My Life

I recently mentioned in a blog post about an upcoming surgery I was having and some trepidation I was feeling about the procedure, recovery and the general 'ugh-ness' of it all. Well, said surgery was ten days ago. I survived it, and only passed out one time while getting the IV. Why, medical types, must you 'talk' about how nice my veins are? Just be efficient, effective, kind, successful the first time, and be on your way. Don't talk tenderly to my arms, as you pat and rub, trying to find just the right spot, commenting over and over how great this is going to be with veins like these. Gasp. Out I go, every time. No matter how hard I try, out cold.

The procedure went well...a little longer than planned, but all good. And they didn't even have to interrupt my pacemaker, which was good news to me. Coming out of anesthesia only took ten hours, but eventually I did, and made it home no issue the next day. Recovery is slow, but it is happening, as the air pumped in my tummy moves, dissipates and releases, and the incisions heal. I am still moving very slow, can't bend, lift or twist, body is aching and my insides are sore.

But amid all this fun happening with my body, I've noticed a few things about my life that I'm, somewhat, unable to participate in right now. Nothing totally new, or earth shattering, but things I've seen from the couch that probably go unnoticed more often then they should. I have a great thing going here. An amazing thing really. I have a wonderful husband who loves me and our kids, who will jump right in and handle 'mom' duties, tend to me when I need help and still get the trash to the end of the drive with four little, jammy clad helpers. He might not have kept their dressers as organized as I do, and three days worth of clothes were strewn about their bedroom floors the first time I made it up, but they were dressed, fed, bathed, princess' hair was combed (ouch!), and no one suffered for the messy floors or dressers.

My boys, they are surprisingly nurturing little guys. They brought me woo-woos, pillows, gave me gentle side hugs, worried when I winced and asked if I was ok with every cough. They were quick to help if I dropped something and sweet enough to tell me they missed my bedtime snuggles. I love the little men they are becoming. They play with the toy kitchen and food and prepare 'sick soup', as naturally as they become super heroes charging through the house and out the door fighting bad guys. Their imaginations are active, they are smart and kind, and I love them.

My girl. She is becoming the rottenest one in the house. She is independant and stubborn, and almost everything she does that we try to help her with, is quickly followed by, "No, me!", or "I do it!". Normally, when I am immersed in my day, this can be very frustrating, even annoying, as it usually slows me down to let her work through things on her own, but these days as an observer of my life, I find it fascinating to watch this little bitty girl, smaller than many half her age, struggle to learn new things, accomplish new tasks, and be slowed by nothing, as she spends her days keeping up with, and holding her own against, her brothers. I have watched her with her babies as she feeds them, talks to them about their behavior or the day ahead, rocks and sings them to sleep, tucks them in and whispers her love to them. It may be the greatest compliment to a mother, to watch her daughter act out her role. (Or perhaps otherwise....thankfully I haven't seen her act out my not so positive maternal traits yet!) I love watching her. I love when she brings her baby to sit next to me, pats my leg and tells me how much she loves me. Having a daughter is like a mini mirror, God's challenge and gift to us moms.

I have had several 'down' days to ponder this fast moving life I lead and find myself thinking about life before them, then the flood of love that entered my life with the arrival of each of them. I know, in the trenches, it's hard to slow down and appreciate the details, but I hope the reminder I've had during this recovery, helps me to pause long enough to enjoy these moments along the way. These days are going so fast. They grow and change over night and when the sun comes up each day, I want to say, "I was there, I saw it all, and it was amazing."

Give Us This Day

We all have them, the seasons of struggle, hurt, loss, conflict, pain... Where you feel it keeps piling on and at each new turn you are sure it is all you can bear.  But somehow, you are able. Somehow, through tears, frustration, pain, you find the hope, the strength, the need and desire and you keep on. Sometimes just because. Sometimes because others need you. Sometimes because, lets be honest, what else would you do? Quit? Leave? For most of us, it doesn't work like that. We are fighters and survivors with strength we know nothing of.

We are in one such season. The short list includes, but not limited to:

Gram. Her health is declining. While none of us knows the hour, we can lean a little on statistics for the hope of many more years, but we no longer have that luxury with her. She's tired. Her body is weak. We all know what is to come, the question is when. Her health has declined about four times since last summer and each time she surprises us all with a mighty comeback, but each time takes a little more out of her. The strain of not knowing is heavy for me, as I watch her sleep more and do less.

Scott. Just a few weeks ago he had a simple procedure to remove a cancer spot on his ear go terribly bad, and now, has an almost identical spot on his other ear. The appointment is next week and should also be a simple procedure, but given the last time, you can understand our trepidation this time around.

A friend. We have friends in a foster care situation that shows the frustrating side of this system. It's not my story to give details about, but reminds me of the time we thought we might lose Timothy. The heartbreak and helplessness that goes with that is indescribable.While this is not our struggle to bear, I am bearing this hurt with her and am burdened for her and her family.

Me. Ugh. I'm having surgery soon. It's a woman thing. It's perfectly routine. I'll be fine. But ugh. The down time required is pretty long and we have a fairly busy existence with these four youths. Not lifting, or running, or zipping about my daily routine for six weeks will be bothersome. I'm not really complaining, but...did I say ugh? I just don't like surgery (I know, who does?). They have to interrupt my battery (pacemaker) when they put me under, I don't respond well to anesthesia, and generally speaking, I'm a big ole baby when it comes to this kind of stuff. I know everything will be fine, but I fret. Will Gram be ok? What if she needs me? Will the kids be ok completely without me for those first two to three days? (Of course, but I'm one of those, 'my whole world will fall apart without me' types. Yes, the Lord is working on my pride. Thank you for your prayers.)

Then there's the rest of life.... the homeschooling first grader, the potty training three year old, our six year old learning to read, baseball season is starting (yay!), sinus infections, laundry for days....the list goes on and on. In the same way the sun comes up each day, life rolls on, busy, wonderful, tiring, exciting and relentless…. whether we are in a difficult season or not. My daughter peed her pants about 15 minutes after I found out my Gram was having internal bleeding. It almost undid me. Peed her pants, ten feet from the bathroom, and I lost it. Life. Sometimes we are superheroes... Sometimes, we barely make it. 

This is where God met us recently. Trying simply to get through the day. Scott looked gently at me and said, "Give us this day, our daily bread". We don't need to worry about surgery two weeks away, we need to get through right now. Help Gram. School Timothy. Feed the kids. And sleep. Sometimes it really is that simple. Lord, just give us enough to get through right now. As manna fell from Heaven each night for the Israelites, He will meet our needs today.

If you are in such a season as this, don't forget the example set before us, 

Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not, into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever. Amen. 

Date Night

Car selfie, he loves that I make him do this!

Scott and I went on a date last night. We've had it planned for about a month now....Actors Theater and Morton's. It was a lovely and delicious evening. 

It was also the first time we've been together in the car where 'it' happened. Where I thought I had lost him. Where Jesus literally took the wheel and a 911 dispatcher became one of my greatest coaches (and I've had some really great coaches!). Where he looked at me and said, "I'm ok, calm down."

It's been two weeks since it happened and for the most part we are back to normal. The first few days, I struggled when he'd drive....what if it happened again? But, it was such an anomaly that the fear faded and my nerves have calmed. I even chuckled a little recalling the story to a friend who hadn't heard...the first time I didn't sob, or get choked up as I said the words.

But, being out together, two things came to mind that keep coming back to me today.

First, as we made our way into Louisville last night, at the same mile markers and exit where his episode occurred, I was amazed again to realize, of all the details I remember, I have no memory of driving, or the traffic around us. I thought, as I looked around at the other cars, we have no idea what's happening in there. What the conversation is, or where they are going, or why. How many cars passed us that night, completely unaware of the fact my husband was going into shock, or that I may, or may not have actually had my hands on the wheel, that I was screaming and scared, or that I was calling 911? All of them, I guess. Why would any of us concern ourselves with what is happening in someone else's car?

It's not like that will change for me. I doubt I will think of, or crane my neck to see, what is happening as I pass others on the road, but it did occur to me, we just have no idea. Maybe as that car slows suddenly, or swerves into my lane, I could refrain from my usual angry driver banter and offer a little grace. A little prayer of, "protect them Lord" as I move along my merry way.

And second, I am deeply in love with this man. I'm sure this is a mostly obvious kind of statement. People that know us well, know that we are that, always sit together, always hold hands, always professing our love, kind of couple. I've had those thoughts of how hard it would be without him, how much I would miss him, but in those reflective moments he's always right there with me, sharing the same sentiment about me.

Those moments, while only a matter of seconds, fall into the very small stack of game changers I've experienced in my forty years. Those things that cause you to look at your life just a little differently. To wake up and really see. We all know, and have probably said things like, 'life is short, make it count', or some other random cliche`, but when I was hit with how fragile his life was, my goodness. This strong man who is supposed to take care of me, keep me safe, lift me up when I fall. He was weak, and vulnerable, and helpless, just like the rest of us. People, life really is a miracle. All of it. And every one of us will someday have that moment when the fragility of our life is upon us. When we are not in control. When either we, or those around us, realize, this could be it. Are you prepared for that?

I know two things after this experience. I know I love the way my hand feels in his. Everything about it says I am his and he will hold me close for all his days. Everything else that goes along with that is pretty great too, but his hands....the way they hold me...I love that. And I know, if he had gone that night, that he would be with his Creator, dancing and singing and praising, and even though the fear of that reality is pretty great, I also know what great peace will come with that knowledge.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

If you don't know Him: Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. (Matthew 7:7)

"What's Your Emergency?"

Our family faced a scary situation this past weekend that has me wondering what God is trying to work in us, or teach us, or if it has any significance what so ever. For the past ten and a half months we have been rocked several times, at least four of them pretty high on any scale. The first was an incident involving our kids last April that I am STILL not at liberty to mention, and have yet to decide if I will when the time comes, the second was my Gram's health when she had a heart attack in July and the subsequent set backs she's faced since then. The third was of a personal nature, but threatened to hurt our marriage, and now this.

Friday morning, Scott had a small cancerous spot taken from the 'bowl' of his right ear, a spot about the size of my pinky nail. After, he had lunch with his cousin, then a dentist appointment since he was already in Louisville. On the drive home he mentioned blood was seeping from the dressing in his ear. By the time he made it home and was removing the bandages, our bathroom looked like a crime scene. His mom is a nurse and, knowing I'm not equipped to handle that type of thing, came up to repack the wound. He bled through the first one in minutes, concerning her, but when the second held up she left feeling like the bleeding had slowed and would soon stop. An hour later she was back at the house to stay with our kids, and we were on our way to the ER to stop the bleed.

We were there approximately three hours and the only attempt to stop it was the application of surgicel which lasted less than thirty minutes before blood flowed freely again. I'm no medical expert and don't have a clue what 'losing too much blood' looks like, but I know he lost a lot, and that it had been going on for about seven hours, getting worse as time went on. The only prayer I could manage through it all was, "God, please just stop the bleeding."

Finally, the decision was made to send us to a hospital in Louisville, about forty five minutes away, up an interstate that is blocked by traffic or wrecks about three out of every seven days. And he was now bleeding through about every two to three minutes. I did not have a good feeling. But, he said he felt fine and was just irritated enough at the lack of effort and/or ability to stop the bleeding, that he was ready to leave. We never saw a surgeon and they never drew labs. Just sent us on our way with a package of gauze and a few hospital towels to sop up the mess.

Now, this part sounds a little ridiculous considering the bleeding that was going on, but would prove necessary within the next thirty minutes. Both of our phones where under 10% battery charge and neither of us had eaten since noon (now almost 9 pm), so we left the hospital and headed straight for Best Buy to purchase a car charger, then I zipped through Wendy's for a burger before jumping on the interstate (they didn't want him to eat in case they needed to put him under for anything). This is important, because with my heart condition (vaso-vagal syncope requiring a pacemaker), my episodes are always worse when my blood sugar is low. With what was to come, it was potentially life saving that we had the charger and I had eaten. So, phone charging and burger being eaten, up the interstate we flew.

I had no idea where I was going, having never been to this hospital, and don't like navigating Louisville in the daytime when I do know where I'm going. So, with Scott navigating and fielding phone calls from his mom who had our kids, we were making our way. That is, until we got into Louisville and he started swaying. I said, "Scott, are you ok?" To which he replied that he was getting dizzy and didn't know if he should put his head between his knees or lay back. I called his mom immediately. I've passed out so many times I wasn't all that upset that he was dizzy, even though he has never had such an episode, I just had no idea where I was going and needed someone to direct me in. However, within seconds, what happened was so much worse than passing out. Conveying this in writing will do it no justice, but as he was trying to get leaned back, his arm dropped off his ear so I knew he'd lost consciousness and I shouted so to my mother-in-law, Norma. My voice got louder and more panicked as he fell forward seizing and shaking as his eyes rolled back and I yelled, "Something's wrong! He's shaking, oh my God, he's throwing up!" She began yelling back at me to get off the road and call 911, but nothing would register. Scott fell back shaking again after throwing up, then fell forward completely limp with his eyes and mouth hanging open. I thought he had died, and was screaming so to his mom, 50 miles away, home with my kids, unable to do anything but yell over and over, "Julia, call 911. Call 911. Stop the car and call 911." I cry now, remembering the panic in both our voices. Her yelling woke our kids up, so now I could hear their cries in the background, over my own crying, when suddenly the only two sounds I heard where the cries of our sons and the numbers '911'.

Understand, that was all within a matter of seconds. Maybe 30. Maybe a minute. I really have no idea, but it felt like forever and I saw everything I hold dear flash before my eyes. The way he feels. The way we laugh. How our favorite thing to do is anything we do together. How much we adore our kids and how long we prayed for this wonderful little family God has given us. How they adore their daddy. How would we make it without him. I struggled to breathe, to make sense of what was happening, to find the key pad on my phone and dial those three little numbers. 911. "What's your emergency?"

The lump in my throat is so tight trying to type this. I have no idea what all I yelled at her but it was some combination of the fact that we were on I65 trying to make it to the hospital, that my husband had been bleeding for almost eight hours and that now I thought he had convulsed and died, that I had no idea where I was going and no idea if I could make it without passing out myself. Then he looked up at me with half hallow eyes and said, "I'm ok. Calm down." My goodness how the flood gates opened then as I told her, "He's not dead!" She said I had two exits to go, could I make it? I said I could if she could tell me where to go. Like a boss, that girl kept me calm (relatively speaking) and guided me to the emergency room entrance then wished us the best as we hung up. Scott had fully come to at this point, looking rough, but alert and most importantly, alive.

As I was preparing to jump out and run in for help, he said, "Jules, my ear stopped bleeding."

WHAT?!?! How? After eight hours it stopped sometime just before, during or after those terrible moments. Ironically, now we were rushing into the ER for a bleeding wound that had finally clotted and an eerie episode of shock just miles up the road, with a fully alert, shirtless (remember the vomit), man and his inconsolable wife. The remainder of the night is really unimportant, other than the fact all his labs showed he was fine and his ear never did bleed again. We were sent home about three hours later, exhausted, confused and grateful. Three hours before, I was wondering how I would ever tell our kids that their daddy wasn't coming home, and now, we were headed that way together, wanting badly to kiss each of their little heads. We had no answers for the events that had transpired, but he was fine and we were tired. Somewhere on that drive, still annoyed that no one could tell me why, after all those hours, it finally clotted when it did, I remembered the only prayer I could pray, "God, please just stop the bleeding" so, I decided to simply give thanks.

It was one of the most intensely traumatic things I've ever been through, and Scott has finally opened up that the whole thing has him pretty upset up as well. He is such a tough guy, unmoved by blood, combat or fear. But, when hit head on with our life and all that holds, he was shook to the core.

What is God working in us? I have no idea, but we will cling to His truth, continue to love with reckless abandon, and give thanks. Over and over and over, because none of this is promised to us. Not a day, or moment, is in our control. He is the object of our affection and our faith. He will sustain and comfort us. He will equip and prepare us. For what...only He knows.

Turning 40!?!

Channeling my inner Cougar Town, I'll "what the what" as I hold up Big Carl and toast this new decade with wonder, laughter and a little surprise. Here's to you proverbial 'top of the hill', I'd like to enjoy the view a while if that's ok with you. I'm not 'over' anything quite yet.

A moment of reflection if you don't mind...a decade ago, at 30, I was in the middle of 500 miles of training for a 26.2 mile marathon which I ran in 3:52 minutes, missing the Boston qualifying time by 22 minutes. I flatlined a month later, requiring the implanting of a pacemaker. Five months later, I ran a half marathon, then divorced my first husband, rounding out my year, in hindsight, running from something I couldn't escape, namely myself. It was a year of 'big' stuff. Moments I was very proud of, and moments I wanted to forget. Moments that saved my life and changed my life. My perspective changed after that year, as did my focus, outlook and relationship with the Lord.

31 brought a new relationship. 

32, marriage to my best friend. 

33, a new teaching career and motherhood.

34, a second child at the start of the year, and my first pregnancy at the end of the year. 

35, a rerouting of careers from special education teacher to stay at home mom, birth of a son and adoption of our first two. 

37, our fourth child. 

39, her adoption. 

And now, I'm 40. 

Where in the world did the time go?! I look back at those 500 miles of training ten years ago and wonder why I thought that was so tough. No, that's not true, it was tough, but pretty sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere. I learned a lot about myself during that time, and in the years since. I have strength I never dreamed of, the ability to love and be loved, and faith in the One who has known me through it all. 

I said back then that I would qualify for Boston by 35, then I pushed it back to 40 when the family started, feeling like 40 was a world away. After all, I just needed three to four months to train then another few months to maintain to run Boston with a little competitive fuel. I could do that anytime. Then BAM. 40 came a calling.

And to be honest, I'm really not all that worried about the number. 40's not bad actually. I'm pretty sure of who I am these days. I'm ok with those who don't like it and fond of those who do. But what gets me is, when did I stop being one of the youngest in the room, and start being one of the oldest? I'm ten years older than most people who have kids our age, and have watched mom's around my age graduate their children, send them to college and the service, or become grandparents! I'm not 32 anymore and, for some reason, that surprises me more often than it should. 

But, I'm as content as I ever have been. I know what's important to me.  I know what's worth fighting for and what's not. I'm less selfish than I was a decade ago. I'm in love with the life and the family God has given me. And most importantly, I'm not running anymore. I'm digging in, holding on a little tighter and loving a little deeper. I still hope to qualify for Boston someday, but am perfectly ok not putting a timeline on it anymore. God had a different kind of race in store for me and I don't want to miss it. So, cheers 40. "What the what!"