a hard time being away from him for any period of time.
These three weeks are dragging on!
What I am trying to say, is that I want to lead a normal life, and not a branded life. Do you see what I am saying? I'm not sure I even do.
The whole reason I started this post was to say that Aaron is away for three weeks up north training with his unit. Seven months away, I can do. It gets easier as time passes. Couple days away: It's kinda like a break. It's just some good alone time. But three weeks! Three weeks just sucks. It's not long, so you can't get used to it because the end is very near in sight. You would think that because I am "salty" that it would be cake having him gone. But this is the longest he has been gone since he came back from Afghanistan. And considering the last long length of time he was gone, he got seriously injured, I have a hard time being away from him for any period of time.
These three weeks are dragging on!
Windows
Writing all of this out creates a window into my stubborn brain.
Reading over my last post made me realize some things about myself. I always knew that the events that happened over those 4 weeks made me a little clingy towards Aaron. But I never knew why. I now understand that because there were constantly nurses, doctors, family, friends, more nurses, and just people in general around us all day every day that I am so clingy. All I wanted was to be alone with Aaron. Just us. To be free to do whatever we wanted. And all anyone ever wanted to do was talk about it, talk about it, and talk about it. I was scared of it. I am still scared of it. That's probably why I don't like talking about it...I'm afraid of it. Every where I go, I feel like a have this ball and chain attached to my ankle. I drag this weight, this story around with me every where I go. And if I try to run away from it, it follows me.
Today, I was at the Sawdust Festival in Laguna Beach with my mom, and there was an artist there that makes these really cheesy little clay people. She happened to have been making little clay Marines in their Blues as we walked into her little booth. She was putting hair on their little heads, which I though was odd because most shave it off or have a fade. So I commented, and we started to chat about it and how my husband just shaves his head every weekend. Her interest was peaked, and she began asking other questions about our military life. Just small talk. And as we walked away, she said to me, "good luck with your husband! Hopefully he wont have to go overseas!" I merely said, "Thank you" and smiled. But inside, I was thinking, "Lady, you don't know the half of it". It just frustrates me when people are not educated on the "going ons" of the current wars. And it frustrates me that all I can do is smile and walk away when someone says something to me like that. It's as if I have a dark secret that is too hard and complicated to tell.
Even now, people hear the story, but they don't really hear it.
Reading over my last post made me realize some things about myself. I always knew that the events that happened over those 4 weeks made me a little clingy towards Aaron. But I never knew why. I now understand that because there were constantly nurses, doctors, family, friends, more nurses, and just people in general around us all day every day that I am so clingy. All I wanted was to be alone with Aaron. Just us. To be free to do whatever we wanted. And all anyone ever wanted to do was talk about it, talk about it, and talk about it. I was scared of it. I am still scared of it. That's probably why I don't like talking about it...I'm afraid of it. Every where I go, I feel like a have this ball and chain attached to my ankle. I drag this weight, this story around with me every where I go. And if I try to run away from it, it follows me.
Today, I was at the Sawdust Festival in Laguna Beach with my mom, and there was an artist there that makes these really cheesy little clay people. She happened to have been making little clay Marines in their Blues as we walked into her little booth. She was putting hair on their little heads, which I though was odd because most shave it off or have a fade. So I commented, and we started to chat about it and how my husband just shaves his head every weekend. Her interest was peaked, and she began asking other questions about our military life. Just small talk. And as we walked away, she said to me, "good luck with your husband! Hopefully he wont have to go overseas!" I merely said, "Thank you" and smiled. But inside, I was thinking, "Lady, you don't know the half of it". It just frustrates me when people are not educated on the "going ons" of the current wars. And it frustrates me that all I can do is smile and walk away when someone says something to me like that. It's as if I have a dark secret that is too hard and complicated to tell.
Even now, people hear the story, but they don't really hear it.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
New Blog. Very different topics.
Well I have another blog. You can view it here. My other blog is about the adventures my husband and I go on throughout our lives as a married couple. It's very happy and "picturey". While my life is happy, there are aspects of it that are not. So I felt like I needed to create a blog for that. Though, this blog will only be shown to certain people. I am an open person, but I want to treat this blog more like a diary. And you wouldn't share your diary with everyone would you?
I will start with what I know. And this is where I know it all started...
Up until the moment that I got the call that my husband had been shot and was in critical condition in the most dangerous part of Afghanistan, my life had been pretty care free. My parents never divorced. Almost happened, but it never did. And I am glad for that. I am one of the only people I know that didn't live in a broken home, and that helped shape me into the person I am today. Anyway, I was a B sometimes C student, but overall, I liked school and loved my friends. I played sports all my life and have lived in Orange County forever. I babysat the neighbors kids until I became a server at a 40's style diner. I dated a little bit in college, and then at some point, I met the man that I would eventually be married to. We were like magnets. Nothing could keep us apart. It doesn't matter what the universe did to us, we knew we would always be together. The first day I met him, I knew.
We got married, and we had a WONDERFUL first year of marriage. We were just two innocent kids with our whole lives in front of us. In May 2009, my Aaron left for Afghanistan. On September 25th, 2009 just three weeks after our one year wedding anniversary, I got a call at 5 am from the Marine Corps Headquarters stating that Aaron had been shot by the enemy. The bullet went through the back of his left arm, in and out of his left lung and stopped in his chest cavity surrounded by his major arteries. His left lung had collapsed, and was barely alive. I cannot fully describe the sheer terror and sadness that enveloped me at that moment. All I could do was drop to the floor and cry. My world came crashing down and all I could do was wait for more information. He was an entire world away from me, and there was nothing I could do. He was stable enough a few hours later to call me. He sounded so weak on the phone. And that is a weird phenomenon. This is a man, a strong man who takes care of me and is there for me at the drop of a dime. He would do and has done anything and everything for me. He is a leader among his peers and a loving/caring person at home. So to hear the strain in his voice was hard. But I was reassured. He was going to be ok. Still, that was the hardest and worst day of my life. I wanted to crumble, yet, I had to be strong for everyone else-my family and Aaron's family. I was the point of contact for basically everyone. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep until everything was over, but I guess God had other plans. The next week was hard. I actually mustered up the courage to go into work because I knew I would be taking some time off. But that week was quite literally the longest week of my life. Health wise, Aaron was up and down. One day he would be fine, the next day I find out his chest tube had been accidentally pulled out or kinked or the box itself had been knocked over all by incompetent nurses and doctors. He flew to Germany, which was a big feat for someone who was in such critical condition. But I was relieved knowing that he was no longer in a dangerous war zone.
Finally, Friday arrived and I was all packed and ready to go to Bethesda, Maryland where Aaron would be flying into. I was SOOOOOOOO excited. I hadn't seen Aaron in almost four and a half months. But then on the way to the airport, I got a call that Aaron had spiked a fever and was not to fly that day. I was more pissed than anything. The lady on the phone said they would change my flight to sunday, which is when he would now be flying out. And I put my foot down and said, "no, I'm flying today". I didn't care if Aaron wasn't going to be there for another 2 days, I wanted to already be there when he arrived. Then as I was waiting to board, I got a call from Aaron. I asked him how his fever was and he said, "what fever?" I told him what they told me and he said that he was on the plane ready to go and someone accidentally unkinked his chest tube, thus, making air escape out of his lungs which makes it collapse again. That means, SOME ASSHOLE TRIED TO COVER THEIR ASS BY LYING AND STATING THAT HE SPIKED A FEVER. So he couldn't fly that day because his lung was in an unstable condition again.
Well, I got on the flight and flew to Bethesda to wait for him to get there on Sunday. I met up with my mother-in-law and my father-in-law at the hotel we were staying at on the base in bethesda where Aaron's hospital would be. We decided that we shouldn't just sit around all day (saturday) because that would have made the wait worse, so we toured D.C. It was nice, but it would have been nicer if Aaron was touring it with us. That was kind of hard. I felt a little guilty that he was lying in a hospital bed and I was taking a leisurely stroll through Washington D.C.
Aaron's dad, Ralf, told us that he wanted to decorate the room for when Aaron got there, and he wanted to film everything. I was a little unsure of this, and didn't really agree that that was what we should be doing. This was not a celebration, and I really didn't want it to be documented on film. It's not really anything that I would want to watch over again in 30 years. The memories are vivid enough. I don't need film to remind me of how he looked when I first walked into that room and saw his face for the first time. I remember. I decided that I would tell Aaron his dad's plans the next time he called. Aaron gave me a resounding NO. No to all of it. So I had to stick up for my husband. First Aaron's mom, Jan, gave Ralf a call to tell him what Aaron wanted. He was very defensive and basically said he was doing it. So I called him and told him that he was not to do any of it because that is what Aaron wanted. This was about Aaron, not Ralf. I also dropped the bomb on him that I wanted to go into the room first and be with him a few minutes before both Ralf and Jan came it. He became even more hostile and said, "whatever! You do what you want!" That kind of set the tone between Ralf and I. And it's still that way. He's a stubborn man, and if he wants to live that way, then be my guest.
When Sunday finally rolled around, we were so ready to see Aaron. The marines that were helping us told us they would call when he was here. They gave us the option to come see him as he was being unloaded from the ambulance. Jan and I opted out of that. Just not something that I wanted to see. Too many people around, I guess. I just wanted him to myself. Ralf went, as you may have guessed. And he filmed it. He even got to ride the elevator up to Aaron's room in the ICU. It didn't bother me at first that he did that. It actually didn't bother me up until a month or so ago. I wanted to see him first. I am his wife! A son leaves his mother and fathers house to be married, and I feel that that was/is my right to have seen him first. I am his number one as he is mine. But Ralf is a selfish man. That's all I have to say about that.
Then, several hours later, I FINALLY got to see my husband. Since he had come back from a foreign country and may have carried over disease, we had to wear ugly yellow hospital gowns and gloves. So it covered up my ultra cute outfit. But I showed him anyways. AND I took off those stupid gloves. I didn't care. I just wanted to feel his hand in mine. Actually, I fought with the nurses all week about those dumb gloves and gowns. I refused to wear them. I guess since the situation was so out of my control, that was the only thing I COULD control. So I was not about to conform to some policy that covered up my cute outfits that I wore for my husband.
Anyway, I stayed strong. I didn't cry. Both Aaron and I were surprised at that. If you know me, then you know that I cry a lot. But Aaron finds it endearing. Aaron was moved out of the ICU the next day and was taken to a more permanent room in a different ward. The Surgical Ward I believe. We all spent the day with Aaron. Just chatting. It wasn't until after Jan and Ralf left for the night that I finally cried into Aaron's shoulder. The ICU wasn't private. The room was wide open to a plethora of nurses and doctors. This new room was quite and closed and it was just us. So I finally broke down. I have cried in front of and on Aaron dozens of times, but I will never forget that cry. I had been his rock all week, and when I was finally able to be alone with MY rock, I was able to be the weak one for a little bit. I let it all out. I think he was a little taken aback because it came on so suddenly.
All week, Aaron continued to get stronger. He started walking little by little, and we even took a couple little trips outside of the hospital and into the city towards the end of his stay in the hospital. His breathing was getting much better too. I took care of him in any way that I could. Water runs, food runs, movie runs. Just tried to make him laugh and to keep him comfy because there wasn't much I could do, medically speaking. There was one day when I was leaving his room to get something, and I, for once, had a gown on. And before I left, I ripped the gown off very dramatically and gave my best Hulk impression, "YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY!!" Aaron laughed so hard, and watching him laugh and hearing his laugh made my heart sing. There are so many things now that I don't take for granted; Aaron's laugh being one of them.
Aaron received many visitors. From high ranking service members from all different branches of the US military to old war vets to various different organizations. Mid-week, he received his Purple Heart from the Commandant of the Marine Corps. That was a very special day. We even got famous visitors! Trace Adkins, the bad guy in Terminator 2, and Miss America all visited together. That was pretty neat. Though, I had absolutely NO idea who any of them were, Aaron did and he was smiling and laughing and that's all I cared about. Towards the end of the week, Aaron had received so many visitors, he was a little burnt out. He explained to his dad that he did not want him telling the story to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that walked in the room. Long story short, the next visitor that came in, Ralf told the story, and him and Aaron got into an argument over it. The next day, Ralf left. REALLY mature. The entire week Ralf was complaining about how much money he was missing out on by skipping work, and that his back hurt. So he ended up seeing a physical therapist at the hospital there. But from my point of view, SUCK IT UP. STOP BEING A LITTLE BABY AND BE AN ADULT. This is about AARON.
A few days later, after both Ralf and Jan had left, Aaron was released from the hospital. He was not cleared to fly so we drove 9 hours to Indiana, where Aaron is from, in a pretty nice rental car. You would think that being cooped up in a small car with only one other person would be hell, but to us, it was bliss. We talked, sang, laughed. We saw the beautiful mountains and trees as the leaves were turing for fall. We stopped after about 6 or 7 hours to stay in the grossest motel I have ever seen. But when you have been away from someone for so long, a dirty motel turns into a five star hotel. It was the first night we had spent together in a long long time. Sometimes I think we take for granted the fact that we get to sleep with our significant other in the same bed every night, let alone be in the same state or even county as them. I know that that is something I NEVER take for granted. When I say my prayers at night, I thank the Lord that he is lying right next to me.
Anyway, we spent the next two weeks in Indiana so that Aaron could see his family and friends. To say that we relaxed would be a lie. It was hard on both of us to have non stop company. To be quite honest, I don't really remember those two weeks. It was a blur. I just remember there being a lot of people around, and that I just wanted the noise to stop. I wanted to forget. I wanted to go home, and I wanted to take Aaron with me. Aaron had to do a few outpatient visits to the nearby VA Hospital, and then they cleared him to fly. So after two weeks was over, we were finally on our way home to California. My family picked us up from the airport, and the car ride home was full of wonderment and questions and general happiness. Even though it was my own family, I was in need to be home in our apartment. Alone with Aaron. While we were gone, my family had moved us to our new apartment. So we had a whole new place. A nicer bigger place. We had a lot of unpacking to do, but I don't think either of us cared. We were in our home surrounded by our stuff, and it just felt good. We could finally settle down.
But that was the beginning to a private bumpy road ahead. The worst was passed us, yes, but the coming months were hard underneath the happiness of having him home.
I will start with what I know. And this is where I know it all started...
Up until the moment that I got the call that my husband had been shot and was in critical condition in the most dangerous part of Afghanistan, my life had been pretty care free. My parents never divorced. Almost happened, but it never did. And I am glad for that. I am one of the only people I know that didn't live in a broken home, and that helped shape me into the person I am today. Anyway, I was a B sometimes C student, but overall, I liked school and loved my friends. I played sports all my life and have lived in Orange County forever. I babysat the neighbors kids until I became a server at a 40's style diner. I dated a little bit in college, and then at some point, I met the man that I would eventually be married to. We were like magnets. Nothing could keep us apart. It doesn't matter what the universe did to us, we knew we would always be together. The first day I met him, I knew.
We got married, and we had a WONDERFUL first year of marriage. We were just two innocent kids with our whole lives in front of us. In May 2009, my Aaron left for Afghanistan. On September 25th, 2009 just three weeks after our one year wedding anniversary, I got a call at 5 am from the Marine Corps Headquarters stating that Aaron had been shot by the enemy. The bullet went through the back of his left arm, in and out of his left lung and stopped in his chest cavity surrounded by his major arteries. His left lung had collapsed, and was barely alive. I cannot fully describe the sheer terror and sadness that enveloped me at that moment. All I could do was drop to the floor and cry. My world came crashing down and all I could do was wait for more information. He was an entire world away from me, and there was nothing I could do. He was stable enough a few hours later to call me. He sounded so weak on the phone. And that is a weird phenomenon. This is a man, a strong man who takes care of me and is there for me at the drop of a dime. He would do and has done anything and everything for me. He is a leader among his peers and a loving/caring person at home. So to hear the strain in his voice was hard. But I was reassured. He was going to be ok. Still, that was the hardest and worst day of my life. I wanted to crumble, yet, I had to be strong for everyone else-my family and Aaron's family. I was the point of contact for basically everyone. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep until everything was over, but I guess God had other plans. The next week was hard. I actually mustered up the courage to go into work because I knew I would be taking some time off. But that week was quite literally the longest week of my life. Health wise, Aaron was up and down. One day he would be fine, the next day I find out his chest tube had been accidentally pulled out or kinked or the box itself had been knocked over all by incompetent nurses and doctors. He flew to Germany, which was a big feat for someone who was in such critical condition. But I was relieved knowing that he was no longer in a dangerous war zone.
Finally, Friday arrived and I was all packed and ready to go to Bethesda, Maryland where Aaron would be flying into. I was SOOOOOOOO excited. I hadn't seen Aaron in almost four and a half months. But then on the way to the airport, I got a call that Aaron had spiked a fever and was not to fly that day. I was more pissed than anything. The lady on the phone said they would change my flight to sunday, which is when he would now be flying out. And I put my foot down and said, "no, I'm flying today". I didn't care if Aaron wasn't going to be there for another 2 days, I wanted to already be there when he arrived. Then as I was waiting to board, I got a call from Aaron. I asked him how his fever was and he said, "what fever?" I told him what they told me and he said that he was on the plane ready to go and someone accidentally unkinked his chest tube, thus, making air escape out of his lungs which makes it collapse again. That means, SOME ASSHOLE TRIED TO COVER THEIR ASS BY LYING AND STATING THAT HE SPIKED A FEVER. So he couldn't fly that day because his lung was in an unstable condition again.
Well, I got on the flight and flew to Bethesda to wait for him to get there on Sunday. I met up with my mother-in-law and my father-in-law at the hotel we were staying at on the base in bethesda where Aaron's hospital would be. We decided that we shouldn't just sit around all day (saturday) because that would have made the wait worse, so we toured D.C. It was nice, but it would have been nicer if Aaron was touring it with us. That was kind of hard. I felt a little guilty that he was lying in a hospital bed and I was taking a leisurely stroll through Washington D.C.
Aaron's dad, Ralf, told us that he wanted to decorate the room for when Aaron got there, and he wanted to film everything. I was a little unsure of this, and didn't really agree that that was what we should be doing. This was not a celebration, and I really didn't want it to be documented on film. It's not really anything that I would want to watch over again in 30 years. The memories are vivid enough. I don't need film to remind me of how he looked when I first walked into that room and saw his face for the first time. I remember. I decided that I would tell Aaron his dad's plans the next time he called. Aaron gave me a resounding NO. No to all of it. So I had to stick up for my husband. First Aaron's mom, Jan, gave Ralf a call to tell him what Aaron wanted. He was very defensive and basically said he was doing it. So I called him and told him that he was not to do any of it because that is what Aaron wanted. This was about Aaron, not Ralf. I also dropped the bomb on him that I wanted to go into the room first and be with him a few minutes before both Ralf and Jan came it. He became even more hostile and said, "whatever! You do what you want!" That kind of set the tone between Ralf and I. And it's still that way. He's a stubborn man, and if he wants to live that way, then be my guest.
When Sunday finally rolled around, we were so ready to see Aaron. The marines that were helping us told us they would call when he was here. They gave us the option to come see him as he was being unloaded from the ambulance. Jan and I opted out of that. Just not something that I wanted to see. Too many people around, I guess. I just wanted him to myself. Ralf went, as you may have guessed. And he filmed it. He even got to ride the elevator up to Aaron's room in the ICU. It didn't bother me at first that he did that. It actually didn't bother me up until a month or so ago. I wanted to see him first. I am his wife! A son leaves his mother and fathers house to be married, and I feel that that was/is my right to have seen him first. I am his number one as he is mine. But Ralf is a selfish man. That's all I have to say about that.
Then, several hours later, I FINALLY got to see my husband. Since he had come back from a foreign country and may have carried over disease, we had to wear ugly yellow hospital gowns and gloves. So it covered up my ultra cute outfit. But I showed him anyways. AND I took off those stupid gloves. I didn't care. I just wanted to feel his hand in mine. Actually, I fought with the nurses all week about those dumb gloves and gowns. I refused to wear them. I guess since the situation was so out of my control, that was the only thing I COULD control. So I was not about to conform to some policy that covered up my cute outfits that I wore for my husband.
Anyway, I stayed strong. I didn't cry. Both Aaron and I were surprised at that. If you know me, then you know that I cry a lot. But Aaron finds it endearing. Aaron was moved out of the ICU the next day and was taken to a more permanent room in a different ward. The Surgical Ward I believe. We all spent the day with Aaron. Just chatting. It wasn't until after Jan and Ralf left for the night that I finally cried into Aaron's shoulder. The ICU wasn't private. The room was wide open to a plethora of nurses and doctors. This new room was quite and closed and it was just us. So I finally broke down. I have cried in front of and on Aaron dozens of times, but I will never forget that cry. I had been his rock all week, and when I was finally able to be alone with MY rock, I was able to be the weak one for a little bit. I let it all out. I think he was a little taken aback because it came on so suddenly.
All week, Aaron continued to get stronger. He started walking little by little, and we even took a couple little trips outside of the hospital and into the city towards the end of his stay in the hospital. His breathing was getting much better too. I took care of him in any way that I could. Water runs, food runs, movie runs. Just tried to make him laugh and to keep him comfy because there wasn't much I could do, medically speaking. There was one day when I was leaving his room to get something, and I, for once, had a gown on. And before I left, I ripped the gown off very dramatically and gave my best Hulk impression, "YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY!!" Aaron laughed so hard, and watching him laugh and hearing his laugh made my heart sing. There are so many things now that I don't take for granted; Aaron's laugh being one of them.
Aaron received many visitors. From high ranking service members from all different branches of the US military to old war vets to various different organizations. Mid-week, he received his Purple Heart from the Commandant of the Marine Corps. That was a very special day. We even got famous visitors! Trace Adkins, the bad guy in Terminator 2, and Miss America all visited together. That was pretty neat. Though, I had absolutely NO idea who any of them were, Aaron did and he was smiling and laughing and that's all I cared about. Towards the end of the week, Aaron had received so many visitors, he was a little burnt out. He explained to his dad that he did not want him telling the story to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that walked in the room. Long story short, the next visitor that came in, Ralf told the story, and him and Aaron got into an argument over it. The next day, Ralf left. REALLY mature. The entire week Ralf was complaining about how much money he was missing out on by skipping work, and that his back hurt. So he ended up seeing a physical therapist at the hospital there. But from my point of view, SUCK IT UP. STOP BEING A LITTLE BABY AND BE AN ADULT. This is about AARON.
A few days later, after both Ralf and Jan had left, Aaron was released from the hospital. He was not cleared to fly so we drove 9 hours to Indiana, where Aaron is from, in a pretty nice rental car. You would think that being cooped up in a small car with only one other person would be hell, but to us, it was bliss. We talked, sang, laughed. We saw the beautiful mountains and trees as the leaves were turing for fall. We stopped after about 6 or 7 hours to stay in the grossest motel I have ever seen. But when you have been away from someone for so long, a dirty motel turns into a five star hotel. It was the first night we had spent together in a long long time. Sometimes I think we take for granted the fact that we get to sleep with our significant other in the same bed every night, let alone be in the same state or even county as them. I know that that is something I NEVER take for granted. When I say my prayers at night, I thank the Lord that he is lying right next to me.
Anyway, we spent the next two weeks in Indiana so that Aaron could see his family and friends. To say that we relaxed would be a lie. It was hard on both of us to have non stop company. To be quite honest, I don't really remember those two weeks. It was a blur. I just remember there being a lot of people around, and that I just wanted the noise to stop. I wanted to forget. I wanted to go home, and I wanted to take Aaron with me. Aaron had to do a few outpatient visits to the nearby VA Hospital, and then they cleared him to fly. So after two weeks was over, we were finally on our way home to California. My family picked us up from the airport, and the car ride home was full of wonderment and questions and general happiness. Even though it was my own family, I was in need to be home in our apartment. Alone with Aaron. While we were gone, my family had moved us to our new apartment. So we had a whole new place. A nicer bigger place. We had a lot of unpacking to do, but I don't think either of us cared. We were in our home surrounded by our stuff, and it just felt good. We could finally settle down.
But that was the beginning to a private bumpy road ahead. The worst was passed us, yes, but the coming months were hard underneath the happiness of having him home.
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