Not So Grateful

Of all the changes that take place when you’re first married, there was one I loved the most. Sleeping together. Before you think this is some crude post, I’ll elaborate. There was something about not having to say “goodbye” at night. Remember those days when you wanted to spend every single moment together, and any moments apart felt like forever? That is what I loved about being able to sleep together. Brandon and I fell asleep and as soon as the next day became new, before we even opened our eyes, we were together. Sounds like mushy newlywed stuff, but I think I’m even more grateful for it today, because there are some days it’s the only time we spend together. We may be asleep, but hey, we’re together.

Those early days of marriage were when I began expressing how grateful I was to be alive.

I’d say to Brandon, “I’m so grateful the Lord allowed me to live so I could be your wife.”

Again, it may sound so mushy that it’s almost nauseating. But I spoke it from a heart who had questioned God so many times why He let me live. Honestly, from a heart who had once felt upset that He let me live. The road of recovery, both physically and emotionally, was unbearable at times. So unbearable that I would have rather not walked it. At least that’s what I thought when I was on the journey.

The gratitude has grown over the years from wife, to wife and mom.

A Facebook comment stirred it up recently for me. One of my doctors who cared for me after my burn injury commented on my daughter’s pictures from her freshman formal. I replied, “Dr. Kramer—thank you for doing what you do, so I could do this. I’m so grateful I got to live to be her mom.”

But I probably should’ve added “today.” “I’m so grateful I got to live to be her mom today.” Because friends, let me tell you there have been some days I’ve questioned it. There have been some days that I’ve allowed my thoughts to consider how much better, how much happier and how much more peaceful my family would be if someone else were performing the wife and the mom role in this family.

In fact, I was having some of those thoughts the day before my birthday.

This is what I journaled,

3/22—At the end of my life- or now for that matter- is anyone going to feel benefitted by the life I was able to live? Will anyone feel blessed or grateful that I didn’t die at 7-- that my life was spared? Or will they just feel happy it is over?

Why, oh why would I share something so raw with you? Well, because perhaps you’ve allowed your thoughts to go down a similar negative route.

And why, oh why would I have even thought such things? Had there been a problem? Had there been an emotional explosion in our home? Well, no, not this time.

First of all, I do hope my life is one lived to give and to bless others.  But also, I was feeling a little down, okay, well, maybe considering my journal entry I was feeling downright down, about my birthday. And downright down about myself.

It’s been a challenging year. I’ve wanted to run away from home on more than one occasion. I think we all have. If not, stop reading and start praying for mamas like me.  I mean who wouldn’t prefer a nice cool drink on a nice warm beach over the responsibilities and obstacles of raising your people at times? It’s not all puppy dogs and rainbows everyday in The Meadows Home, or in any home for that matter.

So how do we combat the negative thoughts? How can we find gratitude in a trial?

#1— remember what is true from what is emotion. We have to guard our hearts from the disease of negative emotion. Getting caught up in the emotion clouds what is true. Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

#2—remember there is a reason we were given an armor. We can’t forget that we are in a battle, which is why we have armor. We’ve got to make sure we have it on to combat the attacks- whether they’re external or internal. Ephesians 6:14-17 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

This story isn’t over, but as usual, in my posts and in my life, I’ve exceeded my word limit. I hope you come back for the next post so I can share with you a great story about loving one another.

For now, may you feel a little encouraged to know you’re not the only one who lets negative thoughts run loose at times. May you feel gratitude knowing God is with you and loves you, whether you’re standing in the battle or sitting on the beach.

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Crummy Mom

We had barely departed the experience, the fruition of obedience to God’s calling, when the clouds started rolling, the thunder started rumbling, the lightning hit and the rain poured. Our drive into Boston should have been one of elation and rejoicing, however, we quickly ran into a storm, a storm that started brewing long before we began our trip. No, I’m not speaking of a literal storm. I’m speaking figuratively. I wish we could have pulled under a bridge and wait for it to pass by. I wish we could have stepped into a closet and hid from the winds. Or even better, I wish we could have locked ourselves in our safe room and shut it out entirely. But we all know the storms of life are endured, not avoided. I read several years ago that trees send their roots down deeper due to the storms they withstand. No storms mean a shallow root system. Now I’m no arborist, but I get the illustration, and I don’t want to be shallow or weak, I want to go down deep and be strong. Nevertheless, the storms are unpleasant, unpeaceful, and at times, down right scary.

The storm’s intensity grew when I broke, exposing the darkness that surrounded us. I felt safe, I felt secure, and even more than that, I felt desperate for help. I literally broke, crying uncontrollably and sharing not only my defeat, but pronouncing my shortcomings.

For someone who lives as an open book, it’s imprisoning to hold in my burdens, to retain my brokenness. Burying and hiding are not natural for me. It takes effort. It takes determination. And while I see that sometimes it is necessary, it feels phony. We need a safety net when we are falling. Unfortunately, with the people I would have not wanted to have boundaries with, I should have had boundaries. The integrity and character of our home came under fire. And isn’t that the way the enemy attacks? So sly and creepy, using one attack to generate another.

The point is, if we lay everything out on the table, we’re providing the revelation of our failures. We all have them, and we provide for many more failures when we become parents. If you haven’t failed your children yet, wait, because you will.

You’re probably thinking something like, “Great. So glad I’m reading this today. Nothing like having someone tell me I’m going to fail at the most important role I will ever have!” Or you may be tempted to minimize those failures as you reflect back on your days of raising children. Pause with me please, and join me in asking the Lord to humble us and remove a pride He cannot honor.

Let’s remind ourselves that we all fall short. We are parenting in our humanity. And our humanity is fallen.   John and Stasi Eldredge inform us in their book Captivating, “But Adam fell, as did Eve, and the fathers and mothers most of us had continued the sad story. They did not provide the things our hearts needed in order to become lovely, vulnerable, strong, adventurous women.”

Honestly, it’s a thought that never crossed my mind when I was welcoming my precious children into the world. “I’m going to fail this perfect little person. I’m going to wound their heart.”

I was prepared to give away my heart, but not to wound theirs. Big chunks were removed with every baby born. Jaron’s birth brought about our first NICU experience. The team whisked him away from me on the eve of Christmas Eve. I was discharged the next day and felt my heart in two places, neither of which was inside my chest. I was torn to be home with my sweet little girl and to be with my new precious and sick baby boy. It was just the beginning, just the beginning of my heart existing outside my body no longer secure and protected within myself.

“You cannot be alive very long without being wounded,” the Eldredges write. “Broken hearts cannot long be avoided in this beautiful yet dangerous world we live in.” “This is not Eden. Not even close. We are not living in the world our souls were made for.”

As I was caring for my own Mom recovering from an orthopedic surgery this summer, I gave her medication to manage her pain. Some are big pills, hard to swallow. And some of these words are hard to swallow, but can manage the pain of our wounded hearts. Through her own journey, Stasi Eldredge writes, “Yes, she [her mother] failed me. All mothers fail their children to varying degrees. But she also loved me. That was what was most true.”

Every wave and bump, even the wash outs and pot holes, messages are sent, imperfections are highlighted and wounds are created. We hurt our children and our children hurt us. Ephesians 6:12 tells us where the battle comes from, “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.”

And as mothers, we battle. In our flesh, in our humanity, in our fallen, imperfect state, we battle.

“Women are called to join in the Greatest Battle of all time- the battle being waged for the hearts of those around us.” -Captivated

As long as I’m breathing I will go to battle for my children to have God’s best in their life. It is raw, it is real, and it is humbling to recognize our imperfections, and to encourage our children to take what we’ve given them as parents and to be better, to make improvements and be better parents for their children. No blame, no bitterness, but better. Humbling ourselves in believing and battling for God’s best.

So why would I write a post to share about being a crummy mom? Because at times, you feel crummy too. In those times, in those dark moments, and in those attacks, don’t allow the enemy to defeat you, even if he’s using people you love in the attack. Filter through. Sift it out before the Lord. Only He truly knows your heart.

I’m walking in steps of obedience to God’s calling. There is no attack that could possibly stop me than one upon my family, one upon my home. So here it is. The storm. Here I am. Not giving up. Battling the attack, because I know God will prevail. His Plan will succeed. Good will come, a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up (Galatians 6:9).

Through this storm I praise Him and I pray He uses it to encourage you.

“But we don’t wait to offer our lives until we have our acts together. We don’t get that luxury. If we did, would anyone ever feel like offering anything? God asks us to be vulnerable. He invites us to share and give in our weaknesses. He wants us to offer the beauty that He has given us even when we are keenly aware that it is not all that we wish it were. He wants us to trust him.”- Captivating

Psalm 34:5

Those who look to Him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.

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Have you ever struggled with the feeling of not being good enough?  Has someone taken a highlighter to your shortcomings or magnified your failures?

God's design for women includes a longing for intimacy and adventure with Him, to gain an understanding of how He sees each of us, and to develop a closer relationship with Him.

Please join me, along with the women of my community as we rediscover the joy of belonging to God with a heart that is awakened and restored… a heart in full bloom.

Throughout the weekend you will experience teaching sessions, including testimonies, films, guided periods of personal reflection and worship.

This weekend is based on the book Captivating by John and Stasi Eldredge

The In Between

I’ve heard it my entire life…. “The older you get the faster time passes.” Who can testify to the truth of that statement? But I have just a small stipulation to add —the older your kids get the faster time passes.

I’m just not ready to lay claim to aging. I mean I’m only thirty-four. Regardless, life is on fast forward (or that button you hit on your DVR remote to skip forward ten seconds at a time). I mean, didn’t we just have Christmas? We’ve already made it more than halfway through 2015 and our children are headed back-to-school!

Let me confess, this school year was more difficult than ones before. At the conclusion of the 2014-2015 school year, we stood in the kitchen, all six of us shuffling around one another as we unloaded the dishwasher, filled it again, and dished up our evening dinner. In an effort to digest the fact that our baby wasn’t a baby anymore, I posed a question to my husband, “Babe, can you believe we have a kindergartener in our house now?! Not a PreKer, but a kindergartner?!” Our daughter interjected, “And a high schooler.” I corrected, “No. No. We don’t have a high schooler,” incredibly serious, as there was no way we ourselves were old enough to have a child in high school. She insisted, “Yes, Mom. I’m going to be a freshman. That’s high school.” [Insert mom’s heart sinking into my lower intestine here.]

You see, I longed for and desired my children since I was a child. I vividly remember lying in my intensive care unit bed thinking about my future. Before our accident I frequented my Grandma’s dining room and draped her lace curtains over my face pretending to get married. An eighty-seven percent burn injury makes marriage seem like even more of a fantasy to a small child. So when this story started trending toward the fairytale I had abandoned so many years before, my desire for the children I thought I’d never have escalated.

I was more than ready to become a mom when my little Brooklyn Nicole arrived on the scene three weeks before my twentieth birthday. I felt like I had waited for her my entire life, and the first true breath that had ever fully filled my lungs was the one I took in of her and her precious life. I breathed even deeper with the arrival of my baby boys, Jaron Michael, Caden Robert and Gavin Lee.

Being their mom is and has been the most meaningful moments of my life.

And that’s where we want to put things in slow motion, but rather than having the amenity of slowing things down, it only passes all the more quickly when they arrive. Most of the time, we’re juggling the day’s duties, and before we know it we’re into the next. Rarely do we experience a full night’s rest after the birth of our children, and I’m not just referring to the season that they’re little. No, they grow as we tackle everything with them in the daylight hours. Then in the night, in the quiet stillness while they sleep, we continue on. But we acclimate, don’t we? We adjust to late nights and early mornings until it becomes normal. It is there I ask myself, “Man. If it went this fast, how fast would it have gone if I would have slept?” [We’re making inserts into this post—so insert a winky face here].

Well, I assume it would have passed all the more quickly. So here we are, in a brand new season. For the first time in fourteen and a half years, all of my children are in school all day. That’s enough to bring a tear, isn’t it? I hope so, because I’m telling you, I didn’t think I’d really cry on the outside, maybe feel it a little in my heart, but no, I totally did. I barely got out the door. I mall-walked it to my car after dropping off the last child. I’m not talking a little teary-eyed either. No, I’m talking lip-quivering kind of crying. Who would have thought?! Not me. There are times I even surprise myself.

The last fourteen and a half years of having at least one child home with me for at least some part, if not all of the day has been my normal. Now, the season has changed and I’m settling into a new normal. Kissing all four of their faces as they exit the car in the morning, picking them up in the chaos of car rider line in the afternoon; and in the in-between, being brave, pursuing what God has called me to do with those hours He’s purposed for this time now.

There is so much in store; so much ahead that I can hardly stand to allow myself to shed a tear for what has been. But those were amazing chapters. My tears were more of a “thank you, God for letting me experience that,” than an “I’m so sad it’s over.”

We have many great things to come in our family. It will nevertheless, continue to change. It’s constantly going to be looking a little different. Most likely, I’ll cry again. I’m emotional like that. I’ll cry for what has been, for what will be and for the fact that God walks with me in the in-betweens.

Psalm 90:14 NLT  

Satisfy us each morning with your unfailing love, so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives.

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Courageous Dreams

Brandon, Heather, Brooklyn, Jaron, Caden & Gavin Meadows are big Disney fans!  This fact is no secret to anyone who remotely knows our family.  We find it amusing to work lines from Disney movies into our everyday conversation.  Just last night, when Jaron, our nine year-old, was off to take his shower after soccer practice, I reminded him to pay attention to certain anatomical locations.  He turned around and quoted a line from Timon in Lion King 1 ½, “Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore!”  We all burst in laughter! Brandon and I have never outgrown our enjoyment of Disney animation.  I remember back to when Toy Story 2 was released in theaters.  It was early in our marriage, so we didn’t have children yet.  Our schedule must have been pretty packed the Friday and Saturday of its premier; therefore, we resorted, despite our guilt, to skipping Sunday church in order to see it.

We currently see the same interest and excitement in our children.  Brooklyn is twelve, and yet still enjoys our Friday night family movie, which almost always is a Disney one.  And she is one of the best in the family to incorporate those Disney lines!  This makes it even funnier to us, because she’s the least animated of the kids.  When she works in a punch line, it’s hysterical, because it’s unexpected.

A couple of weeks ago, Brandon and I were sipping on our coffee while the kids munched on their cinnamon rolls, our normal Sunday morning routine.  Brandon asked the kids what were their dreams of becoming when they grew up.  He followed it with a passionate quote from Rapunzel in the movie Tangled, “Haven’t you ever had a dream?”

The conversation continued as each child expressed their dream.  Brooklyn shared that she wanted to be a veterinarian, out of her deep love for animals.  Jaron shared that he wanted to be a mechanic because he loved cars.  Caden shared that he wanted to be an engineer because he loved legos.  Even Gavin, our four year old, enthusiastically shared that he was going to be Spiderman when he grew up.

In our normal family way, we related this conversation back to Disney.  We spoke about Cinderella who believed in her dream.  In her song, A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes, she sings, “Have faith in your dreams and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through.

Then we spoke about Princess Tiana who, despite Mama Odie’s “Dig a Little Deeper” song, still emphasized her own strong work ethic in seeing her dream come true.

And of course, we acknowledged the man himself, Walt Disney who didn’t give up.  He made his greatest contribution to animation with Mickey Mouse only after losing his first successful animated character, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit, to another studio.

This may all seem somewhat childish, but the reality is, even adults have dreams.  We give them more grown-up descriptions, such as, “goals,” or “visions.”  But all in all we still dream.  More often than not, we just don’t have the courage to share those dreams or the faith to pursue them.  Or perhaps we look at a dream failed when really it was the Lord redirecting.

I had a dream of a vocal career in Contemporary Christian music.  Obviously, I’m a neonatal nurse, so you might be inclined to think that I was way off the mark and that the dream was naïve.  But I have seen the Lord benefit my life today from my pursuit of that dream.  I spent a few years traveling around the state of Oklahoma singing with a group within Oklahoma Kids.  That time was undoubtedly the happiest of my childhood and it cultivated my stage presence and confidence.  I had an acceptance there that I couldn’t find at school.  The foundation during that season of my life led me to singing on my own in competition, in festivals, in churches, and even in my town’s pageant.  One thing leads to another, and I found myself in Nashville with my vocal coach at Embassy Music, and later in Estes Park, Colorado at the Christian Music Artists' Seminar.

Again, waste of time because I’m a nurse and not a professional vocalist?  Not at all.  Those experiences prepared me for something I would have never imagined.  Public speaking.  More than anything, I gained an invaluable characteristic through discovering my potential in vocal music; I gained a sense of confidence, and that is something we all need to pursue the dreams God stirs within our hearts.

I’m still dreaming today.  I have dreams for my kids; that they pursue an education, have a fulfilling career, experience the love of a devoted spouse and the miracle of healthy children.  I have dreams for my marriage; including continual professional growth, service in ministry, time to enjoy hobbies together, and maybe some sand and water too.  Doesn’t a beach just represent a peaceful side of dreams?  I have dreams for my career as a nurse, for more opportunities in speaking, and for the open door to formally write my story.

What will come of these dreams, these visions, these goals?  I don’t know.  But God does.  He placed the dream in my heart to have a husband that would look beyond the scars and desire me as if there were none.  Dream came true.  He placed a dream in my heart to be able to experience pregnancy, birth and the wonder of motherhood.  Dream came true.  He placed a dream in my heart of being able to physically minister to patients as a nurse.  Dream came true.

I don’t know what it will look like, or how it will happen or when it will transpire, but I do know that God’s plan has been far greater than any I could have ever imagined, and that what He has in store is consistent with what He has accomplished.  This is where faith is at work.  Hebrews 11:1 (NLT), “Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.”

We walk by faith, not by sight.  We don’t wait to see the evidence before we step out.  We believe, we work hard, we push on through failed attempts because we have faith in the One who holds the plan.

May we all be courageous to pursue what God has placed in our hearts to dream.

“Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”- Walt Disney

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Thank You

High school football games were quite the event every Friday night in our hometown.  My high school didn’t reach 5A until my senior year.  But even before that, we had a pretty snazzy 4A team.  I remember back to my sophomore year in high school.  My parents and I went to every single game.  We weren’t going for anyone in particular; no relatives on the team or anything.  We were simply a part of the community and it was a way to show our support and involvement. As much fun as we had, I’ll never forget something that use to spark a bit of irritation in me.  It was when the game would get down to the wire so to speak.  We’d either need a field goal, or some game saving play.  One of the players would start waving his arms to get the crowd to cheer.  I wanted to say, “Hey, that’s the cheerleaders’ job!”    Nevertheless, we’d all, already standing to our feet start to scream even louder declaring our praise and reassurance.

It’s the same kind of feeling I get when I watch award shows and the recipient makes the comment, “I’d like to thank my fans.”  It just sounds so boisterous and somewhat conceited.  It’s for that very reason that I’ve never really liked the “follow” link on this blog. Who wants to be a follower anyway?  Didn’t we all get the message about being independent and having leadership qualities?

Regardless of the lingo, we know that these are all ways for us to express our support, to give our approval, to provide our encouragement.  It’s a way for us to state: “I believe in what you’re doing;” “I agree with what you say;” “I want you to keep going.”  These are the blessings that I have received from you, my precious readers and commenters.

I could have never anticipated what God had in store for this blog.  It was and is a daily step of obedience to open my life and share with you all.  This is vulnerability and humility like I’ve never known.  It’s so easy to put our confident and sometimes, even prideful faces on for the world.  It’s another thing to strip it away and share those hidden insecurities and inadequacies, those most heartfelt thoughts, deepest prayers and magnificent visions.

The words posted and messaged to me since Heather’s Blessed JouRNey, got up and running six months ago are treasures.  Like the one from Michelle, who went to school with my brother Jon.  She commented on 25 Years Later.

I still remember seeing the smoke from my house that day… I think of Jon often and remember what a special friend he was to me. Even though I was only 8 I remember that he would never let anyone go without a treat on bake sale day. I remember asking him if he was really sure if he had enough money to be buying everyone treats. He just smiled and said, “of course I I do.” He lifted everyone around him up. If I was having trouble with school work or just having a bad day he would give me that smile of his and make my day brighter. You are so much like him: warm, kind, and gentle. Jon was so willing to love people just like you!! Love, Michelle

Or the one recently, from Kim, a friend from high school.

Heather, I'm sure you get this from everyone that follows your blog...but I have to tell you how much I love reading them! You never fail to either give me chills or make me cry. You touch my heart every time. I want to tell you what an amazing woman you are and how you are such an inspiration. You have gone through so much in your life, and still you appear to be one of the happiest people I know. You have such a heart of gold. On the other hand, I must tell you what a freak of nature you are! I'm putting you up there in the rare category with Erika Cheatham...you two are the only two that just keep getting prettier the older you get! How do you do that?! It's not fair! Lol! ;) Anyway, it was weighing on my heart to let you know what a beautiful person you are inside and out. You can't say that about many people but I feel you are a genuine woman. I'm honored to call you my friend. And those lil nicu babies are lucky they have you to care for them :) xoxo

I share these to show that when we follow God’s will, even if we’re concerned that people will think we’re crazy, even if we’re inhibited to share those things we keep hidden; that our blessing will be far greater than our sacrifice.

How could I not return to give my very simple offerings?

John 15:5 (NIV) says, “Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.

I am absolutely nothing without Jesus.  My efforts writing here are in vain without Him.  My work as a nurse is futile without His anointing.  My role as a mother is ineffective without His guidance.  My commitment to my husband is empty without His love. He is everything and He makes something of anything I give to Him, as evidence by your gracious support of my humble contributions.

Thank you! Thank you, for reading so faithfully.  Thank you, for sharing with your family and your friends.  Thank you, for taking a moment to post those invaluable comments.  Thank you, for giving back to my life, more than what I’m sure I could have ever given to yours.

Bless you, readers!

Because of your support, I've had the privilege to share with....

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Trust in You

I am a planner. I like to know as far in advance as possible what I’m going to be doing. Before I even finish a task, I am mentally planning and plotting the next. I try to keep these thoughts tucked nicely inside my mind and pace sharing them; otherwise, I completely overwhelm my husband. He gets tired just listening, and I think my kids probably do too. Nursing school stretched me in the department of flexibility, no doubt. And it’s a good thing, because I can’t see how anyone can be a nurse without being flexible. We never know what the day will hold and we just have to roll with it and face it as it comes.

We all know though, that life is full of things we didn’t plan for; even if it is minor inconveniences. Like making a special trip to the local hardware store only to find that they are out of the one item you needed, or getting called in to work on a day you planned to spend with your family, or having the dryer go out when you have seven loads of laundry, two of which are already wet. These things happen all the time and it really puts a dent in the planning.

But what about when it’s not a minor inconvenience, what about the times that it’s completely devastating?

After finishing the first semester of nursing school, we had three of our classmates who were expecting. We teased that we all handle stress differently. A fun joke for our class that was exceptionally close. These babies were a celebration and sweet anticipation for us all. All three of the girls were due within about a month of each other. The first baby due was sweet Emily, Katie’s baby.

Katie went for a routine appointment a week before her due date, checking out just right. However, throughout the evening, Katie noticed that Emily was not moving around; mindful of those ever important kick counts. She went to the emergency department in the middle of the night. A short time later, in labor and delivery, Katie received news that she wasn’t prepared to hear. Her precious baby had died in utero from a cord accident. Katie had to proceed with delivering her baby and doing something no one plans to do; making funeral arrangements.

Most of our class attended Emily’s service. We grieved for our friend at the unfair reality of this imperfect world. But I personally, stood back through that season with complete admiration for this young woman. Katie pressed on in nursing school and she graduated from the University of Oklahoma with her bachelor’s degree in nursing. And she did it without delay. Katie walked that stage with all of us; the same group with whom she began that journey.

I thought of my friend recently while visiting with a patient’s mom. We had her fifth baby in our unit and although her baby was considered non-critical, it was absolutely devastating to this mother the events that had taken place surrounding her baby’s birth. She had planned to have this baby in the manner that she had her other four children; vaginal birth, no complications, straight to breast. However, she had to have a C-Section due to decreased fetal movement; the baby had a nuchal cord. The mother continued to explain to me, in floods of tears, that she wasn’t able to feed her baby. She was absolutely heartbroken that her baby received the first feeding through a nasogastric tube.

It’s all a matter of perspective. This mother never even imagined giving birth to a baby and it not going as planned. But it doesn’t always go the way we think it will. But it’s not about us, it’s about the baby. This is exactly what I thought several months ago when I asked about the delivery of a distant relative of ours. I was told, “Oh, Heather. She was a rock star. She did it without an epidural or any medication.” Really? Does that mean that the mom who was hospitalized, under observation, on bed rest for six weeks and then rushed in for a C-Section isn’t a “rock star?”

I have to say, that I take my hat off to all the moms who do whatever is within their power to safely give birth to their baby. We all know that life doesn’t always go as planned, and that includes minor and major events. These are the times that we rely on our trust in God. Do we trust Him only when things make sense and go according to what our minds can comprehend? Or do we trust Him no matter what, at all cost, at all loss? Of course it’s easier to turn our trust over to Him when life is sweet, but what about when it’s unfair, unkind, and confusing? This is where our faith is at work.

I leave you today with two scriptures I pray challenge you spiritually and bring you comfort and peace.

Proverbs 3:5 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.” Psalm 34:1 “I will bless the Lord at all times; and His praise shall continually be in my mouth.”

Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death ~ MEND  

*special thanks to Katie for permission in publishing this post~ a strong young woman who is willing to share her heartache to help heal others.  To read more about her and her journey, visit www.emilysmomy.blogspot.com

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A Meaningful March

A question that I was asked frequently toward the end of nursing school was, “Where are you going to work?” Some seemed surprised when I responded, “In the NICU at Saint Francis.” First of all, I was a burn survivor and second of all, I promoted Hillcrest Medical Center with my burn survivor story. But there are many stories that make up my life and who I am. One alone does not define me or guide me. Every experience contributes to the person I’ve become and the work I desire to do. As passionate as I am about burn care and the compassion, drive, sensitivity and motivation that burn care nurses provide, my eyes were opened to a whole new world in December of 2003. My first son, Jaron Michael was my biggest baby, born on December 23rd weighing 7 pounds. To our disbelief, Jaron was in respiratory distress and was taken to the NICU at St. John where he was intubated. Forty eight hours later, he was extubated and we were anticipating a quick transition to home. However, we were unaware of the common need for phototherapy and IV caffeine.  It was a heart wrenching process.

Despite every intention to avoid another visit to the NICU, that is exactly where Brandon and I found ourselves when our fourth child, our third son Gavin Lee, was born on July 13th 2009. I had a sudden encounter with some very disturbing symptoms. I lost part of my vision, had a bout with expressive aphasia followed by dysphasia, then transitioned into receptive aphasia. My husband rushed me to St. John Medical Center; I was admitted, and started on the dreaded magnesium sulfate. Once the symptoms had subsided and I was faced with the fact that my baby was going to be delivered five weeks early, I lay in bed and wept, knowing the inevitable. I prayed for the Lord to help me accept that once again my baby would be whisked away by virtual strangers and I would not be able to be with him.

These encounters developed my heart for this area of care. And today I get to do for other babies what I so desperately wanted to do for my own. I support these babies and their families through my work and my walk. For a girl who wasn’t supposed to live, and then wasn’t supposed to be able to walk, and who wasn’t supposed to be able to have children, I get to live and walk with my children for other babies and their families. And that is exactly what we did last week.

Every year we set a $500 March of Dimes fundraising goal; a hundred dollars for each baby. You see, we have five babies in our hearts. We had Brooklyn, and then miscarried our second baby, we had Jaron, our first NICU baby, then Caden, and then came Gavin, our second NICU baby. There is a personal drive to support moms in growing healthy babies, and in helping sick babies get well. It’s all pretty simple, but intricate too.

Our fundraising for 2013 came to $585! Thank you to all who gave support. Every donation, big and small, makes a difference. It made a difference for our family and it makes a difference to this nurse.

How precious is your unfailing love, O God! All humanity finds shelter in the shadow of your wings. Psalm 36:7 NLT

Thank you to our sponsors! Allison Bacon, Mindy Beasley, Stephanie Bennett, Betty Bermudez, Misty Berryhill, Natalie and Donnie Clyma, Susan Cochrane, Court and Lisa Dooley, Margaret Edmonson, Rob and Amanda Emery, Gayle Foster, Sherry and Tim Kelley, Robin and Kirby Meadows, Renda and Nathan Rapp, Emily Forth, Lezlie Glass, Elizabeth Herber, Lori Kelly, Jammie Kern, Megan Lindsey, Kayla and Felipe Martinez, Julia Morrison, Kristy and Greg Morrison, Brandon and Athena Rainbolt, Trevor and Amber Randall, Ray and Emile Tucker, Channing Wedel , Teddy and Denise Wyatt.

March of Dimes Mission

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Proud Emotion

I’m sure it comes as no surprise to say that I’m a crier.  But it’s not all inclusive.  I’m not one to shed tears at Hallmark commercials.  I'm not a big fan of tear-jerker movies, and I don’t lose it at every wedding or funeral.  However, when it comes down to classifying, I have to be put in that category.  I’m just an emotional person and when something touches my heart or comes from my heart, I frequently get choked up. The assumption could be made that since I’m aware of this that I’d be prepared for it or that I’d embrace it, but I’m not and I don’t.  I seem to never have tissues in my pocket or purse, and when I begin to get that lump in my throat, when my nose starts to burn and my eyes start to water, I tend to try and contain it, to hold it back.  I can’t even imagine the faces I make in my attempts.  Why I even try?  I don’t know.

This past Thursday I had “A Mom Moment.”  I was so overcome with pride that those tears were uncontainable.  Our school system has a Student of the Month program.  Two students from the highest grade at each school, elementary through high school, are chosen for this recognition.  The two students’ names are on the marque for their particular school throughout the month, the students have a place to display items that represent them in a case at their school, are recognized in an assembly, featured in the newspaper and treated to lunch with their principal and superintendent, among others.

Our second child, our oldest son, has always been what I would describe as very intuitive.  We’ve been told countless times from his teachers that he is very bright and quite intelligent.  He’s always felt comfortable mingling with adults and expressing his thoughts.  He wants to know the “why” and “how” of things.  He is diligent, competitive, and confident.  We’ve had several discussions with him about showing respect, because when he thinks he is right, he has been known to try and correct his teachers during lessons.

With this strong personality also comes a very sensitive and compassionate nature.  Our son never has a problem speaking his mind or expressing his deep emotion.  He gives and receives love with a kiss, a hug, a pat on the back.  Finding his balance between his intellectual ability and acceptable behavior has been the challenge.  Therefore, when we received the letter that said our child was chosen for Central Elementary Student of The Month, we were ecstatic.  And he was honored with the award this past Thursday.

During the luncheon, our son’s principal read a little bit about him.  His favorite subject, his favorite book, his favorite activity were among the topics, but what gripped my heart was what he wanted to be when he grew up.  Mrs. Dotson said, “Jaron says he wants to be an engineer when he grows up because his Dad is an engineer.”

I should have just let the tears fall, but I tried to contain myself.  So many times we tuck our kiddos into bed and feel like we just got through another day.  They got to school in clean clothes, hopefully with their teeth brushed, we got the homework finished, dinner on the table, practice or games completed, showers, laundry, dishes, shoes collected, school notes signed, and kisses goodnight.  We don’t always stop to think that our children might just want to be like us when they grow up.

The pride I had over my son was immense.  He had achieved not only the academic acknowledgement but the recognition of his character.  And in his moment, I was reminded of Titus 2:7, “And you yourself must be an example to them by doing good works of every kind. Let everything you do reflect the integrity and seriousness of your teaching.”

In our everyday in and out lives, we are preaching the greatest message to the greatest generation- our children.

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Goodbye Bailey

There was no coincidence that it was raining this morning.  Although it was a steady light shower, it felt like more of a downpour. I bathed my 13 year old lab this past Monday and could feel, not only the tumors she had had on her side over the last three years, but that now she felt emaciated; able to feel her skeletal structure as I lathered her coat with shampoo.  My mom made a statement that struck a chord.  She said, “I can’t believe you’re letting her live like that, Heather.  My goodness, you should know.  You’re a nurse for heaven’s sake.”

I don’t know that being a nurse had anything to do with it, but it was evident that my husband and I were in denial as to the current state of our dog’s health.  We couldn’t bring ourselves to discuss the issue.  Even though we consistently had to clean up accidents, which she didn’t even know she was having, we just didn’t speak of the end.  Even though our dog declined food, scratched the door to come in and out and in and out from confusion, and was challenged with mobility from arthritis, we simply did not communicate letting her go.    That is, until this past Monday when I called to make an appointment with our vet for today, Saturday April 13, 2013, to discuss these issues regarding our beloved pet.

A flood of emotion accompanied the words as we begin to give an account of our dog’s condition.  And that emotion only continued as we proceeded with what we knew was inevitable…. saying goodbye to our Bailey Ann.

We took her into a big room and spread out our big blanket that she loved to lay on when we have movie night.  I gave her treats as she relaxed on the blanket with us.  The vet delicately and lovingly gave her a shot to make her sleep, and then came back to administer that last shot.  I snuggled her and repeatedly told her, “I love you, Bailey.”

We carried her to our car and brought her back home where she belongs; with us.  On that drive I reminisced of the beautiful spring day that my husband and I went to get her.  Our sweet dog never completely lost that playful puppy spirit.  Her body deteriorated but her spirit never did; which is what made it so hard to let go.

In the thirteen years we had to enjoy Bailey, she welcomed home all four of our children and guarded them as if they were her own, she survived being run over four times, she graced the photo of every Christmas card and she greeted us each time we pulled in the driveway or walked in the door.  She was a part of our family before we became a family.

We close a chapter as we bid farewell to our precious pet.  I should only be filled with joy to have had the blessing of such an amazing dog for so many years. I imagine there will never be another like her, our Bailey Ann.

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