Misc. Pictures and Stuff

My favorite fellas.

He has slept like this since he was a tinybaby.

The most handsome boy on the planet.

Still Hangin' In

Well, my last post (before Veterans Day) was a real upper, eh? I was not in a very good place. I've been dealing with a lot of grief lately, but not realizing it. I figure, it's been 10 years, I should be "used" to this, or it shouldn't bother me anymore.

Well, it's NEVER going to NOT bother me, because it's not the way I was made. I was fearfully and wonderfully made, and knitted together in my mother's womb (Psalm 139). Myasthenia gravis is a crippling condition, mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. Unless and until I fully comprehend that, I am going to struggle.

I am not just a physical being. I have a mind. I have a soul. I have a spirit. And everything is effected by this wretched disease.

I thought that grief was like a checklist: first you're in denial, then you're angry, then you bargain with God, then you're depressed, then you accept it. Well, it's more like a labyrinth than a ladder. It's not a straight-up-the-pegs-go-through-it-once-and-you're-done-kind of thing. It's more like a crazy, twisted maze that starts you off in one direction, then spins you in another, only to find yourself back at the beginning all over again.

My latest setback was the realization that barring direct act of God, I will not have any more children, neither biologically nor by adopting. Several things have lead up to that decision, which I'm not quite up to sharing yet. All I know is that the hole in my heart seems so big and so consuming, that I feel as if I'll never recover.

I always wanted a lot of kids. I NEVER wanted an only child (no offense to only children, it's just a personal thing). Doug is an only child and it is immense pressure. I never wanted that for my children.

Child.

It's not fair. But it is what it is. I can't change it. I don't know that I'll ever accept it either. But I know I have to grieve. I don't want to, because it hurts. A lot. But the alternative is worse. Keeping it inside only makes it grow, and consuming, and overwhelming, and before you know it, you're in a very deep, dark hole that there's no escaping.

So I will grieve. It will take time. A lot of time. But as Job said, "I KNOW that my Redeemer lives." Whether here or in eternity, there will be redemption.

Thank You To Our Armed Forces

Thank you to the men and women who have served and are serving our country. Thank you for fighting for freedom and principals. Thank you for standing up when so many others choose to sit, or worse yet, walk away. Thank you to the families who live without loved ones for long periods of time because they are all over the world keeping MY family safe.

My niece has moved back up to Michigan to stay with my sister because her husband has been deployed again, and they have a 2 month old baby. Thank you Daniel. Thank you Jessica and baby Haylee. Your daddy is the bravest man I know.

Thank you to those who have bled and died so that I can vote. So that I can live freely. So that I can believe the way I choose to believe, and express it without fear of imprisonment or persecution. So that we stay the Land of the Free. You have all already demonstrated that we are the Land of the Brave.

May God bless you and your families, keep you all safe and protected until you are reunited again. Thank you for your sacrifice.

Stop The Pendulum

"No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;.... any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind." John Donne


Ever wonder what it would be like to NOT be involved in mankind? Anyone ever felt like they WANTED to be an island? I honestly never have in my life, until now. To just be by myself, no one to make me cry or hurt me or confuse me or break my heart. Just me and God.


My life is a pendulum. I am the pendulum....or more technically I should say I'm the "bob" at the end of the pendulum. (That's what the thingy on the end of a pendulum is called. Learn something new every day). It seems like anyone or anything has the control of the motion, and I'm just along for the ride.


I've always wanted to be part of something...some group. Sisters. Friends. Mothers. Bloggers. Christian women. Wives. Like live and in person, not just behind a screen. But lately I feel as if it would just be better if I could just isolate myself totally. Then I could only disappoint myself. I would be the only one to blame.


I think me and the Lord would do just fine. He won't rip out my heart and crap in its cavity.

Misc. Pictures and Stuff

Picking out pumpkins to take home. Short sleeves and shorts. Last year it was long sleeves and jackets! Ah, Michigan!

Decorating a pumpkin.

The Pumpkin or The Fly???

Unhappy camper about something!

Carving pumpkins with Daddy!

This is the itty bitty puppy that weight 9.8 pounds about six months ago. My WORD

Jacob's wonderful artwork. (They are dinosaurs.)

What a kid!

It's A New Day

This morning, the first blog comment I read was from my new friend Patty Ann. (And it was very sweet, thank you Patty!) I, in turn, went to her blog to read her latest post and thank her for reading mine. I'm SO glad I did!! I have taken one paragraph from her post that stuck it's proverbial fist out through my computer screen and smacked me in the head. Her blog post was taken from President Dieter F. Uchtdorf's talk given at the October 2010 General Conference (I'm not sure what conference...) Anyway.

After the last 2 months, no words could have been more perfect for me to read at this very moment in time:

"My dear brothers and sisters, we would do well to slow down a little, proceed at the optimum speed for our circumstances, focus on the significant, lift up our eyes, and truly see the things that matter most. Let us be mindful of the foundational precepts our Heavenly Father has given to His children that will establish the basis of a rich and fruitful mortal life with promises of eternal happiness. They will teach us to do “all these things . . . in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that [we] should run faster than [we have] strength. [But] it is expedient that [we] should be diligent, [and] thereby . . . win the prize.”

Somehow, even though I've heard the same thing literally hundreds of times by dozens of people (slow down, don't rush, pace yourself, don't over do it), these words got me. They sunk in. It is almost as if I have finally granted myself permission to relax. Proceed at the "optimum speed for my circumstances." Mmm-mmm. Can I get an AMEN?!?!?! I don't know what it is about a certain phrase or set of words, but the way these were put together simply sang to my soul.

"It is not requisite [required, necessary, obligatory] that we should run faster than we have strength....but that we should be diligent and thereby win the prize." Finally. I think I'm going to have t-shirts printed up, wallpaper my house, shout it from the treetops (well, maybe not. I can't really shout, and I certainly won't climb a tree!) but you get my drift. This is my new mantra. My new dawn. My new day. My new life.

And I'm feelin' GOOD!

A Page From My Journal

When I was in the hospital trying to get a diagnosis, my mom kept a journal for me. Yes, I do know I have the best mom ever. I found it on the shelf yesterday and was reading through it again. Thought I'd share an entry or two. My words are in [brackets].

October 18, 2000 [the day after I arrived by helicopter to University Hospital in Ann Arbor]

Mom and Dad came in early this morning. I am extremely unhappy with this tube down my throat. It is most annoying. I'm asking when this tube is coming out. They try explaining that I need it for breathing. This disorder [all they knew at this point was that it was neurological] I have has made my muscles weak and has done some nerve damage. They think it's called "myasthenia gravis." This can be treated with a treatment called "blood plasma exchange" [plasmapheresis]. Also cortisone is given and possibly other drugs as long-term treatment. [There is no cure].

All I know is I'm laying here with no underwear on, tubes everywhere and I can't communicate. I try by writing on paper with a marker. I haven't lost my sense of humor though. I wrote, "Do I look fabulous or what?" It made mom and dad laugh.

October 19, 2000

This morning Dr. Smith talked with mom and dad. Now he says they aren't sure if it's myasthenia gravis because although I have many of the symptoms there is a couple that usually begin like drooping eyelids that I don't have.

I need another EMG to find out. I didn't really care to hear that either. This is a nerve test and ends up with me being poked with needles [not to mention shocked!]. I still want this tube out "now!" My humor shines through once again when I write "Am I still alive?" [I'm not sure I was actually kidding at the time!]

Later today the doctors say they think I may have something called "Chronic Inflammatory Demyelinating Polyneuropathy" or CIDP [not to be confused with lung disease called COPD].

The treatment for this one is the same as the MG so they say they're beginning treatment. I'll have one today, one tomorrow, and 3 next week. Also had another spinal tap today. More poking. They're sending my spinal fluid to Boston and Maryland for testing.