Dear Antibiotics,

So most of you will remember the disaster that was our last round of antibiotics, and if not, then you can relive the almond-milk bath here.

So KK got sick again last week...I knew it was most likely another ear infection. I dreaded having to take him to the dr. because I knew this would mean more antibiotics. I'm not quite to the point of "letting nature take it's course" or trying homeopathic remedies for a bacterial infection, but I have to admit it crossed my mind. We went in to see our pediatrician, and I filled her in on the demonic qualities of Augmentin in autistic children. Of course, this was news to her, so she suggested Omnicef for this round. During the last demonic possession, my autism advisors had suggested amoxicillin or Omnicef, so I was ok with this strategy...mostly.

So I held my breath...he started them on Friday, Dec 9th. When I came to work on Monday everyone asked how the timeline compared to the last go round...turns out that Monday would have been almond-milk hair conditioner day. But as I sit here completing day 8 of Omnicef, the demon never appeared...neither did the terrible diarrhea...the general misery...for either him or me.

Now I definitely notice some side-effects, specifically hyperactivity! He's not mad, he's not sad, he's just BUSY. And to notice a difference in his activity takes a pretty dramatic shift because if you know KK, well "busy" is his middle name! Teachers noticed it as well, particularly his lost need for a nap. We had one night where he didn't fall asleep until after 10:30pm...I refused to go to bed until he was out, so it's been a long week.

But he's happy and attentive and not sick, so score one for Omnicef!

I know I've been promising a post on what we're doing, how we're doing it, and what we're going to do in the future. One of my plans has fallen through for the short-term, so I'm in a regrouping mode...as I do that, maybe I can lay out our strategy more effectively.

For now, we manage each day the best we can. I take comfort in his arm wrapped tightly around my neck, in his need to take me everywhere with him, in my being his security blanket, in Larkin's attempts at teaching and prompting him, and in my husband's attempts to prove how much more he's capable of.

We will get there. I am still learning. I am still digesting. I am still opening my mind.
I feel the need to try harder, to move faster, but each of us can only take so much...so we regroup and gather strength for the battle ahead.
We will get there.

Am I Running FROM Something or TO Something?....Yes

"Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive"
Dog Days Are Over, Florence + The Machine

I get asked a lot of questions about running...select from the following.
"How do you find time to run?"
"Why would anyone want to run that far?"
"What do you do with the kids?"
"How long did that take you?"

Quick answers “I make time”, “To prove to myself I can”, “I have an awesome husband”, and “Less time that you’d think”.
And you know I pose questions to myself as well...specifically the title of this post...

Am I running FROM something? On most days, hell yes! A bad day, a crappy email, a dinner meltdown, a pile of Halloween candy that's singing to me, a crabby mood, you name it.

But more importantly, Am I running TO something? And I've started to realize that the answer to that question is also yes.

Several good friends and autism mamas have stressed to me the importance of not forgetting yourself in all of this. They've reminded me that if I'm not functional, none of this is going to work.

So running is how I stay functional, a way that I'm physically forced to have "me time" on a regular basis. Some women go for a pedicure, some women go to happy hour, some women curl up in a tub with a good book...and while I would thoroughly enjoy all of those things, I just don't have the time to do all of that regularly and stay sane. But I do find time to run. And my amazing husband makes sure of that.

And it's in his best interest to keep me running because it keeps me sane...and it's cheaper than therapy. I joked with a friend on Facebook about the fact that I run so far so that I don't crack and hold up a Target or something, but there's probably some truth to that.

Remember that scene in Father of the Bride where Steve Martin loses it because the number of hot dog buns in a package is disproportionate to the number of actual hot dogs per package?

Yep, I'm basically one spilled glass of milk away from that scene on a daily basis.

So I run...I run to survive. The monotony is soothing, the physical exhaustion calms my busy brain and lets me actually put together a coherent thought. Sadly I don't run and appreciate the trees or the sunset or the cars passing by. I run and slowly work through my series of lists that are constantly circulating in my brain. I would think that if someone could visualize this list-based layout of my brain it might look like the arrivals/departures board at an airport combined with the stock exchange ticker, multiplied by 100.

But somehow between the first step out of the driveway to the last turn back into the cul-de-sac, it all starts to make a little sense. Priorities are made, problems are solved, feelings are dealt with. I come back a better woman than the most likely frazzled wife and mom that walked out the door an hour or so before.

I know many of you are thinking “she needs to go to yoga!”. And you know what? I LOVE yoga. Completely adore it. If yoga were a competitive sport, I would have gotten a college scholarship. I’m extremely flexible and very well balanced. Taller, skinnier friends have wondered how it is I do it…it’s in my genes, I’m a little wide set and low to the ground with strong legs, I was made to balance on those hips and find strength in those legs ; ) But the problem is when they tell you to quiet your mind…it’s impossible for me. I just can’t. I absolutely can’t. Instead the lists that I mention above seem to get louder, and yell at me for just laying there. I still love yoga, but I need the running first. The running calms me, the running keeps the bad feelings at bay, the running keeps me “me”…

"She has to run everyday or she goes crazy, she's like a border collie" - Phil Dunphy, Modern Family
I am always one missed run away from a meltdown.
I run from the bad of the day, so I can open myself up to appreciating all the good…and there is so much good. I need that reminder every single day, and regardless of what goes wrong, there is a smile or an arm wrapped around my neck that makes me remember, makes me appreciate, gives me the strength to do this all over again tomorrow...and for that I am so grateful.

November Training in Review

Well the training has definitely caught up to me. I was sick (antibiotics required) for a bit, and my foot tendinitis finally acted up after spending three days in heels at a conference and then trying to get my long run in the day after I got back...but I hung in there...and I KILLED my numbers compared to last November. I'll let them speak for themselves.

November 2010
Longest Weekend Run: 13 miles
Longest Midweek Run: 4 miles
Highest Weekly Total: 22 miles
Total Runs: 13
Missed Runs: 5 (foot tendinitis and travel from what I remember...)
Total Miles: 68

November 2011
Longest Weekend Run: 16 miles
Longest Midweek Run: 8 miles
Highest Weekly Total: 29 miles
Total Runs: 15
Missed Runs: 2 (one for being way sick, one for foot tendinitis recovery)
Total Miles: 109

And so I hold my breath until January...
All I want for Christmas is a strong marathon, one where I feel good, and feel like I'm ready!

Halloween 2011

Allow me to interrupt our usual crazy life with a dose of normalcy...our Halloween pics! To reflect on years past, Larkin has been a chicken, a lamb, and last year both a ladybug and Minnie Mouse. This year represents the first time that Larkin had a serious opinion about her Halloween costume. Initially, she kept saying she wanted to be a dinosaur, but this eventually changed to being a zebra. Now where in the world was I going to find a zebra costume? Well I completely lucked out! Introducing our sassy zebra...

Now Kellen is a little more difficult. He's been a lobster, and last year he was a dragon and Superman. He tends to not like any large headpieces. Last year, when we put the dragon costume on him, he would go completely limp LOL! The headpiece and the long tail had him totally confused. Picture taking was an adventure...that I wouldn't know about because poor Patrick and Annie had to handle it since I was out of town at a conference!

So in shopping through Target, we ran across the perfect costume for Kellen...and he loved it the minute he saw it.

Truly, KK is exactly like Dash from the Incredibles...

And he proceeded to "dash" around the room the entire time we took pictures...somehow this is my favorite ; ) Thanks to Lindsay Moore at Fabulous Occasions for entertaining my little fashionista and my little tornado! And to finish our tale, Larkin had her first experience with trick or treating. Kellen was feeling a little sick (see last post...), so he went to bed on time. I decided that Larkin could stay up a little and maybe hand out candy in her costume. Then that evolved into well maybe I'll take her to a couple of houses here in our cul-de-sac so she can see what trick-or-treating is about. Somehow when we got to the door, I convinced Patrick to take her. I would sit in the driveway with Kellen's monitor and hand out candy while they went down the street...well 15 minutes passed and they still weren't back. I called Patrick. Apparently she had such a positive experience with the first 2 houses that she wanted to keep going! She kept saying "What about this house Daddy, their light is on?" Long story short, I almost had to put out an alert on a missing zebra! They came back about 45 minutes later with an entire bag full of candy.

Suffice to say, she definitely knows what trick-or-treating is now! She had a blast, her daddy got some much needed bonding time with her, she made out like a bandit (I would only have taken her to 2 houses!), and she was asleep before I got downstairs. It was her night, and I'm so grateful we were able to give that to her.

Regression and a Confession

As with everyone, certain song lyrics get stuck in my head…and a certain couple have been playing over and over lately.

“…Is this as hard as it gets? ‘Cause I’m getting tired of pretending I’m tough…” Yes this is in fact from a Josie and the Pussycats song…don’t judge, the lead singer from Letters to Cleo sang it!

But back to the matter at hand…it’s apparently common knowledge that kids with autism “regress”. Some kids have an initial regression that leads to the diagnosis, but apparently all of them have regressions along their journey…an ebb and flow with the tide. It’s known, it’s expected, it’s hell.

We had our first real experience with regression this weekend. And to bring the good with the bad, I truly believe the only reason we saw the regression was because we were seeing such awesome forward progress. Our plan with therapies, diets, schedules, etc. deserves a post on its own, but suffice to say, we were moving in the right direction…and then he got sick.

A little cold, no big deal, but he got sick and grouchy by Tuesday, and on Wednesday I took him to the dr. In the room, he was just in my arms, hugging me, snuggling, his warm little body content to have the comfort of his mother. It was one of those moments that you hate because that means he’s really sick, but one of those moments that I know I’ll think about someday when he’s too big to sit in my lap…

Our pediatrician walks in and immediately says “Oh, he IS sick”…mostly because tornado Kellen is rarely in one place for long in the doctor’s office. We constantly sit there watching him tear up the room thinking “Why are we here again?”, but this time he was really sick. Turns out it was a double ear infection. It’s his first season without ear tubes, but also the first time we’d made it all the way to November (2 days in!) without an ear infection. One tube has fallen out, the other one is on its way out. I was really hoping to not have to redo his tubes, jury is out on that one, we’ll see.

We get to talking, and I mention the diet changes we’re undertaking, and to my surprise she was nothing but supportive. We actually had a great conversation where she said that science and medicine still don’t have a clue about autism. She said she knew that I would thoroughly research any potential treatment/therapy, so she was happy to help wherever she could. She also asked me a few questions so that she could be informed for her other families with autistic children. I was hesitant to initially tell her about the diet change, but her welcoming attitude let me know that we’d have another partner in our journey, whatever path we chose to pursue.

Anyway, it’s common knowledge in my kids’ records that Augmentin is the only antibiotic that has worked without fail (amoxicillin and omnicef have failed miserably in the past for both kids). My biggest concern was how to get him to take it…if I’d only known.

Patrick was gone most of the day on Satuday…and truth be told…so was my Kellen.

In his place was what I would consider a stereotypical poster child for autism. He was angry and agitated. He was kicking, hitting, screaming, crying. He wouldn’t ask for his cup, he constantly wanted to be someplace else (much of the fighting was over wanting to go downstairs). I felt like I needed a class in restraining…and when I’d finally get him to calm down, he still wasn’t there…he was in la-la land.

Sunday seemed to start out a little better, but then more of the same. Patrick was there, and he saw it, too. There was some sort of fundamental shift. As I stared in the bathroom mirror, I saw a tired and frazzled woman covered in the almond milk he had just slapped out of my hand and I was of course doing the ugly cry. I was trying to pull myself back together to walk out there, and all I could think was “We’ve lost him. He was there, he was happy, he was present, and we lost him. How?”

It was the worst parenting weekend of my life…I did not measure up to the challenge like I should have. I fell apart and Patrick was left to clean up the mess (literally and figuratively). It felt like a terrible nightmare, which for me would probably involve large bodies of water…and I was most definitely drowning.

We both implicated the antibiotics…it was the ONLY thing that had changed. I found myself Monday morning wondering if another friend, who was also dealing with a regression with her son, had an antibiotic connection…and she did. So I start researching and guess what…this was basically “to be expected”. I’m glad I did not know this ahead of time…because the regression was SO obvious and SO terrifying that I came to the antibiotic conclusion on my own, both as a mother and as a scientist. This is truth, this is a valid hypothesis in my sample size of ONE (and potentially TWO).

It’s no secret that antibiotics alter the bacterial communities throughout your body…much of the science behind autism is based on the fact that these communities are out of synch, out of proportion…too much of one, not enough of the other, shifts wreaking monumental havoc throughout the entire body. I plan to break all this down eventually…as an actual scientist not a Playboy playmate (although I really did like Jenny McCarthy on Singled Out).

We lost him…but he came back. He woke up happy on Monday morning, and I left him at school cautiously wondering if I should leave a note for his teachers saying “Warning…”. When I picked him up, they said that KK was back to himself…their comparison being “sick KK” last week as opposed to the “disaster KK” we saw this weekend. As my mouth dropped in awe at their report, I see my KK, my actual KK, running full speed across the playground, looking straight into my face, big toothy grin…and my KK is back in my arms, hugging me tightly. He was back, and I was overwhelmed.

He was fine all evening, asking for his cup, gesturing emphatically while going on about everything, laughing, playing, singing…he kept getting my hand and taking me places all evening…just to have me where he was. At one point, he took me to his room. We played for awhile and then he turned to leave, got to the door, looked back to see if I was following, then smiled and doubled back to grab my hand as if saying “Oh Mama, come on already…you don’t want to miss this”.

I held my breath again this morning, but my happy boy was here…I hope he comes home again today.

In all of this, I learned that I’m not as strong as I’m pretending to be (see “almond milk covered ugly cry” above). I need to learn to ask for help, this much Patrick managed to get through to me this weekend. Because keeping in line with the “confession” title of this post, I won’t even let him help half the time. I need to let go of some of the guilt, I need to learn to weather the bad days, and I need to have faith that there will be more good days. I have a lot to learn…

And so we move on…and to tie back to my lyrical stance today…only my dear Sarah McLachlan can say it so beautifully. This is what I was singing to Kellen in the doctor’s office when I held my sick sweet boy, and I realized that this is our song…

"Answer"

I will be the answer
At the end of the line
I will be there for you
While you take the time
In the burning of uncertainty
I will be your solid ground
I will hold the balance
If you can't look down

If it takes my whole life
I won't break, I won't bend
It will all be worth it
Worth it in the end
Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all gone out
You'll still be burning so bright

Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind
Take me to a
Place so holy
That I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight

If it takes my whole life
I won't break, I won't bend
It will all be worth it
Worth it in the end
'Cause I can only tell you what I know
That I need you in my life
When the stars have all burned out
You'll still be burning so bright

Cast me gently
Into morning
For the night has been unkind

October Training in Review

I'm firmly in the middle of my marathon training schedule, and I thought it was worth it to not only review my training for the month of October but to also compare it to my training last year. We scientists really like our data...and let's just say that the numbers probably go a long way in explaining how I ended up with a painful two knee brace 5 hr plus marathon day last year...

For history's sake, last year I trained with a group using the USAFit plan...which to the "real marathoners" looked like really low mileage. Considering I had no freaking clue last year, I just followed the herd and basically ran too fast and overall too little to consider it anywhere near a respectable training cycle. Oh well, live and learn. I was determined NOT to let this happen to me again this year, so I'm following a sort-of hybrid Higdon plan (combining Novice 1 and 2). Higdon plans seem to be well revered, and I've had several friends feel more than prepared following them. Last year...I NEVER felt prepared for any distance beyond 10 miles.

So without further delay...the numbers:
October 2010
Longest Weekend Run: 13.1 miles
Longest Midweek Run: 4 miles
Highest Weekly Total: 19 miles
Total Runs: 13
Missed Runs: 4 (wow....I only ran 3x a week?)
Total Miles: 73

And then this year...
October 2011
Longest Weekend Run: 13.1 miles
Longest Midweek Run: 6 miles
Highest Weekly Total: 24 miles
Total Runs: 17
Missed Runs: 1 (took an extra rest day after my half marathon)
Total Miles: 96

What's even more important to me is that all of my October 2010 miles were run with 2 knee braces and had me at the ortho's office with foot pain that we thought was a stress fracture but ended up being tendinitis. So far this year, I'm still brace free! I'm not saying I won't need them, the miles are about to get longer, but I will say that I'm holding up a little better this year!

We'll see how November goes with more miles, a work conference, and the holidays, but I will tell you that my November 2010 total was...wait for it...68 miles. I sure hope I can do better than that this year!
72 days to go!

Battle Scars…Old Wounds and New Wars

SIX…Had life (fate, God, the universe, my uterus) chosen a different path, we would have 6 year old twins right now. I still remember the very first time I found out I was pregnant that February morning in 2005. I couldn’t sleep because I had an idea that this was really it, that I was really pregnant this time. I took the test, did the obligatory turn around and pray while I waited the 3 minutes, and there were the lines. I crawled back into bed crying and Patrick assumed it was the usual, another negative. I had to stop him from comforting me long enough to tell him it was positive. What a naïve, unassuming, hopeful time that was. We thought the hard part was getting pregnant back then…we thought the battle was over…but life was about to begin to show us just how tough we were…just how much we could endure.

It’s a long story- one that I’ve told before, just not here. It’s hard to know which loss was the hardest, they were all difficult, they were all unkept promises, they all chipped away at our souls, at our hope. But that first battle was a rough one. To find out days later that I had an ectopic pregnancy (and be immediately admitted to the hospital for surgery the next morning), and then by some miracle find out 1 week later that there was a second embryo (this one actually in the uterus instead of my tubes), well it just seemed like we were the luckiest people in the world. Turns out I was just a statistical anomaly…heterotopic pregnancies are very rare, and rarely end well. We lost the second twin a few weeks later, cue another surgery. And for the Cliff notes version of the rest of that journey: found out I had a defective uterus, fixed uterus, still needed fertility drugs, got pregnant, miscarried, more surgery, rinse/repeat . Finally figured it all out (daily blood thinner injections for the duration of the pregnancy!) and we got Larkin. Then as an added surprise, Kellen happened all on his own.

I revisit this now because that first pregnancy had a due date of Halloween, so every year it falls upon me to reflect on this journey, this old battle, which literally and figuratively left me with a few scars to carry.

So you stop and think…had things happened differently, we would have been trick-or-treating with two 6-year olds. But I would have missed out on my sassy zebra that charmed the neighborhood, and my snuggly boy that was a little under the weather but was giving awesome hugs last night. And I’m grateful. Our infertility journey made us stronger, prepared us for what was to come, proved to us that even when everything in and around you is telling you, begging you to give up, to give in, that you just freaking can’t. I constantly thought to myself that I would just try again because what if next time was THE time…and eventually it was…and they are everything that we dreamed they would be.

So I take these battle scars with me to the new war, and I will do my best to maintain the same attitude. Because in trying to help Kellen there will be bad days…and it will hurt, and we will feel like giving up, and we will lose our hope, and we will question our faith, and we will ask repeatedly “why?”…but we’ve been there before. We survived, we grew, we latched onto each other like our lives depended on it…because they did.

It brings me to a polarizing statement that has some history…
“Everything happens for a reason”
People love to say it when they don’t know what else to say. This actually used to be my mantra in life…back when the worst thing that ever happened to me was family drama (and who doesn’t have that?!). But as “life” happened, it got a little harder to swallow that well-meaning phrase. There are some things that are hard to find a valid “reason” for. Five miscarriages seems a little excessive…but if that’s what it took to get Larkin, to get Kellen, well I would do it all again in a second.

And you can’t help but try to find a “reason” for every family struggling with a diagnosis of autism. But instead of reasons, you just come up with more questions.
What will we face along our autism journey? Who knows.
Are we ready? Probably not.
Will we survive? You bet your ass.
Will it all be worth it? We have two beautiful kids…it already is worth it.