Basket is full...of anger

It's been a long time since I blogged.  I have wanted to...I even had a draft written. However, I just couldn't do it.  But now...well...I can.

I am getting divorced.  No if, ands or buts about it.  It is happening.  And right now, I am SOOO ok with it.  I am even over the moon about it most days.  I can't go into details (no joke...can't do it...like I have been told "DON'T DO IT") but I can talk about my feelings.  And my therapist says I should do that anyway.  So here I am, back to my lovely blog who...well..I love.  It is home here. 

My overwhelming feeling right now is anger. Angry that the boy I fell in love with is completely gone.  Angry that the man/boy I married is completely gone.  Angry that the man who I have raised my children with is GONE. Angry that this man who has weaseled his way into my life is, well, HERE.  Angry that decisions that are being made are hurting the 3 most important people in my life.  I am angry at myself for not seeing when this man started to sneak in.  I am angry at myself for always wanting to see the good so I blinded myself to any of the bad.  I am angry that in doing that, I feel responsible for this weasel hurting those 3 innocent, awesome people.

And all of this anger is doing 2 things.  It is keeping me going instead of sending me into the fetal position, bawling my head off, and scratching my eyes out. However it is also making me ANGRY!  And *sigh* I am kinda...um..taking it out on God. And I know, I know, I know....I know He is good and He does nothing for bad.  I know He is there and I should just lean on Him.  But...ugh...BUT! 

Have you ever been a rebellious teen or at least know of one, or even watched a Lifetime movie about one?  That is where I feel like I am right now.  YOU have allowed all this to happen! YOU did this! Why don't YOU just leave me ALONE! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!!!!!  In my head, I know all of that is false, I know that.  But my heart is in a bajillion pieces and IT is leading me right now.  

And because I have felt and know God's grace, I imagine Him in heaven so hurt right now.  But I also see Him as that parent who says "I know you are harming yourself and that this isn't the way to fix things.  However I also know that the natural consequences you will endure will teach you better than any punishment I could enforce.."  So...will you pray for me? Because I am on minimal speaking terms with JC right now.  I say an occasional "Hi" at the dinner table and ask Him for $20 every once in a while, but we aren't really speaking. 

Will Always Get Me...

Crap

I haven't posted in a long time.  And I hate that because I love sitting down at this computer and just writing.  I love pouring my nerdiness and love and randomness out for others to read.  Whether others laugh, cry or just make fun of, I enjoy it.  However because of the super hard stuff at home, I just can't find a way to do it.  The super hard stuff is consuming me and I hate that.  I hate that most everything I think about or do has something to do with that SHS...or crap.

However...last weekend I went to Six Flags' Fright Fest with my mother in law, father in law, brother in law, sister in law and neice.  And technically my nephew although he is still in utero.  :-)  Yes...you did read that right.  Anyway.  It was a wonderful weekend.  Things were so NORMAL.  We had fun and interacted just like always.  I came home feeling refreshed.  I needed that weekend.  I needed that normalcy.

So I continue to hold on to Hope.  I continue to pray.  I continue to work on ME because that is all I can do.

And I hope that it isn't quite so long before I blog again....

Prayer and Hope

Those are the things I am holding onto these past few days.  Or I guess past couple of weeks.  I won't go into nasty details, because you all know that is not healthy. I will say that I know God has a plan.  He has plans even when we screw up His plans.  And then He has backup plans for the backup plan that we screwed up last week!  So, I know God will overcome.  So in the meantime I pray.  I pray like I have never prayed before. 

Which is always so sad.  Praying like I have never prayed before because my family and my marriage is falling apart at my feet. Why didn't I pray when things were just hairy?  Why didn't I pray when things were good?  Why didn't I pray before?  However, those thoughts aren't healthy and I need to take what I have right now and run with it.

So I am holding onto Prayer.  And my God who does miraculous things.  (Have you READ the Bible?  Seriously miraculous things.)

And Hope...Hope for a better tomorrow.  Hope for a better today.  Hope for smidges of movement in the direction of family.  Smidges of movement in the direction of restoration.  What those may look like only God knows.  But I have HOPE in HIM and I know that whatever the outcome, He will provide.

I just have to keep reminding myself of these things.  At all times.....

Going through the BIG D....

I'm getting a divorce. And it sucks. Bad.

Spiritual Warfare

So...um...yeeeeaaaaahhhhh.....

That's what is up.  Spiritual Warfare.

 I know it happens.  I know Satan delights in the doubts and nasties of us.  But I guess I have never really felt it.  Like hardcore.  And I mean, I guess I should have.  There has been plenty of times in my life when I have doubted God.  Lots of instances when I wanted to, and probably did, look to the sky and say "WHERE ARE YOU? WHY AM I HERE IN THIS PLACE?"  But right now things are different.

Satan is attacking me where it hurts.  Like REALLY bad.  And I do apologize for the vagueness in this.  Maybe in a few months I might be able to be more transparent, but for now I need to hide in vague. 

But yeah, Satan is using his attractiveness and wit to whisper in my ear.  He is caressing my innermost secrets.  He is agreeing with my most hated insecurities.  And he is laughing.  He is laughing at the twisted tangled mess I am making of it.  He is EATING it up.  I feel like I am a great movie or dramatic book for him to devour.

The good thing, is I KNOW this.  I SEE it.  I can feel it.  And I am fighting.  I am not always fighting well though.  I am taking those vicious, beautiful lies he is feeding me and I am seeing truth in it.  However, I have called on God and you know what?  He is not taking this lying down.  He is sending people to pray for me.  He is sending people to fold socks with me.  He is sending people to say "Stop it.  I know this is hard, but you must fight how you must fight and lean on Him." 

Thank you Jesus for sending these people.  Thank you Jesus for your promise of a better day.  Thank you Jesus for taking up your sword and helping me defend.  Thank you for teaching me through trials even though I LOATHE the lesson, I have faith that the knowledge on the other side of it will be awesome.  The kind of awesome that only YOU can give.

The Church needs to be STRANGE

So I already posted once today, but I am just so irritated and hurt for a random stranger in the comments of a blog I want to scream. 

I frequent a different blog and I re-read a post and then went reading through the comments.  I came across a woman who was struggling with the fact that her church family is essentially fake.  She stated "...at my church, your "old" story is acceptable as long as that was who you were and not who you are today.  To admit that you are CURRENTLY struggling with something -- oh, no.  We can't do that.  Unless it's a *Christian* struggle (I don't spend enough time reading Scripture ... My prayer time is lacking)."  I wanted to cry for this random woman.

Our church is supposed to lift us up ALL THE TIME.  You know the saying "God is good....All the time." Yeah that should be us too. 

I am SOOOOOOO blessed to have a church family who is good...all the time.  Whether I am smiling and laughing or in the darkest crevice of my cave.  They are good when I am volunteering my time, and when I say "I can't do this anymore."  They are good when I tell my testimony of how broken I was when I was 17 and they are even better when I tell how I am broken RIGHT NOW.

I have church friends FAMILY who are there for me at the drop of a hat.  Who sit with me and let me talk and cry until 1:30 in the morning.  People who will come over and sort through socks with me because I really just need someone there.  People who will take my children overnight and do fun things with them while I stay at the hospital with a sick child.  People who will be at the hospital with me and that sick child.

Church family who will cry and pray and hug and hope and problem solve all while NOT judging.  People who have been there and done that and who will take up my fight with me.

And I have said that it is so strange because my church, does it right.  We don't judge.  We don't belittle.  We lift up when you are down.  And it really irks me that "strange" is the word to describe it.  I mean..why have a church family if they are judgmental and belittling and only lift you when you are up?  Seriously, we get enough of that from the WORLD.  Shouldn't our church be a "comfort"?

I don't know....just ticks me off.  Prayers and love for that nameless woman commenter.  God knows who you are and where you are.  I pray for a change in the hearts of those who attend your church.  I pray you may find comfort in the most important place...His arms. 

Filler

My heart is bursting, my head is full....but I have no strength or words to release either of them.  So this is my filler.....





Dear Photograph

Only God Gives Restoration

If You Take The Time To Look, His Message Rings Loud And Clear

All by myself...and it's nice.

So I am alone this weekend and it has been oddly nice.

I went to a movie by myself.   And this may not be a "thang" for anyone, but I am 30 years old and have never done that.  Not ever really considered it an option.  Like why would I want to go sit in a theatre by myself and watch a movie? 

But it was WONDERFUL!  Like, why have I never done this before!?  Oh yeah...I know why.  Because by the time I was old enough to take myself to a movie, I had this boy who I needed to spend every waking moment with.  And then I had these little people all around my feet and the authorities frown upon leaving little people alone to fend for themselves. 

Then I went and hung out with a few of the most awesome teenagers alive.  This is always fun.  ("I'm putting my soul in a worm.")  Then some more fun that included ice cream and french fries.  Obvious fun...  Then a wonderous chat until 1:30 am with an amazing and wise friend.

So all in all, good times to be had by all by ME!

For moms, dads and everyone else

I was honored to be able to do the devotion for a baby shower this weekend.  A friend from church and her husband are having a baby girl.  And what is even better than that (I know not much right?!) is that she has a REALLY good chance of being a REDHEAD!  Yeah!!!  Babies are awesome, but red heads, especially red headded girls are AH-mazing.  Maybe I am a bit biased...but whatev.  ;) 
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I have some bad news.  Nothing will prepare you for motherhood.  You will stumble and fall and feel guilt like you have never felt before.  You will scar your children and you will certainly send them into the world unprepared.  You will yell when they need comfort, you will buckle when they need you to be stern.  You will never be cool enough and you will always embarrass them.  The good news is…as long as you love them, God will do the rest.

 I had an awful week.  I was stressed beyond what I could handle and I threw a temper tantrum at God.  I was angry. I was hurt. I was acting like a 2 year old.  How can you do this?  Why do you let this happen?  Why are you not stepping in and fixing it?  Even a couple of “Are you even there?  Why when I need you can I not feel you?”  And so in the depths of despair when I KNOW I should have been seeking him, I allowed Satan to nest in my heart and fester.  I didn’t talk to Him, I didn’t lean on Him, and I was crossing my arms and pouting because He wasn’t just fixing it.  And you know what?  I was miserable.  I was a walking zombie for days.  But God can be a tricky fellow.  He has strategically placed these little bodies of joy into my life.  These little sticky, messy, mouthy, bodies of joy who would say “Mama can you come outside with me? Can you draw with the sidewalk chalk? It’s such a nice day.  Let’s get some fresh air.”  One who would just sit next to me and put her hand on mine.  One who gave extra hugs even though he’s “too old” for them.  And so when I finally started to see the light, when through the darkness I saw glimmers of hope, I buckled like a child.  I buckled and said “God I am so, so, so, so, so sorry.”  I fell to my knees and begged for forgiveness that only He can give.

Then I started to see myself.  See how I had been acting.  I started thinking about this devotion that I wanted to call Lindsay and back out of.  And I could just see Him; picture Him as I slowly went…Lightbulb.  I could see Him say “Yes. You got it.”  I could see Him nod his head and breathe a sigh of relief at my moment when I understood.  I may be a parent.  I may be an adult.  But I am still a child, His child. 

I believe all of that is a perfect example of what happens to us when we become parents.  We get glimpses of what God has been dealing with for an eternity from us.  Our disobedience and our mouthiness.  Our defiance and our rejection.  Our sin and our bad choices. Yet He loves us anyway.  He allows us into his little club by blessing us with children to love and only want the absolute best for.  Children we would not hesitate to lay our own lives down for if it were to save theirs, even when they are disobedient.  Even when they are mouthy.  Even if they reject our teachings.  Even through their sin.                   

But this is just one thing God does for us when he allows us to be parents.   He allows us a better glimpse at himself, but He also does something else, something so much harder to deal with.  He puts us in our children’s life so they can see Him through us.  Ugh.  What?!  No, no, no, no.  Don’t you remember what I said earlier?  You know the scarring and the hurt and the embarrassment?  That’s not Godly.  That’s me. In all my horrible humanness.  There is where the hard part lies.  We must be responsible to our children.  To BE God for them.  To BE Jesus in their little lives.

Exodus 20:12, the fifth commandment says, “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.”  Some may look at that and say “See you must honor me.”  You know “Respect my authoritah!”  But how often does that work?  How often does it work to demand authority or respect?  You must model it.  Teach it with actions.  So while our children are to honor us, and we honor our parents, we also must respect them enough to teach them how.  Teach them to love God with all their hearts by showing them how much WE love God.  Teach them to rely on Him when the going gets tough by seeking Him in those hard times.  Teach them to ask for forgiveness when they fall short by dropping to our knees in front of God when sin taints our lives.  Teach them to be tolerant and loving by being compassionate and understanding to the very least. 

So my charge to every mother, including myself, is to embrace the gifts God has bestowed upon us.  To not only love and cherish our children, but to BE God to them.   To model what He is so they can as well.  After all, our most important job as parent is to give them the skills and tools to be amazing adults. 

More media :)

So my girls absolutely LOVE Taylor Swift, so it's not suprise that I know pretty much all of her songs.  I was thinking about this one today and it made me laugh about an internet conversation I had once.  A friend had mentioned how different she was from this song at 15.  I replied it was me at 15.  All the way down to dating the football player.

Is this what no sleep feels like?

I am a sleeper.  I can fall asleep no problem and up until lately I would sleep through the night.  I could sleep.  Now, not so much.  I wouldn't classify it as insomnia, but it sure is annoying.  I still fall asleep with little problems, but now I am waking up every hour or two to turn over.  And it hurts!  Really! It does.  My back has been killing me at night.  We did all the usual stuff like flipping the mattress and putting a mattress pad on it,  Nothing.  I still toss and turn in pain and wake up hurting.  Ugh...it's wearing on me.

And now, here I am at 4am, blogging.  Why?  Because I slept from 11:30 to 12:30 and woke up.  Then I dozed until 1:30 when my body proceeded to tell me...Nope.  Enough sleeping for you.  Sigh....

And part of my not sleeping tonight is a full head.  And an uninvited guest.  I wrote a little story about him a while back. 

It's been a long time since he has wrapped his uninvited arms around me and held on.  I do believe this time he has started to invade my brain because I can't get him to shut up.  And all my "skills" that I have learned from multiple therapists and psychiatrists and groups are not working.  I have tried to communicate, but he must have his hand over my mouth because nothing is happening.  There is a part of my head right now that says "This too shall pass" but then he says "Whatever.  You know I will always be here, playing on your insecurities. Laughing amongst your pain. Dwell in it with me.  It is so much easier than to fight." 

And at 4 am....he's right.  Round 1 goes to Depression.... 

Pics and Vids...Zaia style!



Nana, Me and Wendy before Surgery



Hanging out in the waiting room

Playing a logic game Wendy brought

Picking out my surgery cap





Putting my Red, White, and Blue hat on



 All ready to go!

After the Verced

Right after surgery.

Woke up enough to want Green Puppy

Kisses from Daddy <3

First smile! Took a day and a half to see it

Feeling better and coloring my name banner

Joel trying to make me smile with the elephant hat

Rhianna's turn!

Playing in the activity room

My ride out the door!

Waving Goodbye to Children's Hospital Of Illinois!

Boston sure did miss me!  And I missed him too

This video was of Zaia walking the hall for the first time after surgery.  She did so well!!

Thanks for the prayers!

Who would have guessed I had surgery 5 days ago?!

Thoughts, Feelings and Surgery in a Nut Shell

I thought I would just throw a picture blog together for this but I have decided that in 10 years I want to have this in words.  I want to have it in words for me, and for Zaia.  Besides, I bet this could be just as good, and significantly less expensive, than therapy. 

Tuesday was obviously a rough day.  I previously blogged that I was awake well before my alarm.  I also bawled before I even got out of bed.  Terrified was an understatement.  I don't know what word is worse, but that is how I felt.  I know this was all from Satan because I wasn't so scared to not go through with everything, it was just an overwhelming feeling.  Almost like it was a wall trying to keep me from God.  Satan lost that battle because as scared as I was, I prayed and prayed and prayed. 

So, we got up and got the kids up and ready.  Bless her little heart, Zaia was excited because she couldn't grasp the entirety of what was about to happen.  We got to the hospital after a little pit stop by my mom's house.  (She was meeting us there, but I needed to take one of her Ativan which is an anti anxiety drug.  Gotta love it!)  We got to the hospital and our Associate Pastor, Bill Smith and my mom were there.  While waiting at admitting our dear friend Wendy Monahan arrived with her own bag of games and goodies.  After getting Zaia her bracelet we were off to the surgical floor.  We staked out a good portion of the waiting area equipped with a tv, big soft cushion chairs and play tables.  The kids were playing with Wendy and we were just waiting.  Next walked in Scott's younger brother, Aaron, and his wife, Elizabeth.  Aaron is in the Army and was home for a couple of weeks while he changed duty stations from South Korea to El Paso, Texas.  He had Korean gifts for the kids and gave them to them.  They loved them all and it was a good distraction.

It seemed like we were only there for about 10 minutes when we were called back with Zaia.  She changed into some "styling" seafoam green pajamas.  She also got to pick out a cap from a basket FULL of different patterned surgical caps.  She picked a white one with red and blue polka dots.  Very appropriate since the day before was the Fourth of July.  We went into a room and they took her vitals and such.  She was starting to get nervous and fussed some over the O2 monitor.  Dr. "Anesthesiologist" came in to talk to us and there was some paperwork.  I cried as I signed them.  Nothing like feeling like you are signing your daughter's actual life away to bring on the waterworks.  A few minutes later they brought her some medicine, Versed,  to take which would make her "sleepy."  It made her high.  Which was so funny.  I actually have a video and will include that in my picture blog that I intend to do in the near future.  She was getting sleepy and they brought a bed to put her on.  Within a couple of minutes we were walking down the hallway.  She went right and we had to go left.  It was awful.  I bawled against Scott for a few minutes before we went out into the waiting room.  I had to have it somewhat together for Joel and Rhianna when we went out there.

So then we waited.  And to be honest, it didn't feel as long as it actually was.  We had SO many people there with us and supporting us.  My mom, Scott's mom and dad, my 2 brothers, Scott's 3 brothers, 2 sister in laws, 1 niece, 2 pastors, 1 deacon, 4 church friends and our kids.  I feel like we had a little party down there.  The chaplain's, who was our liaison to what was going on in surgery, name was Joel.  How appropriate since OUR pastor's name is Joel.   And of course my favorite 11 year old's name is also Joel.  :)  Chaplain Joel kept us updated on when the incision was done, when she was put on by pass, when she was off of by pass and when they were closing up.  He came out and took our crew up to the 4th floor where Zaia was going to be taken to.  The concierge was concerned about the size of our group and because we had 3 children in our group.  She kept telling us we needed to make sure our volume was low and the children were behaving because there were other people with "really sick kids" there.

Now....here is where I have to be completely honest.  I wanted to PUNCH that lady!!  I wanted to say "You don't know us!  You don't know how well behaved these 3 children are!  You don't know that we are all waiting to see a little girl who has just had her CHEST open and a doctor HOLDING HER HEART!! We know what "really sick kids" are!"  However, I just nodded and smiled.  Grrr...

Anyway after we all got our name tag/badges (the unit is a locked unit and anyone going in must have a badge...nurses, doctors, visitors) we sat around waiting for the man of the day, Dr. Fortuna, to come let us know how it went.  He came out and got Scott and I and took us to a room to talk to us.  Bottom line....Things went extremely well and he was very happy with the outcome.  I cried tears of joy and he said "Do you want to see her?"  Um....YEAH!!!  We went to her room and she was still asleep but she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  I took a picture because I wanted to remember her forever, but also to show the kids so they would know what to expect before going in to see her.

Zaia's nurse was Ann.  She had some papers for us and some visitor rules.  We laughed when she said the concierge would give out 4 visitors badges because our group had just been issued 14.  She chuckled and said "They aren't supposed to do that...."  Then we were allowed to have one big group visit.  So our entire family plus our deacon, Chris Bigger, came in to see her.  I think right then, the nursing staff was made aware of how much this little girl was loved. 

They kept her "sedated" the rest of that day and most of Wednesday too.  By "sedated" I mean, the meds didn't make her stay asleep but she was sleeping and tired on and off most of the time.  She did get sick Tuesday night, but that was the only time she did.  Wednesday afternoon Joel and Rhianna came to visit along with some friends from church.  Zaia was sure glad to see them.  She smiled and almost chuckled which was amazing since she had been pretty crabby most of the day.  However when they left and Nurse Ann and I started to wash Zaia off, her mood changed.  She was crying and screaming and hated us both.  Scott came right towards the end of her bath.  We were trying to get her to walk to the bathroom.  She was screaming and combative and hitting and kicking.  Ann picked her up and sat her in the chair where she continued to throw a fit.  I was in tears.  Ann mentioned that she probably never had to throw a temper tantrum before and I said "Yes she has, just never ever like this."  Ann suspected it was an adverse reaction to the sedation and turned it off.  Zaia calmed down and just laid on the chair for 5 minutes, then out of nowhere, she started crying.  Real tears of pain and sorrow.  I was crying, Scott was crying, I think Ann was almost crying.  Then she was ok.  So....for future reference, I would prefer Zaia to NEVER, EVER, EVER have Precedex again.  :)

The only pain Zaia really complained about while in the hospital was her "belly" hurting.  This was from her chest tube.  Her side also hurt her pretty badly from the chest tube.  On Thursday they were able to take that out and after she was pretty much pain free.  Earlier that morning the doctors said they suspected she would be able to go home the next day.  I was shocked.  I had fully expected Zaia to be in the hospital until Monday morning.  To be able to go home 3 days after heart surgery was astonishing to me.  Thursday evening we had lots of visitors.  We were only supposed to have 2 at a time, but at one point we had 8.  Ooops!  Joel and Rhianna were visiting and we walked down to the activity room with them.  Zaia had a good time playing and one by one a couple of her visitors came to the activity room to play as well.  We were down there for about an hour and then I convinced Zaia it was time to go back to her room.  She was really tired and fussed about walking back.  One by one our visitors said goodbye and left Zaia to have her dinner. 

Friday morning Zaia was being discharged.  Scott needed to go to work to push some meetings and get some work in so he could take the afternoon off.  Zaia and I hung out and played with some of her gifts.  The PICU was pretty busy, so they actually moved us to a different room for the morning.  It was HUGE!  I asked why we didn't get that room sooner.  Zaia said it was so big we could have had a party.  The nurse and I gave Zaia one last "sponge" bath and then it was time to take her central line out.  The child life specialist came in with the iPad (which was a wonderful tool) to distract Zaia from what was going on there on her chest/shoulder.  She cried as the nurse took it out.  It was a cute cry though because she played the games on the iPad and answered questions while crying. 

Finally it was time to leave.  We packed up her room (which was full of balloons and gifts and bags) and loaded her into the wagon.  We walked down to the circle drive and it was so amazing and surreal that it was Friday, and she had just had open heart surgery 3 days before.  We were on our way home!

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I feel so blessed by so many things it is hard to find the words.  Blessed by a God who is all knowing and all powerful and who would hold me through all the turbulence that I felt.  Blessed by a pediatrician who didn't overlook a heart murmur 3 years ago.  Blessed by a cardiologist who was on top of her condition and who treats us just as tenderly as he treats our daughter.  Blessed to have a premier pediatric cardiothoracic surgeon who not only knows the anatomy of hearts, but has a big one himself.  Blessed to live 10 minutes from an amazing children's hospital.  Blessed to have wonderful nurses and doctors on staff at said hospital who took care of Zaia as if she were their own.  Most of all,  we are so blessed to have a biological family and family of friends who care so deeply for each one of us.  We felt every prayer, appreciated every card, adored every gift and felt honored by the numerous visits we had. 

Thank you all for everything you've done.  I am so pleased to say that this is behind us and Zaia is already getting back to her normal, sassy self.  And I cherish every minute of it.

Getting back to normal....

We are getting back to normal here at the Wilcoxon home.  And it's nice.  I have started to write a blog all about Zaia's hospital stay and my emotions and what happened and all the deets, but I haven't finished it.  I want to finish it, but to be honest, I have been wrapped up in Zaia and her heart for so long, it is nice to honestly not worry or think about it.  I promise I WILL finish it and I will also post a blog that is all the pictures.

But for now, I am just doing nothing and it is wonderful.  The kids have decided we needed a Christmas fireplace and have turned on the "Holiday Fire" DVD.  So they are playing and listening to "Jingle Bells" inside while there is a heat advisory outside. 

Why not?!

Day 3

So long, farewell....to rest at HOME!!!

Day 2

Zaia is doing better today.  She has walked to the bathroom and back to bed.  She ate some of her breakfast.  She has had a pain in her right side, quite severe at times, but they just took her chest tube and pacing wires out so I think that pain will go away.  Currently she is quietly watching Spongebob.  Mom thinks she should nap, but she'll take resting too.  ;)

The goals for today is to walk the halls and make it to the activity room.  There is a 2 year old girl next door who had the same surgery and Zaia is dying to play with her.  Maybe that will work out later.  The docs mentioned the "home" word, however I think I will wait until we are packing bags and signing papers to believe it.

I am a little overwhelmed at the thought of taking her home.  Of course I want her there and not here, but I want to make certain she is well enough to be there.

Day 1

So here I am louging at the Children's Hospital of Illinois.  Zaia fell asleep watching "Tangled" so I took the opportunity to steal her tv and blog.  (The INTERNET is on her tv!)

Zaia had a good night.  After a bout of sickness she slept ok.  She woke up a couple of times, but only when Nurse Kim was messing with her.  :)  She did ask to watch "Despicable Me" but only got about 20 minutes of it before falling back to sleep. 

Doc was in this morning listening to her MURMUR FREE heart and said everything looked and sounded good.  It is crazy that the only symptom she ever had was, as her pediatrician put it, an "impressive" murmur and it is now gone.

Praise God for the healing that only he can do and for the knowledge he has allows us humans to have. 

Surgery Day

My alarm went off 11 minutes ago but I have been wide awake for well over an hour. 
Fear is Satan's toy...Through Christ I am strengthened. 
We can do this.   I can do this.
                                 ~5:11 am
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My baby has been under the care of God and the doctors for 2 hours now.  We just heard that she is on bypass.  i have lost it a couple of times, but that is to be expected.  We have a WONDERFUL support system here in the waiting room.  All of Scott's brothers and their wives, all of our parents,my brothers,wonderful friends from church...we couldn't ask for more support.
                  ~10:24 am      
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My head has always known, but my heart couldn't feel until now.  My baby is ok.  She will be ok.  The next couple of days will be hard.  I mean HARD. She is going to hurt and she will have to do things that will hurt her.  She will cry and I probably will too.  That's ok.  Because God will guide us both and it will be all good.  =)
               ~7:40 pm
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Terr..i..fied

A few weeks ago 2 very awesome women, who have no idea who the other one is, both sent me this verse.

2 Timothy 1:7 For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.

Obviously God really wanted me to hear it.  And I do hear it.  However, I am still TERR...I...FIED.  Terrified. 

We are headed into the week before Zaia's surgery and I am scared to death.  I am afraid she will hurt...alot.  I am afraid that I won't have the words to comfort her.  I am afraid I will show her how frightened I am and scare her.  I am afraid I will show her brother and sister how frightened I am and scare them.  I am afraid in my fear I will push my husband away (because I am good at that).  I am afraid she will get sick and they will push the surgery and I will have to wait again.  I am afraid something will go wrong and they won't be able to fix her.  I am afraid something will go wrong and she will be "scarred" for life.  I am afraid something will go wrong and she will go....

I know all the statistics and that this is a pretty straightforward surgery.  Well as straightforward as open heart surgery can go.  I know she has an amazing surgeon who can do miracles.  I know this because I have seen it happen in the life of a little Honduran girl who came to OUR hospital to fixed by OUR surgeon and he fixed her and she is fine.  I know God has a plan and whatever happens it is good. 

But my heart and my head don't always meet up.  As a matter of fact, my head and heart fight....alot.  My head knows all this smart stuff and rattles it off to my heart.  But my heart just screams 

She is my BABY!!  SHE IS MY BABY!!!

She is my baby and I would lay under that knife on that operating table 1,000,000 times just so she doesn't have to. 

So please dear Lord, give me the power to be calm.  Calm for Zaia.  Calm for Joel and Rhianna.  Calm for Scott.  Calm for myself.  Give me the power to not only know, but to KNOW that all of this is for your glory.  Lord let me feel your love that has always washed over me and that has never, and will never stop. Let that love overflow to all who surround me so they too, may feel it.  And Lord please give me the self-discipline to not eat every ounce of food in my house as I prepare emotionally for the next few weeks.

Father's Day

Father's Day is bittersweet for me.  It is a day to celebrate your dad and give him presents and spend the day with him and thank him for being a great dad.  But since I don't have my dad here to do those things, it makes me very sad and I want to say "Fooey" on the whole thing.  However, I can't do that.  Why?  Because it isn't fair to a different very special Dad in my life....my husband.  See last year was my first fatherless Father's day and I couldn't even look at a father's day card without tearing up.  So my children made their own for Scott and that was pretty much all that was done.  Anyone else might have gotten upset or hurt over this, but not Scott.  He completely understood and had no problem.  Besides what is better than handmade cards?

However, this year, as painful as it may be, I am going to celebrate Father's Day.  I am going to celebrate it for the best dad in the world...Scott.



Prom 98...probably youngest picture I have of Scott



When Scott became a dad, he was clueless.  Truly, we both were, but he was especially clueless.  It isn't that hard to believe because how many 18 year old boys do YOU know who can change diapers and heat bottles and feed a baby and bathe a baby and can even HOLD a baby?  He certainly didn't know how to do any of that.  But he did.  He didn't mind a 2 am feeding.  He actually made use of it.  Once when Joel was a baby Scott was up with him in the night.  There was nothing on tv, but infomercials so while he was feeding Joel he taught himself to say the alphabet backwards.  And yes...he can still do it.  (I know...weird!) 

Scott also had a weird connection with Joel.  He could get him to calm down almost instantly by singing to him.  Singing what?  Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?  Nah...Mary Had a Little Lamb?  Nope.  Maybe it was Frere Jacques?  No can do.  It was either "Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers or "Bad to the Bone."  No joke.  Joel LOVED them and would calm down as soon as Scott started in.  Note...Scott started in...Mama couldn't do it, it took Daddy. 

Rhianna was a daddy's girl from day one.  Unlike Joel (who didn't like me enough), I was able to nurse Rhianna.  Scott was on board but was bummed because he really wanted to be able to feed her. I was able to pump one bottle a day.  It was used at 3 am for a nighttime Daddy/Daughter feeding.  One of my favorite memories of Scott and Rhianna is when she was so little.  She would sleep with her head on Scott's chest, her little baby butt up in the air with her legs tucked under her on Scott's stomach.  She would fall asleep instantly.

 



When Zaia came along, I didn't know how Scott would be able to work having TWO daughters.  I mean, can you be wrapped around 2 little fingers?  The answer is OH YEAH!!  Zaia is a full on love girl and her number one target is Daddy.  She loves to climb on him and hang on him and hug and kiss him. 

Scott is an amazing father.  He has always been right there in the trenches.  He has been pooped on, peed on, puked on, cried on, snotted on and of course, loved on.  Scott is a great dad, but of course how could he not be?  He is just an overgrown kid himself...

The day of my birth....

For some reason I am that girl who has a hard time with numbers.  Not math, although it kicks my butt too, but birthday numbers.  You know "Oh my gosh I can't believe I am turning XYZ!"  Yup...that is me.  And how annoying.  I just want to be all cool about it and let it roll off my back, but I just can't.  I fret and deny and want to avoid the number.  Be aware, that I don't want to let the actual BIRTHDAY go to waste.  I am too much of a princess to not embrace a day that is ALL mine.  A day that I get to say "Hey!  You do what I want because it's MY day."  A day when I can get a Dairy Queen ice cream cake even though I know my children won't eat it (what?!) and not feel guilty because it's MY DAY!!  A day when I get presents and people plaster awesome messages all over my Facebook wall.  No...I will not give that up.  However, I just don't want the number.

And why not?  It's just a number.  My great grandma used to say "It isn't how old you are, it's how old you feel."  Sure that is a good thing to live by.  Except for those days when this 30 year old girl feels 50.  But it has always been a thing for me.  When I was younger I was excited about birthday numbers.  "Oh yea!  I am two hold hands!!"  Or "13! I am finally a teenager!"  Or "I get to drive!! Hooray for 16!"  And so on...until 25.  I had a hard time with 25.  Maybe because most of my friends were just starting careers and families.  Or maybe not starting families.  And here I was married for 7 years with 3 kids.  I don't want you to think I am complaining.  I am BLESSED to have that husband and 3 kids.  They are all amazing and make life worth living.  However....25 with all that seemed...well it seemed like I was OLD.  

Now, here I am 5 years later at 30 and I have been married almost 12 years with an 11.5 year old, a 7 year old and a 5 year old.  It just makes a girl feel....OLD.  Ugh.....

So for the next month or so, I will still say I am 29ish, or 29 with a year of experience or some other cute moniker.  Then I will just break down and admit to my glorious age of 30. 

Big Day....UPDATE

So today is a big day.  Finally.  Scott, Zaia and I get to meet with her surgeon.  Since April, we have been anxious to have this appointment.  Well, I have been anxious.  Scott is laid back and confident in most everything that goes on, and Zaia doesn't really understand this appointment, so yes, it is I who is anxious.

I am anxious to have a date for surgery.  I am anxious about what all surgery entails.  I am anxious about how Zaia is going to do.  I am anxious for Joel who is a worry wort and how he will deal and feel with it.  I am anxious for Rhianna who I had no idea was worried about it until a few weeks ago.  She commented to someone that she shares a room with Zaia and if the "Doctor can't fix her, then she might die and I will sleep alone."  

Um...how do you tell a 7 year old that her little sister, whom she doesn't remember life without, is NOT going to die.  And how do you say that with 100% confidence, when that is the one thought you FORCE yourself to push to the bottom of the emotion barrel because it is too hard to even try to think about?  And how do you prepare yourself for your child's open heart surgery and her as well when we both were in tears over stinking SHOTS?

I know the answer.  Lean on Him.  Lean on Him and give it to Him.  But I have to say it is HARD for me to do.  At least all the way...You know I got that 'lean in but still be on my feet' thing down, but for this I do believe it will take a more 'You carry me and I will just lie there in Your arms' approach.  I am not so good with that. 

While I don't believe I am a control freak, I do have controlling tendencies.  And that 'give it ALL to God' thing trips me up. 

So all of this to say....Pray for me.  Pray for Zaia.  Pray for Joel.  Pray for Rhianna.  Pray for Scott.  Pray for Dr. Fortuna (her surgeon).  Pray.   Pray that I may willingly and easily give all of this to God.  Pray that this will be as "fun" and easy as it could be for Zaia.  Pray that Joel will also give his worries to God and have peace that his sister will be fine.  Pray that Rhianna's big adult fears will be taken from her and she can just be 7.  Pray for Scott as he is such a rock and will need so much strength to hold us together.  Pray for Dr. Fortuna that his decisions are God's decisions and we are all on the same page.
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UPDATE

After our appointment, I feel less anxious!  Dr. Fortuna was very nice and informative.  He made sure that Scott and I understood just exactly what was going to happen and that we understood it all.  He was glad to hear that we have researched it and had some knowledge so we could understand and be "ok" with everything.

So the big day is scheduled for July 5.  Yup, July 5.  We will do family fun fireworks on the fourth (say that 3 times fast) and heart surgery on the 5.  I told Scott that is perfect timing.  Not too soon, but not too far away either.  Zaia will have pre-op testing on June 30 and that same day we will tour the hospital and talk with the child life specialist.  Joel and Rhianna will go with us that day.  They are excited because I told them they could ask as many questions as they need to. 

Gardening and Evangelism

I had a conversation with someone a while back about gardening.  You know, plants and flowers and lovely yards.  (If you know me, you would have read that in a sing songy sarcastic voice.  If you didn't read it correctly the first time, I encourage you to go back and read it right.)  I hate gardening.  Don't get me wrong, I like flowers.  I like to look at them, and when it is pleasant, I like to smell them.  However...I have no desire to spend $800 down at Lowe's to trek in plants and dirt and pretty rocks and weed killer and rakes and shovels and seeds.  I have no desire to waste a perfectly perfect Saturday on my hands and knees in dirt, digging and planting and pulling weeks.  <------THAT, sounds WAY too much like work to me.  And work does NOT belong on my Saturdays.   See here for proof. 

So anyway...back to the conversation.  I was talking about how I "love" to garden and that is why our wonderfully landscaped backyard, is not so wonderfully landscaped anymore. 

Back story...We bought our house from people who LOVED to garden.  And not the way I love to garden, but the way a....well...a, uh...person who loves...to...garden...loves gar..den..ing.   Anyway...There were 2 ponds and tons of rosebushes and other random flowers and different grasses and I think some small trees, or I don't know what all.  I just know that none of it came back the way it looked when we moved in.  Which means, it was all very high maintenance.  Ew.  The ponds were taken out immediately (We had small children.  I didn't need any drowning incidents.) The grasses have been mowed over, the 75 hostas are no more, the rosebushes have been hacked at (although, there is some right outside the window that I currently see.  Haven't seen any roses in 2 years, so surprise on me) and the only real left overs are the bleeding hearts which are no maintenance and I adore. 

This person was shocked.  "You mean you just tore it all out?"  She was full on disgusted with this idea and I was like "Yup.  Sure did."  Then I was informed of all the wonderful plants that are so easy to grow and how you don't have to do anything except for plant them.  And in my head I added, "yeah and water them, and not mow over them, and make sure the animals aren't eating them and, and, and, 100 other things that I don't want to waste my Saturdays on."  So I did the polite thing.  I nodded my head and looked interested while my brain tape just kept saying "Blah Blah Blah.  Is this conversation over yet?"

Later I was replaying this in my mind and I had a thought....Do we evangelize the way people talk to me about gardening?

I mean really....When we find out someone isn't a Christian, or has a different world view than us, do we try to change them and make them "right?"  Do we look at them in disgust as if what is wrong with you? You don't know how awesome I am?  Here let me give you a list of how I can make you better.  And I say "we" because, let me be honest and frank.  I don't evangelize.  I am not against it, actually I whole heartedly believe it is something I should be doing.  I just don't.  I am afraid of doing it.  I am afraid that people will look at me the way I look at them when they are talking to me about gardening.

*Head bob*  Yeah, that sounds nice.  Wow, I didn't know that.  *Blah blah blah.  Is this conversation over yet?*

SO maybe I am just rambling, but maybe instead of trying to convert, and make others right, we should take a page from...oh I don't know...maybe JESUS and just love people.  Just love people.   Wow.  That doesn't sound much easier....

I think this though has evolved into a different blog.  Once which I will save for another day....

Grief, Guilt and all that goes with it

This afternoon I am off accompanied by my three children to Clinton, Ky.  It's a small town in Western Ky.  Very homey.  I like it.  Unfortunately we are not going for a vacation.  We are going because my Grandmother died last Thursday night at the age of 93.

I am having LOTS of mixed emotions.  Of course I am sad, but I can't help but be excited for her.  She gets to live with JESUS.  Jesus ya'll!  No more pain, or hard time getting around.  No more 4 walls of a nursing home caging her in.  She gets to skip and run and laugh all the way to Jesus' feet!  Plus, in my Heaven, you remember your loved ones and have a grand party whenever.  Which means Granddaddy met her with open arms and overalls. 

But the worst emotion I am feeling right now is jealousy.  Jealousy for my kids.  I had almost 30 years with both my grandmas in my life.  I had 15 years with one grandpa and 13 with the other.  I even got time with my great grandparents.  But my children only had 3, 4, 9 years with their grandpa.  THREE YEARS.  FOUR YEARS.  NINE YEARS.    And all that I wrote in that last paragraph applies to my dad too.  But you know what my reaction is.

FOOEY!

Fooey...because 61 is TOO young.  3 is NOT an appropriate age to lose your Papaw.  28 is NOT an appropriate age to bury your father.

And I feel so GUILTY.  I feel guilty because I should be grieving for Grandmother.  I should be reflecting on her life and all the memories with her.  And all I see is my dad.  All I hear is his last words to me.  All I feel is this HOLE that my DADDY filled up and it is empty.

So yeah.  At times I feel as if I have grieved and moved on.  I can talk about Dad and not bawl.  I can laugh at him and his horrendous spelling.  I can see pictures and smile.  But then there are times when the mention of his name brings torrential amounts of tears.  Watching a video and hearing his voice, and I am hurting and aching just like the day he died. 

So as I am attending my grandmother's visitation and funeral and visiting with family I haven't seen in so long, I will be thankful for her long life.  I will be thankful for years and years with 4 children, 10 grandchildren, 24 great grandchildren and 1 great great grandchild.  I will be joyous that she is living it up in Heaven, partying with Jesus.  But I will also, secretly, be harboring my anger and jealousy that my dad didn't do those things.  And hopefully I will be able to work on those feelings.  But to be honest.  Not now.  Maybe next week or next month.  But not today.  And not tomorrow.  *Sigh*  Bare with my God, I am still just a child in need of your guidance and patience.

BOOBS I tell you...BOOBS!!

I have had more than one person ask me about how I was doing because Zaia will be going to kindergarten in the fall.  It makes me sad, but to be honest, I am not thinking about it much because I have bigger fish to fry.

Joel is going to be attending the middle school next year.  Yes, you know, JUNIOR HIGH.  As in, pimples and hormones and...well...BOOBS!

No, not for Joel, but on others.  You know, the GIRLS. 

I just (and by just, I mean, like 90 seconds ago) dropped him off for his first dance.  Yes...DANCE.  The student council at the middle school is hosting a dance for 5th through 8th grade.  A sort of "hello" to the 5th graders coming into the school and a "goodbye" to the 8th graders leaving for high school.  *Shutter* 

Don't get me wrong, I am excited for him.  I LOVED dances.  I was (maybe still am...) into all the drama that could come out of it.  "I am in LOVE with him but he won't even say HELLO!!!  We are supposed to be friends!  What a jerk!" or "Why does that guy keep standing by me.  I don't even like him!" or "Oh my god Becky.  Look at her butt..."  Oh wait...I never said that...Just DANCED TO IT!!!! 

So yeah....I REALLY don't believe that 1)my son is old enough to go through all those emotions (He's just a little BOY!!!) and more importantly 2) I am old enough to be the mother of someone going through all those emotions (I am YOUNG!! YOUNG I say!!).

So yeah...I just dropped him off for his first dance and he was so excited.  And I am excited for him....as I watched those girls with their BOOBS follow behind him.   Oy vey!

Stay Tuned

I have had lots of thoughts and wanted to blog many, many times in the past week.  I just haven't.  I have three or four good blogs partly worked out in my brain.  I just haven't made the time to finish them.  I have been preoccupied.

Sorry.

However, this is my "Next week on....." message.  I still am not taking the time to work them out.  But I promise when I do, you might be bombarded with blogs.  So for now.....Stayed tuned.

Words like weapons

I told myself I wasn't going to blog about this.  I told Scott I wasn't going to blog about this.  But here I am...blogging about this. 

First off, I will warn you that I am about to be vague.  And I have a hard time being vague, so if this makes no sense, I am sorry.  Just say "hey there crazy lady" and move on. 

Has someone ever said something to you and it felt like a dagger right to your soul?  Has anyone ever said words that pierced your heart as no sword could?  Even worse, have you done it?  Even worser (I know, I know...bad grammar) have you done it and not realized it?

Words are so handy.  They can be the best band aid Johnson & Johnson ever came up with.  They can lift you out of a cold dark place like no rope ever could.  They can be the light at the end of the long tunnel.  They can be the icing on an already delicious 7 layer cake. 

Words can also be weapons.  Weapons that you have sharpened and sharpened and had a plan when to whip them out and use them.  They can be so carefully crafted that they slice the target in half in one smooth swoosh.  They can also be the pistol that you may keep for "safety" and never really plan on using.  Until one day, one hour, one minute you whip it out and shoot it.  Right into the heart of someone you love.

This happened to me today.  Words that were so sharp and so painful that I didn't quite feel the severity of it until later.  Later when I looked at myself and said "Hey!  There is blood here!"  Words that twisted and burrowed their way deep into my heart.  Words that had not been said to hurt me, but none the less, they did.

I was/am so hurt, yet I almost feel...guilty.  Guilty because I know these words weren't meant to hurt me and so I shouldn't feel the hurt.  After all, these words were just an expression of someone else's frustrations.  Even if those frustrations included me.  Also because...gulp...how many times have I said words, sharpened pointy words, that have pierced others' hearts.  Other big hearts and even, little hearts.  Oh how I pray that those hearts that I have pierced with my weapons have healed and healed correctly.  I pray that the scars aren't visible or felt.  I pray that an amazing Surgeon was able to heal the hurt that my words may have caused.  I pray that I will be more cautious with my weapons.  My eyes more wide open to the damage my words can do.  I also pray that the amazing Surgeon will heal my heart and keep the ugly vindictive weapons that the enemy is stewing for me away.  Away from my mouth so that I will not use my words for weapons.

Holy Glasses Batman!

Today Zaia had her required Kindergarten eye exam.  About 3 years or so ago the state of Illinois passed a law requiring students entering Kindergarten to get an eye exam from an eye doctor.  Not just the generic one the pediatricians have, but a big one.  So today was the day Zaia went.  I had a deja vu feeling as we were JUST in that office last Monday morning.  The verdict?  Zaia gets glasses!!!  At 5!  How weird?!  She never even seemed to act like she ever needed glasses.  She doesn't sit too close to anything and doesn't squint.  Dr. Tim (as we have begun to call him) said that she probably never knew any different and so didn't know that her vision was "bad."  She is farsighted, meaning she can't see things close up.  I mentioned 35 minutes into her exam when she was getting fidgety, that she is our child with the short attention span.  After he finished up, he brought that back up.  He said that because her eyes were straining when she was doing something close up (coloring, reading, table work, etc) she probably just got tired quicker and that is why she didn't stick with it for very long.   Huh.  Nice to know!  He actually said lots of children are misdiagnosed with ADD when they really just need glasses!  Amazing!  Who knew?  I certainly didn't.  Zaia picked out pinkish reddish frames (of course...what else would Ms. Zaia, fashion extraordinaire, pick?) and she looked so cute.  She tried on about 10 different frames and would say "I look like you Mommy!" Which of course, I agreed.  She did. 

So 2 kids and 2 pairs of glasses within a week of each other.  Stay tuned for more of "As Anessa's Hair Falls Out"!! 

Week that will not end...UPDATE!

So it has been 2 days since my plate was heaped full.  Today some was taken off.  Praise God!

I got a call yesterday that there was a cancellation in the neurologist's office that Joel was being referred to so he was able to see the doctor this morning.  After an hour an a half of different eye tests, including 2 on me, the verdict was in.  The doc didn't see anything to alert him to anything bad.  He believes Joel's eyes and optic nerves are fine.  We made a 6 month follow up appointment just to compare and with that we were out the door.  Whoo Hoo!!!  There is one huge answered prayer.

As far as Zaia is concerned, we will know more in a couple of weeks.  After allowing the news to sink in and a couple of bouts of tears, I believe I am ready to move forward though.  In my mind, the perfect time for Zaia's surgery would be over the summer.  June or July, if that isn't too much to ask.  That way she would be healed and just fine to start Kindergarten in late August right on time.  However, as we have found out, God and I don't always have the same watch.  So I pray that I find His Rolex or he finds my Swatch. 

"Here you go Anessa..."

"Here you go Anessa..." and with those 4 words, God handed me a full plate today. 

I know God is faithful and I know He does all things in His perfect timing, but sometimes I just wish His watch and my watch were on the same time.

Today I had 2 doctors appointments for kids.  Not a huge deal, but 2 appointments.  Joel had an eye appointment this morning where I knew he would be getting glasses.  This is a good thing.  He has been squinting and not able to read road signs for about a month or so.  No big deal.  We went and he had his exam, and we found out what I already had suspected.  His right eye is REALLY bad, and his left eye has been "carrying" him along.  Then a last minute "test" and the Dr. used the microscope to look at his eyes.  "To see how healthy they are," was what he said.  He looked and looked and looked and looked.  Then he turned the lights back on to tell me what he saw.  Joel's optic nerves are not the same size.  What? Who knew that was even a possibility?  So then he took Joel down the hall to take a 3D image of his optic nerves.  This was really cool.  But this is rare, so the doctor wanted to talk to the other doctor while we went to pick out frames for Joel.  He picked out these super cool looking wire frames.  He looks so old and smart with glasses!  Then the docs came out to talk to me.  Because this is rare, they are referring us to neurologist.  The doc believes it is congenital (meaning Joel was just born this way) and it isn't a big deal.  However they are being proactive and making sure there really isn't anything wrong.  Ugh.....So...On my way to take Joel back to school I silently let tears stream down my cheeks.  I am Mama Hen and I can't let them see there is any concern.  And to be honest I don't think there is anything wrong with Joel.  He gets straight As and has never had any issues what so ever.  However...when a doctor refers you to a neurologist, you panic a little.  At least I did. 

So....Fast forward to our second doctor appointment.  This one was for Zaia.  This one ALWAYS makes me nervous and I usually fret over it for weeks.  For those of you who may not know, Zaia was diagnosed with sub aortic stenosis when she was 2 years old.  This means that there is a membrane, or extra skin, growing below her aortic valve.  She has been getting echocardiograms once a year since her diagnosis.  They have been watching to see if the membrane is growing and if her heart is working harder than it should.  We have known since that first appointment that the only fix to this is surgery.  Her second appointment was when it was explained that the surgery will be open heart.  Let me pause to tell you that Zaia's cardiologist is a wise, wise man.  He knew to wait to tell me the open heart part until the second appointment because he knew that he would have had a crazy lunatic mom laid out on his floor had he told me at that first appointment.  I was already in shock that he just told me this murmur that I had convinced myself was nothing, was actually a very real, something.  So anyway, every year we go for an echo, or "jelly on my belly" as Zaia says, to check everything out.  After the unexpected news from Joel's appt this morning, I prayed that Zaia's check up would be routine and would end with a "see you next year."  Sigh...God did NOT follow through with my wishes.

Dr. Hasselman said....Zaia's heart is working fine and isn't overworking or anything.  However, the membrane has grown and in doing so, her aortic valve is leaking a little.  Please don't ask what that means, because I don't know.  I was too busy waiting for the next words to fall out of his mouth.  She needs to have it fixed.  Big Sigh, followed by tears. 

I have known that this day would come.  I have known that this day would come for 3.5 years.  I just never knew when it would come and I don't think you can ever be prepared for it.  Nothing really prepares you for "Your 5 year old will have open heart surgery this year."  Nothing.  So....God in all His wisdom heaped my plate full today.  But you know what?  You know what only God could do?  He could make our pastor and his wife be sitting in the waiting room as we walked out.  Unbeknownst to any of us, we all had appointments for our youngest child on the same day.  So just when I needed a hug and a "it'll be ok" I had it. 

So, right now I have no real definitive answers on dates for Zaia, just that within 6 months she will have her surgery.  I have no idea of what is to happen with Joel.  I know one thing.  Rhianna better stay healthy!!  My plate is super full....or at least I think it is.  Let's hope God agrees with me.