Two Extremes

These days have been bittersweet since I posted last.

My household is coming along- my children are happier and daily I see more and more progress in the right direction, especially for sweet little Addison. There are still concerns with her overactive reflex in one knee and lack thereof in the other. The questionnaire the specialist sent has been put in the mail, and now we continue the waiting game.

Since her tummy has stopped hurting, she's begun blossoming in new ways. She is still the most relaxed and happiest during her bath times (and active, I should add), but she's becoming braver as the day goes on, as well. She can turn herself on her bum (in a sitting position) 90 degrees at a time and she's begun bouncing- slightly- in the jolly jumper. She's sitting up more and she's staying happy for longer periods of time; for example, we just spent the last hour and a half hanging out in the dining room while mama scrapbooked and the twinlets played. When she got tired of the exersaucer, I put her on the floor with some toys, and she continued playing there until nap time.

IMPRESSIVE!

Maren is much happier now that she is mobile and can get around on her own. She explores the house daily: yesterday she discovered magnets on the fridge, and commenced taking them off and playing with them. Then she discovered her diaper bag by the back door this afternoon- with toys in it- BONUS!!- and played there for a while. When she gets tired of that, she tours around the kitchen and dining room, playing under the swing, trying to pull the leaves off mama's plant by the patio door, plays with some boxes that I've got stored in the opposite corner of the dining room for 'Maren-proofing items', or the highchairs which are stored in front of the china cabinet.

When the house is quiet, I begin wondering what's going on. (Usually they are zoned out in front of the tv, though there have been times where Maren's been where she shouldn't be- like playing with the garbage can in our bathroom...)

WHile my heart is brimming with pride and happiness that my girls are finally regaining some of their long-lost happiness, my heart is hurting for my dear sister. My heart is consumed with worry for her over her failing health, wondering what the future is going to hold for her. Last time we talked, the doctors had a general idea of what they think is going on, but it isn't definite. The prognosis isn't definite as a result, as well.

I am prepared for the scariest possible scenario, though I am hoping that doesn't come about. I am worried that because its taking so long for the doctors to find out what's going on, her liver is going to suffer permanent, irreparable damage (it already is...), meaning surgery, liver transplant or worse. There's nothing like hearing the words, 'your liver is starting to fail.'

I suspected it, but wasn't prepared to actually hear it.