Hurricanes and other emotional disasters

In the weeks and months following my ectopic pregnancy I was plagued with grief and sorrow and loss—but also, and unexpectedly, I was lost in confusion. Confusion in my faith and God and what I had always thought I'd known as "revelation" or "inspiration". In this state of confusion and fractured faith I also felt misguided, misled... a deep distrust settled over my shoulders and gripped me tightly. My world darkened as my trust faded. I'd always been told to trust in Christ, to trust in the Holy Spirit as it would guide me, light my mind with Heaven's view. Now I questioned those feelings I had thought had come from the Spirit, those feelings that led Jason and I down the path of a second round of IVF and ultimately nearly end my life. I went through each day numbly; the numbness a sort of protective coating for the doubt and pain that enveloped me, too poignant and fresh it was sure to draw blood. I could hear screaming in the quite of my mind. It was mine. My silent screaming. That too became numbing, like the hum of white noise.

How could something have felt so right? So good? How could we have felt so assured? How could we have trusted in a feeling so completely? How could I have believed so completely and felt life inside of me and fell in love so quickly? How could we feel as if we'd witnessed a miracle only to have it ripped from our fingers so aggressively, so harshly, so destructively?

With this nimbus cloud encircling my spirit I struggled to put one foot in front of the other and into our church building. Jason and I sat in our usual spot, surrounded by our usual church family. We were early. Our friend sat in the pew in front of us and turned around, chatted with us as we waited for the meeting to start. I don't recall how or why he started to tell his story, but it fell upon me like a rush of air, like a wave crashing onto a parched, dry shore.
He was talking about his job (emergency planning manager for Los Angeles County public health/emergency department) and where he'd gone to graduate school (New Orleans, LA). "You know it was funny, neither of us wanted to go to Louisiana. We both hate humidity, we both don't like being too hot, we don't love barbecue or southern food. We couldn't believe it when we felt the prompting to go there for school. But it was so strong we knew we had to go, even if we didn't know why." It had felt so right and so clear and so good to them. Our friend and his wife packed up their new, little family and headed for Louisiana... then August 2005 came, as did Hurricane Katrina.
"The Lord didn't need me to go to grad–school in New Orleans. The Lord needed us to go through a hurricane."

The screaming in my head ceased. Silence. Some sort of understanding dawned, then deepened.

The Lord needed us to go through a hurricane.

It's funny how we, as humans, make all sorts of plans and time–lines for ourselves and our lives and our families. We map out exactly how we believe our lives should be and we feel so proud and sure of ourselves. And aren't we silly? We're not in charge here. Not really. God is over all. And what keeps me going, what keeps me hoping and believing and trusting, is knowing that He knows me. He knows me better than I know me. He loves me, better than I love me. I don't profess to know why things happen. I don't know why when we did IVF a third time last May we lost that sweet one too. I don't know! I wish I could, but maybe I don't get to yet. I know his plan for me has to be better than anything I could dream up for myself.
I have to believe this. I have to hang on to this. I have to know this truth.

He needed me to go through a hurricane. Ok. Done. Now what does He need me to do? Because I'm in. I'm all in.

I dreamt I held you in my arms

You Are My Sunshine // Elizabeth Mitchell

photo from March 2012—funny, how things change in a year. also, reminder to self to take more pictures of us—together.

Jason had his first test and his first proficiency this week (both of which he rocked like a boss) and I was reminded how student wife life is... and it's not so bad. Schedule and routine. These are things that we once took for granted, things we ached for this last year. I remember lying in bed trying to sleep and wishing to myself for one ordinary day—where no one talks about health, no one worries about breath, people just go about the routine, talk to neighbors, accomplish daily tasks. The idea of this seemed so out of reach at the time. It was a dream I dreamt before sleeping. I'm not sure if the worry will go away, it's something to work on, but all of the other pieces are there. In fact, yesterday was so ordinary I almost forgot to take notice. Almost. 

Living the dream in this one bedroom walk–up.

Today we jump on a plane back to North Carolina for Jason's six month bronchoscopy and full clinic appointment tomorrow. It will be a very busy Monday. We're hoping and praying for no rejection or antibodies or viruses or greasy bad guys hiding in the trees (there are a lot of trees in NC).

We're also hoping for some Pelican's SnoBalls—because they're the best darn snow cones we ever did see.

what it's all about really

"The story of Christmas is a story of love"  .   Henry B. Eyring

Of bringing light into a darkened world.

"Let us remember that He still lives and continues to be the light of the world"  .   Thomas S. Monson

(thank you Cassie for sharing this video with us)

fun fact: O Come, Emmanuel is Jason's favorite Christmas hymn

to be excited for

In the midst of the hospital and transplant fog there are some things that get lost or forgotten or put on the back–burner. Because we are so excited for the after–transplant chapter of our life we have compiled a list of adventures and everyday things we are so looking forward to.

Jas still has some more procedures to go (Nissen wrap and possibly another stomach procedure to help gastric emptying) and lots of recovering ahead of him. We spend a lot of time at Duke Clinic for appointments and labs and tests, and Jas has rehab at The Center for Living every day he isn't in the clinic.

We have a few more hills to climb, but all of this should lessen little by little over time and our lives should find some normalcy.

Our list, and in no particular order:

>> go on dates—like once a week
>> take a vacation/road trip
>> swim a lot
>> explore—enjoy where we're at
>> really celebrate holidays
>> sing
>> eat just like the average guy
>> go to the beach much more
>> visit Idaho
>> try invitro again*
>> ride bicycles at the beach
>> play basketball and frisbee and tennis and racquetball and catch
>> have a healthy, quiet, normal day
>> finish Optometry school

There is so much to be excited for.

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*After we got to North Carolina and into the program we spoke with multiple people and specialists about the making a baby factor. It turns out women cannot have a baby after transplant, but men still have the possibility. If all goes well and he recovers nicely, the sperm should not be affected by the anti-rejection meds. In our situation, having to go through invitro fertilization, they suggest we wait a year post transplant to try try again.

So the answer is not no. It's quite a few steps higher than maybe. It's a very hesitant yes.
And that gives us hope again and that makes us happy.

(i still squirm at words like sperm. so... sorry for that)

Journal Entry from May 13, 2011

"Today I got myself a screaming headache. The kind that puts you right down and kicks ya til you cry. It was awful. But Jas was really sincere and sweet; while he wished he was studying for his finals he rubbed my head and pretended he wasn't watching Jerseylicious.

And I loved him all over again.

As of right now his health has been on the mend. It's such a wonderful blessing—these times of good health. I don't think we will ever stop being grateful for times like this. No matter how short or long they might be.

But now I have to go because Jason is making me play best out of five in Farkle—because I smoked him last time (600 to 13,000) when we were doing best out of three."

........................................................

A little reminder to self to be so so grateful when everyone is happy and feeling good.

Happy Easter Sundee

I love Easter.

It means fresh flowers, colorful eggs, all things Cadbury and baskets full of everything good.... but above all that it's the day we celebrate the triumphant resurrection of our Savior.

He is Not Here, but Is Risen, President Thomas S. Monson

Happy happy happy happy Easter weekend everyone!!!!

I think I have stomach ulcers

This weekend was stressful. Actually, scratch that, this year has

been stressful. Pretty sure I've got some ulcers to prove it.

 Isn't it funny how we make ourselves believe that

after each hurdle then things can be happy and easy again.

"After finals, then I'll be happy."

"After I graduate, then I'll be happy."

"After we move..."

"After we get settled..."

"After I get over this cold..."

And then once in a while we decide to be happy right

now; right during the middle of all that hard, stressful

stuff. It totally cuts out the part with all of the waiting.

But sometimes being happy is a hard thing to do.

It can wear a person right out!

Sorry about this random, thoughtful little post.

I guess it's what ya get after an exhausting few days.

If it wasn't 6:30 I'd be crawling into bed.

I think I'll just cuddle up on the couch next to my bud.

p.s. the poll is closed and thank you to all who helped

me score some breakfast in bed! woop-dee-woop!!

I knew it was waaaaay better than plain old cheesy.


p.p.s Jason would like me to recognize him and his
mad photo skills in the above photograph.
he's gifted and talented.

I found this little lady

in some old from the carnival last year. For some reason I just love her.

I hope I'm the little lady dancing on the front row with my cowboy hat.

(I've got to get my hands on a Stetson!)

And because I've been getting questions about the status of my

pops (see full story here and last update here)

here is a little update (taken from my mom's post):

................................................................

We went to Dr. Richards office today, expecting to get both of the tubes left in

Jay's stomach removed, along with the staples that close the incision from his

chest down to his naval.  When Dr. Richards walked in the room, he did a

double take.  He said that he just couldn't believe that Jay had walked into his

office that day.  Dr. Richards left on vacation the day after Jay's surgery,

and when he got back and went to check on him in the ICU was surprised to

find that he had gone up to a normal room for 4 days and had gone home.

He totally expected Jay to be in the hospital for 12-14 weeks!

(good thing he never told me that)

He told us that he was the doctor the ER had called that night, after they

decided that he wasn't having heart failure and when he heard about Jay,

he knew he couldn't save him.  He called Dr. Hodson to do the repair on

the esophagus, and then he opened up the stomach area and put in two tubes,

one for feeding, one for draining and something else that I forgot.

 They worked together on much of the two surgeries.

 Anyway, after looking at Jay, he said, "The good Lord has given you

an extension. What are you going to do with it?"

 Jay couldn't even reply.  Me neither.

He took out the staples and the small tube.

The big one has to stay in for another month.

Right now, that just doesn't seem so bad.
Keep the faith!! 

................................................................

Pretty amazing—totally puts life into perspective.

Have a fabulous and safe weekend!

p.s. did you vote for Jason?

who pushed his mute button?

(photo from my San Fran trip)

somebody said that once about my dad. he doesn't do lots of talking, but he

listens like crazy. and he says "you can't learn anything while you're talking."

(which is totally true. that's probably why i'm a bit challenged.)

actually, i think my grandpa jack was the one who said that.

oh well.

my dad said it too.

anyway, yesterday my dad gave a beautiful talk at his sister, Linda's funeral.

one of my very favorite things he said was,

"isn't it funny how we spend the first half of our lives trying not to be

like our parents and the second half afraid that we won't?"

i would love to be like my parents.

maybe i should start practicing a little bit now.

and p.s. if anyone on the bachelorette says "taking it to the next level"

or "guard and protect your heart" or basically anything about a "heart"
one more time i'm suing the whole show! or maybe i'll just throw up.

house plants + babies

house plants hate me.

in our first apartment the peeps who lived there before us (curtis + jennie) left some of their homey items: dresser, a mammoth desk, table/chairs, and a house plant. i'm not sure what kind of plant it was. i guess it was one of those unkillable ones because i swore it was dead on several occasions. i water them. i put them in windows. i put them away from windows. i might water them too much, that might be an issue. somehow that plant survived its 3 months of terror with me. i was pretty proud of it.

anyway, what i'm really getting to is my lovely valentine orchid plant. killed it. had to throw it out on wednesday.

i can't keep a house plant alive. if i was a recovering alcoholic in the steps program i think i would be told i couldn't have any pets, or a relationship, or children.

people ask me about children. like when i'll be popping out a baby of our own.

this is what i (sometimes don't) say:

maybe someday.

maybe after i'm done with school.

maybe when we have more funds.

maybe when i feel brave.

maybe when we feel like it's right.

maybe when i feel a little (big) nudge from my Father in Heaven who knows the time for everything.

maybe after another house plant.

but definitely someday.

i'm very excited for someday.

as for today i'm eating doritos for breakfast. we have no milk. or anything. i guess i'll go to the store. dang.

A little story about a tree, a flower, and a little old man.

Jason and I were walking outside and saw the lovely little buds to greet us! I was taking pictures, Jason was helping, and then we saw something kind of interesting.

There was a little old man with white hair and a cardigan over his collared plaid shirt. He walked alone under the trees. He stopped for a moment, tilted his head upwards and took a moment to breath in the blossoms. The sun danced on his rosy cheeks, he leaned on his cane. He would take a few steps and do it again and again. There was no hurry. There were no worries. There was only the little man simply enjoying the blossom-filled air.

Why don't I do that a little more often? The trees bud. The trees bloom. The leaves turn. Trying to make us happy.

And sometimes nobody notices.