He is with me...

Psalm 23:1-6  A Psalm of David. The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

So, here I sit, alone with my thoughts. This situation can lead to good or bad, but I'm going to trust that the feelings I have are for a reason. As of six this morning, it was just Bryson and myself here at home. Kaylee left for the beach, and Gene left for Big Spring. I am never a fan of being alone. I have feared it my entire life. I'm the face of bravery on any ordinary day, but when my family is on either side of the State of Texas, doors get locked! Noises become more noticable, dark becomes darker, and my imagination goes into overdrive. Voices on the phone bring temporary comfort, but eventually, you have to say goodbye, and there you sit - alone, again. This is how I have been feeling this evening, and since I have three more days before my loved ones return home, I decided that I needed to find a better way to deal with my loneliness! I began to think of what bible verse would best lead me along the right path, and I stumbled upon one of the most recognizable verses that fit the situation perfectly - Psalm 23:1-6. I immediately felt ridiculous for even thinking that I am alone. He is with me....always. The devil may lurk in the dark corners, but the Lord will make sure I am never in complete darkness, fore he is my light.

I will need God's light to get me through the next few days. There is more darkness looming in the coming days than that which comes from being lonely. May 27th...it's a day that I don't think will ever be the same for me. It is the day our sweet baby was due to come into this world, and if she'd been born on that day, she would be turning one this year. Perhaps, this is why God led me to stay home this weekend with my baby boy. Perhaps, Bryson is my light that leads me from the darkness of my loss. I pray that May 27th comes and goes, without tears this time. I can hold tight to my baby boy and have faith that I will meet my sweet angel someday in the future.

Dear Lord,

I pray to you in hopes that you can bring me through the darkness.

I pray that you watch over my loved ones, and bring them home safely.

I pray that you continue to give me the strength, knowledge and understanding it takes to be a good mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend.

Thank you for your blessings you have bestowed upon me and my loved ones.

Thank you for giving me only what I can handle - even when I don't think I can.

Thank you for the challenges you make me face because they make me a better person.

Thank you for being with me always!

Amen

All things are possible, and I am never alone. He is with me...

Love and blessings,

Jessie

This is Where the Cowboy Rides Away...

My son will never meet the man from whom he got his middle name. This was one of the first thoughts that crossed my mind today when Gene called me to tell me that his dad had died.

Gene Laroy Leonard passed away at some point this week....alone. When Gene could not reach him for their weekly phonecall this afternoon, he called his brother, Justin, to go check on him. Justin was at work, but he sent his fiance, Chelsea, to go see if he was okay. She found his lifeless body, and I'll leave it at that. We have no way of knowing what day he passed. Justin had been by to bring him groceries on Sunday, and that was the last contact anyone had with him that we are aware of. He left this world alone, and I can only pray that Jesus was there to take his weary hand in his last moments.

Gene was not a sweetheart, but he had his own way of loving us all. Most of you know that he battled cancer for the past six or seven years of his life. He endured radiation, chemotherapy, and a grueling surgery. The doctors had no idea how he survived all of that, but anyone who knows him can tell you it was because he was just "pretty damn stubborn." The cancer was stubborn, too, and it came back in his lungs and his skin. He had it removed, but chose to not go through any further treatment. He survived liver failure just over a year ago. He spent the past months in pain. Recently, his sight was even failing him, so much so, that he was no longer able to drive safely. The last of his joys....stolen from him.

Gene loved riding his motorcycle. After surviving his first round with cancer, he added a trike kit to his Honda Valkerie because he was too weak to ride it the other way. I remember the day he got on it and the way his face lit up at the prospect of getting to go on another big ride. He never got that chance, but he did manage to ride it around Big Spring when the temperature was warm enough.

Gene loved to come visit us. He loved to sit on the backporch and watch the deer move about. He had a special relationship with Kaylee that I never imagined he would have. He would tell you the same stories...over and over again. I would always make him something he enjoyed to eat like fried porkchops and mashed potatoes! He didn't have any teeth because the cancer took his jawbone, so food was not always easy to enjoy for him. I'd get a good three or four pounds on him during his stays, though!

When I met Gene, he was a crane operator. He would tell you everything you wanted to know and even more that you didn't about cranes! One of the first things he ever said to me was, "Man, your a big girl, aren't you?!!" So sweet...I know! That was him. He drank and smoked...well...until the cancer took that from him, too. I liked the friendlier sober Gene, but I longed for that guy that I met just years earlier that would run around in a pancho hitting on all the young ladies! He took me on my first trip across the border. I drank margaritas with him in Acuna at Crosby's, and yes, even went with him up "the hill" to get my first "boystown" experience. I still remember when our taxi pulled up, we got out and the bouncers greeted Gene by name along with big smiles and handshakes. This was the man I would call my father-in-law, someday! When my Gene graduated from Texas A&M, his dad was the one that partied too much and nearly got hauled off to jail because of an open container in the vehicle. He streaked in bars, he bought his whiskey by the box and smoked his cigarettes by the carton. He was a 21 year old in a 50 something year old body! He was crazy...

Gene Laroy Leonard was born to Dixie and Leroy Leonard. He took dance as a child. He raced dirtbikes in his youth. He took drugs. He hung out with Willie Nelson's brother. If it was dangerous, he was up for it! He married his high school sweetheart, Linda, and they had his first child...his daughter, Sonya. They later divorced, and he married again, to a woman named Dixie. Dixie wasn't sweet like his mother, though, and they divorced. Then, they remarried. Then....they divorced again. It must not have been a nice one, either, because she was driving her vehicle up to his work to run him over, so he took his crane and dropped a beam or something on her truck. Don't worry...he didn't kill Dixie. Cancer took her before he had the chance. He, later, ran into a waitress in town named Juanita. She was married at the time, but it's my understanding that her husband wasn't very nice to her. Gene told her that he'd take care of her, so she divorced, and Gene and Juanita got married. Together, they had two boys. My Gene was the oldest, and Justin came along a few years later. This marriage didn't make it either, though, and they divorced after many years of marriage. Gene and his first born had a very close relationship. Justin's relationship with him was more complicated, but I think...or at least hope...that it had mended itself in the last couple of years. I can't speak for Gene's relationship with his daughter. I can say that he told me on more occasions than I can count that he loved all of his kids. He told me this past year that he knew he had messed up in the past, and if he knew how to fix it, he would have. He figured it was too late, though.

My Gene and his dad had a special bond. My Gene told me that it was partially because he had to take care of his dad at such a young age. I saw this, myself, when I first met Gene. His dad would get so drunk he couldn't stand, so Gene would get him home and help him to bed. One of the hardest parts of their relationship was when my Gene left to go to Texas A&M. This meant that his boy, the one he depended on for everything, wouldn't be there anymore. He was jealous of me when we started dating because I took even more attention away from him. In a lot of ways, he was like a little kid. Once I showed him that I loved him, too, and I wasn't going anywhere, our relationship got much better. Still, I know that he missed riding motorcycles down to Del Rio with is son. The last ride they took together down there was in 2003. Still, he had the memories and stories to tell about all of the wild times they had together throughout the years. George Strait has a song called "Cowboys Like Us."
         "...Cowboys like us sure do have fun, racing the wind, chasing the sun, take the long way around, back to square one, today we'll be outlaws out on the run, There'll be no regrets, no worries and such, Cowboys like us..."
The first time I heard it, it made me picture the two of them riding their "steal horses" to Mexico. It's a nice memory!

Gene left behind two living ex-wives, Linda and Juanita. I think both of them still loved him in some way, as I know he loved them. He left behind three children, Sonya, Gene and Justin. He left behind six grandchildren: Brandon, Sumer, Brittneigh, Kaylee, Bryson and Khynlyn. He left behind greatgrandchildren: Braeden, Braxton and Madeline. He never had the chance to meet Madeline or Bryson, but I hope those who did get to meet him can remember enough good things to tell them about him someday. I told Kaylee that she needs to try to remember every good thing she can remember about her Papa Gene to tell Bryson all about him when he gets older. We'll save the juicy stuff for a later date!

I don't think it's fully hit me that he is not here with us anymore. I hope God found a special place in heaven for him, though, because even if he didn't live a very clean life and probably did a lot of things to earn him a spot in a much warmer place, I believe that the good man that I got to know these past few years was always there. I pray he had a chance to ask for God's grace in his final moments. I pray that he is at peace and no longer in pain. The cancer took so much away from him, and that was punishment enough. Please, God, accept him into your loving arms. Please forgive him so that we all get the chance to see him again someday when our time comes.

So, that's it, in a nutshell. I can't stop shedding tears for this man that I once couldn't stand to be around. He grabbed a big ol' piece of my heart while I got to know him, though, and that part is aching now. I'm going to do my best to remember him...the good and the bad...and when I picture him in my mind, I will see him on a bright, shiny red honda motorcycle, headed off into the sunset... This is where the cowboy rides away.

Whoa!!!!

I know, it's been quite awhile since I have posted a new blog. At this very moment, I have my six week old baby boy resting on my chest. It makes typing a bit more difficult, but he's demanding like that!

The past six weeks have flown by, and my response for that is, "Whoa!!!" Of course, there are a few things I don't mind saying goodbye to like the sleepless nights where Bryson was waking up every hour and a half to eat, the emotional rollercoaster of post partum hormones, and breastfeeding.

Let's take this week by week.

Week 1: While thrilled to finally have my baby boy home, I felt like a new mom, again. Being that Bryson was born on a Wednesday, Gene was already back to work that Friday, leaving me with both kids for the first time. Kaylee was unhappy that Bryson was taking so much time away from her, and she didn't understand why he cried so much. Let me tell you, we did our best to prepare her, but I'm afraid it was a waste of time. On a positive note, I was down 20 pounds by the end of that first week! I tried to remain positive that the next week would be easier.

Week 2: It was during week two that I felt the post-partum depression rear it's ugly head. It seemed that nothing I did pleased either child of mine. One day, Gene came home to find me breastfeeding and bawling my head off. I was just so tired, Kaylee was at the top of her ornery stage, and Bryson was colicky. The stress was getting to me, and I started gaining weight back very quickly. Bryson had his two week checkup this week, and he was down a pound from his birth weight. I hadn't been able to make enough milk to please him, so we had to begin supplementing with formula. It just seemed that nothing was going as planned. To friends and family, I did my best to put on my "everything is wonderful" face, but inside, the sadness was eating away at me.

Week 3: After two weeks without sleeping more than a two hour stretch of time, I was beginning to lose it. Since we were supplementing, now, this meant Gene could take care of Bryson for a night to help me out. I thought, "Just a night or two of sleep will make it all better." Unfortunately, Gene was was so cranky after one night with him, that I had to take him back the second night. I told him it was much easier to deal with my own grouchy attitude than to deal with his. The last thing our family needed was four cranky people! This week, Bryson had a weight check at the doctor's office, and we got some good news that he was finally thriving with the addition of formula! Finally, some good news!

Week 4: At this point, things were finally starting to mesh at home. Kaylee had finally realized that sharing us wouldn't be the end of the world. It probably didn't hurt that most of our weekends were centered around her dance competitions the past four weeks. I was able to do more for her now that I wasn't breastfeeding as much, too. Bryson had his four week checkup, and he was finally the size of an average newborn. His only issue was that he wasn't pooping without stimulation. We decided to change formula to see if it helped with that problem.

Week 5: That weekend, we took Bryson to meet one of his great-grandmothers, went out to eat in San Antonio, and took Kaylee to get her t-ball equipment. That Sunday, Omie and Opie came to the house for a visit, and Bryson let loose on Opie some awful diarrhea! We didn't think much of it, since he had started going on his own since we changed the formula. I figured he may have been reacting to that or something that he got through my breastmilk. That Monday, I had to get some recalls repaired on my car, so we went to Boerne and took care of that. We swung by the Rim to pick up a couple items we needed, and then we went to eat at Olive Garden. Bryson's diarrhea had continued throughout that day, so I called the doctor's office to see what she thought. She suggested switching him to soy formula. I was already at home for the day, so I planned on picking some up the following day. That night, when Bryson awoke that early morning for feeding, he was very warm. I took his temperature, and he was running a fever of just over 101. I gave him Tylenol, fed and changed him, and put him back to bed. When he awoke that morning, his fever was up to 102.6. He wasn't acting like his normal self, either, so I called the doctor. They suggested we come in to see her at 1:45 that afternoon. I gave him more Tylenol, in the meantime. His fever would go down, but never below 101. At the doctor, he was even more listless than he'd been that morning. He was burning up, grunting, and his skin was mottled. Something was not right, but it's difficult to tell in an infant without a more thorough examination. We could see concern on Dr. Howard's face as she examined him. She sat down and begin to explain the situation to us. She said that, in the past, when an infant under six weeks old came to the office with a fever of over 101, they would automatically admit them to the hospital for testing, fluids and IV antibiotics. She said that, presently, if the baby doesn't seem like they are in immediate danger, they will give an antibiotic shot at the office and send them home. At that point, I was expecting that to be the course of action. That's when she told us that Bryson was a sick baby, and she would not feel comfortable sending him home at that point in time. She has recently given up her pediatric privileges at Hill Country Memorial Hospital because the staff isn't trained well enough to care for little ones like Bryson. (My mother, an ICU nurse, agrees 100% with this assertion.) She told us she would like to send him to a children's hospital to get the best possible care. She gave us a run-through of what kind of tests they would do and what they would be looking for. We agreed to take him, so she began calling to try to get us a direct admit into the hospital. None of the hospitals wanted to take a direct admit, so we would have to go through their ER. All I wanted to do was break down and cry, but my five year old was already upset at the news. I couldn't show fear at this point. We assured her that the doctors would make Bryson all better, and that he would be back home soon. Kaylee stayed with Opie, and Omie came with us to Children's Methodist Hospital in San Antonio. The staff there was excellent, and they took him right through the sliding glass window to begin his workup. He had a fever of over 102 when we got to the ER. They took him to a room and a doctor came in to explain everything to us about the seriousness of the situation. She explained that it could be something as simple as a virus, but it could be much worse. Time was of the essence, as infants can go from good to bad in a matter of minutes. They began the workup taking blood, urine, and stool. They performed a spinal tap and did chest x-rays. He was started on IV antibiotics and a saline solution to rehydrate him. In an hour, the main tests all came back clear. He had low blood sugar, but that was rectified with a feeding. The cultures they took would take hours to come back, at that point, he was admitted, and we just had to wait for a room to become available. At 11 that night, we were still waiting, so I went ahead and sent Gene and mom home. Bryson and I settled in for a wait. Little did I know, it would be a long one!

Week 5: Wednesday morning, Bryson turned five weeks old, and we were still sitting in the ER waiting for a room. I was worried, exhausted and hungry. The morning wasn't all bad, though. Bryson was already looking better from the fluids he'd been given - a good sign. Another doctor stopped by that morning with more good news. The cultures that had been growing for the past twelve hours had shown no signs of a bacterial infection. They did find a virus in his spinal fluid, though, and it was looking like that was the culprit. I called Gene to let him know. He had plans to run jobs that morning, and then he'd come to the hospital. In all my exhaustion, I broke down on the phone with him, telling him how awful of a night it had been with no sleep. I told him how they had informed me earlier that morning that they had ordered me a breakfast tray, but I might not get it, being that the ER was at the bottom of the totem pole when it came to the kitchen delivering food. I had eaten a peanut butter sandwich for lunch the day before, and it was long gone. We hadn't eaten that evening through the hustle and bustle of things. I told him how they told me that we may not get a room, and there was a possibility we'd be stuck down in the ER the entire time. Don't get me wrong, they were very nice, but ER doesn't stand for patient care! They are used to diagnosing and admitting you and then sending you on your way upstairs. I even had to remind them to come give Bryson more Tylenol every single time. They would take his temperature, and then they'd forget to come back to give the meds. Gene was frustrated at the situation, so he changed his plans and came straight to the hospital instead. We spent the majority of the day in the ER, until we FINALLY got a room around mid-afternoon. The nurses got us settled in upstairs and told me to get some rest. I took a shower and climbed into bed. It was a relief! They continued the IV antibiotics even though the cultures still showed no bacteria. We were told that they would continue them either way because of the risk of him picking up some other bacteria while in the hospital. Sad...right?!! You don't think of the possibility of getting other illnesses in a place meant to heal. We had some family stop by to visit shortly after we got settled in the room. It was nice to see some familiar faces! Gene got us dinner, we ate, and then it was time for him to head home. He had to pick up Kaylee from Omie and Opie's and get her ready to go to work with him the next day. My best friend, Amy, came to keep me company after he left until visiting hours were over that night. It was wonderful to have someone to visit with! The next morning, the doctor stopped by to let me know that the cultures still showed no bacteria, and he would do his best to get us released by the afternoon. He stuck by his word, too, and we received our discharge papers shortly before noon. I called Gene, and he came to pick us up! Bryson ran fever for another three days at home, but other than that, he has shown no lasting affects from the virus. His final diagnosis was viral meningitis. Such a fancy name for something that just has to run it's course!

Week 6: My baby turned six weeks old on Wednesday, and he is doing wonderful. Other than still having diarrhea, he is perfectly healthy. He weighed in at over 10 pounds at his one week followup! He is turning out to be quite the chunky monkey, now that he's caught up! Mommy is quite the chunky monkey herself... I ended up gaining back 10 pounds of that 20 that I had initially lost. I am having a hard time with getting back in the swing of things, not getting enough exercise and snacking too much. My doctor put me back on metformin to help me regulate my hormone imbalance and boost my weightloss. The last thing I want to do is let my PCOS take over again before I get the chance to have another baby. I had always wanted to be done having my kids before 30, and here I sit at 31. I guess some plans get changed!

I am looking forward to, not necessarily having things get easier, but getting better at dealing with things. I realize, now that six weeks have flown by, that I am not getting them back. I can't slow time down, but I can slow down and enjoy my time with these sweet loves of my life! I am in no means in the driver's seat of my life at this point, but I'll gladly hang out on the passenger side for the ride! The house may not be clean, the yard may look unkempt and things may be in disarray, but I have my babies in my arms only for a short while! I will continue to tell myself this and hope for the best! When things start getting too busy, and I begin to get ahead of myself, I just have to tell myself, "Whoa!!!" Then, I can take a step back, and get back in the swing of things! Wish me luck!!!

Love and blessings,
Jessie