Yesterday was a hard day for me. Very, very hard. I didn't realize how hard it was until I woke up this morning and I felt like I'd been beaten up. I had tossed and turned so much that every muscle hurt. I layed in bed much longer than I should have because I just didn't want to face the day. I had this terrible sadness hanging over my head that I just couldn't shake and I really wanted to just hide under the covers all day. But that wasn't an option since I had to go to the office, so I had to put on my big girl panties and get a move on.
As many of you know, I have a very volatile relationship with my parents. My mother has been diagnosed as bi-polar but refuses to take any medication. She insists that the doctors are wrong and she doesn't need any help. She suffers from major bouts of paranoia, which is very common with the disease, and often believes that people are out to kill her or someone close to her. She hasn't been well most of my life, but when I was 23 it really came to a head and I was "disowned" from the family. Since then there have been several attempts to mend the fences but it always ends up in disaster. After each time, I will vow that I won't go through it again, but normally every six months or so, they will pop back up and I will pray about what God wants me to do. My wordly heart tells me to never let them into my life again, but as a Christian, I wonder "what if this is FINALLY the time that God is going to fix the relationship?" I worry that if I don't give it a chance each time, that it will be me going against His plan.
Over the past couple of years, my father has battled non-Hodgkins lymphoma. From what I was told, at one point he was given six weeks to live. I never knew if it was completely the truth, because I've been told many things before that didn't turn out to be true. But again, I could never completely turn my back on them, because what if it were true and he passed away without me finding closure. I just didn't know if I would be able to live with myself if I didn't at least keep the door open a tiny bit.
Which is what I was trying to do over the last few months. Keep the door open so there was a tiny bit of communication, yet also guarding my heart from getting hurt again. My parents would push to have contact with Alex, but I wouldn't allow it because I still didn't trust them completely. And I felt, as his mother, that he needed to be protected completely from all the family drama.
Well, yesterday my mother went off on one of her paranoid rants. It's embarassing to share some of this, but she was insistent that the FBI and Interpol were protecting us (secretly of course) from people that wanted to kill us. Reading that on my computer screen, I knew that it was time to close that door. I could feel God in that moment telling me it was time, that it was over. I felt an overwhelming peace from Him. I could literally hear Him telling me it was okay to let go. He was giving me full permission. The hard part was going to be finding the right words to end all communication.
So, as I typed each word in response, I prayed. I prayed that I would keep all my emotion out of it, that the words I used would not further inflame the situation, that I would not act accusatory, that I would not place blame and that I would not make mention of her paranoid delusions. When I pressed 'send' I felt very peaceful. I felt like I had handled the situation as best as I could. I knew there would be fall out, but I knew God was on my side and I had acted, not reacted.
If only I had thought to block their e-mail address after I sent my response. Because what I got back was the worst thing I had ever read. It was vile, hurtful, full of venom and spite, calling me names that I wouldn't use against my worst enemy, blaming me for every problem in their lives, etc, etc. I told myself it wasn't a surprise, that I'd read similar things before and not to let it get me down. Alex and I went to some friends house right after I got it and I tried to not dwell on it. But I couldn't sleep most of the night. I asked myself over and over again if I had done something wrong. Was I wrong for cracking the door in the first place? Was I wrong for shutting that door again? Was I doing everything I should as a Christian? Did I truly hear from God yesterday or was that just my excuse to get them out of my life?
All these thoughts were running through my head as I was getting ready for work. I did my best to shove them aside so I could get out the door, but they were still there. As I got in the car (before I started driving), I checked my e-mail and I noticed one from a dear friend of mine. She had forwarded her daily devotion with the following words attached: "I don't know why, but I just KNEW you needed this today. Love you." And the devotion was all about how sometimes God will lead you to shut the door on people that are not good for you or your family. That He will make it clear to you when that is His plan. And when it IS His plan, he will lead you to do it in a way that is not reactive, not full of animosity or hate. And even if the other person comes back in a negative way, that does NOT mean that you have gone against His plan. We are only responsible for our own actions, not how other people will react to them.
After reading that devotion, I returned to my sense of peace. Does it stop me hurting from the things they said? No. Does it stop me from missing having "normal" parents? No. But it does let me know that this time I was doing what God asked me to. I did the right thing as a Christian and as a mother. Doing the right thing doesn't mean there won't be negative ramifications. But that doesn't mean we have to change our actions to make everyone else happy. And today I am going to cling to the fact that God is here for me in my time of need. He is here to lead me in the right direction. And as long as I follow that direction, I don't have to second guess myself.
Thank you for reading. I wish a sense of peace for each and every one of you.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Friday, October 10, 2014
Acting, not reacting
During my early twenties, there was a time that I couldn't step foot into a church. I'd had a huge falling out with my parents and the way they justified "disowning me" was to quote scripture verses. I had grown up in the church and my father at one point had planned on becoming a pastor before his life had taken a different course, so the Bible was often read in our home. But to have it used against me like that was just more than I could wrap my brain around. The whole situation was beyone upsetting, but the hardest part for me was the hypocrisy of it all. After that happened, I just couldn't be in a setting where a large group was praising God because I would look around and wonder: "who are the fake ones in this crowd?" like I thought my parents had been.
So, one day I sat on my couch and had a conversation with God. I told Him that I couldn't go back to the actual building, but I would have church at home. I promised that I would still have a relationship with Him but it would be just between us. It was the only way I could move forward without shutting Him out of my life completely. And it probably turned out to be the best thing for my spiritual health. It was at that moment it became about a personal relationship and not just going through the motions. I could sit there in my own home and talk to Him like He was a real friend, like He was sitting there right beside me. I learned that there was nothing I had to hold back because He already knew what I was thinking and feeling anyway. I didn't have to pretend, I didn't have to mince words, it didn't matter HOW I prayed or what fancy words I used. I could talk to Him in my sweats while I was working out, in my car while I was driving, while I was cooking dinner or outside walking my dog.
During this time of avoiding any church building, God showed me that I could be taught about His word in other ways, specifically by the people around me. He taught me to be more receptive to what I could learn from others. That the people coming in and out of my life were often placed there by Him for me to learn from. Sometimes it was to learn things about myself, like how I could be a better person. Sometimes it was to better understand His word. Sometimes it was to be taught how blessed I was. The list of things I've learned goes on and on. And even though I eventually returned to "the Church", I have tried to keep my mind open to what He wants me to learn outside of the building. Sometimes those teachings can give you a warm, fuzzy feeling. And other times, they cause you to take a long, hard look in the mirror and realize you need to change. Today was the latter.
As God taught me to be open to learning from others, He also taught me the teachings wouldn't always come from the place you most expect it. Some of the most profound things I've learned have not come from the typical "Christian", have not come from the person who looks perfect on paper. As much as I've had some incredible pastors through my life, they are not always the ones I learn the most from. It's often from the people I least expect it from. And Jaimie Sullivan from Jersey Belle is one of those people. Some of you may not know who this is, but Bravo TV had (or hopefully still has) a show about her and her friends. She moved from New Jersey to a suburb of Birmingham and it followed her as she tried to fit into a very different setting than she was used to. She is crass, in your face, tells it like it is, cusses, talks about her sex life like most of us discuss the weather and never apologizes for who she is. She also posts "cawfee talk" every morning on Facebook. And every morning I listen to it on the way to work. And like so many other days it really spoke to me, but today far more than others and I just had to share.
She talked about how she used to be far more reactive than she is today and how hard she has worked on that. She talked about how growing up no one taught her how to deal with her emotions and feelings so she learned to just stuff them inside. But by doing this, they were always just right below the surface so pretty much anything would set her off. She didn't have control of these reactions, they controlled her. And so there are many things in her life she regrets because if she had acted and NOT REACTED, they all would have turned out much better. It was like she was describing me to a "t". That person is me. Every single solitary regret I have in my life, and unfortunately I have too many, are due to how I reacted to something. How I let my emotions get the best of me and didn't take a deep breath before letting the words spew out.
When I started writing this blog, I made a vow to myself that I would be transparent. That no matter what flaws I had, I wouldn't try to hide them. I would share the good, bad and the ugly. By putting it all out there, I thought I would maybe help someone else that might have made the same mistakes I have. Maybe help that person not feel so alone. I've felt a small sense of pride that I have shared so many of my shortcomings. I thought by "throwing back the curtain" (yes, I seem to like that phrase lately) and being raw and honest that I would learn more about myself and hopefully grow in the process. But looking back, I've written a lot of powerful, meaningful blogs. But have I TRULY grown in the process? Have I changed at all? Do I HONESTLY incorporate what I write about into my daily life? The harsh truth is that the answer has to be "no". I've allowed myself to be stuck at: here are all my thoughts, emotions, feelings, ideas and shortcomings; take me as I am.
But that place doesn't allow growth, the main thing I write about. It doesn't allow change, something that I claim is important. I'm still the same reactive person at 41 as I was at 39 when I started writing. And that really upset me when it hit me this morning. And as much as I wanted to turn away from that reality, I knew that it was God telling it to me. Even though it was delivered in an unconventional way through my Facebook page, on my cell phone, playing on my Bluetooth through my car stereo, while I was driving down Highway 280, it was still God. And He wasn't sharing it to be mean, He was sharing it with me so I would FINALLY get it. If I could change this ONE BIG THING, I could stop writing about all of my flaws and shortcomings because maybe there wouldn't be so many. I could stop feeling guilty for the people's feelings I hurt or the people I've alienated by being "too much" or the times I've lashed out at my husband in anger, because it wouldn't happen as often. If I make this one change in my life, I might actually like the person I see in the mirror every day.
Ouch!!!! Lots to think about today. Now that He has put this in my head, I have to pray for His help in making this change. Because at 41 years old, I'm pretty stuck in my ways - obviously, huh? Even as I write these words, it feels like a HUGE mountain to climb. How will I do it? How can I work on this? Well, my guess is that if He could use this person I've never met to get the message across to me, He can help me do the work that needs to be done. Please keep your fingers crossed that I will keep my eyes on Him and don't lose this powerful message as the rest of the day goes on.
Thank you to all of you who continue to read all my crazy thoughts. I appreciate all of you being part of my life and loving me no matter how insane I can get. Happy Friday! I think we've all earned a great weekend. Love to you all!
So, one day I sat on my couch and had a conversation with God. I told Him that I couldn't go back to the actual building, but I would have church at home. I promised that I would still have a relationship with Him but it would be just between us. It was the only way I could move forward without shutting Him out of my life completely. And it probably turned out to be the best thing for my spiritual health. It was at that moment it became about a personal relationship and not just going through the motions. I could sit there in my own home and talk to Him like He was a real friend, like He was sitting there right beside me. I learned that there was nothing I had to hold back because He already knew what I was thinking and feeling anyway. I didn't have to pretend, I didn't have to mince words, it didn't matter HOW I prayed or what fancy words I used. I could talk to Him in my sweats while I was working out, in my car while I was driving, while I was cooking dinner or outside walking my dog.
During this time of avoiding any church building, God showed me that I could be taught about His word in other ways, specifically by the people around me. He taught me to be more receptive to what I could learn from others. That the people coming in and out of my life were often placed there by Him for me to learn from. Sometimes it was to learn things about myself, like how I could be a better person. Sometimes it was to better understand His word. Sometimes it was to be taught how blessed I was. The list of things I've learned goes on and on. And even though I eventually returned to "the Church", I have tried to keep my mind open to what He wants me to learn outside of the building. Sometimes those teachings can give you a warm, fuzzy feeling. And other times, they cause you to take a long, hard look in the mirror and realize you need to change. Today was the latter.
As God taught me to be open to learning from others, He also taught me the teachings wouldn't always come from the place you most expect it. Some of the most profound things I've learned have not come from the typical "Christian", have not come from the person who looks perfect on paper. As much as I've had some incredible pastors through my life, they are not always the ones I learn the most from. It's often from the people I least expect it from. And Jaimie Sullivan from Jersey Belle is one of those people. Some of you may not know who this is, but Bravo TV had (or hopefully still has) a show about her and her friends. She moved from New Jersey to a suburb of Birmingham and it followed her as she tried to fit into a very different setting than she was used to. She is crass, in your face, tells it like it is, cusses, talks about her sex life like most of us discuss the weather and never apologizes for who she is. She also posts "cawfee talk" every morning on Facebook. And every morning I listen to it on the way to work. And like so many other days it really spoke to me, but today far more than others and I just had to share.
She talked about how she used to be far more reactive than she is today and how hard she has worked on that. She talked about how growing up no one taught her how to deal with her emotions and feelings so she learned to just stuff them inside. But by doing this, they were always just right below the surface so pretty much anything would set her off. She didn't have control of these reactions, they controlled her. And so there are many things in her life she regrets because if she had acted and NOT REACTED, they all would have turned out much better. It was like she was describing me to a "t". That person is me. Every single solitary regret I have in my life, and unfortunately I have too many, are due to how I reacted to something. How I let my emotions get the best of me and didn't take a deep breath before letting the words spew out.
When I started writing this blog, I made a vow to myself that I would be transparent. That no matter what flaws I had, I wouldn't try to hide them. I would share the good, bad and the ugly. By putting it all out there, I thought I would maybe help someone else that might have made the same mistakes I have. Maybe help that person not feel so alone. I've felt a small sense of pride that I have shared so many of my shortcomings. I thought by "throwing back the curtain" (yes, I seem to like that phrase lately) and being raw and honest that I would learn more about myself and hopefully grow in the process. But looking back, I've written a lot of powerful, meaningful blogs. But have I TRULY grown in the process? Have I changed at all? Do I HONESTLY incorporate what I write about into my daily life? The harsh truth is that the answer has to be "no". I've allowed myself to be stuck at: here are all my thoughts, emotions, feelings, ideas and shortcomings; take me as I am.
But that place doesn't allow growth, the main thing I write about. It doesn't allow change, something that I claim is important. I'm still the same reactive person at 41 as I was at 39 when I started writing. And that really upset me when it hit me this morning. And as much as I wanted to turn away from that reality, I knew that it was God telling it to me. Even though it was delivered in an unconventional way through my Facebook page, on my cell phone, playing on my Bluetooth through my car stereo, while I was driving down Highway 280, it was still God. And He wasn't sharing it to be mean, He was sharing it with me so I would FINALLY get it. If I could change this ONE BIG THING, I could stop writing about all of my flaws and shortcomings because maybe there wouldn't be so many. I could stop feeling guilty for the people's feelings I hurt or the people I've alienated by being "too much" or the times I've lashed out at my husband in anger, because it wouldn't happen as often. If I make this one change in my life, I might actually like the person I see in the mirror every day.
Ouch!!!! Lots to think about today. Now that He has put this in my head, I have to pray for His help in making this change. Because at 41 years old, I'm pretty stuck in my ways - obviously, huh? Even as I write these words, it feels like a HUGE mountain to climb. How will I do it? How can I work on this? Well, my guess is that if He could use this person I've never met to get the message across to me, He can help me do the work that needs to be done. Please keep your fingers crossed that I will keep my eyes on Him and don't lose this powerful message as the rest of the day goes on.
Thank you to all of you who continue to read all my crazy thoughts. I appreciate all of you being part of my life and loving me no matter how insane I can get. Happy Friday! I think we've all earned a great weekend. Love to you all!
Friday, October 3, 2014
Envy.....ughhhhh! It's a terrible thing!
You know those days where you turn on Facebook and you see a post about someone's vacation or someone's new house or someone's new job promotion or someone's ultrasound picture for a new pregnancy? And you get jealous? And you think that you should never admit that to anyone? Well, I'm pulling back the curtain today and admitting my jealousy this morning. I don't admit it because I'm proud of it. I admit it because I feel incredible guilt over it and it makes me think I haven't grown like I thought I had. And then I became really embarassed and started beating myself up over it.
But then a small little voice inside my head said that I couldn't be the only one who feels this way from time to time. And that we're only human - imperfect, full of flaws, sinners. Yes, envy is a sin. And I can understand why - because it can eat you up. It can make you feel like your life isn't "good enough" or that you as a person aren't "good enough" because you don't have what the other person has. You start asking yourself "what have they done that I haven't to afford that?" Or "what have I done WRONG that God isn't allowing me to have that"? Or "why does that person have more friends than I do? Am I that bad of a person?" All these thoughts can take you down a really negative rabbit hole. And it was one that I thought I'd moved past. But it crept up like a beast this morning again. And that is really where the shame came from. Because I thought God had taught me the lesson a few months ago....but I obviously needed a refresher course.
Over the past six months or so, my family has been dealing with a couple issues that we haven't been sharing with everyone. Partly because we don't want to burden those around us, partly because we don't want to deal with a ton of extra opinions and partly because putting things "out there" makes it more real. Well, when you keep some things secret from your friends/inner circle, it can start to make you feel a bit isolated. Because you're holding things back and maybe not being as sociable/outgoing as you normally would. But something else can happen as well - since you're holding something negative inside that negativity can start to eat away at you, like a cancer. And you can start to feel jealous/envious of those around you; those that you think have it so much easier. And you start to think "if only". If only we had their "perfect life". If only we had their financial situation, their ability to travel, their standing in the community, their social network, their extended family, etc, etc. And the jealousy starts to take hold. And you can feel the bitterness start to slowly eat away at your heart. I'm ashamed to admit this was happening to me. Until...
One day we found out that a husband and wife close to us had been dealing with an issue we had no clue about. On the outside, their life looked incredibly perfect. Perfect marriage and family, always happy, never seemed to have a negative word to say, tons of friends, etc, etc. They live out of state, but through the wonders of Facebook, I've been able to watch how "perfect" their life was. But that Friday evening I learned a very poweful lesson - what people show you is NOT what is truly going on. People show you what they WANT to show you, what they choose to show you, just like Matt and I had been doing. This "perfect" couple had been dealt a serious blow to their "perfect" world and I felt like the wind had been taken out of my sails. This was the couple I wanted to be, wished I could be like. But it wasn't all so perfect after all.
And I just was stunned. I had a million emotions running through my head at the same time. Incredible, overwhelming sadness for what they were dealing with. Anger at God for letting them go through this situation. Shock that I had no clue whatsoever. But most of all, terrible shame that I had been so envious of their lives. Writing this today, I can see that moment in my head clear as if it was yesterday. I just sat and stared at the wall for the longest time. I just couldn't even get myself to speak. Matt asked me what was going on and I had to write it down for him. That's how at a loss for words I was.
I had been so consumed by what was going on in our own world. I had allowed myself to think that others in our circle had it so much easier than us. But they didn't. They don't. And in that moment, sitting in Alex's room watching him sleep because it gave me peace, I promised God that I would never be envious of someone again. And then darn it if today I didn't break that promise. I could blame social media and how it screws with your mind. I could blame the fact that I'm sick and it's been a long week. I could blame a thousand things. But I won't. I blame myself for ALLOWING myself to get caught up in the trap again. It was my CHOICE to react that way, to have those feelings. And the way my brain was working today, I could very well have stayed in that place all day. But we have a loving God and he helped me out of the rabbit hole.
As I was stuck in traffic at a stop light (just to clarify that I wasn't reading FB and driving) I came across one of my favorite morning inspirations - Jaimie Sullivan's (from Jersey Belle) "cawfee talk". I listened to it and part of her message was being thankful for what we have. That wasn't an accident. Then soon after I got to work, I got a phone call from a dear friend who really lifted my spirits. Then I got a text from my sister-in-law that really brightened my day. It's amazing how I always get texts from her at the exact moment I need them. Again, not an accident. And I realized that this was God's way of helping me out of my funk. It was okay that I had failed. He wasn't blaming me or punishing me. He was just reminding me that I do have a darn good life and I need to appreciate it.
I can't say that I won't be jealous or envious again and God won't have to help me out in the future with this sin. But I'm thankful for the ways that He is there to gently remind me that the grass isn't greener on the other side. My own is a pretty wonderful shade. And I need to enjoy it every. single. day.
Happy Friday to everyone. I hope you enjoy your own green grass today. Love to you all!
But then a small little voice inside my head said that I couldn't be the only one who feels this way from time to time. And that we're only human - imperfect, full of flaws, sinners. Yes, envy is a sin. And I can understand why - because it can eat you up. It can make you feel like your life isn't "good enough" or that you as a person aren't "good enough" because you don't have what the other person has. You start asking yourself "what have they done that I haven't to afford that?" Or "what have I done WRONG that God isn't allowing me to have that"? Or "why does that person have more friends than I do? Am I that bad of a person?" All these thoughts can take you down a really negative rabbit hole. And it was one that I thought I'd moved past. But it crept up like a beast this morning again. And that is really where the shame came from. Because I thought God had taught me the lesson a few months ago....but I obviously needed a refresher course.
Over the past six months or so, my family has been dealing with a couple issues that we haven't been sharing with everyone. Partly because we don't want to burden those around us, partly because we don't want to deal with a ton of extra opinions and partly because putting things "out there" makes it more real. Well, when you keep some things secret from your friends/inner circle, it can start to make you feel a bit isolated. Because you're holding things back and maybe not being as sociable/outgoing as you normally would. But something else can happen as well - since you're holding something negative inside that negativity can start to eat away at you, like a cancer. And you can start to feel jealous/envious of those around you; those that you think have it so much easier. And you start to think "if only". If only we had their "perfect life". If only we had their financial situation, their ability to travel, their standing in the community, their social network, their extended family, etc, etc. And the jealousy starts to take hold. And you can feel the bitterness start to slowly eat away at your heart. I'm ashamed to admit this was happening to me. Until...
One day we found out that a husband and wife close to us had been dealing with an issue we had no clue about. On the outside, their life looked incredibly perfect. Perfect marriage and family, always happy, never seemed to have a negative word to say, tons of friends, etc, etc. They live out of state, but through the wonders of Facebook, I've been able to watch how "perfect" their life was. But that Friday evening I learned a very poweful lesson - what people show you is NOT what is truly going on. People show you what they WANT to show you, what they choose to show you, just like Matt and I had been doing. This "perfect" couple had been dealt a serious blow to their "perfect" world and I felt like the wind had been taken out of my sails. This was the couple I wanted to be, wished I could be like. But it wasn't all so perfect after all.
And I just was stunned. I had a million emotions running through my head at the same time. Incredible, overwhelming sadness for what they were dealing with. Anger at God for letting them go through this situation. Shock that I had no clue whatsoever. But most of all, terrible shame that I had been so envious of their lives. Writing this today, I can see that moment in my head clear as if it was yesterday. I just sat and stared at the wall for the longest time. I just couldn't even get myself to speak. Matt asked me what was going on and I had to write it down for him. That's how at a loss for words I was.
I had been so consumed by what was going on in our own world. I had allowed myself to think that others in our circle had it so much easier than us. But they didn't. They don't. And in that moment, sitting in Alex's room watching him sleep because it gave me peace, I promised God that I would never be envious of someone again. And then darn it if today I didn't break that promise. I could blame social media and how it screws with your mind. I could blame the fact that I'm sick and it's been a long week. I could blame a thousand things. But I won't. I blame myself for ALLOWING myself to get caught up in the trap again. It was my CHOICE to react that way, to have those feelings. And the way my brain was working today, I could very well have stayed in that place all day. But we have a loving God and he helped me out of the rabbit hole.
As I was stuck in traffic at a stop light (just to clarify that I wasn't reading FB and driving) I came across one of my favorite morning inspirations - Jaimie Sullivan's (from Jersey Belle) "cawfee talk". I listened to it and part of her message was being thankful for what we have. That wasn't an accident. Then soon after I got to work, I got a phone call from a dear friend who really lifted my spirits. Then I got a text from my sister-in-law that really brightened my day. It's amazing how I always get texts from her at the exact moment I need them. Again, not an accident. And I realized that this was God's way of helping me out of my funk. It was okay that I had failed. He wasn't blaming me or punishing me. He was just reminding me that I do have a darn good life and I need to appreciate it.
I can't say that I won't be jealous or envious again and God won't have to help me out in the future with this sin. But I'm thankful for the ways that He is there to gently remind me that the grass isn't greener on the other side. My own is a pretty wonderful shade. And I need to enjoy it every. single. day.
Happy Friday to everyone. I hope you enjoy your own green grass today. Love to you all!
Friday, August 1, 2014
Taking stock of life
There are times in life where you take stock of your life and you start to get a bit down. Am I where I should be/want to be at 41? Do I like what I do for work? Am I making the best use of the degree I got? If I'm not happy, what could I actually do to make a change? There can be many reasons that we start this mental inventory. Could be a change in the workplace, could be you hook up with some college friends and remember what big dreams you had, could be a fight with the spouse, or maybe opening several bills in one day that seem to suck up a big portion of your paycheck.
For me it was a big change in my work situation. For the past several months, I'd been working mostly from home and it has been a blessing for many reasons. Abruptly, that all changed mid-day on Tuesday. And it made me realize that it's not the job I enjoyed, but the flexibility it offered me. I worked my butt off and still put in 40+ hours a week, but I was able to do it in my yoga pants most days. :-) My boss was very hands off and seemed to have faith and trust that I was working hard and getting everything done. I would get compliments frequently about helping others and I felt pretty proud of myself for that. However, either something I did upset the apple cart or maybe my boss started to regret the long leash I was on. Either way, that leash got shortened dramatically and it's left me feeling very frustrated.
Since that day, there have been several discussions at home about what to do now? Our situation went from being pretty ideal to being a big pain in the you know what. We talked about me giving notice, but I'm the benefit holder for the family. And no matter what is said out there, I just have a hard time believing with my medical history that we could get comprehensive, affordable health care. Also, with Alex starting kindergarten, I was looking forward to not having to pay child care and just putting aside my paycheck for the future.
Then I go back to - this is not going to work. And I'm not happy. But when you're an adult with a child, bills, and other responsibilities, is "not being happy" a reason to end a job? In my opinion, no. I know we live in a "feel-good" society where people think they deserve the best of everything, but that's not reality. As my husband frequently says: you can want in one hand, and well, you know, in the other.
But in the few moments I allow myself to dream or take those "what job were you meant to do?" quizzes, I think about what it would be like to write full time. I follow several blogs and I have to admit that I've had moments of jealousy, moments where I wish that I could do that full time. One woman mentioned how that is her full time job with a nice paycheck and I asked myself: how do I do that? And just like my dream of picking Alex up from the bus, it has seeped into my brain. And I'm trying my best to get it out, because I know it's a pipe dream. I don't have NEAR enough followers of my silly ramblings to turn it into a paycheck. And why would any advertisers want to pay me for what I write? It's not like anything I have to say is going to change the world. And there are a BAZILLION blogs out there - is there REALLY room for one more?
Then this morning, I was looking through my Facebook newsfeed and came across this: "CALLING ALL BLOGGERS. Blogcamp webinar. How to start a PROFITABLE blog people will read." And of course my mind started going. Was it a sign or was it something to just further encourage my crazy dream? Was it God trying to let me know I should pursue something I loved to do or the devil trying to reinforce the "I'm not happy" thoughts? So, my mind has been going back and forth. "Vicki, you make relatively good money for what you do. Suck it up and deal with the cards you're dealt. You're not the dreamer, you're the realist." Then: "But you are the first to tell Matt to follow his dream since he doesn't love what he's doing. Why not try and follow yours?" Then: "you can't have two people trying to follow their dreams. One person has to keep their feet firmly planted in the hear and now and his dream came first." It's like ping-pong in my head....or maybe tennis....
That's where I am today. Not sure what the heck I should be thinking at this crossroads, which way I should be turning, trying to tell myself to "just get over it" and get back to the plan at hand. But God does say to bring Him your wishes and desires, your dreams and innermost thoughts. So, I guess it can't hurt to add this dream to the prayer about meeting the school bus. It doesn't waste anything to pray. I will just have to leave it in HIS hands that if it's a dream I'm meant to fulfill, He'll find the way to make it happen. And if it's something I'm supposed to let go of, he'll give me peace about that too. Fingers and toes crossed too, just for good luck. LOL
Happy Friday everyone. Best of luck to each of you on making YOUR dreams come true.
For me it was a big change in my work situation. For the past several months, I'd been working mostly from home and it has been a blessing for many reasons. Abruptly, that all changed mid-day on Tuesday. And it made me realize that it's not the job I enjoyed, but the flexibility it offered me. I worked my butt off and still put in 40+ hours a week, but I was able to do it in my yoga pants most days. :-) My boss was very hands off and seemed to have faith and trust that I was working hard and getting everything done. I would get compliments frequently about helping others and I felt pretty proud of myself for that. However, either something I did upset the apple cart or maybe my boss started to regret the long leash I was on. Either way, that leash got shortened dramatically and it's left me feeling very frustrated.
Since that day, there have been several discussions at home about what to do now? Our situation went from being pretty ideal to being a big pain in the you know what. We talked about me giving notice, but I'm the benefit holder for the family. And no matter what is said out there, I just have a hard time believing with my medical history that we could get comprehensive, affordable health care. Also, with Alex starting kindergarten, I was looking forward to not having to pay child care and just putting aside my paycheck for the future.
Then I go back to - this is not going to work. And I'm not happy. But when you're an adult with a child, bills, and other responsibilities, is "not being happy" a reason to end a job? In my opinion, no. I know we live in a "feel-good" society where people think they deserve the best of everything, but that's not reality. As my husband frequently says: you can want in one hand, and well, you know, in the other.
But in the few moments I allow myself to dream or take those "what job were you meant to do?" quizzes, I think about what it would be like to write full time. I follow several blogs and I have to admit that I've had moments of jealousy, moments where I wish that I could do that full time. One woman mentioned how that is her full time job with a nice paycheck and I asked myself: how do I do that? And just like my dream of picking Alex up from the bus, it has seeped into my brain. And I'm trying my best to get it out, because I know it's a pipe dream. I don't have NEAR enough followers of my silly ramblings to turn it into a paycheck. And why would any advertisers want to pay me for what I write? It's not like anything I have to say is going to change the world. And there are a BAZILLION blogs out there - is there REALLY room for one more?
Then this morning, I was looking through my Facebook newsfeed and came across this: "CALLING ALL BLOGGERS. Blogcamp webinar. How to start a PROFITABLE blog people will read." And of course my mind started going. Was it a sign or was it something to just further encourage my crazy dream? Was it God trying to let me know I should pursue something I loved to do or the devil trying to reinforce the "I'm not happy" thoughts? So, my mind has been going back and forth. "Vicki, you make relatively good money for what you do. Suck it up and deal with the cards you're dealt. You're not the dreamer, you're the realist." Then: "But you are the first to tell Matt to follow his dream since he doesn't love what he's doing. Why not try and follow yours?" Then: "you can't have two people trying to follow their dreams. One person has to keep their feet firmly planted in the hear and now and his dream came first." It's like ping-pong in my head....or maybe tennis....
That's where I am today. Not sure what the heck I should be thinking at this crossroads, which way I should be turning, trying to tell myself to "just get over it" and get back to the plan at hand. But God does say to bring Him your wishes and desires, your dreams and innermost thoughts. So, I guess it can't hurt to add this dream to the prayer about meeting the school bus. It doesn't waste anything to pray. I will just have to leave it in HIS hands that if it's a dream I'm meant to fulfill, He'll find the way to make it happen. And if it's something I'm supposed to let go of, he'll give me peace about that too. Fingers and toes crossed too, just for good luck. LOL
Happy Friday everyone. Best of luck to each of you on making YOUR dreams come true.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Role model? Not in my eyes
The other night I was "talking" to a friend on Facebook, someone who had been a huge support through my cancer battle. As we were about to sign off, he said "you rock. You're my role model". I responded with "good Lord, why would I be your role model? I'm not someone to look up to!" He replied: "With God's help, you told cancer to screw off". I answered with: "looking back, I think I was just a big cry baby." He said: "yeah, well......lol" And of course my mind started whirling with doubts: Did he really think I was a cry baby? Was he just teasing? Did other people think I'd been a cry baby more than I'd been tough? Did people talk about how much of a whiner I was? And on my brain went. Never mind that the whole thing started with him telling me I was his role model.
Why was I taking one joke and getting so insecure? And why did it matter at all?? Why did I care what people thought of how I handled the cancer fight? It shouldn't matter in the least. I told myself that sometimes I was strong and some days I was weak. Some days I had faith and some days I had none. Some days I wore a big smile and others I cried my eyes out. Over that two year battle, there was no "one" emotion, so single way of acting. It was up and down, left and right, upside down and inside out. But the main thing was the outcome, right? Why is that we're expected to kick cancer's butt AND do it with a huge smile planted on our face the whole time?
Well, we're not. That's an expectation I have of myself. I remember so many times saying to Matt that I wanted him and his family to be proud of how I handled things. I probably said it more than "I hate cancer". And I just as clearly remember the odd look he would give me for saying it. It made no sense to him, and I couldn't explain it. And I'm not sure I can now. Other than I wanted him to be able to say "I'm so proud of how tough my wife was. How strong she was through the fight. How she never gave up."
Unfortunately I don't think he can say that and, yes, it bothers me. Looking back, I don't think I was all that tough or strong. And there were SEVERAL times I tried to give up. Does he care about that? NO! Not at all! Do I? I hate to admit it, but yes. So, I've sworn that if I faced something similar again, I'd be even tougher. Even stronger.
We've been going through some challenges and I find myself doing the same thing. Saying I want him to be proud of me, that I want him to think I'm tough. And I get the same strange look each time I say it. And as I write this, I see how that need is sapping my energy to actually fight the fight. Because I put up such a front, one that's impossible to carry for long and I inadvertently end up falling apart. Probably worse than if I had just stopped pretending. Well, not probably...definitely.
So, what's the lesson from all this? That I shouldn't care so much about how people view me during a struggle. I should worry more about the actual struggle. That I need to take the mental energy I'm wasting and put it towards the important things. And by making this change, I'll end up having fewer "lows" in this roller coaster called life. Now let's see if I can just actually make that change. Fingers and toes crossed.
Love to you all.
Why was I taking one joke and getting so insecure? And why did it matter at all?? Why did I care what people thought of how I handled the cancer fight? It shouldn't matter in the least. I told myself that sometimes I was strong and some days I was weak. Some days I had faith and some days I had none. Some days I wore a big smile and others I cried my eyes out. Over that two year battle, there was no "one" emotion, so single way of acting. It was up and down, left and right, upside down and inside out. But the main thing was the outcome, right? Why is that we're expected to kick cancer's butt AND do it with a huge smile planted on our face the whole time?
Well, we're not. That's an expectation I have of myself. I remember so many times saying to Matt that I wanted him and his family to be proud of how I handled things. I probably said it more than "I hate cancer". And I just as clearly remember the odd look he would give me for saying it. It made no sense to him, and I couldn't explain it. And I'm not sure I can now. Other than I wanted him to be able to say "I'm so proud of how tough my wife was. How strong she was through the fight. How she never gave up."
Unfortunately I don't think he can say that and, yes, it bothers me. Looking back, I don't think I was all that tough or strong. And there were SEVERAL times I tried to give up. Does he care about that? NO! Not at all! Do I? I hate to admit it, but yes. So, I've sworn that if I faced something similar again, I'd be even tougher. Even stronger.
We've been going through some challenges and I find myself doing the same thing. Saying I want him to be proud of me, that I want him to think I'm tough. And I get the same strange look each time I say it. And as I write this, I see how that need is sapping my energy to actually fight the fight. Because I put up such a front, one that's impossible to carry for long and I inadvertently end up falling apart. Probably worse than if I had just stopped pretending. Well, not probably...definitely.
So, what's the lesson from all this? That I shouldn't care so much about how people view me during a struggle. I should worry more about the actual struggle. That I need to take the mental energy I'm wasting and put it towards the important things. And by making this change, I'll end up having fewer "lows" in this roller coaster called life. Now let's see if I can just actually make that change. Fingers and toes crossed.
Love to you all.
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Missing the bus
When I was pregnant with Alex, I had a job and I totally planned on staying at that job after he was born. I had no desire to be a stay at home mom - nothing against stay at home moms. I just thought that I would miss the social interaction of the workplace. Until a few people close to me told me repeatedly that I would change my mind....and that's what happened. I began secretly longing to stay home with my baby. I knew it wasn't financially feasible, but I prayed about it every night.
Alex was born, we picked out a day care and made it there all of three days. With his reflux, he was just to sick to be under someone else's care and I was getting no sleep so I was in no condition to work. So, I got to be a stay at home mother for seven months. Now, maybe it wasn't the most ideal of situations but God did answer my prayer. And I learned I was right the first time - I wasn't meant to stay at home and neither was Alex. I needed to be at work and he needed to be at day care. So, when he stopped projectile vomiting at seven months, that's what we did. And I never regretted it. I knew it was the right thing for us both.
The only thing that stuck in the back of my mind was when he started Kindergarten. And how badly I wanted to be there to greet him at the bus. Again, I couldn't figure it out in my head, so I prayed about it. It became this big desire in my heart that I couldn't ignore. Other moms told me about how their kids would tell them all about their days right when they get off the bus. But if you wait until later, the day will be behind them and they won't share as much.
With how much I was working from home, I figured my boss would have no problem letting me meet the bus and then do more work when I got home. It seemed like the perfect plan. I was getting excited. I thought God had answered my prayers. All I had to do was wait for my boss to finally be in town so I could ask him face to face. Which happened today. And the craziest thing happened - he said no. No to meeting the bus. And no to anymore working from home, effective this week.
It was like someone kicked me in the stomach. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how desperately I wanted him to say yes. How I had built it in my mind as the perfect scenario. And how badly I wanted to crawl under my chair and cry. I just looked at him, said okay, and went back to my cubicle. And as much as I shouldn't write this, I started doubting God. I asked why He had let this happen. I'd had a great thing going and this would have just made it perfect. I didn't think it was asking too much. I was pretty ticked off with Him, to be honest.
Then I looked over at a sign hanging on my wall that I'd gotten from a friend when trying to get pregnant. And it says "Three answers God may give: 1. Yes 2. Not yet 3. I have something better in mind. So, as hard as it is today, I'm trying to believe that it's number two - not yet. Maybe I won't meet the bus next week or next month or even this year. But I'll keep praying that He finds a way to make it happen. In the meantime, don't mind me if you see me crying under a chair somewhere. 😉
P.S. I know plenty of moms don't get to meet the bus and I'm being a big old whiny crybaby, so please forget all you just read. Thanks! 😃😃😃
Alex was born, we picked out a day care and made it there all of three days. With his reflux, he was just to sick to be under someone else's care and I was getting no sleep so I was in no condition to work. So, I got to be a stay at home mother for seven months. Now, maybe it wasn't the most ideal of situations but God did answer my prayer. And I learned I was right the first time - I wasn't meant to stay at home and neither was Alex. I needed to be at work and he needed to be at day care. So, when he stopped projectile vomiting at seven months, that's what we did. And I never regretted it. I knew it was the right thing for us both.
The only thing that stuck in the back of my mind was when he started Kindergarten. And how badly I wanted to be there to greet him at the bus. Again, I couldn't figure it out in my head, so I prayed about it. It became this big desire in my heart that I couldn't ignore. Other moms told me about how their kids would tell them all about their days right when they get off the bus. But if you wait until later, the day will be behind them and they won't share as much.
With how much I was working from home, I figured my boss would have no problem letting me meet the bus and then do more work when I got home. It seemed like the perfect plan. I was getting excited. I thought God had answered my prayers. All I had to do was wait for my boss to finally be in town so I could ask him face to face. Which happened today. And the craziest thing happened - he said no. No to meeting the bus. And no to anymore working from home, effective this week.
It was like someone kicked me in the stomach. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how desperately I wanted him to say yes. How I had built it in my mind as the perfect scenario. And how badly I wanted to crawl under my chair and cry. I just looked at him, said okay, and went back to my cubicle. And as much as I shouldn't write this, I started doubting God. I asked why He had let this happen. I'd had a great thing going and this would have just made it perfect. I didn't think it was asking too much. I was pretty ticked off with Him, to be honest.
Then I looked over at a sign hanging on my wall that I'd gotten from a friend when trying to get pregnant. And it says "Three answers God may give: 1. Yes 2. Not yet 3. I have something better in mind. So, as hard as it is today, I'm trying to believe that it's number two - not yet. Maybe I won't meet the bus next week or next month or even this year. But I'll keep praying that He finds a way to make it happen. In the meantime, don't mind me if you see me crying under a chair somewhere. 😉
P.S. I know plenty of moms don't get to meet the bus and I'm being a big old whiny crybaby, so please forget all you just read. Thanks! 😃😃😃
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Paying it back
A little over a month ago, I was with Alex at a birthday party for one of his friends. It was the same day that Matt went to the doctor to find out about his knee, in fact he was there at the exact same time. I was a bundle of nerves; I was praying that God would give us good news but deep inside I was imagining the worst. What if he needed surgery? What would we do then? And I didn't recognize any of the parents at the party, so there was no one to talk to to take my mind off things. Until I looked around and saw the great-grandfather of one of the other little boys. I'd seen him around before, but didn't know what the situation was and why he was the one always accompanying the boy and his sister.
Mostly to take my mind off things, I went over to chat with him. And after about ten minutes, I realized it was a total God thing that he was there. Because his life story completely made me realize how blessed I was. Even if Mattt needed surgery and we lost his income for months, it was not 1/10 of what this man had been through. I learned that he was helping to raise his great-grandchildren because their mother had died of a drug overdose and their father is currently a drug addict and not really in the picture. The grandmother has physical custody, but has to still work to provide for the children, so this gentleman takes care of them when they are not in school. At 86 years old. Juggling a five and seven year old. When he should just be hanging out enjoying the last phase of his life.
I could go on and on about this family's story, but what struck me most that day was the little girl. And how she was doing everything in her power to get my attention. From what I learned, she was old enough when her mother passed away to remember her. And miss her. So, according to the great-grandfather, she just longs for the attention of a young lady (I thanked him for putting me in that category). That's when I realized that God put this man in my path for two reasons. The first to help me to stay calm that day, which he did perfectly. And the second was to do what I could to help this family. So, I gave him my number and told him I'd love to have the kids over to our neighborhood pool for a play date. I've had so many people in my life be there for me, ones that weren't obligated, and I realized it was my turn to give back.
It took awhile to make it happen (the 5 year old cut his arm pretty badly and couldn't get it wet for a month) but this past week we finally had that play date. And my heart is still overflowing from the experience. Alex and the boy had a great time playing together, but more importantly this little girl got some much needed female attention. She kept calling out "Miss Vicki, watch this, Miss Vicki, see this." So many times that the great-grandfather apologized on her behalf. I told him to stop apologizing because she was the reason I was there. That God put her in my path to help. And that I wanted to help. And that I planned on helping.
By the end of the two hours we spent together, she had slipped once and called me Aunt Vicki and I just let it go. And before we said our goodbyes, she and I had planned a girls' outing to the mall and for pedicures. And it's one date that I absolutely will not miss out on. I feel like it's a relationship that God has tasked me with and one that I'm more than happy to cultivate. And in all honesty, I feel proud that He felt me worthy of being there for this little girl. I hope I can make Him proud.
So, just remember, the people that we meet may be important for one of three reasons: they may be there to help us, they may be there to be helped BY us or it might just be a little bit of both. And each set is equally important. It's just figuring out which it is than can be the rough part. Luckily God made this one pretty clear.
Mostly to take my mind off things, I went over to chat with him. And after about ten minutes, I realized it was a total God thing that he was there. Because his life story completely made me realize how blessed I was. Even if Mattt needed surgery and we lost his income for months, it was not 1/10 of what this man had been through. I learned that he was helping to raise his great-grandchildren because their mother had died of a drug overdose and their father is currently a drug addict and not really in the picture. The grandmother has physical custody, but has to still work to provide for the children, so this gentleman takes care of them when they are not in school. At 86 years old. Juggling a five and seven year old. When he should just be hanging out enjoying the last phase of his life.
I could go on and on about this family's story, but what struck me most that day was the little girl. And how she was doing everything in her power to get my attention. From what I learned, she was old enough when her mother passed away to remember her. And miss her. So, according to the great-grandfather, she just longs for the attention of a young lady (I thanked him for putting me in that category). That's when I realized that God put this man in my path for two reasons. The first to help me to stay calm that day, which he did perfectly. And the second was to do what I could to help this family. So, I gave him my number and told him I'd love to have the kids over to our neighborhood pool for a play date. I've had so many people in my life be there for me, ones that weren't obligated, and I realized it was my turn to give back.
It took awhile to make it happen (the 5 year old cut his arm pretty badly and couldn't get it wet for a month) but this past week we finally had that play date. And my heart is still overflowing from the experience. Alex and the boy had a great time playing together, but more importantly this little girl got some much needed female attention. She kept calling out "Miss Vicki, watch this, Miss Vicki, see this." So many times that the great-grandfather apologized on her behalf. I told him to stop apologizing because she was the reason I was there. That God put her in my path to help. And that I wanted to help. And that I planned on helping.
By the end of the two hours we spent together, she had slipped once and called me Aunt Vicki and I just let it go. And before we said our goodbyes, she and I had planned a girls' outing to the mall and for pedicures. And it's one date that I absolutely will not miss out on. I feel like it's a relationship that God has tasked me with and one that I'm more than happy to cultivate. And in all honesty, I feel proud that He felt me worthy of being there for this little girl. I hope I can make Him proud.
So, just remember, the people that we meet may be important for one of three reasons: they may be there to help us, they may be there to be helped BY us or it might just be a little bit of both. And each set is equally important. It's just figuring out which it is than can be the rough part. Luckily God made this one pretty clear.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Kindergarten teacher
Almost from the time Alex was born it's like the world has been prepping him for kindergarten. Kind of like when I was growing up, the world was prepping me for college. But these days, you have to start a lot earlier I guess. I was told how important it was to get him into the right preschool so they would get him prepped for "real school". Then on the first day of pre-K, I was told by his teacher "they won't let him get away with that in Kindergarten." I looked at her with shock and thought "that is almost a year away." It was like he was supposed to be ready, even though I thought the point of pre-K was to prepare him. Guess I was wrong....
Along with this prepping him for Kindergarten, I was told about "writing the letter". This was a letter that I should write that explained his personality, his behavior, sord of like an 'introduction to Alex'. I was told this was super important because it would help him get the right Kindergarten teacher. From the time he was about 3 1/2, I was mentally preparing this letter in my head. I bought into how important it was because he is so hyper and let's be honest - there is no other child quite like Alex. I love him more than life itself, but even I know he is quite a handful. And it takes a certain person to be able to handle his energy and keep him in line. So, definitely I had to write that letter.
Even with all this 'prepping', I didn't find out about Kindergarten registration until about two weeks beforehand. And it was going to take place one day after we were returning from vacation. So, I started filling out forms, getting copies made, retrieving his social security card and birth certificate from the safe deposit box (because those things can not be kept in a safe - yes, Matt, I am poking fun at you). I had my pile all ready for when we got back from Florida. I was proud of myself for being uber-organized.
The day of registration went fine, other than Alex being super shy and not wanting to enter the building. But we got through it. I'd remembered every form, every proof of residency, every check I'd needed to write. Or so I thought....
When I got home, I talked to one of my best friends and she asked if I had remembered to turn in "the letter" with my forms. And it hit me like a ton of bricks - how did I forget to write the darn letter? I'd thought about that &*^% thing for two plus years! Then began all the questions in my head: what do I do now? Do I write the letter and see if I can still turn it in? Will it look worse to the administration if I tried that? At this point would it even be read? For days I went round and round and round. Until life took over and other things consumed my brain. From time to time I would remember that I hadn't written the letter and I would sit down and start a draft. But I could never figure out what to say. I didn't want to paint Alex as a "bad child" and have a teacher be turned against him from day one. But I also didn't want to paint him as the "perfect child" because I know he's not - none of them are.
So, I ended up never writing the letter. About a month had passed since registration and I decided at that point it was just too late and I needed to accept whatever teacher he got. It was as if God was telling me to "be still" and wait on Him. Through the next couple of months, I kept being reminded of another time in my life where he was telling me the same thing. A time where I needed to do nothing but be patient and turn it over to Him.
When Matt and I were going through fertility treatments, there were a million different things to test, check, watch, research, etc. In some ways that helped me through the pain of it all because it kept my brain occupied. But in other ways, it kept me so busy that I wasn't turning it over to God. I was trying to control each and every single solitary detail on my own. I remember being out to lunch with a friend and telling her I needed to stop at the drugstore. (Forgive the upcoming TMI but I couldn't figure out how to tell this story without the one detail). I wanted to stop and get an ovulation testing kit that the doctor's office had recommended. Even though I was being heavily monitored by their office, there were certain things I could be watching at home. So, after lunch, we swung by the drugstore. We went inside together, went to the aisle and I just stood there, staring at the shelf. I felt REALLY anxious inside, couldn't make a decision and told my friend "forget about it. I'll just get one on my way home."
After work that evening, I was driving home and I can remember this clear as if it just happened. I needed to go straight to head to the drugstore and turn right to head home. I sat at that stop sign so long that the person behind me honked. I just couldn't make myself go straight. It was like the car wouldn't go in that direction. So, I turned right, went home and felt an amazing sense of peace for that evening. I decided I would not be buying anymore of those kits and I needed to let it go. I couldn't plan every detail because it wasn't MY plan, it was HIS. It was the next week that I learned about the prayer and healing service at the church. And it was three weeks after that when we learned we were pregnant with Alex. To this day, I count that moment as instrumental in my journey. My journey of turning my life over to God. Have I tried to take it back a thousand times since? Yes. It's been a push-pull ever since. I won't say I'm perfect in this area by any means, but I can honestly say I try. I try to remember that moment when I did nothing and it turned out perfectly. I try to remember that God didn't need my help AT ALL. Alex is proof of that.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. Alex and I go to the Elementary school to re-register him and get the name of his teacher. As soon as we walk out the door, I send a teacher-friend from the same school a Facebook message. She messages back quickly to tell me it's a good fit and we'll love her. One of my best friends asks her teacher friend what she thinks. She writes back "That is a great fit. She's sweet, funny and a great teacher!" I posted on a Chelsea website about what teacher your child got and here are some of the responses I received on that site: You will love her, She's an amazing teacher, My little girl loves her, She's so sweet, She's great and fun with the kids, She is incredible, She is wonderful."
Of course, with each message, my sense of peace kept rising. It was like a warm, comfortable blanket being draped over my body. And in my mind, that feeling was directly from God. Him telling me that He had it under control from the beginning. That I did the write thing by NOT writing that letter. That Alex's life is in His hands, NOT mine. And any last bit of worry about the start of Kindergarten was wiped from my brain. I knew at that moment that whatever hurdles we might face, God would handle them - they were NOT up to me to solve. If Alex's ADHD became an issue without medication, He would show us the correct plan. I didn't need to have everything figured out myself, because MY plan didn't matter anyway.
Will Alex and his new teacher get along perfectly? I'm sure not. Will he try and push her buttons? Absolutely. Will he get in trouble sometime during the year? Most definitely. Is she who my son is supposed to have? ABSOLUTELY. And that knowledge has given me permission to get out of the way. Fully out of the way. I don't know how to teach, but I have absolute faith that she does. And I know that I couldn't have picked the right teacher on my own. Because I don't have THE plan. Just another reminder to be still and wait on Him. Hopefully a reminder that will stay in my brain through the school year.
Hope everyone has a great day. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Love to all.
Along with this prepping him for Kindergarten, I was told about "writing the letter". This was a letter that I should write that explained his personality, his behavior, sord of like an 'introduction to Alex'. I was told this was super important because it would help him get the right Kindergarten teacher. From the time he was about 3 1/2, I was mentally preparing this letter in my head. I bought into how important it was because he is so hyper and let's be honest - there is no other child quite like Alex. I love him more than life itself, but even I know he is quite a handful. And it takes a certain person to be able to handle his energy and keep him in line. So, definitely I had to write that letter.
Even with all this 'prepping', I didn't find out about Kindergarten registration until about two weeks beforehand. And it was going to take place one day after we were returning from vacation. So, I started filling out forms, getting copies made, retrieving his social security card and birth certificate from the safe deposit box (because those things can not be kept in a safe - yes, Matt, I am poking fun at you). I had my pile all ready for when we got back from Florida. I was proud of myself for being uber-organized.
The day of registration went fine, other than Alex being super shy and not wanting to enter the building. But we got through it. I'd remembered every form, every proof of residency, every check I'd needed to write. Or so I thought....
When I got home, I talked to one of my best friends and she asked if I had remembered to turn in "the letter" with my forms. And it hit me like a ton of bricks - how did I forget to write the darn letter? I'd thought about that &*^% thing for two plus years! Then began all the questions in my head: what do I do now? Do I write the letter and see if I can still turn it in? Will it look worse to the administration if I tried that? At this point would it even be read? For days I went round and round and round. Until life took over and other things consumed my brain. From time to time I would remember that I hadn't written the letter and I would sit down and start a draft. But I could never figure out what to say. I didn't want to paint Alex as a "bad child" and have a teacher be turned against him from day one. But I also didn't want to paint him as the "perfect child" because I know he's not - none of them are.
So, I ended up never writing the letter. About a month had passed since registration and I decided at that point it was just too late and I needed to accept whatever teacher he got. It was as if God was telling me to "be still" and wait on Him. Through the next couple of months, I kept being reminded of another time in my life where he was telling me the same thing. A time where I needed to do nothing but be patient and turn it over to Him.
When Matt and I were going through fertility treatments, there were a million different things to test, check, watch, research, etc. In some ways that helped me through the pain of it all because it kept my brain occupied. But in other ways, it kept me so busy that I wasn't turning it over to God. I was trying to control each and every single solitary detail on my own. I remember being out to lunch with a friend and telling her I needed to stop at the drugstore. (Forgive the upcoming TMI but I couldn't figure out how to tell this story without the one detail). I wanted to stop and get an ovulation testing kit that the doctor's office had recommended. Even though I was being heavily monitored by their office, there were certain things I could be watching at home. So, after lunch, we swung by the drugstore. We went inside together, went to the aisle and I just stood there, staring at the shelf. I felt REALLY anxious inside, couldn't make a decision and told my friend "forget about it. I'll just get one on my way home."
After work that evening, I was driving home and I can remember this clear as if it just happened. I needed to go straight to head to the drugstore and turn right to head home. I sat at that stop sign so long that the person behind me honked. I just couldn't make myself go straight. It was like the car wouldn't go in that direction. So, I turned right, went home and felt an amazing sense of peace for that evening. I decided I would not be buying anymore of those kits and I needed to let it go. I couldn't plan every detail because it wasn't MY plan, it was HIS. It was the next week that I learned about the prayer and healing service at the church. And it was three weeks after that when we learned we were pregnant with Alex. To this day, I count that moment as instrumental in my journey. My journey of turning my life over to God. Have I tried to take it back a thousand times since? Yes. It's been a push-pull ever since. I won't say I'm perfect in this area by any means, but I can honestly say I try. I try to remember that moment when I did nothing and it turned out perfectly. I try to remember that God didn't need my help AT ALL. Alex is proof of that.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. Alex and I go to the Elementary school to re-register him and get the name of his teacher. As soon as we walk out the door, I send a teacher-friend from the same school a Facebook message. She messages back quickly to tell me it's a good fit and we'll love her. One of my best friends asks her teacher friend what she thinks. She writes back "That is a great fit. She's sweet, funny and a great teacher!" I posted on a Chelsea website about what teacher your child got and here are some of the responses I received on that site: You will love her, She's an amazing teacher, My little girl loves her, She's so sweet, She's great and fun with the kids, She is incredible, She is wonderful."
Of course, with each message, my sense of peace kept rising. It was like a warm, comfortable blanket being draped over my body. And in my mind, that feeling was directly from God. Him telling me that He had it under control from the beginning. That I did the write thing by NOT writing that letter. That Alex's life is in His hands, NOT mine. And any last bit of worry about the start of Kindergarten was wiped from my brain. I knew at that moment that whatever hurdles we might face, God would handle them - they were NOT up to me to solve. If Alex's ADHD became an issue without medication, He would show us the correct plan. I didn't need to have everything figured out myself, because MY plan didn't matter anyway.
Will Alex and his new teacher get along perfectly? I'm sure not. Will he try and push her buttons? Absolutely. Will he get in trouble sometime during the year? Most definitely. Is she who my son is supposed to have? ABSOLUTELY. And that knowledge has given me permission to get out of the way. Fully out of the way. I don't know how to teach, but I have absolute faith that she does. And I know that I couldn't have picked the right teacher on my own. Because I don't have THE plan. Just another reminder to be still and wait on Him. Hopefully a reminder that will stay in my brain through the school year.
Hope everyone has a great day. Thanks for reading my ramblings. Love to all.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Learning from our children
Since I found out I was pregnant, I started a list in my head of all the things I wanted to teach Alex: to be tough, yet sensitive. To be sweet and kind, but not let anyone walk over him. To enjoy life, to laugh and be silly. To be respectful of Matt and I and especially, to LOVE the Lord. As all parents do, I've spent many a night, wide awake, worrying how I'm doing as a mother. Is he learning all the things I want him to? Is he becoming the little man I pray for? Or am I failing him and making a bazillion mistakes.
But lately it seems like HE is the one teaching me. He's growing into his own person and getting me to see the world through HIS eyes. And I have to admit, life as seen by a five year old is MUCH more fun!
Driving down the road, he'll point out how beautiful the clouds or sunset is - things I would most likely not even notice because I'd be too busy. Too busy worrying about things nowhere near as breathtaking as these sights.
At bedtime, if I forget the nightly prayer, he will remind me. And listening to him talk to the man upstairs, it brings me back to the basics. He thanks God for me, his Daddy, the dogs, the cat, his grandparents, his cousins, our friends, his church, the sun, the moon and all the love in the world. Really, what else is there?
He reminds me that God told us not to hate, that hate is bad and it makes Him sad. He tells me that we should love each other because that's what makes Him happy. And boy, there are days I REALLY need that reminder.
Last night, he couldn't reach his blanky and he asked for my help. I am teaching him that he doesn't need Mommy's help for everything so I said "you can get it yourself". He told me that wasn't very nice because God taught us to help each other and be a team and that I wasn't being a good team player. It was an eye opening moment that showed me how my "teaching moment" was focused in the wrong area.
One of the songs on my iPod is "Just the way you are" by Bruno Mars. I've heard that song a thousand times before, and thought I knew it by heart. That is until Alex started singing the words to me and decided it was "our song". He asked me if I'd ever truly listened to the words. I of course said "yes". He told me to listen again because it's how he felt about me. It's amazing how you get a different perspective when listening as your child would.
Over the last several weeks, we've been in different situations where Alex has met a bunch of new people. Birthday parties, a wedding, summer camp, etc. And each time when he plays with someone, they become his "best" friend. Not just a new friend, but his BEST friend. He told me this morning that he's so lucky to have so many BEST friends. If only adults could look at it the same way - that each new person brought into our lives could be a BEST friend.
It's no secret that Alex is small for his age. And there are times that I worry about that. I worry that he'll get picked on. I worry that he'll feel like he doesn't fit in with the other kids. I worry that he'll get scared around bigger kids. And as I'm worrying, he's just living life and having a blast. This morning while I was getting ready for work, he told me he forgot to tell me a story about yesterday. He told me that one big kid was picking on him and it made him a little sad. But then a couple other kids told him he was really cute and asked him to play with them. He told me that those other kids were now his friends and the first boy just didn't matter. If only I could have the same outlook - to brush aside the ONE person who may make fun of me and embrace ALL THE OTHERS who want me around.
Sunday night after Alex was a ring bearer in a wedding, we were driving home together. He told me he was sad that the bride was moving away and he wouldn't see her anymore. But then he told me that she would always be in our hearts because that's where love stays. Such a great reminder that even though we may not see people face to face, it doesn't mean we lose them.
Last week, I was so worried about finding the right devotional, the right Bible verses, the right Christian songs to lead me through the day. And yes, those are all an important way to shape our reltationship with God. But today I realize that all these different "Alexisms" are also teaching me so much. I'm learning to have faith like a child, to embrace life like a child, to love like a child, and to enjoy EVERY little thing in the day like a child.
Thank you God for putting this special child in my life. I hope I keep learning from Him - because something tells me he still has a lot to share.
But lately it seems like HE is the one teaching me. He's growing into his own person and getting me to see the world through HIS eyes. And I have to admit, life as seen by a five year old is MUCH more fun!
Driving down the road, he'll point out how beautiful the clouds or sunset is - things I would most likely not even notice because I'd be too busy. Too busy worrying about things nowhere near as breathtaking as these sights.
At bedtime, if I forget the nightly prayer, he will remind me. And listening to him talk to the man upstairs, it brings me back to the basics. He thanks God for me, his Daddy, the dogs, the cat, his grandparents, his cousins, our friends, his church, the sun, the moon and all the love in the world. Really, what else is there?
He reminds me that God told us not to hate, that hate is bad and it makes Him sad. He tells me that we should love each other because that's what makes Him happy. And boy, there are days I REALLY need that reminder.
Last night, he couldn't reach his blanky and he asked for my help. I am teaching him that he doesn't need Mommy's help for everything so I said "you can get it yourself". He told me that wasn't very nice because God taught us to help each other and be a team and that I wasn't being a good team player. It was an eye opening moment that showed me how my "teaching moment" was focused in the wrong area.
One of the songs on my iPod is "Just the way you are" by Bruno Mars. I've heard that song a thousand times before, and thought I knew it by heart. That is until Alex started singing the words to me and decided it was "our song". He asked me if I'd ever truly listened to the words. I of course said "yes". He told me to listen again because it's how he felt about me. It's amazing how you get a different perspective when listening as your child would.
Over the last several weeks, we've been in different situations where Alex has met a bunch of new people. Birthday parties, a wedding, summer camp, etc. And each time when he plays with someone, they become his "best" friend. Not just a new friend, but his BEST friend. He told me this morning that he's so lucky to have so many BEST friends. If only adults could look at it the same way - that each new person brought into our lives could be a BEST friend.
It's no secret that Alex is small for his age. And there are times that I worry about that. I worry that he'll get picked on. I worry that he'll feel like he doesn't fit in with the other kids. I worry that he'll get scared around bigger kids. And as I'm worrying, he's just living life and having a blast. This morning while I was getting ready for work, he told me he forgot to tell me a story about yesterday. He told me that one big kid was picking on him and it made him a little sad. But then a couple other kids told him he was really cute and asked him to play with them. He told me that those other kids were now his friends and the first boy just didn't matter. If only I could have the same outlook - to brush aside the ONE person who may make fun of me and embrace ALL THE OTHERS who want me around.
Sunday night after Alex was a ring bearer in a wedding, we were driving home together. He told me he was sad that the bride was moving away and he wouldn't see her anymore. But then he told me that she would always be in our hearts because that's where love stays. Such a great reminder that even though we may not see people face to face, it doesn't mean we lose them.
Last week, I was so worried about finding the right devotional, the right Bible verses, the right Christian songs to lead me through the day. And yes, those are all an important way to shape our reltationship with God. But today I realize that all these different "Alexisms" are also teaching me so much. I'm learning to have faith like a child, to embrace life like a child, to love like a child, and to enjoy EVERY little thing in the day like a child.
Thank you God for putting this special child in my life. I hope I keep learning from Him - because something tells me he still has a lot to share.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Feeling the worry and letting it go
Yesterday Alex had a pediatrician's appointment to see how he was doing on his medication and check his weight. About an hour beforehand, I could feel the worry creeping in. What if he'd lost weight? Would we need to change medications? Would we find one that would work with our insurance? Would she want to stop him altogether? He's calmer on the medication, so what would we do then. Each time one of these thoughts came up, I asked God to take them away. I prayed that he would ease my worry and help me deal with whatever scenario came up. So, by the time I picked up Alex, I was feeling much more peaceful. Until he stepped on the scale.....
36.5 lbs it read. Without realizing, i said "ughhhhhh, no". It was one of those things you think you said in your head until you look around and see the nurses looking at you. And then Alex looked at the nurses and said "my Mommy doesn't like scales." Leave it to my little guy to break the negative vibe with a joke. But even though I started laughing along with the others, the worry was back. And I found myself giving into it. I mean, come on God (I was thinking, not saying out loud this time), what am I supposed to do? Do we not have enough on our plates right now? How do you make a child eat that has absolutely no appetite? In that moment, it just felt like ONE. MORE. THING. One more thing I didn't know how to figure out. One more thing I didn't have the answers to. One more thing I felt like I'd been fighting forever and not getting anywhere.
When we went into the room, I got this feeling in the back of my head that I should be doing something. I couldn't figure out what it was. I checked my e-mails, my texts, facebook - nothing looked outstanding. Then I realized it was my subconscious reminding me to pray. I wasn't sure what to pray for, so I just prayed for peace.
The appointment actually went well. The doctor noticed that Alex was much calmer, but still had his same cute personality. We decided, together, that having him on something was helpful, but we needed to make a change. He was taking Adderall, which is in the ampethamine family of drugs, and it can be worse for reducing appetite and weight loss. The doctor was great about choosing a medicine that was covered by our insurance so I was feeling really good. Until....she seriously brought up his weight. She told me everything I already knew. He'd lost 3.5 lbs in less than two months, he was already underweight to begin with, now he was 5% on the weight chart, at this age he should be gaining, not losing, etc. She went through all different ways to try to get him to eat, all things I had tried. She ended the appointment by saying we would check his weight in a month and if he'd lost any more weight, we'd have to come up with a plan. I wasn't sure what else we could try so I just said okay.
On the way home, I continued to pray for peace. I prayed that God would keep the worry from coming back. That He would let me know He had it under control. I told myself that we were so blessed because Alex's ears looked crystal clear and that in itself is HUGE. I told myself that in the scheme of all the other things Alex has dealth with health-wise, this wasn't nearly as bad. I reminded myself that we had figured all the other things out and we would this one too.
But I still had a heaviness on my chest. Even though I was praying, I could tell I wasn't totally releasing the situation to God. I got Alex his dinner (yeah, he was eating!) and sat down with my iPad to read one of my daily devotionals. And found my comfort. Here was my prayer for yesterday:
"Dear Jesus, you know that I often let circumstances determine my happiness. You know that I often allow the killjoys of problems and pressures to rob my happiness. Help me to look at every problem in my life from your viewpoint. I want to handle problems in a way that is a witness to nonbelievers and an encouragement to believers. As for the things that happen that I don't understand or can't figure out, I want to trust you to work it all out for good. Help me to stay focused on your purpose for my life and not my problems. In your name I pray, Amen."
Perfect words for the day. And the heaviness on my chest disappeared. And I truly gave the situation to Him, I released it. There was nothing I could do that I hadn't already tried. Me worrying about it wasn't going to change a thing anyway. All I can do is get Alex to eat as much as possible when he IS hungry. Well, and also to remember to pray. So, today I pray that God will hold my son in His hands and take care of all areas of his health. To help the doctor and I make the right decisions. And to help me feel calm about those decisions. And to remember that He is in charge of the situation, NOT me.
Hope everyone has a fantastic day - a day that He made just for us.
36.5 lbs it read. Without realizing, i said "ughhhhhh, no". It was one of those things you think you said in your head until you look around and see the nurses looking at you. And then Alex looked at the nurses and said "my Mommy doesn't like scales." Leave it to my little guy to break the negative vibe with a joke. But even though I started laughing along with the others, the worry was back. And I found myself giving into it. I mean, come on God (I was thinking, not saying out loud this time), what am I supposed to do? Do we not have enough on our plates right now? How do you make a child eat that has absolutely no appetite? In that moment, it just felt like ONE. MORE. THING. One more thing I didn't know how to figure out. One more thing I didn't have the answers to. One more thing I felt like I'd been fighting forever and not getting anywhere.
When we went into the room, I got this feeling in the back of my head that I should be doing something. I couldn't figure out what it was. I checked my e-mails, my texts, facebook - nothing looked outstanding. Then I realized it was my subconscious reminding me to pray. I wasn't sure what to pray for, so I just prayed for peace.
The appointment actually went well. The doctor noticed that Alex was much calmer, but still had his same cute personality. We decided, together, that having him on something was helpful, but we needed to make a change. He was taking Adderall, which is in the ampethamine family of drugs, and it can be worse for reducing appetite and weight loss. The doctor was great about choosing a medicine that was covered by our insurance so I was feeling really good. Until....she seriously brought up his weight. She told me everything I already knew. He'd lost 3.5 lbs in less than two months, he was already underweight to begin with, now he was 5% on the weight chart, at this age he should be gaining, not losing, etc. She went through all different ways to try to get him to eat, all things I had tried. She ended the appointment by saying we would check his weight in a month and if he'd lost any more weight, we'd have to come up with a plan. I wasn't sure what else we could try so I just said okay.
On the way home, I continued to pray for peace. I prayed that God would keep the worry from coming back. That He would let me know He had it under control. I told myself that we were so blessed because Alex's ears looked crystal clear and that in itself is HUGE. I told myself that in the scheme of all the other things Alex has dealth with health-wise, this wasn't nearly as bad. I reminded myself that we had figured all the other things out and we would this one too.
But I still had a heaviness on my chest. Even though I was praying, I could tell I wasn't totally releasing the situation to God. I got Alex his dinner (yeah, he was eating!) and sat down with my iPad to read one of my daily devotionals. And found my comfort. Here was my prayer for yesterday:
"Dear Jesus, you know that I often let circumstances determine my happiness. You know that I often allow the killjoys of problems and pressures to rob my happiness. Help me to look at every problem in my life from your viewpoint. I want to handle problems in a way that is a witness to nonbelievers and an encouragement to believers. As for the things that happen that I don't understand or can't figure out, I want to trust you to work it all out for good. Help me to stay focused on your purpose for my life and not my problems. In your name I pray, Amen."
Perfect words for the day. And the heaviness on my chest disappeared. And I truly gave the situation to Him, I released it. There was nothing I could do that I hadn't already tried. Me worrying about it wasn't going to change a thing anyway. All I can do is get Alex to eat as much as possible when he IS hungry. Well, and also to remember to pray. So, today I pray that God will hold my son in His hands and take care of all areas of his health. To help the doctor and I make the right decisions. And to help me feel calm about those decisions. And to remember that He is in charge of the situation, NOT me.
Hope everyone has a fantastic day - a day that He made just for us.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Being proud....and okay with that
The other day I was catching up on Facebook and read a post from a friend. She wrote that she was proud of herself as a mom and watching her son, she must have done something right. I had to re-read it because I thought I got it wrong at first. NOT that I disagreed - she IS a great Mom and has a wonderful son who I ADORE.
But I'm more use to reading posts where we doubt ourselves as moms, where we question ourselves or vent about a rough day with our kids. And here a mom was stating that she was proud of herself and I thought I read it wrong. And it got me asking: why? Are we groomed as women to be so modest that we fear it's wrong to celebrate our success? Do we think it's too prideful to announce how awesome we are? Are we worried that if we say "look at me, I truly ROCK" that someone will say, "no, really you don't"?
What made this post even more interesting to me is it was from a younger mom (younger to me means under 30, just so you know). Here I am, 41 years old, and I don't know that I would have felt comfortable enough to say that to the world. I still have enough doubt in myself as a mom and as an individual that I can't just celebrate, well, me. I may say I did this or that well, or I'm proud of the job I did on a certain task. But do I have enough confidence in myself to post "I am truly proud of the mother I am. Looking at my son, I must have done something right"? It is easy for me to praise Alex and the child he is, but not for me to take credit for that.
And again, I have to ask "why?" When he does something wrong, I quickly jump in to say "I'm sorry" for how he acted. Like I have some responsibility for his actions. So, if I can be held accountable for his negative actions, can't I also be praise for his positive ones. Isn't it fair to say that (along with my husband, of course) I have raised a fantastic child? He didn't just wander alone in the woods for 5 1/2 years and turn out this way on his own. I worked and prayed hard to help him become the person he is today.
To my friend who has more bravery in her twenties than I do at 41, I say thank you. Thank you for showing me it's okay to say "I'm an awesome Mom". Thank you for singing your own praises. They deserve to be sung! I hope you sing them every day and that others around you sing them too. And to all my other mom friends reading this (deep breath here), repeat after me: I am TRULY proud of the job I've done as a Mom. I have helped create, guide, mold, educate, and LOVED my precious child(ren) and they would NOT be who they are without me.
Was it hard to say? Yep, for me too. But I'm going to try and say it to myself every day until it sinks in. I hope you will join me and also sing your praises. I think it needs to be done.
God bless and here's to a fantastic new week. 😃😃😃
But I'm more use to reading posts where we doubt ourselves as moms, where we question ourselves or vent about a rough day with our kids. And here a mom was stating that she was proud of herself and I thought I read it wrong. And it got me asking: why? Are we groomed as women to be so modest that we fear it's wrong to celebrate our success? Do we think it's too prideful to announce how awesome we are? Are we worried that if we say "look at me, I truly ROCK" that someone will say, "no, really you don't"?
What made this post even more interesting to me is it was from a younger mom (younger to me means under 30, just so you know). Here I am, 41 years old, and I don't know that I would have felt comfortable enough to say that to the world. I still have enough doubt in myself as a mom and as an individual that I can't just celebrate, well, me. I may say I did this or that well, or I'm proud of the job I did on a certain task. But do I have enough confidence in myself to post "I am truly proud of the mother I am. Looking at my son, I must have done something right"? It is easy for me to praise Alex and the child he is, but not for me to take credit for that.
And again, I have to ask "why?" When he does something wrong, I quickly jump in to say "I'm sorry" for how he acted. Like I have some responsibility for his actions. So, if I can be held accountable for his negative actions, can't I also be praise for his positive ones. Isn't it fair to say that (along with my husband, of course) I have raised a fantastic child? He didn't just wander alone in the woods for 5 1/2 years and turn out this way on his own. I worked and prayed hard to help him become the person he is today.
To my friend who has more bravery in her twenties than I do at 41, I say thank you. Thank you for showing me it's okay to say "I'm an awesome Mom". Thank you for singing your own praises. They deserve to be sung! I hope you sing them every day and that others around you sing them too. And to all my other mom friends reading this (deep breath here), repeat after me: I am TRULY proud of the job I've done as a Mom. I have helped create, guide, mold, educate, and LOVED my precious child(ren) and they would NOT be who they are without me.
Was it hard to say? Yep, for me too. But I'm going to try and say it to myself every day until it sinks in. I hope you will join me and also sing your praises. I think it needs to be done.
God bless and here's to a fantastic new week. 😃😃😃
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Have you gone to HIS word?
For the past couple months, there have been some things I've been dealing with that have been bringing me down. I've prayed and prayed and prayed, but it seems like maybe God isn't hearing me. Or at least that's how I've felt. I've tried praying in my car, in bed, in the shower, on my knees, on the couch, at my desk, you name it, I've prayed there. I'll just randomly close my eyes and pray that God will show me what I'm supposed to be doing, what HE wants me to do. And all I've heard is silence. I'm left without a clue.
I've cried, I've pleaded, I've begged, I've demanded, I've tried making deals (if I do this or that, would He please give me an answer), I've been the martar, I've been the brat, you name it, I've tried it. And all I've heard is silence. And still left without a clue.
I've been sad, worried, angry, hurt, despondent, scared, mad, etc. And all I've heard is silence. And still left without a clue.
As you can see, what I've been doing hasn't been working. And then I was texting this morning with my sister-in-law (who I've always loved, but am totally adoring this morning) and she shared something very powerful. I don't think she could have had an idea of how greatly it would effect me. She texted: "Great power in His word. Phillipians 4:6". I told her I agreed, thanked her and we chatted a bit more. And then I went about my day. Until I started getting upset again about why I didn't know what His plan was. Why wasn't I hearing Him?
DUH!!!!!! is all I can say. Had I spent any time in His word like my sister-in-law had mentioned? Even one minute? I'm ashamed to say "no". Had I been doing a devotional? No. Had I even OPENED my Bible in search of answers? Big fat NO! Yet, I was almost indignant that I had not received the answers I was looking for. I thought I was being faithful by asking God to point me in the right direction, yet I was demanding it on MY terms. I was asking the questions and thought He should be answering me right then and there. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why He wasn't helping me.
But was I even trying to help myself? Sure, I was praying, but what else was I doing? Not much else. So, I decided to look up the verse that my sister-in-law had shared with me. Phillipians 4:6 "One God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." As I read this, it's saying to me that God has been there the whole time. He is in EVERY situation that I go through. He knows the outcome before I do. He has all the answers and is in charge over my entire life.
However, this verse does NOT say that He will SHARE all. He never states that He will give us all the answers we are looking for. As I read further down the page of my Bible, I found some verses I had previously highlighted and was struck deeply by chapter 5, verse 15: "Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil". As I read this, the word "unwise" leaped off the page at me. What does it mean to be wise versus unwise? Or maybe I should ask, how do we become wise? Well, when we are growing up, we become wise by going to school and learning. So, how do we become wise as Christians? By studying and learning from His word. Which I have not been doing.....Therefore, I have been unwise and that is why I have not been receiving the answers I have been looking for.
Sure, maybe I'm over simplfying things, but that's the only way I tend to "get it". I have to basically get hit over the head by the answer. And that's how it felt this morning. God was definitely telling me, through my sister-in-law, that I needed to be spending time in my Bible. I needed to be reading, searching, absorbing His words. I started panicing a bit that I didn't know where to start, but then He reminded me that it all started with one simple scripture verse and it brought me to others. Maybe there are days where I will just need to open the Bible at random and see where He leads me. That will definitely be better than not opening it at all. I'm also open to any devotionals that you guys have read that have helped you. I can definitely use all the guidance you're willing to offer.
So, today I feel better because I have a plan - READ MY BIBLE. Yep, I'm 41 years old and should probably have "gotten that" before now, but guess I'm a slow learner. :-) Hope everyone has a great day and that you receive all the answers you seek as well. God bless.
I've cried, I've pleaded, I've begged, I've demanded, I've tried making deals (if I do this or that, would He please give me an answer), I've been the martar, I've been the brat, you name it, I've tried it. And all I've heard is silence. And still left without a clue.
I've been sad, worried, angry, hurt, despondent, scared, mad, etc. And all I've heard is silence. And still left without a clue.
As you can see, what I've been doing hasn't been working. And then I was texting this morning with my sister-in-law (who I've always loved, but am totally adoring this morning) and she shared something very powerful. I don't think she could have had an idea of how greatly it would effect me. She texted: "Great power in His word. Phillipians 4:6". I told her I agreed, thanked her and we chatted a bit more. And then I went about my day. Until I started getting upset again about why I didn't know what His plan was. Why wasn't I hearing Him?
DUH!!!!!! is all I can say. Had I spent any time in His word like my sister-in-law had mentioned? Even one minute? I'm ashamed to say "no". Had I been doing a devotional? No. Had I even OPENED my Bible in search of answers? Big fat NO! Yet, I was almost indignant that I had not received the answers I was looking for. I thought I was being faithful by asking God to point me in the right direction, yet I was demanding it on MY terms. I was asking the questions and thought He should be answering me right then and there. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why He wasn't helping me.
But was I even trying to help myself? Sure, I was praying, but what else was I doing? Not much else. So, I decided to look up the verse that my sister-in-law had shared with me. Phillipians 4:6 "One God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all." As I read this, it's saying to me that God has been there the whole time. He is in EVERY situation that I go through. He knows the outcome before I do. He has all the answers and is in charge over my entire life.
However, this verse does NOT say that He will SHARE all. He never states that He will give us all the answers we are looking for. As I read further down the page of my Bible, I found some verses I had previously highlighted and was struck deeply by chapter 5, verse 15: "Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil". As I read this, the word "unwise" leaped off the page at me. What does it mean to be wise versus unwise? Or maybe I should ask, how do we become wise? Well, when we are growing up, we become wise by going to school and learning. So, how do we become wise as Christians? By studying and learning from His word. Which I have not been doing.....Therefore, I have been unwise and that is why I have not been receiving the answers I have been looking for.
Sure, maybe I'm over simplfying things, but that's the only way I tend to "get it". I have to basically get hit over the head by the answer. And that's how it felt this morning. God was definitely telling me, through my sister-in-law, that I needed to be spending time in my Bible. I needed to be reading, searching, absorbing His words. I started panicing a bit that I didn't know where to start, but then He reminded me that it all started with one simple scripture verse and it brought me to others. Maybe there are days where I will just need to open the Bible at random and see where He leads me. That will definitely be better than not opening it at all. I'm also open to any devotionals that you guys have read that have helped you. I can definitely use all the guidance you're willing to offer.
So, today I feel better because I have a plan - READ MY BIBLE. Yep, I'm 41 years old and should probably have "gotten that" before now, but guess I'm a slow learner. :-) Hope everyone has a great day and that you receive all the answers you seek as well. God bless.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Bathing suit season....ughhhhhhh
I absolutely hate bathing suit season. I know, I know, I shouldn't use the word hate. So, I'll change it. I DETEST bathing suit season. I always have, no matter what size I've been. Even at a size zero, two or four, I could find something wrong with my body that I didn't want to show to the rest of the world. I mean, really, WHY, do we have to get half-naked to go in the water?
The problem with hating bathing suits is that I LOVE the water. Doesn't matter if it's the pool , lake or ocean. I love the sound it makes, just the sight of it brings me a peace and swimming in it magically turns off my brain.
I have quite the quandary, don't I? Either stay away from the water or learn to deal with these nasty contraptions that make women weep. Well, the first is definitely not an option. From almost the moment Alex was born, we could tell he would love the water just like me. At six months old, I put him in a pool to cool off and he immediately started kicking his legs. It was just automatic for him. So, I have always tried to encourage his love of swimming and vowed that my dislike (putting it mildly here) for how I look barely clothed wouldn't stand in his way. It's not his fault that I can rattle off my faults faster than kinds of chocolate - which says a lot.
This weekend our neighborhood pool opened, so we spent a lot of time there. The weather was nice, I was able to get some sun and he got to do his favorite thing. This morning just the two of us went early to avoid the crowd and luckily only one family was there. I hate to admit this, but I was happy to see the mom was similar to me - not a size two and not in model-perfect shape. We were just two regular ladies hanging out at the pool and it was nice and laid back. We chatted while our boys played and found we had a lot in common. It was incredibly relaxing and I didn't think one minute about how I looked in my bathing suit.
Until....three other moms came through the gate with their small children. And all three were in two pieces, tiny two pieces. And they looked perfect. The moms you see at the playground that my friend and I joke are the "hot moms". The ones I'm NOT supposed to admit I want to look like, but I really do. And it was so interesting how the vibe changed in the pool between my new friend and I. I could see that she had gotten insecure at exactly the same moment as me. She started talking about needing to get her son home for a nap - her SIX year old boy at 10:00 in the morning. I knew what she was feeling, so I just went along with her. And since I didn't want to be left alone with the "perfect moms", I also decided it was time for us to leave. Was it about time to get out of the sun? Probably? But did I rush it just a bit? Probably.
While we were getting our stuff together, Alex pointed to one of the other moms and said "look at her bathing suit Mommy. You should get one like that. You'd look pretty." Of course, in my mind I started listing off all the reasons why it would NOT look good on me. My stomach isn't flat like hers, my waist isn't tiny like hers, my legs....well, you get the drift. To him I just said "thank you." But on our way home, it got me thinking: why can't we see ourselves through our children's eyes? Why can't I see myself as pretty as he does? He doesn't see my rounded tummy or un-toned legs or jiggly arms. He doesn't compare me to anyone else the way I do. He looks at me and sees a beautiful mom...just the way I am.
Now, I wish I could tell you that I will stop criticizing my body and be totally content with how I look. I wish I could say that I will snap my fingers and change the way I think. I won't pretend it's that easy. But next time the "hot moms" come to the pool, maybe I'll stay a bit longer, knowing that my little guy close by thinks I'm a hot mom too.
The problem with hating bathing suits is that I LOVE the water. Doesn't matter if it's the pool , lake or ocean. I love the sound it makes, just the sight of it brings me a peace and swimming in it magically turns off my brain.
I have quite the quandary, don't I? Either stay away from the water or learn to deal with these nasty contraptions that make women weep. Well, the first is definitely not an option. From almost the moment Alex was born, we could tell he would love the water just like me. At six months old, I put him in a pool to cool off and he immediately started kicking his legs. It was just automatic for him. So, I have always tried to encourage his love of swimming and vowed that my dislike (putting it mildly here) for how I look barely clothed wouldn't stand in his way. It's not his fault that I can rattle off my faults faster than kinds of chocolate - which says a lot.
This weekend our neighborhood pool opened, so we spent a lot of time there. The weather was nice, I was able to get some sun and he got to do his favorite thing. This morning just the two of us went early to avoid the crowd and luckily only one family was there. I hate to admit this, but I was happy to see the mom was similar to me - not a size two and not in model-perfect shape. We were just two regular ladies hanging out at the pool and it was nice and laid back. We chatted while our boys played and found we had a lot in common. It was incredibly relaxing and I didn't think one minute about how I looked in my bathing suit.
Until....three other moms came through the gate with their small children. And all three were in two pieces, tiny two pieces. And they looked perfect. The moms you see at the playground that my friend and I joke are the "hot moms". The ones I'm NOT supposed to admit I want to look like, but I really do. And it was so interesting how the vibe changed in the pool between my new friend and I. I could see that she had gotten insecure at exactly the same moment as me. She started talking about needing to get her son home for a nap - her SIX year old boy at 10:00 in the morning. I knew what she was feeling, so I just went along with her. And since I didn't want to be left alone with the "perfect moms", I also decided it was time for us to leave. Was it about time to get out of the sun? Probably? But did I rush it just a bit? Probably.
While we were getting our stuff together, Alex pointed to one of the other moms and said "look at her bathing suit Mommy. You should get one like that. You'd look pretty." Of course, in my mind I started listing off all the reasons why it would NOT look good on me. My stomach isn't flat like hers, my waist isn't tiny like hers, my legs....well, you get the drift. To him I just said "thank you." But on our way home, it got me thinking: why can't we see ourselves through our children's eyes? Why can't I see myself as pretty as he does? He doesn't see my rounded tummy or un-toned legs or jiggly arms. He doesn't compare me to anyone else the way I do. He looks at me and sees a beautiful mom...just the way I am.
Now, I wish I could tell you that I will stop criticizing my body and be totally content with how I look. I wish I could say that I will snap my fingers and change the way I think. I won't pretend it's that easy. But next time the "hot moms" come to the pool, maybe I'll stay a bit longer, knowing that my little guy close by thinks I'm a hot mom too.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Even Mommies screw up - some days much worse than others
You know how you can go through days, maybe even weeks, where you think you're a great Mom? Where you're patting yourself on the back, telling yourself how hard you work for your kids, how great you are at comforting them, at being their cheerleader? Sure, you tell yourself, I'm not perfect, but I'm still pretty darn good. You almost get a bit prideful as you tell yourself how great of a job you're doing. Until God starts to see this pride and decides it's time to remind you that you still have a lot of room to grow.
This was me yesterday. I'd been feeling pretty proud of myself as Alex's mom. I'd been working with his doctors and insurance to get him on the right medication (which seemed to take 10,000 phone calls), helped him deal with the different side effects, held him when he cried, when he was moody, or just didn't understand why he felt crazy inside. I did my best to help him get to sleep when his body was fighting rest for all it was worth. I worked with his preschool to get him out of his contract there so he could go to summer camp and just have some fun. I had made fun plans to celebrate his preschool graduation and make sure he had a bunch of familiar faces there to cheer him on.
See, I was rocking it as a mom, wasn't I? Don't you want to pat me on the back? As you can tell, I thought I deserved it. That is until I forgot that my son is only five. He's not a mini adult, even though at times he talks like one. He needs my patience even when I have none to give. He needs me to be understanding even when I don't feel like it. He needs me to bite my tongue when I just want to yell at him to calm down and go to sleep. He needs me to truly understand his personality, and know that yelling at him doesn't help anyway. It only hurts his feelings and makes him question my love. He needs me to put aside whatever I'm dealing with and be there for HIM.
He doesn't understand that Mommy had a rough day or is stressed or worried or frazzled or just plum exhausted. And at five years old, he shouldn't have to understand all that. It's not his job. His job is to enjoy his childhood, not to take care of Mommy or worry that she's going to take her frustration out on him.
And yesterday I got in the way of his job. I made it about me. I was in such a rush to get his ADHD "figured out" and "resolved" that I failed him. I was so focused on solving the "problem" that I lost track of him as a person. I lost track of the little guy who depends on me for most everything. And I wasn't there for him. And even though I did apologize and he said it was okay, I could see in his eyes that it wasn't. I could see how much I'd hurt him by not being more understanding, more patient, more loving.
And even though I wished I could just take back the whole evening, I knew that wasn't an option. So, I did the next best thing. I lay down next to him on the floor (which is where he decided he wanted to sleep after I snapped at him) and just held him until he fell asleep. And while we were lying there, every couple of minutes he would say "mommy, you yelled at me". And I would say "yes, baby, I did and I'm so sorry." We repeated that same script five or six times until he finally drifted off. But still I stayed with him for the next hour , just in case somehow me holding him was getting through to his subconscious. Like if I held him tightly enough, my love would seep through from my body into his. And sometimes as a Mom who screwed up, that's the best you can do.
This was me yesterday. I'd been feeling pretty proud of myself as Alex's mom. I'd been working with his doctors and insurance to get him on the right medication (which seemed to take 10,000 phone calls), helped him deal with the different side effects, held him when he cried, when he was moody, or just didn't understand why he felt crazy inside. I did my best to help him get to sleep when his body was fighting rest for all it was worth. I worked with his preschool to get him out of his contract there so he could go to summer camp and just have some fun. I had made fun plans to celebrate his preschool graduation and make sure he had a bunch of familiar faces there to cheer him on.
See, I was rocking it as a mom, wasn't I? Don't you want to pat me on the back? As you can tell, I thought I deserved it. That is until I forgot that my son is only five. He's not a mini adult, even though at times he talks like one. He needs my patience even when I have none to give. He needs me to be understanding even when I don't feel like it. He needs me to bite my tongue when I just want to yell at him to calm down and go to sleep. He needs me to truly understand his personality, and know that yelling at him doesn't help anyway. It only hurts his feelings and makes him question my love. He needs me to put aside whatever I'm dealing with and be there for HIM.
He doesn't understand that Mommy had a rough day or is stressed or worried or frazzled or just plum exhausted. And at five years old, he shouldn't have to understand all that. It's not his job. His job is to enjoy his childhood, not to take care of Mommy or worry that she's going to take her frustration out on him.
And yesterday I got in the way of his job. I made it about me. I was in such a rush to get his ADHD "figured out" and "resolved" that I failed him. I was so focused on solving the "problem" that I lost track of him as a person. I lost track of the little guy who depends on me for most everything. And I wasn't there for him. And even though I did apologize and he said it was okay, I could see in his eyes that it wasn't. I could see how much I'd hurt him by not being more understanding, more patient, more loving.
And even though I wished I could just take back the whole evening, I knew that wasn't an option. So, I did the next best thing. I lay down next to him on the floor (which is where he decided he wanted to sleep after I snapped at him) and just held him until he fell asleep. And while we were lying there, every couple of minutes he would say "mommy, you yelled at me". And I would say "yes, baby, I did and I'm so sorry." We repeated that same script five or six times until he finally drifted off. But still I stayed with him for the next hour , just in case somehow me holding him was getting through to his subconscious. Like if I held him tightly enough, my love would seep through from my body into his. And sometimes as a Mom who screwed up, that's the best you can do.
Friday, May 16, 2014
You're the strongest Mommy I know
I would never categorize myself as someone who is very strong. It's just not a word I would use to describe myself. We all know I can be extremely emotional and get my feelings hurt easily. I don't do that well under pressure and don't handle change very well. I also tend to make decisions based on my gut. I don't say these things to put myself down - they are just facts about my I am. However, that being said, they are not characteristics of someone who is very strong in character. Or are they? Because my son seems to think differently.
On the way to taking Alex to school this morning (and yes, we seem to have our best conversations in the car), he was listing all the things he liked about me. You're the sweetest Mommy in the world, you're the prettiest Mommy in the world, you're the strongest Mommy I know....Wait, huh? Back up. I'll agree with the first (just kidding), the second is because he's incredibly biased and the third is just totally wrong.
I asked him why he thought Mommy was strong. Was it because I could lift him in the air and throw him on the bed? Was it because I could give him piggy back rides? Was it because I could carry multiple grocery bags at once? NO! he said. Not that kind of strong. Strong like a person. Okay, still not getting it....So, I asked several diferent ways what he meant. And this is what he told me: "You're strong when people get in your way. Like at the pharmacy when they won't get you my medicine. Or when the doctor doesn't call you back. Or all those thousands of phone calls you make to get me what I need. That's what I mean."
Well.....so many things ran through my head. First off, that I don't do NEARLY as good a job of shielding him from things as I thought I did. Secondly, we don't pay his preschool enough cause his verbal skills are through the roof. Third, well, I felt like he was proud of me. And I know, I know, as mothers, it's not about making our children proud. We are supposed to be molding THEM into good, well-behaved, intelligent people. But it was nice to hear that he thought this way about me.
But still, I wasn't sure he was right. Just yesterday I had been faced with some difficult news and told Matt that I just COULD NOT DO IT! That I was throwing up my hands. That I was giving up. That I didn't have it in me. And I know that those words have come out of my mouth MULTIPLE times. So, isn't that the opposite of strong? Doesn't that make me weak if I want to just give up and curl into a ball?
Then I was reminded of something I had read on Facebook: "when you are beating yourself up, take a minute to think of what you would say to a friend in the same situation." I would say this: "Saying you want to give up is not the same as actually giving up. It's okay to have times where you lose it emotionally. Things said in those moments don't really count. As long as the next hour or next day or maybe next week you pick yourself back up and face the challenge, you didn't actually give up."
Given this new situation, I was wondering if I could actually take in the words I would tell a friend. Could I actually believe that I was strong? I definitely won't go with the strongest mommy in the world, altough it's nice that my five year old thinks so......Looking back over the last few years, I can see lots of times I WANTED to give up, but can't see a time that I actually did. So, hopefully this time won't be the first. Maybe I just need to give myself another hour or day or possibly a week....Maybe strong is just right around the corner.
Fingers crossed.....
On the way to taking Alex to school this morning (and yes, we seem to have our best conversations in the car), he was listing all the things he liked about me. You're the sweetest Mommy in the world, you're the prettiest Mommy in the world, you're the strongest Mommy I know....Wait, huh? Back up. I'll agree with the first (just kidding), the second is because he's incredibly biased and the third is just totally wrong.
I asked him why he thought Mommy was strong. Was it because I could lift him in the air and throw him on the bed? Was it because I could give him piggy back rides? Was it because I could carry multiple grocery bags at once? NO! he said. Not that kind of strong. Strong like a person. Okay, still not getting it....So, I asked several diferent ways what he meant. And this is what he told me: "You're strong when people get in your way. Like at the pharmacy when they won't get you my medicine. Or when the doctor doesn't call you back. Or all those thousands of phone calls you make to get me what I need. That's what I mean."
Well.....so many things ran through my head. First off, that I don't do NEARLY as good a job of shielding him from things as I thought I did. Secondly, we don't pay his preschool enough cause his verbal skills are through the roof. Third, well, I felt like he was proud of me. And I know, I know, as mothers, it's not about making our children proud. We are supposed to be molding THEM into good, well-behaved, intelligent people. But it was nice to hear that he thought this way about me.
But still, I wasn't sure he was right. Just yesterday I had been faced with some difficult news and told Matt that I just COULD NOT DO IT! That I was throwing up my hands. That I was giving up. That I didn't have it in me. And I know that those words have come out of my mouth MULTIPLE times. So, isn't that the opposite of strong? Doesn't that make me weak if I want to just give up and curl into a ball?
Then I was reminded of something I had read on Facebook: "when you are beating yourself up, take a minute to think of what you would say to a friend in the same situation." I would say this: "Saying you want to give up is not the same as actually giving up. It's okay to have times where you lose it emotionally. Things said in those moments don't really count. As long as the next hour or next day or maybe next week you pick yourself back up and face the challenge, you didn't actually give up."
Given this new situation, I was wondering if I could actually take in the words I would tell a friend. Could I actually believe that I was strong? I definitely won't go with the strongest mommy in the world, altough it's nice that my five year old thinks so......Looking back over the last few years, I can see lots of times I WANTED to give up, but can't see a time that I actually did. So, hopefully this time won't be the first. Maybe I just need to give myself another hour or day or possibly a week....Maybe strong is just right around the corner.
Fingers crossed.....
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Best birthday ever
A little over six years ago I was at the doctor's office, consulting about what we needed to do to have a baby. I was telling him how stressed I was about turning 35 and not yet being a Mom. So many of the statistics showed that if you didn't have a baby before then, your odds significantly dropped and the chances of the child having problems went up. I told him that if we didn't get (and stay) pregnant by that day, I was going to stop trying.
I remember clear as if it was yesterday what he said. He asked me: "what do you think happens? That the angel-of-35 flys over your door, waves a wand and says 'poof now you're 35 and can't have children'? And just the way he asked it broke the tension and I broke into laughter. I got his point and knew in a way that he was right. But still, it had been a long road up until that point and I didn't think I could do it much longer. So, I set a deadline of my 35th birthday. I prayed to God and asked Him to make me a mother before then. And decided that if He didn't answer my prayer, we would look at other opportunities. Many of you know the rest of the story...the Friday before my 35th birthday (which was the next Wednesday), I found out we were pregnant with Alex. And I was given the greatest birthday present of all.
This morning I was trying to share that story with Alex (in five year old terms) and he asked "why do you think God waited until then? Was it because you told him that date?" I'd never asked myself that question so I had no answer for him. I floundered a bit and told him that it was just God's plan and we didn't always understand His timing.
That got me started thinking...and maybe it was thinking I should have done a long time ago. See, I have disliked birthdays for a long time....since my early 20's. There are lots of reasons why, but that's not really important. The fact is that I dread them. I find myself getting really cranky the week before it's coming up. Even knowing this, I can't seem to stop the moodiness. I normally just try wishing the day away and being happy when it's over. I noticed this again a couple days ago and tried talking myself out of it. Telling myself how blessed I am and that a birthday is not something to dread.
But it took that conversation with Alex this morning to get me to see how much I should LOVE my birthday. I was giving the most amazing gift six years ago and I should be celebrating THAT gift every year. Even if I don't want to celebrate getting older, I should be reminding myself of that feeling I had. Of being ecstatically happy and excited beyond belief. Of how God blessed me and answered my prayer. Do I know why He decided to make it my birthday present? I think I do now.....because He knew how much I disliked May 14th, how much I dreaded the day and how much I just waited for it to be over. He gave me something that would make me appreciate and celebrate the day.
So, starting today, I will have a different attitude about this day. I will remind myself that I have been incredibly blessed and this is a day to celebrate those blessings, not a day to dislike. Therefore, if any of you notice me getting cranky, moody, ornery, depressed, etc around my birthday, you have my full permission to smack me upside the head and remind me of this blog. :-)
Thanks to everyone of you who already have helped make this day even more special. I appreciate all your call, texts and messages. Love to all!
I remember clear as if it was yesterday what he said. He asked me: "what do you think happens? That the angel-of-35 flys over your door, waves a wand and says 'poof now you're 35 and can't have children'? And just the way he asked it broke the tension and I broke into laughter. I got his point and knew in a way that he was right. But still, it had been a long road up until that point and I didn't think I could do it much longer. So, I set a deadline of my 35th birthday. I prayed to God and asked Him to make me a mother before then. And decided that if He didn't answer my prayer, we would look at other opportunities. Many of you know the rest of the story...the Friday before my 35th birthday (which was the next Wednesday), I found out we were pregnant with Alex. And I was given the greatest birthday present of all.
This morning I was trying to share that story with Alex (in five year old terms) and he asked "why do you think God waited until then? Was it because you told him that date?" I'd never asked myself that question so I had no answer for him. I floundered a bit and told him that it was just God's plan and we didn't always understand His timing.
That got me started thinking...and maybe it was thinking I should have done a long time ago. See, I have disliked birthdays for a long time....since my early 20's. There are lots of reasons why, but that's not really important. The fact is that I dread them. I find myself getting really cranky the week before it's coming up. Even knowing this, I can't seem to stop the moodiness. I normally just try wishing the day away and being happy when it's over. I noticed this again a couple days ago and tried talking myself out of it. Telling myself how blessed I am and that a birthday is not something to dread.
But it took that conversation with Alex this morning to get me to see how much I should LOVE my birthday. I was giving the most amazing gift six years ago and I should be celebrating THAT gift every year. Even if I don't want to celebrate getting older, I should be reminding myself of that feeling I had. Of being ecstatically happy and excited beyond belief. Of how God blessed me and answered my prayer. Do I know why He decided to make it my birthday present? I think I do now.....because He knew how much I disliked May 14th, how much I dreaded the day and how much I just waited for it to be over. He gave me something that would make me appreciate and celebrate the day.
So, starting today, I will have a different attitude about this day. I will remind myself that I have been incredibly blessed and this is a day to celebrate those blessings, not a day to dislike. Therefore, if any of you notice me getting cranky, moody, ornery, depressed, etc around my birthday, you have my full permission to smack me upside the head and remind me of this blog. :-)
Thanks to everyone of you who already have helped make this day even more special. I appreciate all your call, texts and messages. Love to all!
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Paying It Forward
You know those days...the ones where you wake up on the wrong side of the bed for no reason? I went to bed on time, actually a bit early, got plenty of sleep, child slept through the night, nothing bad coming up in the day. Just, well, one of those days. And I couldn't put my finger on a single reason why. I could tell I was grumpy so was watching every word coming out of my mouth because I didn't want to take it out on Matt or Alex. Luckily I got us out the door and all the way to preschool and nothing negative came out of my mouth.
Then before I left the school, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from a friend. And this is what it said: "Just thinking of you this morning and wanted to let you know I love you and hope you have a fantastic day." And that's all it took. My day completely turned around. I got the biggest smile on my face and I decided right then to make it a great day. Because not only was I loved by this friend, I was reminded in that moment that I was loved by God. He had used that friend to help brighten up my day, I just knew it. That is how He works - he places people in our lives to help us through those moments, those days. And He has blessed me with SO many wonderful people, more than I truthfully deserve.
So, this morning I wanted to tell all of you that read this blog: please know that you are loved. Loved by me and loved by God. I hope that by hearing this it might also brighten your day. I know this one is short but I just had to pass on the message. Hope you all have a FANTASTIC day!
Love in Him, Vicki
Then before I left the school, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from a friend. And this is what it said: "Just thinking of you this morning and wanted to let you know I love you and hope you have a fantastic day." And that's all it took. My day completely turned around. I got the biggest smile on my face and I decided right then to make it a great day. Because not only was I loved by this friend, I was reminded in that moment that I was loved by God. He had used that friend to help brighten up my day, I just knew it. That is how He works - he places people in our lives to help us through those moments, those days. And He has blessed me with SO many wonderful people, more than I truthfully deserve.
So, this morning I wanted to tell all of you that read this blog: please know that you are loved. Loved by me and loved by God. I hope that by hearing this it might also brighten your day. I know this one is short but I just had to pass on the message. Hope you all have a FANTASTIC day!
Love in Him, Vicki
Friday, April 25, 2014
Mommy, I'm proud of me too
Last night when I tucked Alex into bed I told him I was so proud of him for the good day he'd had. His response? "I'm proud of me too." And in that moment I knew we'd made the right decision.
Let me rewind a bit. Alex has always been a tad on the hyper side. Okay, maybe more than just a tad. He came out of the womb that way. He had a terrible time napping and didn't sleep through the night until he was fifteen months old. For the first three years of his life we weren't sure if him being sick all the time had disrupted his sleep patterns or if it was something else. After he had his last ear surgery at three and a half, Matt and I started discussing if he was going to ever calm down. It was too early for him to be evaluated for ADHD so we had him seen by a cognitive therapist. She diagnosed him as having something called 'Sensory Processing Disorder.' Basically she felt that all his illnesses had caused a break down in some natural progression of his ability to handle stimulation. Unlike the majority of the children with the disorder, she thought he needed a higher amount of stimulation. She gave us some things to work on with him that she thought would help. They never really did.
We tried watching his diet, making sure he got plenty of exercise, behavior modification, a strict bedtime routine, a very structured environment, etc. We tended not to do things during the week after preschool because it took him a long time to settle back down afterwards. Over time I realized how many ways his hyperactivity was effecting all of us as a family. But it wasn't until he could verablize it on his own that I knew it was time to take the next step.
A few months ago I picked Alex up from school and the teacher told me he'd had a meltdown that day. She explained that she had instructed him, yet again, to sit still during story time and he said "I just can't" and burst into tears. I was curious if this was his way of getting out of trouble or if it was his way of telling us something. A couple days later I had repeatedly asked Alex to calm down and he told me I was making him sad. I asked him why and he told me because I'm always telling him to be quiet but I know it isn't his fault. Then one night at bedtime, I asked Alex to please stop wriggling around and settle down. He told me that there were snakes inside his legs that were making him move around. It seemed like his way of trying to explain how hyper he felt inside. I shared all these comments with Matt and together we decided to call the pediatrician.
She had Matt and I and the school fill out different questionaires so she could get a feel for how he acted in different environments. Then we had to wait a month or so to see her. And it was the longest month. Because even though we didn't have a diagnosis yet, it was all of a sudden so obvious. Now that we really saw it, I wanted it fixed immediately. Yes, you all know that I'm terrible when it comes to patience. And through that month it seemed like Alex was getting frustrated with us as well. He was trying to explain it in numerous ways and in his eyes we just weren't getting it, weren't doing anything about it. So, he acted out even more, lashed out at us (mostly me because Mommy is supposed to fix everything) and seemed to get in even more trouble at school. It was almost like he'd given up trying; if he was going to get in trouble no matter what, why even bother?
So a few weeks ago when we got to see the doctor, I was MORE than ready for some help, some advice. The doctor spent about an hour with us and at the end of that time she said it was clear to her that he had ADHD. Was I relieved? Yes. Do I feel a bit guilty about that? Yes. For a few reasons. I soooooo hate the fact that he has to take another daily medication. I had been very happy that we'd weaned him off his reflux meds and for the first time in his life he didn't have to take one prescription. I also felt guilty because I felt like I'd caused it. I was ADHD as a child and I felt like I had passed it on to him. The doctor saw all this on my face and said it's okay, you didn't cause it. Yes, it may be genetic, but that doesn't mean you personally did anything to make him this way. She also said that it's okay to be relieved that she agreed with me about the diagnosis. She told me lots of parents feel that way - makes them see that they aren't crazy. And that all made me feel much better.
So, we got some medication and the first two weeks were a roller coaster. With ADHD, it's actually a chemical imbalance in the brain which has to be regulated. And for Alex, that wasn't the easiest of processes. He went from sad to happy to angry and calm to hyper and back again, all in the blink of an eye. After one week I wasn't sure we were on the right track. But then a couple days ago I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel.
It started with him spending half a day with his grandparents and them commenting on how he seemed calmer. And then he was working on a project and said "look how I'm taking my time and not rushing." Then he stayed home from school one day when we were both sick and actually was calm the WHOLE DAY - something I'd never experienced with him. And then yesterday was the real testimony. I picked him up from school and got a GLOWING report about how he'd sat still during the story time and didn't interrupt his teacher and played nicely with his friends on the playground. Then at home I was on the phone and he didn't ask for my attention one time.
This is why at bedtime I told him how proud of him I was. Because I knew he'd really been trying hard. Even before the medication he'd been trying, but it had been something he couldn't control. And I was over the moon happy to see things smoothing out. But when he told me he was proud of himself, well, I thought my heart would burst with joy. Because that's what I wanted for him. I want him to be happy and not down on himself. I want him to know that he is a good kid. So, yes, I was happy for me and Matt that things would be getting easier, but I was ecstatic that HE was happy. Isn't that all parents really want for their children anyway? It's in our nature. Once you have a child, all the priorities shift. It stops being about us and they come first. And that is why today I'm over the moon. Because I know we made the right decision and I know it's just going to get better from here.
God bless you and thank you to everyone who has been on the "Alex hyper ride" with us. :)
Let me rewind a bit. Alex has always been a tad on the hyper side. Okay, maybe more than just a tad. He came out of the womb that way. He had a terrible time napping and didn't sleep through the night until he was fifteen months old. For the first three years of his life we weren't sure if him being sick all the time had disrupted his sleep patterns or if it was something else. After he had his last ear surgery at three and a half, Matt and I started discussing if he was going to ever calm down. It was too early for him to be evaluated for ADHD so we had him seen by a cognitive therapist. She diagnosed him as having something called 'Sensory Processing Disorder.' Basically she felt that all his illnesses had caused a break down in some natural progression of his ability to handle stimulation. Unlike the majority of the children with the disorder, she thought he needed a higher amount of stimulation. She gave us some things to work on with him that she thought would help. They never really did.
We tried watching his diet, making sure he got plenty of exercise, behavior modification, a strict bedtime routine, a very structured environment, etc. We tended not to do things during the week after preschool because it took him a long time to settle back down afterwards. Over time I realized how many ways his hyperactivity was effecting all of us as a family. But it wasn't until he could verablize it on his own that I knew it was time to take the next step.
A few months ago I picked Alex up from school and the teacher told me he'd had a meltdown that day. She explained that she had instructed him, yet again, to sit still during story time and he said "I just can't" and burst into tears. I was curious if this was his way of getting out of trouble or if it was his way of telling us something. A couple days later I had repeatedly asked Alex to calm down and he told me I was making him sad. I asked him why and he told me because I'm always telling him to be quiet but I know it isn't his fault. Then one night at bedtime, I asked Alex to please stop wriggling around and settle down. He told me that there were snakes inside his legs that were making him move around. It seemed like his way of trying to explain how hyper he felt inside. I shared all these comments with Matt and together we decided to call the pediatrician.
She had Matt and I and the school fill out different questionaires so she could get a feel for how he acted in different environments. Then we had to wait a month or so to see her. And it was the longest month. Because even though we didn't have a diagnosis yet, it was all of a sudden so obvious. Now that we really saw it, I wanted it fixed immediately. Yes, you all know that I'm terrible when it comes to patience. And through that month it seemed like Alex was getting frustrated with us as well. He was trying to explain it in numerous ways and in his eyes we just weren't getting it, weren't doing anything about it. So, he acted out even more, lashed out at us (mostly me because Mommy is supposed to fix everything) and seemed to get in even more trouble at school. It was almost like he'd given up trying; if he was going to get in trouble no matter what, why even bother?
So a few weeks ago when we got to see the doctor, I was MORE than ready for some help, some advice. The doctor spent about an hour with us and at the end of that time she said it was clear to her that he had ADHD. Was I relieved? Yes. Do I feel a bit guilty about that? Yes. For a few reasons. I soooooo hate the fact that he has to take another daily medication. I had been very happy that we'd weaned him off his reflux meds and for the first time in his life he didn't have to take one prescription. I also felt guilty because I felt like I'd caused it. I was ADHD as a child and I felt like I had passed it on to him. The doctor saw all this on my face and said it's okay, you didn't cause it. Yes, it may be genetic, but that doesn't mean you personally did anything to make him this way. She also said that it's okay to be relieved that she agreed with me about the diagnosis. She told me lots of parents feel that way - makes them see that they aren't crazy. And that all made me feel much better.
So, we got some medication and the first two weeks were a roller coaster. With ADHD, it's actually a chemical imbalance in the brain which has to be regulated. And for Alex, that wasn't the easiest of processes. He went from sad to happy to angry and calm to hyper and back again, all in the blink of an eye. After one week I wasn't sure we were on the right track. But then a couple days ago I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel.
It started with him spending half a day with his grandparents and them commenting on how he seemed calmer. And then he was working on a project and said "look how I'm taking my time and not rushing." Then he stayed home from school one day when we were both sick and actually was calm the WHOLE DAY - something I'd never experienced with him. And then yesterday was the real testimony. I picked him up from school and got a GLOWING report about how he'd sat still during the story time and didn't interrupt his teacher and played nicely with his friends on the playground. Then at home I was on the phone and he didn't ask for my attention one time.
This is why at bedtime I told him how proud of him I was. Because I knew he'd really been trying hard. Even before the medication he'd been trying, but it had been something he couldn't control. And I was over the moon happy to see things smoothing out. But when he told me he was proud of himself, well, I thought my heart would burst with joy. Because that's what I wanted for him. I want him to be happy and not down on himself. I want him to know that he is a good kid. So, yes, I was happy for me and Matt that things would be getting easier, but I was ecstatic that HE was happy. Isn't that all parents really want for their children anyway? It's in our nature. Once you have a child, all the priorities shift. It stops being about us and they come first. And that is why today I'm over the moon. Because I know we made the right decision and I know it's just going to get better from here.
God bless you and thank you to everyone who has been on the "Alex hyper ride" with us. :)
Thursday, April 24, 2014
God knows just the child you need
Yesterday I woke up sick as a dog. Where did that saying come from anyway? I just have never noticed that my dogs get sick that much and if they do, they get to lay around all day anyway. So, me being sick is nothing like when they are sick. Sorry, I digress....Okay, so I woke up really feeling icky, knew I wouldn't be going to work and my biggest worry was getting Alex up and ready for school so I could go back to sleep. But he had other plans, cause he woke up under the weather as well.
Now, for all you mothers out there, you will understand what was going through my mind at first: "**it! How am I supposed to take care of myself and him? Why can't I just be sick? I just want to pull the covers over my head!" Don't lie - you have all been there! So, to say I was feeling a tad negative about the situation would be putting it mildly. I was even a bit irritated at Alex - as if it was his fault. And unfortunately, he could tell, and that made me feel terrible. I was expecting him to get crabby back at me but what he did next really turned the day around.
I was lying on the couch, he came over, put his arms around me and said "It's okay Mommy. Since we're both sick, we can take care of each other. I'll give you love and you can give me love." Yep, that's my son. The 'glass is half full kinda guy'. To counteract my tendency to be the 'glass if half empty kinda gal'. I posted something about this on Facebook yesterday but I've been thinking about it ever since and had to share what's been going through my mind.
As we wasted part of the day away, Alex was watching cartoons in one room and I was watching reruns of 'Sex in the City' in the other. It was an episode where one of the characters, Charlotte, found out that she and her husband would be adopting a baby from China. They had been through fertility treatments, suffered miscarriages and had one family pull out of an adoption. So, it was with great excitement that they found out God would finally be giving them a baby. Charlotte looked at the picture that came in their package and said "That's our baby. I just know it."
Now maybe it was cause I was exhausted and feeling wonky, but my eyes filled up with tears. Yes, I've watched that scene at least 20 times before, but yesterday it hit me in a different way. It made me think back to Matt's and my difficulties with having a baby. The months of not getting pregnant, then the miscarriages, then the fertility treatments that didn't work. I remember the frustration and hurt and pain of not understanding God's plan. I've since learned a lot about why He allowed us to go through those times and yesterday I realized another.
Alex was meant to be our child. God knew that he would be exactly what I needed. That I would need a child that made me laugh, that is silly, fun, caring, loving , cuddly and most important: positive. That there would be days that he would be the one to show me the glass was half full, not empty. That he would get me to look at things in a completely different way. That he would get me to embrace life in ways I hadn't before. And during the days when I was really sick, he gave me the push to keep going and keep fighting.
So, today God, I thank you for your perfect plan. I thank you that all along you knew just the right child to complete our family. Thank you for his giggle, his smiles, his hugs, his sense of humor, the way he loves life, you, his friends, his family, and mostly, the way he loves ME. Today I vow to be more patient when he is pushing my buttons - as only he knows how. Because I know five minutes after, he will be making me laugh at some silly comment he's made. Thank you for all the joy he has brought to our lives. It's a joy I never knew existed - but YOU did.
Now, for all you mothers out there, you will understand what was going through my mind at first: "**it! How am I supposed to take care of myself and him? Why can't I just be sick? I just want to pull the covers over my head!" Don't lie - you have all been there! So, to say I was feeling a tad negative about the situation would be putting it mildly. I was even a bit irritated at Alex - as if it was his fault. And unfortunately, he could tell, and that made me feel terrible. I was expecting him to get crabby back at me but what he did next really turned the day around.
I was lying on the couch, he came over, put his arms around me and said "It's okay Mommy. Since we're both sick, we can take care of each other. I'll give you love and you can give me love." Yep, that's my son. The 'glass is half full kinda guy'. To counteract my tendency to be the 'glass if half empty kinda gal'. I posted something about this on Facebook yesterday but I've been thinking about it ever since and had to share what's been going through my mind.
As we wasted part of the day away, Alex was watching cartoons in one room and I was watching reruns of 'Sex in the City' in the other. It was an episode where one of the characters, Charlotte, found out that she and her husband would be adopting a baby from China. They had been through fertility treatments, suffered miscarriages and had one family pull out of an adoption. So, it was with great excitement that they found out God would finally be giving them a baby. Charlotte looked at the picture that came in their package and said "That's our baby. I just know it."
Now maybe it was cause I was exhausted and feeling wonky, but my eyes filled up with tears. Yes, I've watched that scene at least 20 times before, but yesterday it hit me in a different way. It made me think back to Matt's and my difficulties with having a baby. The months of not getting pregnant, then the miscarriages, then the fertility treatments that didn't work. I remember the frustration and hurt and pain of not understanding God's plan. I've since learned a lot about why He allowed us to go through those times and yesterday I realized another.
Alex was meant to be our child. God knew that he would be exactly what I needed. That I would need a child that made me laugh, that is silly, fun, caring, loving , cuddly and most important: positive. That there would be days that he would be the one to show me the glass was half full, not empty. That he would get me to look at things in a completely different way. That he would get me to embrace life in ways I hadn't before. And during the days when I was really sick, he gave me the push to keep going and keep fighting.
So, today God, I thank you for your perfect plan. I thank you that all along you knew just the right child to complete our family. Thank you for his giggle, his smiles, his hugs, his sense of humor, the way he loves life, you, his friends, his family, and mostly, the way he loves ME. Today I vow to be more patient when he is pushing my buttons - as only he knows how. Because I know five minutes after, he will be making me laugh at some silly comment he's made. Thank you for all the joy he has brought to our lives. It's a joy I never knew existed - but YOU did.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Danger of the rumor mill
When I was in college, there was a rumor that went around that my sister's boyfriend (now husband) was part of the mob. His last name is Gamb and someone told someone else that it was short for Gambini - the notorious Italian mob family. Needless to say, it was completely untrue and totally ridiculous. But it took off for awhile and was quite an embarrassment to him, his family and my sister. Luckily, with time, it went away after awhile. But the damage was done....some people to this day believe that it just might be true. See, that's the thing about rumors. Once they are told, they can never be taken back. And they don't just hurt one person; it's like a ripple effect. This particular one was about my brother-in-law, but it effected not just him but several other people as well.
I was thinking about this story last night because of something Matt said to me. I was having a moment of frustration due to a rumor that had been started about me several months ago. As always the voice of reason, he told me not to worry about the few people that believed it and to put it out of my head. I told him it was easy for him to say since the rumor wasn't about him and it didn't effect him. He got irritated, rightly so, and told me it DID effect him because he was the one who had to deal with me when I was upset about it. Later on I thought about it more and I realized that it effected him in more ways than just that. If someone stated that I was a liar, then he would have to be one too. Since he lives with me and knows everything about me, if I was lying about something important, he would have to be just as untruthful. And that got me really frustrated; it's upsetting enough to have people say something about yourself, but your husband....well that's a whole other ball of wax. Say something about my hubby and it REALLY gets my back up.
Then I started thinking how this has also effected Alex. Due to the whole situation, he has lost a couple play mates and he's old enough to ask why. And I don't really know what to tell him so I just change the subject the best I can. Luckily he is blessed to have a ton of little friends so it hasn't impacted him too much, but it's still bothersome when he asks "why don't I play with so-and-so anymore?"
Then there are the friends who have inadvertently been caught in the middle and for them I feel sorry as well. I never want people to have to take sides and I hate that some have felt they have to. I only hope that if a friend hears this rumor being told that they would just change the subject so it's not repeated in their presence.
So, what's the moral of the story? Please, please, please think before you tell a story about someone else. Ask yourself: "am I 100% sure what I'm about to tell is the truth?", "is what I'm about to share going to bring someone up or tear them down?", "will this story effect a child?" and lastly "am I sharing this story because I've been hurt and want to hurt someone else?"
I won't begin to claim that I have never been involved in the gossip mill....I know for a fact that I have shared stories that I didn't know we're 100% true, that tore someone else down, that effected a child involved in the situation and that was told simply to hurt another individual. Am I proud of those things? Definitely not...especially now being on the other side. I know now how much it hurts, how frustrating it is to straighten out and how many people can be effected. It has given me a perspective I never had before...and maybe one I needed.
So, next time you feel like sharing a story you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend....please don't. You have no idea how far it will spread and how many people could be hurt. It's just not worth it. And just think, one of those people being effected could end up being someone you really care about.
Thanks for reading. God bless and Happy Easter!
I was thinking about this story last night because of something Matt said to me. I was having a moment of frustration due to a rumor that had been started about me several months ago. As always the voice of reason, he told me not to worry about the few people that believed it and to put it out of my head. I told him it was easy for him to say since the rumor wasn't about him and it didn't effect him. He got irritated, rightly so, and told me it DID effect him because he was the one who had to deal with me when I was upset about it. Later on I thought about it more and I realized that it effected him in more ways than just that. If someone stated that I was a liar, then he would have to be one too. Since he lives with me and knows everything about me, if I was lying about something important, he would have to be just as untruthful. And that got me really frustrated; it's upsetting enough to have people say something about yourself, but your husband....well that's a whole other ball of wax. Say something about my hubby and it REALLY gets my back up.
Then I started thinking how this has also effected Alex. Due to the whole situation, he has lost a couple play mates and he's old enough to ask why. And I don't really know what to tell him so I just change the subject the best I can. Luckily he is blessed to have a ton of little friends so it hasn't impacted him too much, but it's still bothersome when he asks "why don't I play with so-and-so anymore?"
Then there are the friends who have inadvertently been caught in the middle and for them I feel sorry as well. I never want people to have to take sides and I hate that some have felt they have to. I only hope that if a friend hears this rumor being told that they would just change the subject so it's not repeated in their presence.
So, what's the moral of the story? Please, please, please think before you tell a story about someone else. Ask yourself: "am I 100% sure what I'm about to tell is the truth?", "is what I'm about to share going to bring someone up or tear them down?", "will this story effect a child?" and lastly "am I sharing this story because I've been hurt and want to hurt someone else?"
I won't begin to claim that I have never been involved in the gossip mill....I know for a fact that I have shared stories that I didn't know we're 100% true, that tore someone else down, that effected a child involved in the situation and that was told simply to hurt another individual. Am I proud of those things? Definitely not...especially now being on the other side. I know now how much it hurts, how frustrating it is to straighten out and how many people can be effected. It has given me a perspective I never had before...and maybe one I needed.
So, next time you feel like sharing a story you heard from a friend of a friend of a friend....please don't. You have no idea how far it will spread and how many people could be hurt. It's just not worth it. And just think, one of those people being effected could end up being someone you really care about.
Thanks for reading. God bless and Happy Easter!
Monday, April 14, 2014
Necessary reminder
Do you ever have one of those nights? One where you tell yourself over and over it doesn't matter what someone else thinks, but deep down it hurts your feelings? You remind yourself that your focus needs to ONLY be on the people that love and care for you, NOT on those that don't. But it's almost like an alcoholic longing for a drink and trying so hard to resist. Tonight is kind of like my "relapse".
See, I just found out that a friend, well, more like an acquaintance, has de-friended AND blocked me on Facebook. She had made a comment awhile back about wanting off my "crazy train", but I thought she was kidding. Guess she wasn't.....And even though my sweet hubby reminded me (and I agreed with him) that those are the people I shouldn't worry about.....well, I've been worrying about it. I started to let it get me down. And then it reminded me of the few people that had doubted my cancer "story" and how some of those people I still see. And I started going down the path to: how many people out there don't like me?
That's how the mind can work - you learn of one person who isn't on your side and you start thinking maybe she's right. Maybe I AM too much to handle....I mean, the word "craziness" is in the title of this blog. Maybe after all my updates for two years while I was sick, there are people who are just, well, sick and tired of me. Maybe I'd be a bit "over me" too if I was in their shoes. I am someone who notices all the weird things around me and I love to share those stories. Maybe that annoys some people. So, I start to wonder if I need to tailor that, change myself.
And then I hear the voice of a dear, dear friend (not just an acquaintance) who told me how much she'd missed me when I took a break from Facebook. How she felt like she didn't know what was going on and therefore couldn't share those stories with her husband. And another friend who told me I'd been missed on that same break. And another who said she'd missed the devotionals I would post. And another who said she had missed the silly "Alexisms" I'd share.
And all this has got me thinking: maybe I'm just one of those people who you either love or hate. I don't think there's any middle ground. Either you love my crazy, silly, sometimes-emotional, always-heartfelt updates OR they drive you crazy. And maybe at almost 41 years old, maybe it's time that I learned to accept that. Maybe it's time that I'm okay with just letting people go if I drive them nuts and embrace the ones who love me enough to put up with me. It's okay to admit that I'm a handful....but after giving it some thought, I think I'm a pretty awesome handful.
So, if there's anyone today, or recently, who has walked out of your life, just let them go, like I've had to do. If that person doesn't want to fully embrace who you are, that's okay. There are plenty of people in your life already that will. And there might even be someone right around the corner who has yet to learn how incredible you are. So, don't hold back - just be your normal, awesome self! Cause if you're reading this, I think you're pretty darn cool!
Thanks for being part of my life and all it's craziness. 😀💜🌻
See, I just found out that a friend, well, more like an acquaintance, has de-friended AND blocked me on Facebook. She had made a comment awhile back about wanting off my "crazy train", but I thought she was kidding. Guess she wasn't.....And even though my sweet hubby reminded me (and I agreed with him) that those are the people I shouldn't worry about.....well, I've been worrying about it. I started to let it get me down. And then it reminded me of the few people that had doubted my cancer "story" and how some of those people I still see. And I started going down the path to: how many people out there don't like me?
That's how the mind can work - you learn of one person who isn't on your side and you start thinking maybe she's right. Maybe I AM too much to handle....I mean, the word "craziness" is in the title of this blog. Maybe after all my updates for two years while I was sick, there are people who are just, well, sick and tired of me. Maybe I'd be a bit "over me" too if I was in their shoes. I am someone who notices all the weird things around me and I love to share those stories. Maybe that annoys some people. So, I start to wonder if I need to tailor that, change myself.
And then I hear the voice of a dear, dear friend (not just an acquaintance) who told me how much she'd missed me when I took a break from Facebook. How she felt like she didn't know what was going on and therefore couldn't share those stories with her husband. And another friend who told me I'd been missed on that same break. And another who said she'd missed the devotionals I would post. And another who said she had missed the silly "Alexisms" I'd share.
And all this has got me thinking: maybe I'm just one of those people who you either love or hate. I don't think there's any middle ground. Either you love my crazy, silly, sometimes-emotional, always-heartfelt updates OR they drive you crazy. And maybe at almost 41 years old, maybe it's time that I learned to accept that. Maybe it's time that I'm okay with just letting people go if I drive them nuts and embrace the ones who love me enough to put up with me. It's okay to admit that I'm a handful....but after giving it some thought, I think I'm a pretty awesome handful.
So, if there's anyone today, or recently, who has walked out of your life, just let them go, like I've had to do. If that person doesn't want to fully embrace who you are, that's okay. There are plenty of people in your life already that will. And there might even be someone right around the corner who has yet to learn how incredible you are. So, don't hold back - just be your normal, awesome self! Cause if you're reading this, I think you're pretty darn cool!
Thanks for being part of my life and all it's craziness. 😀💜🌻
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
God's story, my journey
My speech for the Cancer Support Group in February (Please be warned that this is very long since I'm scheduled to speak for half an hour. Most of this you have already heard, so don't feel the need to read. But if you choose to, I'm up for any feedback. Am I giving too much detail, not enough detail? Am I being too matter-of-fact? Am I letting God's light shine through? Thank you.
"I stand before you tonight, not to share MY story, but to share God's story. Because ultimately it is all about Him. I may have walked the journey, but it was all His plan and He knew just how it would end.
It all began in December 2011. There had been three celebrities in the news, under 40, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My husband and I talked about how I needed to get a mammogram. Not because there was any worry, but my company pays for one a year and we decided "better safe than sorry". I wanted to put it off until the New Year because of Christmas coming up, but one day I woke up and thought I'd rather just get it out of the way. The day I went, I had no concerns. Not a one....which in itself is odd because I can worry about ANYTHING. But I have no family history and I couldn't feel any lumps that were out of the ordinary. So, I booked an early appointment, got it out of the way and went on to work.
Two days later, my doctor's office called to ask me to go in for a second mammogram. They assured me repeatedly that it was just a bad picture, there were lots of shadows and it was probably because of my fibrocystic breast disease that they couldn't tell what were cysts and what might be a lump. So, again, I really didn't worry. I scheduled another appointment for that week, went in early and was back to work before 8:30.
Two days later, another phone call. This time I detected a bit of stress in the nurse's voice. She said they had found something a bit "off" and wanted me to go in for an ultrasound. She mentioned an MRI at that point, but had already checked with my insurance company and they required an ultrasound first. So, again we got that scheduled and I went in for the test. By this point, you may be wondering: is she going by herself? Isn't she getting worried? Honestly, I think at the beginning I was in serious denial. My son had a lot of health issues and I just kept telling myself that God wouldn't
put this on my shoulders as well. And if I invited anyone to join me for the tests, that would be admitting that I was nervous. I felt early on that I had to hold it all together on my own or I would really lose control.
So, we did the ultrasound and as I'm sure you can figure out by this point, it came back positive and the next step was the MRI. We were leaving for Houston, TX for Christmas any day and I was given the decision to have the test before or wait until I got back. I decided to have it done before we left, but I wouldn't get the results until after the first of the year. This means that I spent Christmas with our whole family and didn't say a word. Looking back, it was a terrible decision. I'm not good AT ALL about keeping secrets, so everyone could tell I was out of sorts, but didn't know why. And my husband caught the worst of it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was taking out all my worry and nerves out on him. Subconsciously, I wanted him to know what I was dealing with, even though I hadn't told him the first thing. So very unfair to him. And one of the things I regret the most about this journey.
We get back from a not so very fun Christmas because I was on edge the whole time and the first message I got was I needed the MRI. And they wanted to do it ASAP - on a Saturday of all days. This meant I finally had to tell my husband since I didn't want to make up a lie where I was going. I also needed him to stay with our son, so me keeping it a secret was no longer an option. I convinced him I was fine, didn't need him to go with me, it was just a precaution (even though I wasn't lying to him, I could continue lying to myself) and I'd be back in a couple hours. I went, did the test and waited TWO WHOLE WEEKS. What a nightmare those weeks were. I was still dealing with a sick child, work, normal life and trying my HARDEST to keep my mind off of the phone call I wasn't getting.
January 16th the call came when I was at work right before a big presentation I had to give. There was a lump, they were pretty sure it was malignant and they needed to do a biopsy. I went ice cold, told them I was about to walk into a meeting and would have to deal with this later. The nurse told me we needed to get the biopsy scheduled and I told her I just didn't have time for that. I said I would call her back the next day when there was room in my very busy schedule. I walked into my meeting, gave my presentation, sat and listened to everyone else for three LOOOOONNNNNGGGG hours then went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. It was then that I started with all the questions: how was I going to juggle this with work? How was I going to handle a sick child if I was also sick? What would my insurance cover? Would I need chemotherapy? Would I lose my hair? I hadn't even had the biopsy yet, but I knew the answer already. I knew it was bad. Which is why I waited a FULL week before I called that nurse back. I know it was irresponsible and a bit childish, but I just couldn't make myself pick up the phone. I felt that the longer I put it off, I didn't have to deal with the consequences. Until I finally decided to pull up my big girl panties and start facing what was to come.
January 27th, 2012 I went in for my biopsy. Still by myself. I couldn't let go of that mantra "I'm fine until I admit that I'm not fine." It was a simple procedure with only local anesthetic and I was done in less than an hour. The hard part for me wasn't the test, but the waiting to hear back. Since that was a Friday, I knew that I'd have to wait at least the whole weekend to hear back. That following Monday I had to go out of town for work, so I worried about hearing back while I was away from home. And that fear came to fruition. February 2, 2012 I was out to dinner with my boss and co-workers when my cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, I would never have taken the call, but I grabbed it and walked out the door. The look on my boss' face was priceless....it's odd to me how I still remember that day.
The call was pretty quick. The doctor told me I did in fact have cancer, but we caught it early and it was only Stage I. She said as soon as I was back in town, we needed to get together and come up with a plan. A plan.....I couldn't even wrap my head around planning something like this. I said okay....that was the only word I could say: okay. Each thing she told me, that's all I could say in response. Okay. You have breast cancer - okay. We think we caught it early - okay. It's stage I - okay. I need to see you as soon as you're back - okay. How are you holding up? I'm okay. I told her I needed to get back to my dinner and would have to continue this conversation at a later date. I walked back into the restaurant and acted like everything was fine. And continued that act for the next two days while we were in meetings.
When I called my husband the night of the diagnosis, I told him the same thing: I'm okay. I assured him it would be fine. I said it was caught very early and was really not that big of a deal. I SOOOOOOOOOO badly wanted to seem strong for him. I wanted him to be proud of me for how brave I was being. I didn't want to fall apart and force him to pick up the pieces. I decided I would show him what a tough woman he was married to. Looking back, I think that phone call was another big mistake of mine. I wish I hadn't held on to my emotions like I did. I wish I had let myself fall apart. Because I had set myself up to continue this "act" for the duration of my illness. I had started on the train of "I'm fine" and never could figure out how to get off. And that put far too much pressure on me, caused a lot of confusion for the people around me and created some walls that I didn't need to have up at such a rough time. But I had no one but myself to blame.
When I got back from Chattanooga, I went to see my doctor and she explained that a lumpectomy was the best bet, but we would do chemotherapy FIRST before removing the lump to hopefully reduce the size. The less tissue removed, the less visable change to my breast. Sounded like a great plan to me. I was still naive in thinking that it really mattered what my breasts would look like afterwards. Keep in mind, at this time, I was still considered Stage I so I wasn't even thinking of death as a possibility. I was just trying to figure out logistically how to fit all this into my normal life.
I was so afraid of losing my job and therefore my insurance that I didn't say anything to my boss or co-workers. I had missed a lot of time caring for my son and I was so afraid that my boss was going to get fed up with me and find a way to eliminate my job. I know this is technically illegal, but I work for a large corporation and I've seen them find ways to get rid of jobs when someone was sick. There are laws to protect employees, but there are also plenty of ways to work around them. Threfore, I spent the first six months to a year of my disease keeping it a secret from everyone where I worked.
Once chemo started, this was a bit more difficult, but luckily my boss traveled a lot and I scheduled my treatments around his schedule. I would go Monday mornings when he was normally on a plane, be gone just a few hours and then come right into work. I was determined to act as normal as possible. I have no idea what people thought at the beginning since I would get to work pale and spend a lot of time running to the bathroom. But they didn't ask and I wasn't telling. I had my game face on and I wasn't letting it slip for a second. I felt like if I let that mask down, then I would completely fall apart.
And this is why I went to chemo by myself. Yes, I know you will be asking yourself "why would she do that"? and I have a few reasons. First of all, I was still stuck on "I don't want people to see me as weak." I didn't want to be seen as the "sick" girl who needed all kinds of attention. Secondly, at this point, my son was still sick himself and I was focusing all my energy on him. I wasn't allowing myself to admit that I was in need of help - it was my job as his mother to keep it all together for him. He is a very persceptive child and I was doing EVERYTHING in my power to not let him see anything was wrong or different with Mommy. Act like everything is fine and it will be - that was my motto. Thirdly, all of my life, my own Mother was sick and it was my role to take care of her. Since I've been on my own, it's been my purpose to show the world that I'm NOT like my mother. So, I went to the other extreme. I wasn't going to ask for help, I wasn't going to let people see me as sick, I wasn't going to leave the house looking like I had cancer. I was going to be tough as nails, even if it killed me. And I think if I had kept that up, it probably would have. Looking back now, I really regret letting my past dictate how I handled this disease. I missed out on a LOT of help that would have made life a lot easier. But hindsight is 20-20.
Fastforwarding a bit, we did the chemo, it shrunk the tumor and we moved ahead to the lumpectomy. Initially the tests showed that the cancer had NOT spread to my lymph nodes, so there was a lot of celebration. However, I have since learned that initial tests are not always the most accurate. A few days after surgery, I got a call that the cancer had in fact moved into the lymph nodes. There was talk of going back under the knife, but the same day I got the call, I learned I had a blood clot that had traveled to my lungs. I have a blood clotting disorder, so this was a concern from the beginning. Luckily, I had an amazing doctor who recognized my symptoms immediately and got me into her office and on medication ASAP. But this meant no surgery until the clot had resolved itself. So this meant more chemotherapy. Six more weeks of being sick and tired and hiding it as much as I could. During this round of treatments, my son had some major surgery so I had to take a break for a couple weeks to care for him. Luckily, his surgery was a huge success and finally he was on the road to recovery. This meant Mommy could focus on just her illness. Well, as much as mothers ever do.
After the second round of chemo, we did more tests but the blood levels were showing there was still cancer in my body. Let me go back a bit. My cancer was progesterone based and also fed by HER-2. In layman's terms, this makes the cancer spread easier. These are the levels that were constantly being watched. And also why we did Chemo first instead of radiation. They were using chemotherapy specifically targeted for the HER-2 gene. Since we had done two rounds of the IV chemo and there was high levels still remaining, we switched to a pill form of chemo and moved on to radiation focused on the lymph node area. For those who say radiation is easier than chemo, at least for me, that was a big huge lie. I was so completely drained and beyond exhausted. There were days I didn't know how I kept my head up, but still I went to work. I did the radiation every day for three weeks. Longest three weeks of my life.
Fast forward to the end of that and we were faced with a difficult decision. My blood clot had resolved itself so we could start looking at surgical options. We had tried everything else, but now it was time to discuss a mastectomy.To say this was the LAST thing I wanted to do is putting it mildly. I couldn't figure out the logistics with my job, my son, everything around the house, etc, etc. My husband owns his own business so him taking time off to care for me was not in the cards. Also, all of my family lives in FL and the only family close by are my in-laws. It just seemed a lot to ask of two people. But I had tried and tried everything else and it was time to face the facts. We needed to do it and no amount of postponing was going to help things. So, May 7, 2012 was the scheduled day. The Wednesday before I went for a PET scan to make sure they didn't find cancer anywhere else. And this is where the story takes a big turn. I've tried to speed through the details to get to right here because THIS is where God came in.
When I got to the hospital for the PET scan, they were running behind so I went to sit in the chapel to pray. While sitting in there, I noticed an older gentleman off to the side. He got up, walked towards me and asked if he could sit with me. I really wasn't up for company, but I had no idea how to say no. I simply nodded and he took the space to my left. There was no idle chit chat; the first words out of his mouth were: "they aren't going to find anything." I whipped my head towards him and said "what are you talking about????" He simply repeated the words. I just looked at him with my mouth open for what felt like ten minutes but was probably 10 seconds. I said "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but they have already found something. They are just going to see if they find anything else." He said "No, dear. They are not going to find anything. Where there once was something, it will be gone. There will be nothing there. And they won't find anything new." He then placed his hand on my left arm and said "Young lady, you have been healed" and I felt the oddest sensation run from the spot where he'd touched me through my whole body. Like an electric current. While I just sat there in stunned silence, he got up and started to walk away. It took me a second, but I turned around to ask him more questions, but he was gone. There's no way he'd had time to walk out; it was like he had simply vanished. Or had he ever really been there? Time would tell.
I sat in silence for about half an hour until I realized it was time for my scan. I did the scan without sharing the story and then went on about my day. My doctor told me I would hear something from her the next day. However, Thursday came and went. Friday morning came and went. I had no idea what this meant. Until I got the call at 1:22 pm that Friday afternoon. The doctor began by apologizing for not calling me back sooner but there had been something strange with my PET scan. Initially I was scared, but she went on to explain it was something good strange, not bad. She explained that the lump in my breast (the part they hadn't been able to get when they did the lumpectomy) was completely gone. She also told me that they area that had been cut out (where it should show a gray shadow since it would be a hollow area) was completely filled in. It was as if nothing had ever been removed. She also told me that all my blood work had come back COMPLETELY NORMAL. The HER-2 level was zero and all other tests showed zero traces of cancer in my body. She said the delay in getting back to me was because she had 8 radiologists study the scan. None of them could give a scientific reason for the way it looked - and of course they wouldn't use the word, but I knew it was a miracle. The doctor said that she no longer advised a double mastectomy given what the scan showed. She wanted to schedule another biopsy on the lymph nodes, but she didn't see the need for surgery at that time.
I was at work when I got the call and I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I ran over to a few friends that I had told and made such a ruckus that others had to ask me to quiet down. I couldn't help myself. I had been healed by one of God's angels and I wanted to tell the world. I couldn't call my husband and other family members fast enough. I hadn't been that excited since I found out I was pregnant with my son. If I could do a cartwheel, I would have done them down the hallway. If the windows of our office building opened, I would have screamed out "I've been healed." It was such an amazing feeling, knowing that God had stepped in and saved me. And I carried that elation around for the next three months. Until we took a major step backwards.
Like my doctor requested, we did a biopsy on the lymph nodes that had originally shown the cancer the Monday after her call and the results came back completely clear. It was further proof that God's hand was all over this. This was HIS plan and I was just along for the ride. I thought this meant that we were all clear and my breast cancer was now a thing of the past. I started to use the "r word (remission) and my doctor cautioned against that. She said I would go back in three months for follow up tests and we would see at that point. I thought she was just being extra cautious and trying to kill my buzz. But I wouldn't be deterred - I was healed!
Which is why the next round of test results hit me so hard. I wasn't prepared for the bad news that we received. It was back. But how? Why? Why would God heal me in such a miraculous way only to allow the cancer to return? And it was back with a vengeance. In the short three months, the HER-2 levels had gone through the roof and there was a pretty large tumor in the OTHER breast. It had to have moved through the lymph node system. My immediate question was: should we have done the mastectomy? Did we make a terrible mistake? She responded that even if we had removed the breasts, since it was in the lymph nodes, we would have had the same fight on our hands. Removing the breast tissue would not have eliminated the major issue. Either the last biopsy had missed it or God had let it return. Neither was something I understood. The way I viewed it, someone screwed up, and screwed up BIG time or God was really messing with me. To allow me to have such a high and then bring me back down so low. I just didn't get it at all.
Since the cancer had spread and the tumor was larger and we were dealing with the lymph nodes, we had taken a HUGE step backwards into Stage III. Stage III is MUCH scarier than Stage I. Even seeing it on the screen looks scary to me. All I knew is we were in for a MUCH bigger fight. A fight that I wasn't prepared for. My body was still a bit worn out from the first go around and emotionally I just could't pull myself together. I would just sit in a room for hours, after everyone was asleep, asking "Why". And hearing nothing back from God. If ever I have wanted to give up, it was that day in August.
We started chemotherapy right away and this time I had to let my boss in on the news. I tried to share as little as possible, but I couldn't be gone from the office anymore without being noticed. I won't go into all the details here, but from August 2012 until November 2013, I was fighting for my life. Literally, without exaggeration. We did chemo, then scans, then more chemo, more scans, blood work galore, another biopsy, PET scans (when my insurance would allow), IV treatments for low potassium, dehydration, shots for low white blood count, shots to increase red blood count, antibiotics to ward off infection, etc, etc. You all have been there in different ways - you can imagine the fight. And that's what it was - a fight. My doctor threatened to hospitalize me several times so I could just get some rest, but I never sleep in hospitals and I wasn't having any part of it. I told her to treat me anyway she could, but I wanted to be at home with my family. They were what was keeping me sane and I needed to see my baby's face at night.
This battle continued from August 2012 until June 2013. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse - they did. I got a call that the HER-2 levels were continuing to rise no matter what we did and the latest PET scan showed that the tumor had grown, despite the 36 treatments of chemo. And worst of all, they could see several tumors in the lymph nodes in the middle of my chest, right below my breast bone. This was bad, really bad. They offered to get me spiritual counseling and told me I needed to make sure I had a will and had my affairs in order. We were now looking at Stage IV. I was advised Stage IV doesn't have a cure - you can fight it and keep it at bay, but it will never go away. I thanked the doctor for her offer of counseling, but I told her I had a pastor of my own and would reach out to him.
Luckily that night we had an event at church and everyone in attendance prayed over me. It was one of the most moving experiences I've ever had. The love I felt that night for not only me, but my family, was overwhelming. To know that a room full of people were praying at the same time for God to heal me, well, I can't put into words my appreciation. I'll never be able to repay that love and support. There were times over the next several months that I wished I could return to that moment of peace, love and happiness.
I wish I could say that after that night, I got good news and I was in the all clear. But things just kept getting worse. Every phone call had more bad news. Every test result showed something else wrong. There was more surgery to remove the affected lymph nodes in the center of my chest, but the margins weren't clear. They hadn't gotten them all. They could go back in, but there were no promises that they would ever get them all. It was like a spiderweb was just spreading through me. And after that surgery, my body just wasn't in a place to go right back for more. My thyroid, adrenals, white blood count, immune system - basically everything was taking a hit. They didn't know how much more my body would be able to handle.
In addition to the physical, I felt like I was losing some friends in the process of it all. I could understand on one hand - I knew it was wearing me down, so how long could I expect other people to keep hanging on with me? Also, I had a few people questioning how I was handling the cancer fight. I had chosen to keep a blog and a Facebook page so I could keep everyone updated. But this also allowed me NOT to have to talk about it when I was just hanging with my friends. It was critical to me that I not spend my whole life talking about my disease. I DESPERATELY needed that time to just be ME, not ME with cancer. But some people didn't get that. They didn't understand why I wasn't talking about it more, why I didn't let people go with me to treatments. They felt like I was shutting them out.
Many of you here tonight may understand the tightrope I was walking. I had some friends say I was sharing TOO much, expecting TOO much, being TOO needy. So I would pull way back. Then I would have friends say I wasn't letting them in, I wasn't accepting their help, I wasn't keeping them filled in. I was all over the map trying to please this group of people, then trying to please the other group of people. Until I realized NO ONE was happy - especially me. Here I was trying to fight STAGE IV CANCER and I was worried about how everyone around me felt. I was so worried about hurting people's feelings that I was using up very precious energy that should have gone towards my health. But I couldn't seem to stop worrying. I just had this fear that if I DID beat cancer again, I was going to be left with no friends. That I was alienating everyone around me with how I was handling things.
This inner battle went on for FAR too long until two key things happened. One was my husband pointing out that we could find a new church, make new friends, move to a new city, but as long as I was still alive and it was the three of us as a family, that was ALL that mattered. I heard him and I KNEW he was right, but it took a couple more weeks before I was able to put it into practice. The second key occurrence was speaking with an old pastor from our last church. He pointed out to me that maybe God was trying to get me to lean SOLELY on Him. I was trying to get my support from family, co-workers and friends instead of leaning on God. And the more I became desperate about losing my friends, the more it seemed He was pulling me away from them. And I didn't know why. Until that pastor told me: God is making it so you have NO choice but to lean on him. And the longer it was going to take me, the more I was going to lose. See, I'm not very smart at times, but God wasn't giving up on me. He was DESPERATELY trying to teach ME something and I just wasn't getting it. Until that day I did.
I decided I needed to pull waaaaayyyyyy back from everyone and spend time with my God. I needed to take that time I was obsessing over "why is this person mad at me" and spend it with Him. I needed to be reading my Bible instead of Facebook posts. I needed to be praying instead of texting. I won't say it was an easy few weeks, but it's what I had to do to find some inner peace.
It was around this time that I had another scan that showed the lump still in my right breast. No matter what we were doing, it wasn't working. We were at a serious crossroads. I felt like the doctors were starting to give up - NOT because they didn't care, but because we had tried SOOOOO much, far more than I've even listed here. And nothing was working. I started wondering if I was supposed to be accepting the end. Was it going to be my time? I wasn't scared to die because I knew where I was going, but I was scared about the husband and child I would leave behind. Would they be okay without me? I was trying to convince myself they would be, but I just couldn't get there.
Three weeks after the last scan, we got approval for another PET scan. To put things into perspective, we didn't do any treatments during those weeks. The PET scan was again looking to see if it had spread anywhere else. The doctors were really worried at this point about it being in an organ or having metastasized to my bones. By this point I was really prepared for more bad news - it's all we'd been getting for so long. I could never have imagined what my doctor would call to say next. Because it was another miracle.
I wasn't at all prepared for anything good, since like I'd said earlier, the last several months were just full of bad news, worse news and terrible news. So, when my doctor said the cancer was gone, I really didn't understand what she was saying. I thought maybe I was hallucinating and just reliving the phone call from a year and a half ago. Gone? Again? What? How? She stated that not only didn't they find anything on the PET scan but the area in the lymph nodes and in my right breast were gone. There was nothing there at all. It was very surreal to me. I mean, who gets one miracle, let alone two? And we'd been down this road before, so how could I trust that this time that it was real. She and I both agreed that we needed to re-do all the tests, blood work, basically anything we could do. We needed to be ABSOLUTELY sure that we weren't missing anything this time. Of course, we had to get this past my insurance company. They had already covered so much and I didn't know how we'd convince them to cover more scans and tests so soon after this last round. Luckily, I work at the insurance company and I have a liason through the HR department who went to bat for me. My doctor got involved, along with my case manager at the Cancer Treatment Center, explained what we'd been through before and somehow, by the grace of God, got them to approve another PET scan to make sure nothing had been missed. A few days later I went in for the scan and they took 10 vials of blood to make sure they were checking everything possible. We also did two biopsies (on the lymph node area and the right breast) to double check. I just knew I didn't want to go through this again.
November 15, 2013 I got the call. EVERYTHING WAS CLEAR! Not a drop of cancer was found. There was no explanation other than another miracle. It took several days for my brain to grasp but all I could imagine is God wanted me to FINALLY, for the first time in my 40 years, depend SOLELY on Him. He wanted me to lean on him for all my support - not look to friends, family, co-workers, husband, son, etc.
I've had several people tell me it's very hard to believe, and I agree. There are days I still don't believe it myself. I've had a couple people question why I deserve two miracles. My answer is: I don't. I am no more special than any person in this room. And for about two weeks I wrestled with that. Was I worthy? How do I show people that I was worth saving? Why me when I knew of other women who had lost their battle? Now that I was healthy again, what was I going to do with my life? It had to be something incredibly meaningful to show God my appreciation. I even spent a couple days really doubting God - thinking he'd made the wrong decision. As much as a miracle is a major blessing, for a little while, it felt like a ton of pressure. Like I had to prove to the world that I was good enough, special enough to deserve this.
Then it finally hit me - this wasn't MY plan. It was GOD'S. And who was I to question God. I still can't explain why I have been healed for a second time. And I have no guarantees when I go back for my three month check up that they won't find anything again. All I do know is that I have my utmost faith in God. He can handle whatever comes next. And I now know that He is my rock - not all the people around me. Because friends and family are human too - they aren't perfect. And they may not always be able to give you what you want or what you need. But God can. All He asks is that you turn to Him, lean on Him and take the support and love He offers.
To wrap up my long and crazy story, what have I learned from my battle with cancer? First of all, I would tell anyone who has been newly diagnosed, DO NOT START OUT SAYING YOU'RE FINE! You're not fine! NO ONE with cancer is fine. You WILL need help and support and if you start out your journey telling people around you that you're okay, they will start to believe you and not be there when you REALLY need them.
Secondly, take whatever help is offered. Even if it's NOT what you think you need, if someone is offering a meal or a ride to the doctor or to help with your kids, they WANT to do it. And the more you turn them down, the less they will offer in the future.
Third, tell people what you need/want. If people are offering help, but it's not the help you really need, SPEAK UP. And if they don't seem to understand, SPEAK UP again. People may THINK they know what you need, but it's your battle and you may have to "educate" them about what YOU actually need.
Fourth, don't hold the emotions in. LET THEM OUT. Trying to hold them in only causes them to come out at very odd times, which may lead friends and family to think you're a bit crazy. Losing your cool over getting a regular coke vs a diet coke might not make sense. But if you tell them you're scared, worried, terrified, afraid, sick to death of being sick, lonely, sad, etc - these are things people can understand. Just be honest. The people who care about you REALLY want to know how you are.
Fifth, if you feel you have hurt someone's feelings by the way you are handling your fight, apologize once. Maybe twice if that person really matters to you. If they accept your apology, great. That person is in it for the long haul. If they don't, LET IT GO. You are not responsible for how people react - you are only responsible for yourself. If the person or persons can't forgive you, they are not meant to be part of your life at this stage. Move on and focus on the people who ARE there for you. Focusing your attention on those that don't want to be by your side through this battle only takes away energy from your fight. And it also serves to alienate the people who are right there with you, wanting so badly to help.
Lastly, when you are at complete rock bottom, that is when God will be there to pick you up. Look to Him to lift you up - not anyone else. He wants to help you, He's longing to help you. Give Him that chance. It will be the best decision you'll ever make. And it might be the decision that saves your life.
God bless you all and I will be praying that each of you get YOUR miracles. Because everyone in this room, as a child of God, deserves it."
"I stand before you tonight, not to share MY story, but to share God's story. Because ultimately it is all about Him. I may have walked the journey, but it was all His plan and He knew just how it would end.
It all began in December 2011. There had been three celebrities in the news, under 40, who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My husband and I talked about how I needed to get a mammogram. Not because there was any worry, but my company pays for one a year and we decided "better safe than sorry". I wanted to put it off until the New Year because of Christmas coming up, but one day I woke up and thought I'd rather just get it out of the way. The day I went, I had no concerns. Not a one....which in itself is odd because I can worry about ANYTHING. But I have no family history and I couldn't feel any lumps that were out of the ordinary. So, I booked an early appointment, got it out of the way and went on to work.
Two days later, my doctor's office called to ask me to go in for a second mammogram. They assured me repeatedly that it was just a bad picture, there were lots of shadows and it was probably because of my fibrocystic breast disease that they couldn't tell what were cysts and what might be a lump. So, again, I really didn't worry. I scheduled another appointment for that week, went in early and was back to work before 8:30.
Two days later, another phone call. This time I detected a bit of stress in the nurse's voice. She said they had found something a bit "off" and wanted me to go in for an ultrasound. She mentioned an MRI at that point, but had already checked with my insurance company and they required an ultrasound first. So, again we got that scheduled and I went in for the test. By this point, you may be wondering: is she going by herself? Isn't she getting worried? Honestly, I think at the beginning I was in serious denial. My son had a lot of health issues and I just kept telling myself that God wouldn't
put this on my shoulders as well. And if I invited anyone to join me for the tests, that would be admitting that I was nervous. I felt early on that I had to hold it all together on my own or I would really lose control.
So, we did the ultrasound and as I'm sure you can figure out by this point, it came back positive and the next step was the MRI. We were leaving for Houston, TX for Christmas any day and I was given the decision to have the test before or wait until I got back. I decided to have it done before we left, but I wouldn't get the results until after the first of the year. This means that I spent Christmas with our whole family and didn't say a word. Looking back, it was a terrible decision. I'm not good AT ALL about keeping secrets, so everyone could tell I was out of sorts, but didn't know why. And my husband caught the worst of it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was taking out all my worry and nerves out on him. Subconsciously, I wanted him to know what I was dealing with, even though I hadn't told him the first thing. So very unfair to him. And one of the things I regret the most about this journey.
We get back from a not so very fun Christmas because I was on edge the whole time and the first message I got was I needed the MRI. And they wanted to do it ASAP - on a Saturday of all days. This meant I finally had to tell my husband since I didn't want to make up a lie where I was going. I also needed him to stay with our son, so me keeping it a secret was no longer an option. I convinced him I was fine, didn't need him to go with me, it was just a precaution (even though I wasn't lying to him, I could continue lying to myself) and I'd be back in a couple hours. I went, did the test and waited TWO WHOLE WEEKS. What a nightmare those weeks were. I was still dealing with a sick child, work, normal life and trying my HARDEST to keep my mind off of the phone call I wasn't getting.
January 16th the call came when I was at work right before a big presentation I had to give. There was a lump, they were pretty sure it was malignant and they needed to do a biopsy. I went ice cold, told them I was about to walk into a meeting and would have to deal with this later. The nurse told me we needed to get the biopsy scheduled and I told her I just didn't have time for that. I said I would call her back the next day when there was room in my very busy schedule. I walked into my meeting, gave my presentation, sat and listened to everyone else for three LOOOOONNNNNGGGG hours then went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out. It was then that I started with all the questions: how was I going to juggle this with work? How was I going to handle a sick child if I was also sick? What would my insurance cover? Would I need chemotherapy? Would I lose my hair? I hadn't even had the biopsy yet, but I knew the answer already. I knew it was bad. Which is why I waited a FULL week before I called that nurse back. I know it was irresponsible and a bit childish, but I just couldn't make myself pick up the phone. I felt that the longer I put it off, I didn't have to deal with the consequences. Until I finally decided to pull up my big girl panties and start facing what was to come.
January 27th, 2012 I went in for my biopsy. Still by myself. I couldn't let go of that mantra "I'm fine until I admit that I'm not fine." It was a simple procedure with only local anesthetic and I was done in less than an hour. The hard part for me wasn't the test, but the waiting to hear back. Since that was a Friday, I knew that I'd have to wait at least the whole weekend to hear back. That following Monday I had to go out of town for work, so I worried about hearing back while I was away from home. And that fear came to fruition. February 2, 2012 I was out to dinner with my boss and co-workers when my cell phone rang. Under normal circumstances, I would never have taken the call, but I grabbed it and walked out the door. The look on my boss' face was priceless....it's odd to me how I still remember that day.
The call was pretty quick. The doctor told me I did in fact have cancer, but we caught it early and it was only Stage I. She said as soon as I was back in town, we needed to get together and come up with a plan. A plan.....I couldn't even wrap my head around planning something like this. I said okay....that was the only word I could say: okay. Each thing she told me, that's all I could say in response. Okay. You have breast cancer - okay. We think we caught it early - okay. It's stage I - okay. I need to see you as soon as you're back - okay. How are you holding up? I'm okay. I told her I needed to get back to my dinner and would have to continue this conversation at a later date. I walked back into the restaurant and acted like everything was fine. And continued that act for the next two days while we were in meetings.
When I called my husband the night of the diagnosis, I told him the same thing: I'm okay. I assured him it would be fine. I said it was caught very early and was really not that big of a deal. I SOOOOOOOOOO badly wanted to seem strong for him. I wanted him to be proud of me for how brave I was being. I didn't want to fall apart and force him to pick up the pieces. I decided I would show him what a tough woman he was married to. Looking back, I think that phone call was another big mistake of mine. I wish I hadn't held on to my emotions like I did. I wish I had let myself fall apart. Because I had set myself up to continue this "act" for the duration of my illness. I had started on the train of "I'm fine" and never could figure out how to get off. And that put far too much pressure on me, caused a lot of confusion for the people around me and created some walls that I didn't need to have up at such a rough time. But I had no one but myself to blame.
When I got back from Chattanooga, I went to see my doctor and she explained that a lumpectomy was the best bet, but we would do chemotherapy FIRST before removing the lump to hopefully reduce the size. The less tissue removed, the less visable change to my breast. Sounded like a great plan to me. I was still naive in thinking that it really mattered what my breasts would look like afterwards. Keep in mind, at this time, I was still considered Stage I so I wasn't even thinking of death as a possibility. I was just trying to figure out logistically how to fit all this into my normal life.
I was so afraid of losing my job and therefore my insurance that I didn't say anything to my boss or co-workers. I had missed a lot of time caring for my son and I was so afraid that my boss was going to get fed up with me and find a way to eliminate my job. I know this is technically illegal, but I work for a large corporation and I've seen them find ways to get rid of jobs when someone was sick. There are laws to protect employees, but there are also plenty of ways to work around them. Threfore, I spent the first six months to a year of my disease keeping it a secret from everyone where I worked.
Once chemo started, this was a bit more difficult, but luckily my boss traveled a lot and I scheduled my treatments around his schedule. I would go Monday mornings when he was normally on a plane, be gone just a few hours and then come right into work. I was determined to act as normal as possible. I have no idea what people thought at the beginning since I would get to work pale and spend a lot of time running to the bathroom. But they didn't ask and I wasn't telling. I had my game face on and I wasn't letting it slip for a second. I felt like if I let that mask down, then I would completely fall apart.
And this is why I went to chemo by myself. Yes, I know you will be asking yourself "why would she do that"? and I have a few reasons. First of all, I was still stuck on "I don't want people to see me as weak." I didn't want to be seen as the "sick" girl who needed all kinds of attention. Secondly, at this point, my son was still sick himself and I was focusing all my energy on him. I wasn't allowing myself to admit that I was in need of help - it was my job as his mother to keep it all together for him. He is a very persceptive child and I was doing EVERYTHING in my power to not let him see anything was wrong or different with Mommy. Act like everything is fine and it will be - that was my motto. Thirdly, all of my life, my own Mother was sick and it was my role to take care of her. Since I've been on my own, it's been my purpose to show the world that I'm NOT like my mother. So, I went to the other extreme. I wasn't going to ask for help, I wasn't going to let people see me as sick, I wasn't going to leave the house looking like I had cancer. I was going to be tough as nails, even if it killed me. And I think if I had kept that up, it probably would have. Looking back now, I really regret letting my past dictate how I handled this disease. I missed out on a LOT of help that would have made life a lot easier. But hindsight is 20-20.
Fastforwarding a bit, we did the chemo, it shrunk the tumor and we moved ahead to the lumpectomy. Initially the tests showed that the cancer had NOT spread to my lymph nodes, so there was a lot of celebration. However, I have since learned that initial tests are not always the most accurate. A few days after surgery, I got a call that the cancer had in fact moved into the lymph nodes. There was talk of going back under the knife, but the same day I got the call, I learned I had a blood clot that had traveled to my lungs. I have a blood clotting disorder, so this was a concern from the beginning. Luckily, I had an amazing doctor who recognized my symptoms immediately and got me into her office and on medication ASAP. But this meant no surgery until the clot had resolved itself. So this meant more chemotherapy. Six more weeks of being sick and tired and hiding it as much as I could. During this round of treatments, my son had some major surgery so I had to take a break for a couple weeks to care for him. Luckily, his surgery was a huge success and finally he was on the road to recovery. This meant Mommy could focus on just her illness. Well, as much as mothers ever do.
After the second round of chemo, we did more tests but the blood levels were showing there was still cancer in my body. Let me go back a bit. My cancer was progesterone based and also fed by HER-2. In layman's terms, this makes the cancer spread easier. These are the levels that were constantly being watched. And also why we did Chemo first instead of radiation. They were using chemotherapy specifically targeted for the HER-2 gene. Since we had done two rounds of the IV chemo and there was high levels still remaining, we switched to a pill form of chemo and moved on to radiation focused on the lymph node area. For those who say radiation is easier than chemo, at least for me, that was a big huge lie. I was so completely drained and beyond exhausted. There were days I didn't know how I kept my head up, but still I went to work. I did the radiation every day for three weeks. Longest three weeks of my life.
Fast forward to the end of that and we were faced with a difficult decision. My blood clot had resolved itself so we could start looking at surgical options. We had tried everything else, but now it was time to discuss a mastectomy.To say this was the LAST thing I wanted to do is putting it mildly. I couldn't figure out the logistics with my job, my son, everything around the house, etc, etc. My husband owns his own business so him taking time off to care for me was not in the cards. Also, all of my family lives in FL and the only family close by are my in-laws. It just seemed a lot to ask of two people. But I had tried and tried everything else and it was time to face the facts. We needed to do it and no amount of postponing was going to help things. So, May 7, 2012 was the scheduled day. The Wednesday before I went for a PET scan to make sure they didn't find cancer anywhere else. And this is where the story takes a big turn. I've tried to speed through the details to get to right here because THIS is where God came in.
When I got to the hospital for the PET scan, they were running behind so I went to sit in the chapel to pray. While sitting in there, I noticed an older gentleman off to the side. He got up, walked towards me and asked if he could sit with me. I really wasn't up for company, but I had no idea how to say no. I simply nodded and he took the space to my left. There was no idle chit chat; the first words out of his mouth were: "they aren't going to find anything." I whipped my head towards him and said "what are you talking about????" He simply repeated the words. I just looked at him with my mouth open for what felt like ten minutes but was probably 10 seconds. I said "I'm not sure what you're talking about, but they have already found something. They are just going to see if they find anything else." He said "No, dear. They are not going to find anything. Where there once was something, it will be gone. There will be nothing there. And they won't find anything new." He then placed his hand on my left arm and said "Young lady, you have been healed" and I felt the oddest sensation run from the spot where he'd touched me through my whole body. Like an electric current. While I just sat there in stunned silence, he got up and started to walk away. It took me a second, but I turned around to ask him more questions, but he was gone. There's no way he'd had time to walk out; it was like he had simply vanished. Or had he ever really been there? Time would tell.
I sat in silence for about half an hour until I realized it was time for my scan. I did the scan without sharing the story and then went on about my day. My doctor told me I would hear something from her the next day. However, Thursday came and went. Friday morning came and went. I had no idea what this meant. Until I got the call at 1:22 pm that Friday afternoon. The doctor began by apologizing for not calling me back sooner but there had been something strange with my PET scan. Initially I was scared, but she went on to explain it was something good strange, not bad. She explained that the lump in my breast (the part they hadn't been able to get when they did the lumpectomy) was completely gone. She also told me that they area that had been cut out (where it should show a gray shadow since it would be a hollow area) was completely filled in. It was as if nothing had ever been removed. She also told me that all my blood work had come back COMPLETELY NORMAL. The HER-2 level was zero and all other tests showed zero traces of cancer in my body. She said the delay in getting back to me was because she had 8 radiologists study the scan. None of them could give a scientific reason for the way it looked - and of course they wouldn't use the word, but I knew it was a miracle. The doctor said that she no longer advised a double mastectomy given what the scan showed. She wanted to schedule another biopsy on the lymph nodes, but she didn't see the need for surgery at that time.
I was at work when I got the call and I was ecstatic. Over the moon. I ran over to a few friends that I had told and made such a ruckus that others had to ask me to quiet down. I couldn't help myself. I had been healed by one of God's angels and I wanted to tell the world. I couldn't call my husband and other family members fast enough. I hadn't been that excited since I found out I was pregnant with my son. If I could do a cartwheel, I would have done them down the hallway. If the windows of our office building opened, I would have screamed out "I've been healed." It was such an amazing feeling, knowing that God had stepped in and saved me. And I carried that elation around for the next three months. Until we took a major step backwards.
Like my doctor requested, we did a biopsy on the lymph nodes that had originally shown the cancer the Monday after her call and the results came back completely clear. It was further proof that God's hand was all over this. This was HIS plan and I was just along for the ride. I thought this meant that we were all clear and my breast cancer was now a thing of the past. I started to use the "r word (remission) and my doctor cautioned against that. She said I would go back in three months for follow up tests and we would see at that point. I thought she was just being extra cautious and trying to kill my buzz. But I wouldn't be deterred - I was healed!
Which is why the next round of test results hit me so hard. I wasn't prepared for the bad news that we received. It was back. But how? Why? Why would God heal me in such a miraculous way only to allow the cancer to return? And it was back with a vengeance. In the short three months, the HER-2 levels had gone through the roof and there was a pretty large tumor in the OTHER breast. It had to have moved through the lymph node system. My immediate question was: should we have done the mastectomy? Did we make a terrible mistake? She responded that even if we had removed the breasts, since it was in the lymph nodes, we would have had the same fight on our hands. Removing the breast tissue would not have eliminated the major issue. Either the last biopsy had missed it or God had let it return. Neither was something I understood. The way I viewed it, someone screwed up, and screwed up BIG time or God was really messing with me. To allow me to have such a high and then bring me back down so low. I just didn't get it at all.
Since the cancer had spread and the tumor was larger and we were dealing with the lymph nodes, we had taken a HUGE step backwards into Stage III. Stage III is MUCH scarier than Stage I. Even seeing it on the screen looks scary to me. All I knew is we were in for a MUCH bigger fight. A fight that I wasn't prepared for. My body was still a bit worn out from the first go around and emotionally I just could't pull myself together. I would just sit in a room for hours, after everyone was asleep, asking "Why". And hearing nothing back from God. If ever I have wanted to give up, it was that day in August.
We started chemotherapy right away and this time I had to let my boss in on the news. I tried to share as little as possible, but I couldn't be gone from the office anymore without being noticed. I won't go into all the details here, but from August 2012 until November 2013, I was fighting for my life. Literally, without exaggeration. We did chemo, then scans, then more chemo, more scans, blood work galore, another biopsy, PET scans (when my insurance would allow), IV treatments for low potassium, dehydration, shots for low white blood count, shots to increase red blood count, antibiotics to ward off infection, etc, etc. You all have been there in different ways - you can imagine the fight. And that's what it was - a fight. My doctor threatened to hospitalize me several times so I could just get some rest, but I never sleep in hospitals and I wasn't having any part of it. I told her to treat me anyway she could, but I wanted to be at home with my family. They were what was keeping me sane and I needed to see my baby's face at night.
This battle continued from August 2012 until June 2013. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse - they did. I got a call that the HER-2 levels were continuing to rise no matter what we did and the latest PET scan showed that the tumor had grown, despite the 36 treatments of chemo. And worst of all, they could see several tumors in the lymph nodes in the middle of my chest, right below my breast bone. This was bad, really bad. They offered to get me spiritual counseling and told me I needed to make sure I had a will and had my affairs in order. We were now looking at Stage IV. I was advised Stage IV doesn't have a cure - you can fight it and keep it at bay, but it will never go away. I thanked the doctor for her offer of counseling, but I told her I had a pastor of my own and would reach out to him.
Luckily that night we had an event at church and everyone in attendance prayed over me. It was one of the most moving experiences I've ever had. The love I felt that night for not only me, but my family, was overwhelming. To know that a room full of people were praying at the same time for God to heal me, well, I can't put into words my appreciation. I'll never be able to repay that love and support. There were times over the next several months that I wished I could return to that moment of peace, love and happiness.
I wish I could say that after that night, I got good news and I was in the all clear. But things just kept getting worse. Every phone call had more bad news. Every test result showed something else wrong. There was more surgery to remove the affected lymph nodes in the center of my chest, but the margins weren't clear. They hadn't gotten them all. They could go back in, but there were no promises that they would ever get them all. It was like a spiderweb was just spreading through me. And after that surgery, my body just wasn't in a place to go right back for more. My thyroid, adrenals, white blood count, immune system - basically everything was taking a hit. They didn't know how much more my body would be able to handle.
In addition to the physical, I felt like I was losing some friends in the process of it all. I could understand on one hand - I knew it was wearing me down, so how long could I expect other people to keep hanging on with me? Also, I had a few people questioning how I was handling the cancer fight. I had chosen to keep a blog and a Facebook page so I could keep everyone updated. But this also allowed me NOT to have to talk about it when I was just hanging with my friends. It was critical to me that I not spend my whole life talking about my disease. I DESPERATELY needed that time to just be ME, not ME with cancer. But some people didn't get that. They didn't understand why I wasn't talking about it more, why I didn't let people go with me to treatments. They felt like I was shutting them out.
Many of you here tonight may understand the tightrope I was walking. I had some friends say I was sharing TOO much, expecting TOO much, being TOO needy. So I would pull way back. Then I would have friends say I wasn't letting them in, I wasn't accepting their help, I wasn't keeping them filled in. I was all over the map trying to please this group of people, then trying to please the other group of people. Until I realized NO ONE was happy - especially me. Here I was trying to fight STAGE IV CANCER and I was worried about how everyone around me felt. I was so worried about hurting people's feelings that I was using up very precious energy that should have gone towards my health. But I couldn't seem to stop worrying. I just had this fear that if I DID beat cancer again, I was going to be left with no friends. That I was alienating everyone around me with how I was handling things.
This inner battle went on for FAR too long until two key things happened. One was my husband pointing out that we could find a new church, make new friends, move to a new city, but as long as I was still alive and it was the three of us as a family, that was ALL that mattered. I heard him and I KNEW he was right, but it took a couple more weeks before I was able to put it into practice. The second key occurrence was speaking with an old pastor from our last church. He pointed out to me that maybe God was trying to get me to lean SOLELY on Him. I was trying to get my support from family, co-workers and friends instead of leaning on God. And the more I became desperate about losing my friends, the more it seemed He was pulling me away from them. And I didn't know why. Until that pastor told me: God is making it so you have NO choice but to lean on him. And the longer it was going to take me, the more I was going to lose. See, I'm not very smart at times, but God wasn't giving up on me. He was DESPERATELY trying to teach ME something and I just wasn't getting it. Until that day I did.
I decided I needed to pull waaaaayyyyyy back from everyone and spend time with my God. I needed to take that time I was obsessing over "why is this person mad at me" and spend it with Him. I needed to be reading my Bible instead of Facebook posts. I needed to be praying instead of texting. I won't say it was an easy few weeks, but it's what I had to do to find some inner peace.
It was around this time that I had another scan that showed the lump still in my right breast. No matter what we were doing, it wasn't working. We were at a serious crossroads. I felt like the doctors were starting to give up - NOT because they didn't care, but because we had tried SOOOOO much, far more than I've even listed here. And nothing was working. I started wondering if I was supposed to be accepting the end. Was it going to be my time? I wasn't scared to die because I knew where I was going, but I was scared about the husband and child I would leave behind. Would they be okay without me? I was trying to convince myself they would be, but I just couldn't get there.
Three weeks after the last scan, we got approval for another PET scan. To put things into perspective, we didn't do any treatments during those weeks. The PET scan was again looking to see if it had spread anywhere else. The doctors were really worried at this point about it being in an organ or having metastasized to my bones. By this point I was really prepared for more bad news - it's all we'd been getting for so long. I could never have imagined what my doctor would call to say next. Because it was another miracle.
I wasn't at all prepared for anything good, since like I'd said earlier, the last several months were just full of bad news, worse news and terrible news. So, when my doctor said the cancer was gone, I really didn't understand what she was saying. I thought maybe I was hallucinating and just reliving the phone call from a year and a half ago. Gone? Again? What? How? She stated that not only didn't they find anything on the PET scan but the area in the lymph nodes and in my right breast were gone. There was nothing there at all. It was very surreal to me. I mean, who gets one miracle, let alone two? And we'd been down this road before, so how could I trust that this time that it was real. She and I both agreed that we needed to re-do all the tests, blood work, basically anything we could do. We needed to be ABSOLUTELY sure that we weren't missing anything this time. Of course, we had to get this past my insurance company. They had already covered so much and I didn't know how we'd convince them to cover more scans and tests so soon after this last round. Luckily, I work at the insurance company and I have a liason through the HR department who went to bat for me. My doctor got involved, along with my case manager at the Cancer Treatment Center, explained what we'd been through before and somehow, by the grace of God, got them to approve another PET scan to make sure nothing had been missed. A few days later I went in for the scan and they took 10 vials of blood to make sure they were checking everything possible. We also did two biopsies (on the lymph node area and the right breast) to double check. I just knew I didn't want to go through this again.
November 15, 2013 I got the call. EVERYTHING WAS CLEAR! Not a drop of cancer was found. There was no explanation other than another miracle. It took several days for my brain to grasp but all I could imagine is God wanted me to FINALLY, for the first time in my 40 years, depend SOLELY on Him. He wanted me to lean on him for all my support - not look to friends, family, co-workers, husband, son, etc.
I've had several people tell me it's very hard to believe, and I agree. There are days I still don't believe it myself. I've had a couple people question why I deserve two miracles. My answer is: I don't. I am no more special than any person in this room. And for about two weeks I wrestled with that. Was I worthy? How do I show people that I was worth saving? Why me when I knew of other women who had lost their battle? Now that I was healthy again, what was I going to do with my life? It had to be something incredibly meaningful to show God my appreciation. I even spent a couple days really doubting God - thinking he'd made the wrong decision. As much as a miracle is a major blessing, for a little while, it felt like a ton of pressure. Like I had to prove to the world that I was good enough, special enough to deserve this.
Then it finally hit me - this wasn't MY plan. It was GOD'S. And who was I to question God. I still can't explain why I have been healed for a second time. And I have no guarantees when I go back for my three month check up that they won't find anything again. All I do know is that I have my utmost faith in God. He can handle whatever comes next. And I now know that He is my rock - not all the people around me. Because friends and family are human too - they aren't perfect. And they may not always be able to give you what you want or what you need. But God can. All He asks is that you turn to Him, lean on Him and take the support and love He offers.
To wrap up my long and crazy story, what have I learned from my battle with cancer? First of all, I would tell anyone who has been newly diagnosed, DO NOT START OUT SAYING YOU'RE FINE! You're not fine! NO ONE with cancer is fine. You WILL need help and support and if you start out your journey telling people around you that you're okay, they will start to believe you and not be there when you REALLY need them.
Secondly, take whatever help is offered. Even if it's NOT what you think you need, if someone is offering a meal or a ride to the doctor or to help with your kids, they WANT to do it. And the more you turn them down, the less they will offer in the future.
Third, tell people what you need/want. If people are offering help, but it's not the help you really need, SPEAK UP. And if they don't seem to understand, SPEAK UP again. People may THINK they know what you need, but it's your battle and you may have to "educate" them about what YOU actually need.
Fourth, don't hold the emotions in. LET THEM OUT. Trying to hold them in only causes them to come out at very odd times, which may lead friends and family to think you're a bit crazy. Losing your cool over getting a regular coke vs a diet coke might not make sense. But if you tell them you're scared, worried, terrified, afraid, sick to death of being sick, lonely, sad, etc - these are things people can understand. Just be honest. The people who care about you REALLY want to know how you are.
Fifth, if you feel you have hurt someone's feelings by the way you are handling your fight, apologize once. Maybe twice if that person really matters to you. If they accept your apology, great. That person is in it for the long haul. If they don't, LET IT GO. You are not responsible for how people react - you are only responsible for yourself. If the person or persons can't forgive you, they are not meant to be part of your life at this stage. Move on and focus on the people who ARE there for you. Focusing your attention on those that don't want to be by your side through this battle only takes away energy from your fight. And it also serves to alienate the people who are right there with you, wanting so badly to help.
Lastly, when you are at complete rock bottom, that is when God will be there to pick you up. Look to Him to lift you up - not anyone else. He wants to help you, He's longing to help you. Give Him that chance. It will be the best decision you'll ever make. And it might be the decision that saves your life.
God bless you all and I will be praying that each of you get YOUR miracles. Because everyone in this room, as a child of God, deserves it."
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