My Cervix.

Went in for my 26 week appointment on Tuesday. Everything with the baby is looking good and healthy, besides the fact that he is breech. However, when my doctor did a cervical scan, he found that my cervical length is shortening. At my 22 week appointment it was 4 cm and on Tuesday it was 2.8 cm. The doctor felt like putting in a cerclage (stitching my cervix closed) was more of a risk than benefit at this point. He thought that the risk of infection and it possibly causing premature labor are too much to risk at this point. Instead he ordered for me to be on strict bed rest until I deliver. No sitting, and only getting up for the toilet.

While my doctor was giving me my bed rest rules, and some panic was starting to set it, it was hard not to get up from my chair and lay on the floor in his office with my legs above my head right then and there.

Next week I go in for another appointment and will also be getting steroid shots for the baby's lungs.

Rusty flew down to be with me the night I had my appointment and has been getting me all my meals and with me since then.

If you know me very well, you know that lying in bed all day is not very easy for someone like myself. However, after everything we went through with Olive I'm willing and ready to be a vegetable for as long as can help this little guy stay inside.

last photo before bed rest.

Grateful Tears.

This morning I woke up to an e-mail in my inbox from our friends Michael and Heather who we lived near and met in Thailand. They moved back to the States last December after some complications with insurance and an emergency back surgery for Heather for a herniated disk. Though they never met Olive, they often asked about her and sincerely cared about a season of life that we never even knew each other in.  They are currently living in Grand Rapids, MI, and when I opened my e-mail this morning and saw a photo of Olive's grave with these beautiful hydrangeas next to it the tears started pouring down my cheeks into my cereal bowl for the next 20 minutes.

It's been a while since I've cried Olive tears, so maybe that is why it felt hard to stop them from coming back on and off throughout the day.  Living so far away from her grave on a days like her birthday are hard because the first thing I want to do is go and sit with her body, clean her stone, put fresh flowers there and talk to her.

To know that two of our friends go their car and drove two hours on a wet dreary day to find her little graveyard in between the cornfields of northern Indiana meant so much.

I'm realizing that some of the tears I've cried today aren't just sad ones, but grateful tears for the friends and family I have in my life. For those who remembered her birthday this week and wrote or called me just to check in...for friends like Michael and Heather who drove to put flowers on her grave. For my Aunt Anna who also visited her grave with flowers.  For those of you who have followed her journey silently and with your prayers...

On Saturday friends and family gathered in Seattle to support "Team Colleen" (Rusty's mother) in the Brain Cancer Research Walk. In Michigan, Rusty's sister Stacia organized a walk for those in the area and the tears returned when I saw that our friends Brad, Jill, and Elizabeth were there to walk along with our cousin Sarah who drove hours to be there. As a family we have been once again overwhelmed by the love and commitment of friends and family to walk alongside us in another journey we never anticipated or wanted to take part in.

So today there were tears mixed with loss, but also gratefulness for friends and family who, even with an ocean in between us, still remind us how much they care. You too are irreplaceable, just like little Olive Hope.

Olive's 2nd Birthday.

Two years ago today you were born.
I wonder what you would be like if you were still with us. 
If your hair would be straight like your dad's or curly like mine.
If your eyes would have been blue or green. 
If your big toe was going to be disproportionately large like your father's.
I see my friend Sarah's daughter Rouen and my niece Aubrey who both have birthdays close to yours and wonder if you would be as chatty and silly as them at this stage. 
When you were still with us I wondered all these same things, thinking only time would tell. 
And now you're gone. 
And I'll never know the answers to my questions until I meet with death and find you again. 
Until then, know that you will never be forgotten or replaced, and that I will always carry you in my heart.

Reflections on the Crisis in the Horn of Africa

Reflections on the Crisis in the Horn of Africa

Fresh Pineapple and Porn.

I have been living in Bangkok now for the past few weeks. It is a different world than living at the Akha Youth Development Center in Chiang Rai surrounded by rice fields.

I am living in a small studio apartment in the middle of the city, surrounded by sky scrapers on all sides, poverty, wealth,  and cultural diversity like few other places in Thailand. In my apartment building there are tenants from Dubai, Burma, Ethiopia, Sudan, United Arab Emirates, Thailand, Vietnam, Laos, India, Europe, and the States. Elevator interactions are always interesting around here with so many cultures colliding in such a small space.

I also live in one of the two biggest areas of the city known for prostitution. Walk out of the door and you are offered porn, fresh pineapple, chicken schwarma, weed, hummus, fried bananas, sex toys, cheap movies, lady shows, gelato...well you are maybe starting to get the idea...a little more colorful around here. 

I think people have been trying to figure out where to place me in this little community. A pregnant, white young girl who is usually seen alone. I wonder sometimes if they assume that I'm a backpacker who got pregnant on her travels and is stranded here. A few curious vendors who sell me fruit have asked me what I'm doing here and after I tell them a bit about myself their strange stares have turned into warm smiles. More smiles too in the last few days after Rusty arrived back and they see us walking around together.

Last week I went to a local non-profit here that provides an aftercare program to girls who have chosen to leave the sex industry. While sitting with the director of the organization and hearing story after story of these women, and girls, my heart was mostly deeply saddened. Next week I will start teaching English in the mornings to the girls and am looking forward to connecting with them more individually.

It is estimated that just in this immediate area around me in Bangkok there are around 7,000 girls working as prostitutes. Customers come from all over the world to enjoy their vacation of pleasure. The stories I heard were the gut wrenching kind. The kind of stories that are impossible to forget. 

One story of a girl at the center started when her father left her family when she was five years old. Having three children to support, her mother started trying to sell small items on the street on a bamboo mat. The money was inconsistent and provided no guarantees that they would have enough to eat on a day to day basis. When a Japanese business man approached the mother and asked how much for her eldest daughter she took up his offer out of desperation to support her family.  Every few days the business man would pull up on the curb in his expensive car and take her daughter (6 years old at the time) into his car and have his way with her for the next few hours before depositing her on the curbside again with a chunk of money. This went on for months. One day out of fear, the little girl jumped out of the car and started running. Thankfully a police man saw this strange interaction her and actually decided to help. The Japanese business man was scolded and fined a whopping $400 dollars. The mother was taken to prison and her children taken from her care.

A few years down the road this girl was back working as a prostitute to support herself and younger siblings before she had someone reach out to her and she learned about an organization that would give her a safe place to live and provide her with food and job training. 

This was her start in life. 

Sex for her wasn't a choice. 

She did it out of selflessness for her family.

I heard heart-breaking story after story. Eighty percent of the girls living at this particular after-care facility were sexually molested as children by family members or sold into prostitution as children to provide for their families.  Many prostitutes here are without citizenship which leaves them in positions to be easily taken advantage of. Many are Akha girls coming to support their younger siblings to study. Many are Burmese, Cambodian, and Thai women from impoverished families. You may say they are choosing to be here, at least the ones who haven't been tricked or trafficked into these jobs. I'm not so sure I would call it a choice anymore. For most of them they don't see it as a choice--but being self-less, and giving up their lives so that their younger siblings and family have enough money to eat, or even a chance at education.

I went to this after-care center on one of the days that Colleen (Rusty's mother) still hadn't woken up from her brain surgery and we were walking around with heavy hearts full of worry. I left thinking about no matter what circumstances come our way and how hard they may be...that at least we live with hope. 

Not a hope that God will always intercede like we want him to and long for him too, but a hope that  there is more to life than everything we see around us here. That no matter how broken, heavy, or difficult things feel, that we have something more waiting for us on the other side. And then I started thinking about what life would be like without a hope like that...and I can't seem to shake that thought.

Quite a Day--again!

written by Ron Polinder

Been feelin blue today--all of us.  What will the future hold?  How much time will we have?  Glioblastoma--just how nasty is that?  Hard questions that we know we must ask.

So when Dr. Foltz came in this afternoon, we asked him.  The pattern continues--every time we talk to this good man, he gives us hope and offers appropriate encouragement.  Given a localized tumor, the expected treatment, and trial, we are not inclined to put numbers or years on Colleen's life.  As one of our favorite "Rehoboth" song claims, "Our life is in His hands."   But he urged us to get on with our lives--for Staci to go back to MI on Monday as planned, and for Rusty to head back to Thailand to join Lynette, and for Ro and Co to plan on the January trip to Bangkok to see a new grandson.  Now, that will lift the spirits!

So too, he urged me to get on with my work.  We know there is a lot of Lynden love to help meet our collective needs and help with Colleen's care..  Almost surely, we are in for three weeks of rehab here, and maybe more.  Dr. Foltz is pleased that he will be able to continue to see her.  

Sooooo--do you sense the balance we are trying to express--gratitude, progress, awakening, along with caution, realism and hope.  Given our circumstances, we will rest there, even tonight.  Bless you for trusting and hoping with us.  "From whence comes our help?  Our help comes form the Lord, maker of heaven and earth."

Ron

Quite a Day!

written by Ron Polinder

Some dandy developments today:

1.  Colleen is out of ICU, earlier than we anticipated.  Dr. Foltz continues to do cartwheels over the progress Colleen is making.  Today he came in with his surgical scrubs, somewhat aqua in color.  Colleen looked him over and said, "You need some turquoise jewelry to go with that."  Dr. Foltz cracked up and said, "I'm not really into that," to which Colleen said, :Well I am, and I can take care of that."  :)

2. She sat in a chair today, though her core muscles are still very weak. The Rehab folks were in this afternoon and there appears to be lots of reasons to stay right here at Swedish for these services, not the least of which is the ongoing oversight of her doctors.  And we know insurance will cover.

3.  Earlier we had reported about the "trial" that Colleen will participate in.  We indicated a 50/50 chance of being selected for the vaccine.  In reality, they will select 2 of 3.  And if symptoms reoccur, they will immediately begin the vaccine.  Again, Colleen is the very first person from the entire Northwest that has qualified for this study--so we think they will continue to give her lots of attention.

4.  I am writing from her room now, but this morning we talked on the phone.  Colleen sounded like Colleen--I could not believe the progress, and her acuity. We are giving thanks that Colleen is coming back to herself, though she still needs quietness and rest.  Physically she has a long ways to go, but there is much optimism about recovery.

We will not be sitting on the back porch at Rosemary Way anytime soon, but we are grateful for all the good people at Swedish that we get to hang out with.  Colleen is in love with the nurses, even trying to match them up with certain relatives. In turn, I am in love with 500+ people on Caring Bridge.

Ron    

Assessing

written by Ron Polinder 

Writing from Lynden tonight--good to check in, see precious grandkids, pay some bills, stock up....

It has been another good day in that Colleen is responsive, coherent, loving and downright funny at times.  The PT/OT team came in and got her on the edge of her bed, though her left-side weakness is frightening. Dr. Foltz, who came in twice today, again reassured us that will come back.

Her left eye opens more easily that her right because of the right-side swelling from the incision.  By the way, prior to the 2nd surgery, they did shave a third of her head.  She kinda looks like a punk rocker. :) Still on feeding tube--maybe tomorrow that will come out.

So the near term looks promising.  But we would be naive if we did not consider what we face longer term.  One day soon, we will need to get the doctor's fuller assessment in that regard. It is not a conversation we are looking forward to.  Yet, we ought not borrow trouble from the future.   

So tonight we will use the words of brother Sherm's favorite song--No never alone, no never alone!  He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone.  Most of you will remember that song from our youth.  It speaks to the progress, and the prognosis.  Regardless, we are not alone--we belong...........

Ron

the good things.

Seems like life as of late has been full or reminders of how broken this world is that we live in. The most comforting thing is the hope that takes us beyond life in this world, that even sickness and pain and death can't take away our hope of what is to come.  In the middle of all of the mess there is still beauty and things that make me smile. Laughter helps keep me functional in the middle of times like these.

I moved down to Bangkok last week to be near the hospital here. Last night as I was walking home a man tried to hit on me until his eyes moved down to my stomach where they got big when he saw my pregnant belly and he suddenly ended the conversation and shuffled on by. I chuckled to myself the rest of the way home. 

Grateful today for the fresh fruit sold on the street...for the diversity all around me here...for enough money to eat...for friends and family whose love remains just as strong despite long distances...for these little jabs and kicks in my belly throughout the day...for the rain to bring relief to the suffocating humidity...for the kids at AYDC in Chiang Rai who have made my life all the more rich...for community in Chiang Rai, and new relationships here in Bangkok...for the chance to hear Colleen's voice on SKYPE last night...for health today....and a comfortable bed tonight.