Living through Death

A guest blog:

I will never forget this day one year ago. I will never forget that sinking feeling when multiple phone calls went unanswered. I will never forget the moment my worst fear was confirmed. It was a literal gut wrenching, bring you to your knees, absolutely horrible feeling. It was his birthday. We were supposed to celebrate later that evening. The next few days brought so much pain. Decisions had to be made, papers signed, and legal matters handled. The hardest was the final goodbye. It was very difficult to let go. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It took all the literal physical and emotional strength I had to walk out of that room. That is a day I want to forget. Three days prior to his death, we had Judah's second birthday party. Had I known it would be the last time I ever spoke to or saw my dad again I would have cherished that moment longer. I would have talked more to him. I would have hugged him a little longer. I would have been less concerned with cleaning my house and more concerned with listening to what he had to say. He had to get home before it rained. He always said he couldn't see to drive in the rain. Losing a parent is hard, especially when it's unexpected. Life changed dramatically one year ago today. I changed dramatically. This has been one of the most tumultuous years of my life. There have been many good times this year but there have also been many dark times. It's part of grief. It's part of healing and dealing with emotions that can't be put into words. I started a new job. I made new friends this year. I deepened some friendships but, unfortunately, I've also lost some friendships. I've turned to God and I've also turned from God. I renewed my passion for missions. I've searched for happiness and anything that would take away the pain. My family has been through it this year in more ways than most people know. The people that have stood beside us through it all will never fully grasp the magnitude of my appreciation. These are the people that have been there from the moment they got the phone call to the present time. They have supported us through the tears, the anger, and the long, hard conversations. You see, grief doesn't immediately disappear after the funeral. It's a process that takes much longer and I believe everyone deals with it differently and in different stages. Some people deal with it faster than others and some don't deal with it at all. The funeral is still a state of shock and a disconnection with reality. It's making small talk with people you haven't seen in a while that come to pay their respects. People ask how you're doing and you give the standard "ok" reply. People tell you that you are being so strong like it's a complement. Being "strong" is only a temporary state that occurs in order to avoid dealing with emotions. Eventually everything will come at you like a freight train. It's actually the weeks and months after the funeral that are the hardest as reality sets in. It's adjusting to your new life without your loved one and also accepting the change that occurs within yourself. Most people avoid the subject with the grieved. They think bringing it up will cause negative emotions. Pretending it never happened is the worst anyone can do to help someone through grief. Ask someone weeks and months down the road how they are doing. Check up on them because I guarantee they are still hurting. Talking about it is part of the healing but the grieved doesn't want to feel like they are being Debbie Downers by mentioning the subject to friends and family. One of the most prominent lessons I've learned from my dad's death is to love and love hard, even if that means rejection and disappointment are in the future. In his own way, he loved us with everything he had. Loving others is a central Biblical theme and one Jesus speaks about often. It's often said but there is a blatant truth in "life is short." It's too short to hold grudges and too short to hate one another. People are the way they are for a reason. Get to know people and you will realize their life's events have shaped the core of who they are. People are hurting and people want to be loved. We were created to love and be loved. Some are more readily accepting than others but that doesn't mean give up on them. I believe loving someone consists of accepting them through the good times and the bad. It means that you are willing to accept them regardless of how screwed up they may or may not be. It means you will be there for them during the tough, vulnerable times of their life. I'm so thankful I've had people stick with me this year. While this has been a tough year I try to look forward and hang on to the memories of my dad. Even a year later there are times I start to pick up the phone to call him. There are so many things I want to tell him. He would love to know he was getting another grandchild. He loved his grandchildren so much. He would be so proud of Xander playing baseball and doing well in school. He would laugh at the endless adventures Judah finds. Harper's precious dancing and singing performances would make him smile big time. He would be proud of Carim making huge improvements in school. He also never hesitated to tell me how proud he was of Matt, Jenna, John, and myself. While there are many things I doubt in life, one constant truth remains that he loved me very much. Even at 32 I was still his baby girl. I miss him every day. I tell stories of him to my boys so they won't forget him. I tell them how much he loved them. Though they didn't have him long, he will always be their Grandad. I'm thankful for the 32 years I had with him. I'm thankful for everything he taught me. I'm thankful he loved Matt and I so much. I'm thankful he was my Dad. If my life wasn't changed by his death then I wasn't affected by his life. He was the best Dad I could have wanted. I will always love him. He is my Dad.

Clinging

           Clinging. Latching on. Attached. Grasping. Adhered.

      My children have started over the past six months to be extremely clingy to me. I am guessing it is because I am home more now with them. But, I'm not going to lie, I kinda like it...that is unless they are whining, crying, screaming, yelling, or fussing while doing it - which they usually are. But then, there are those moments they cling to my side just because they want to hold me or touch me or be comforted. The moments they cling onto me on the couch as we watch "trains" or Mickey Mouse. Or when we are just outside and they need reassurance I am there and paying attention...they cling to my hand.

     Clinging can be such a sweet thing and it warms my heart that being near me, attached to me, is what brings security and comfort to my boys. You feel them relax a little and not be so tense. The crying/whining/fussing usually stops and there ends up being a sweet moment. The boys like for me to hold them as we go down the stairs first thing in the morning. Yes, it is quite an arm workout and balancing act since they have gotten heavy, but they cling to me as we walk down those stairs. Arms and legs wrapped around me on both sides. Knowing that as long as they do that they will be okay.

      So, yesterday I started thinking about this clinging. It was like a whole new perspective came over my eyes. We are told so many times in life to "cling to the cross" and verses throughout the Old Testament state to "cling to God." How often do I wrap my arms and legs around my Father and hold on for dear life? Not letting go for the life of me because I know He can carry me through? I associate this clinging from my boys with how much they love me and desire to be with me and trust me to comfort and care and take care of them. There is a trust there. Do we exude the same emotions towards God? Believing that Him holding us will walk us through it all and all we need to do is cling, attach, adhere, grasp for Him. Do we show Him we love Him by doing this?

       I don't believe we are supposed to only cling to God in bad or scary situations. Just like my boys cling to me when we are watching a show, we are to cling to God in the every day situations too. Just hanging out, clinging to our Savior. It is heartwarming He even wants that type of a relationship with us.

     So, I ask you, do you cling to your Savior? In uncomfortable times and comfortable ones? Did you know you have the option of having that relationship with Jesus? Where it isn't just turning your life over and following rules and trying to be good but ACTUALLY clinging to Him and having such a sweet connection with Him? It's so neat to see through my relationship with my children a new understanding of the relationship God/Jesus wants with me (and has always wanted but I didn't understand). Cling to Jesus.

My Mouth

        My mouth has been an integral part of my identity. It started when I was young. Everyone commented on my pretty smile and how it lit up a room. I found pride in that smile. It made me smile more, subconsciously, and I was glad to be able to share it with the world. There was always someone complimenting me on my smile or my straight teeth (after braces) or just how contagious my smile was. It brought smiles to other people, ease for conversations, and out of that mouth brought words of encouragement.

       Out of my mouth was laughter. Something that was frequently surrounding me. A lot of people consider it a loud laugh, but it was a laugh, none the less. My laugh and my mouth brought other people laughs and happy times.

       But see, there was more than just that. Because though I had such pride in my smile and my mouth, there was another side. A side that struggled. My mouth was perverse. My mouth was hurtful. My mouth was untamed.

       I can only imagine this started as a toddler as I screamed the word "NO!" to my parents or anyone passing by. It then grew into hurtful words of slandering my sister, that grew into slandering my parents, and slandering friends. My mouth voiced opinions of hurtful disdain when I didn't get my way. It screamed at my mother and father, "I hate you!" and other things that I am not proud of. It was/is quick to fire back when I was/am hurt. My mouth turned from a point of joy to a point of pure hurt.

       See, words are my defense. And that isn't a good thing. God speaks on the tongue and our mouth several times:

Ephesians 4:29 - Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.

Proverbs 15:1 - A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.

James 1:26 - If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless.

Matthew 12:33-37 - “Either make the tree good and its fruit good, or make the tree bad and its fruit bad, for the tree is known by its fruit. You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak, for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”

Titus 3:2 - To speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show perfect courtesy toward all people.

Colossians 3:7-8 - In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.

James 3:8 “But no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison

Proverbs 18:21 “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.”

1 Peter 3:10 “Whoever desires to love life and see good days, let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking deceit.”


    So, I read on the tongue and the mouth and words more than anything else, probably. And it convicts me more than anything. And I freak out about my mouth more than anything. I pray and ask repentance over this probably more than anything else! It is my vice. 

    See, I am good at being quick with my tongue and not having it controlled. It is a practice that I try to control over and over - when my in-laws hurt me/us, when my step-children hurt my husband and myself, when my mother or father get on my last nerve (because even though we are far better than we were years ago it still happens), when someone hurts someone I love I am quick to respond - try going after my husband or my sons - I sadly will take you down. It is the thing that everyone can hold against me - though it is mainly because I want good in the end or a positive change. I know how to hurt. I know how to hurt you because you hurt me and words hurt deeper than anything physical to me.  BUT, how is this what God calls me to do? It isn't. 

    

   Therefore, I pray. I ask forgiveness. I read God's words on the mouth and tongue. And I struggle. I try to show love. I try to control my tongue and I try to let my smile be the thing that I can spread. Not hurtful words. 

    That being said, I ask you to look at yourself. Are you good at lifting people up? How about talking about people or what they have done to hurt you or others? Tearing people down? What are you known for? What are your conversations about? I can tell you all of these I am guilty of. But, I am called for something greater. Something I pray for God to give me the strength to strive above. And that is what I pray for all of you. 

Death

Death.

      We've all heard of it. It's on the news. It's personal. It's our family member's passing. It is a friend passing. It is a dream dying. A realization of something no longer existing.

       Death comes in various forms. I've always been a little morbid in thinking of death often. I don't know whether it is because I am in the line of work I am in and can think of situations that can happen way too quickly to kill someone or it is just me. But, it is a part of all of our lives. Lately, I have seen a best friend from college's father die (way too young), young lives tragically ended too early through freak accidents, and then, of course, these acts of terror that seem more and more frequent. It is one thing that I am actually scared of. I know that we shouldn't be, as Christians, because we know what awaits us, BUT, I selfishly don't want anyone around me to be gone or to be gone myself. It's a hard realization to see it happen and to see how finite each life is. I just hope that we all hug a little tighter and love a little more knowing and being reminded of this fact. Death is VERY REAL and comes unexpectedly and way too soon for us all.

     Death in the realization of reality has hit me hard lately, too. When we got pregnant with the boys, we used our last two frozen embryos. We knew at that point that we were most likely done with children and had a peace about it. But, the dream was still alive that we could have more. We have had frozen sperm still available if we wanted to start over in the IVF process. Well, to keep that, we have to pay for it to be stored. And we have paid over the past two years. We know the piece of paper that tells us our "lease" is up comes in May and we have to make the decision by July 1 on whether or not to keep or destroy our goods. We have prayerfully gone forward with storing these past years and prayerfully considered it this year. Alan and I had to have some hard discussions this year as that piece of paper showed up. We both knew that we most likely wouldn't start over in our journey of IVF - mostly because it is costly and we don't want to risk having an abundance of embryos because we would not destroy any of them. So, the decision was made that we would no longer store our frozen goods.

      This has been a hard reality for me. A death of sorts. I am so happy with my two little spunky boys. They are a handful and when I am around babies I know that it would be difficult to handle more. BUT, the dream and option was still there. This puts a pretty finite end to our reproducing and the end of our biological family. It is a very hard decision for us both. We have a peace about it and believe it is what is right for our family, but that does not make the decision any easier. There are up days and down days. But in it all, I know God is good and He has planned our family perfectly. AND, we can always adopt or foster. But, our journey in this infertility world, is now over.

      Infertility is a life long struggle. Even after having the blessings of children, seeing others accidentally or easily getting pregnant can continue to play with your psyche. People asking if you are having more children is still painful. So, I ask you take that into consideration of people before you ask these questions or flaunt how easy it is for you to get pregnant.

    In life, we know all things are for purpose. We know that our journey in infertility was for a purpose of growth not only for us, but for others. We know that when a horrific death happens, it is for a purpose far greater than we can expect. There is purpose in our loved ones passing, though it is more painful and hard to see good in than we could ever imagine.

     I challenge you to be there for those who are going through a death. No matter what that death may be. Physical. Emotional. I, also, challenge those of you who do not have a personal relationship with God to seek this out. It is the most important choice you can make. It has been the ONLY way I have been able to survive my life and be sustained in knowing the good that prevails. He gives us a peace that surpasses all understanding in ALL things and is ALWAYS there for us. Not expecting perfection, but a relationship.

    So, as I end my blog journey of infertility, I look forward to the next journey He has me on. Still running towards the prize.

Community

What does COMMUNITY mean to you?

      I think in our generation, the meaning of this word has become lost in a lot of ways. Through technology and social media, our ideas of community have changed. It has broadened our "community" online, but what has happened to community in the "Real World."


      After having a meal with a friend this past week, it was confirmed that this is not an issue I only face here in Nashville, but that several suffer within other places. And honestly, I think it is a time for reform. We have become a society who is very focused on our phones, social media accounts, and employment that the reality of community with your neighbors and those close to you has taken a beating.


     I was a nomad (in all sense of the word) growing up. We moved around every 3-4 years and were always in different schools. However, I ALWAYS remember my parents making quick friends, developing meaningful relationships, having people over to the house or vice versa, and these relationships are still ongoing though we haven't lived in those cities for years. Those friendships have developed me to have family all over to visit. I continue to move a lot in my adult life and long for the friendships my parents had/have. But, for some reason, developing actual friendships is so much harder now.


     When I moved to Nashville, I was excited to move to this town and start a life here with my husband. We became involved with our church and both of our jobs. When a year had gone by without developing friendships that were meaningful, I chalked it up to Alan's traveling schedule and my work schedule. Give it another year. As the time has passed, it seems as though being more involved in things and invitations extended does not get you far in these developments. Repeated invitations were either declined or some excuse would appear at the last minute. Is it me or is there a deeper issue? I tend to believe a deeper rooted issue.


      My social media life, I would say, is very full. I have a lot of "friends" and keep up with them pretty well. I post pictures of my life and people like them. That's what friends do, right? We comment back and forth and keep up to date on each other's lives. It's all quite easy and we can text or message or e-mail someone when we need something. I would say it is a pretty fulfilling social life, in that aspect, and I am sure every one of you can say the same. BUT, when is the last time you dug deeper?


      When was the last time you invited someone to do something? Dinner over, lunch, movie, play dates, etc? When was the last time you accepted an invitation from someone? When was the last time you invited someone new to your neighborhood/church/social circle to do something so you could get to know them better....instead of befriending them on Facebook? How long has it been since you invited someone to do something other than an event at church or small group, just to be able to dig deeper with that person? When was the last time you INVESTED in a person outside of the four walls of your house?


       I feel like all of these things are being thrown by the wayside as we can "learn" a person through their social media accounts, which is often superficial. I believe the phenomena of social media has decreased our concern for those around us and decreased the relationships God intended us to have, as humans. We can so easily voice our opinions, learn just what we want about people, make and break plans without hearing a disappointed voice on the other end, and live a virtual life. I believe that we are lacking in what God meant most for us and are therefore shorting ourselves of the pleasures we can obtain from community.


       Life is hard. It is even harder when you are facing it alone in a world full of people. These personal relationships that dig deeper are what we all need and what God meant for us to have. It's easy to go to church events or social events and see people, make simple conversations, and go home, but we are wired for deeper relationships. So many of us struggle from similar things yet feel isolated in this world because our superficial relationships make everyone else's life seem wonderful. We need to go through life with people where we can share the struggles and the good times.


    So, this all being said, I challenge you. I challenge you to invite someone to get deeper. I challenge you to become vulnerable and take a chance on a deeper relationship with someone. I challenge you to invite a new family to dinner or sit down with someone you met at an event one on one. I challenge you to not use social media as your social event of the day, but make it be with a neighbor or someone from work or from some other event. Let's return this world to how it's supposed to be. Because we can all face the world when it is done in community.

So, when's the next one?

     It's a question everyone asks.....after you get married, it's when's a baby coming? This question was always hard for me to hear because I didn't know the answer to that, or even if that was a possibility. Once we had the boys, I thought, I'm good. People would ask me if we wanted anymore and my thought was, "God has blessed us with these two and we are done." I was at piece with that. Now that the boys are getting older, a lot more people ask - "So, when is the next one?" "Are you wanting anymore?" "Aren't you going to try for a girl?" And, seeing a lot of my friends be pregnant and get pregnant and having babies, it has made it hard for me to answer.


      I wish I could just say, well, we are trying and if it happens it happens. But, life isn't that easy for us to have a baby. I won't lie. There are times now that I long for another baby. It is a desire. But, it isn't that easy. How would we make this happen? Do another round of in vitro? We would have to start all over since we don't have any more embryos and that is a lot of money and a chance for multiple embryos that I am not okay with not using. There is the option to adopt, but we haven't truly felt led to do this. Foster care is an option, too, but we are unsure of this option, as well. Then, it is the thought of truly being finished with children. We have four and we are aging and should we just be content?


      "When is the next one?" "You need a girl?" - pains to my heart and stinging takes place. Something I thought I was over once I had the boys. Infertility sucks. That's all I have to say. And even when you beat the odds and have a successful birth through infertility, it still isn't fun to know you are through. I still have secret hopes a miracle will happen like it does to others and we will be surprised with a miraculous pregnancy. But, the realistic person in me knows that isn't the case.


     This all being said, be careful when asking people when they are going to have a child or when they will have the next. You don't know their struggles. Even if they do have children, there may have been hardships in that. So in all, be sensitive to one another. Especially if you know they have had hardships and just rejoice in what is present instead of focusing on what is ahead.

Post Partum Depression - My Story

        I don't know anyone who went through post partum depression, that I know of anyway. But then again, I have never asked someone if they are struggling or maybe even paid attention enough to pick up on it. It's kind of a cliché in our society. We see the mother's harm their children in our world and think "How could they do that?" But, we never truly talk about it and it is something that strong, good mothers don't suffer with, right? WRONG. This is my story.

       When I went in for my 6 weeks post-partum visit, my doctor asked me how I was feeling. I burst into tears and said "I think I am having baby blues. I cry all of the time and don't feel like I am bonding with the babies." At this point the babies had only been home from the hospital 2 weeks. She looked at me and said, "It's over two weeks, so the blues are gone and post-partum depression is what you have." She then began to ask me if I had digested and truly had it "hit me" what all I had experienced with the pregnancy, birthing process, and babies in the NICU. Of course my answer was "No." I mean, I was a new mom with twins and a rigorous schedule....who has time to process! She told me it was going to hit me one day and it was going to be rough. After discussion, she put me on an anti-depressant and wanted to see me back in a month.

      That was the beginning of my journey with post-partum depression. I thought of work, I cried; I thought of leaving the house, I cried; I wasn't as bonded with my babies as I thought I would be, I cried; they would cry and my heart wouldn't break like Alan's and my mom's, I felt like an awful mother, I cried. I was exhausted, not where or how I wanted to be as a mother, hormonal, and had yet to even process the past 3 months of my life. Overwhelmed and didn't know where to turn.

       I started on the anti-depressant and waited the two weeks for it to kick in. I didn't like the side effects, though I was starting to feel better, so I quit the medication, thinking I could handle this. I'm a strong person and stubborn. I've got this. I had my follow up and talked with my OB that I thought I was doing better, still not having processed anything. So, life went on......I kept myself busy between baby duty, housework, work, etc. I was/am really good at smiling and doing the southern answer of "everything is going really well." Knowing deep in my heart that I was building up so many struggles.

       Dr. Tony Harbin, the OB/GYN in Dalton and a close friend of mine, once said, "Every person has a coffee cup. Some are bigger than others, but life is like pouring coffee into that cup continuously. Eventually, that cup is going to overfill and you are going to have to have help." I tell this to patients all the time who feel bad that they are having hardships in life. And, it honestly brought me comfort.

       Over the next few months, life got busier as I went back to work. I had a very hard time leaving the boys just knowing I wasn't there for them and my desire to be a stay at home mom wasn't a reality. It sunk me deeper in. Then, I had some hardships with people not understanding that I cannot/could not be on my best game every day. It's hard to put forth the energy of being chipper when honestly, all I wanted was to be in solitude. Being in a city with none of my family brought even bigger sorrows (even though my mom is always up here, I miss not having my dad and her down the road to just stop by). Because of my consumption with work prior to babies, I hadn't made any friends in Nashville, so being able to call up a friend and go out for a night wasn't an option. Then add on the stress of being in a blended family, family drama (which we all have), and the struggle of hardly seeing my husband due to travels and work schedules. (None of this is intended for complaining because I am truly blessed, but it is my story and it adds up.) Life seemed to be getting more difficult and more difficult.

      About 5 months ago, things started becoming more than overwhelming, again. I was crying at the drop of a hat at about anything. I could fly off the handle at the smallest inconvenience or disagreement. It only grew worse and my usual social self became quite reclusive and I began becoming really shy. I wanted to be all alone, but I wanted to have people care and friends to interact with. I had no energy and no desire to do anything. I then, began having panic and anxiety attacks. I had never had these before in my life. It scared me. I was terrified and terrified this was happening to me. I couldn't even go into a church event without freaking out and having an anxiety attack and want to turn around and go home. I don't know who I had become. And, at about this time, since I had so many days alone at home, it hit me. Every emotion, physical symptom, stress, reality of twin pregnancy, bed rest, multiple complications from delivery and health complications of myself, NICU babies, twins, etc. hit me. I ran into this wall and I could no longer keep my head above water. I was literally drowning in emotions. All of the "processing" was happening. Hopeless and helpless.

         My support system became very concerned and finally Alan put his foot down. He told me it was time to go back to the doctor and get some help. I resisted. I'm proud of myself for being a strong person who can handle anything. I didn't want to appear weak, unable to handle life, or even a complainer. But, we both knew it was deeper than that. And, I realized in moments of prayer and reflection that it is a bigger thing for me to get help then to keep drowning in my attempts to stay strong.

        About this time, I had the opportunity to join a mom's group at church. Now, it wasn't easy, but I was excited. That is when one of my anxiety attacks hit and I literally said to the babies when walking in, what are we doing here? Let's go home. I had tears in my eyes and could hardly breathe walking in. Since when did I get social anxiety? This semester, the series Bible study is called a Beautiful Mess. And man, does God know how to talk directly to me when I am in need of Him most. It was speaking (and is continuing to speak) directly to me. It was like all of my thoughts and concerns were told and the authors wrote to them. A crack in the isolation. God knows what I need. Other women feel like me, some days hopeless, insufficient, unworthy, a mess. He seems to always lead me to the Bible and scripture or a Bible study I need, just at the right time.

       I finally gave in and was seen by my family medicine doctor. She sees the boys and Alan and myself, so has been able to follow us over the past few years. She was encouraging to me. She reassured me that I am not weak but oh so strong to be able to parent twin boys and hold a full-time job. We talked and discussed and decided it was best at this point to start on a different anti-depressant without so many side effects. At this point, this is what I need to help and I am not ashamed.....or at least I hope I am not since I am sharing this with the world.

      What I have realized is, it is okay to receive help. It is okay to ask and say I need you. It is okay to not be able to do or handle everything and every situation (I am remembering my post when I was pregnant regarding help during bed rest). We all need support and being a mother is no different. So, if you are struggling from post-partum depression, I encourage you to receive the help you need.