Walking On Eggshells

     We’ve all had that person in our life, right?  You know, the one that you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around. You tiptoe around conversations in hopes of avoiding setting them off.  You think really hard about what you want to say so that you don’t end up getting their wrath upon you for saying the wrong thing.  Being around them is super stressful and you try to avoid it at all cost. Did someone in particular just pop into your head?  You know who they are even though they have no clue that they are that person.  It sucks having someone like that in your life. Especially when you are told that you can’t say or do certain things around them so you don’t set them off. Especially when you realize that everyone that comes in contact with this person is walking on eggshells too. It’s exhausting and annoying and stressful.  Who wants a life lived walking on eggshells?  Been there, done that, got the t-shirt,  not planning on going back thank you very much. 

      Now here’s a shocker.... my kids don’t always speak kindly to one another.  Wait, let me rephrase that.  My kids rarely speak kindly to one another.  My youngest two know how to push each other’s buttons like professionals playing a poker slot machine. They love to tell each other no when asked for something by the other.  When asked to not do something by the other they for some reason think it’s Opposite Day and do it anyway.  I am often saying, “respect the ask”  and  “respect the no”.  I am rarely heard.  I can hear all you parents out there shaking your heads because you know exactly what I’m talking about.  It’s annoying as heck isn’t it?  

     Gillian gets involved in this too. They both know how to push her buttons as well. The other day in the car she had a Starbucks and Emma asked for a drink and Gillian told her “no”.  Then Nolan asked for a drink and well because he’s Nolan she said “of course!” and gave him a drink. This irritated Emma and cracked Nolan up.  Well Nolan being the clever boy that he is asked Gillian if he could hold her Starbucks and she happily obliged.  He then proceeded to hand it to Emma so she could get a drink. Nolan and Emma were both cracking up hysterically at his cleverness and Gillian was pissed and immediately ripped her drink out of Emma’s hands. I have to admit, it was very clever and kind what he had done, but I had to point out that he did not respect Gillian’s no and he wasn’t to do it again.  Remember how I said I was rarely heard?  Ya.  He did it again and this time Gillian was furious when she went to grab her drink back and of course it ended up all over the car and crazy mom came out with her fire and fury.  “Why would you do that again?!  Why would you push her buttons like that?  This is exactly why I told you to not do it!”  Nolan and Emma both had grumpy looks on their faces. I could tell that they were so irritated that this sister of theirs was causing issues again and they felt like they were being blamed for it. 

      The fire and fury subsided after a few minutes and  everyone in the car was completely quiet.  I suddenly started having flashbacks to being around my eggshell person.  The feelings I felt inside were horrible.  I hated walking on eggshells and now it sounds like I’m making my kids walk on eggshells around their sister so as to not set her off.  I don’t want to do this to my kids. I don’t want them to feel this way.  Breath.  Just breath. Calm down and rethink this.   You are not going to allow your kids to have an eggshell childhood. No one wants to live in that fear.   No kid wants those kinds of memories. 

      I finally calmed down and talked like a sane parent to my kids. “You guys, I’m sorry for losing my cool.  I know it sounds like I’m asking you to walk on eggshells around your sister so she doesn’t freak out.  That’s not at all what I am asking. I’m asking that we all respect each other and what each person is saying.  I’m asking that when Nolan tells you no to something Emma you don’t get all offended and selfish but that you respect his no. Nolan, I’m asking that when Emma tells you to stop doing something that instead of being mean and continue doing it, you respect her ask and stop.  I’m asking that we all respect each other and each other’s words.  I’m also asking that when we know someone is in a bad mood or having a bad day we show some grace to them and love on them instead of pushing their buttons and making them mad.  I’m not getting mad here because you upset Gillian, I’m mad because you don’t respect each other and treat one another kindly.  So please please please know that I am not at all asking you to walk on eggshells when you’re around Gillian. I’m asking us all to respect one another. Does that make sense?”  As I spoke I could see their faces become less irritated.  I could see their anger soften and understanding coming through.  They both nodded their heads that they got what I was saying and then they both apologized to Gillian. 

       I don’t ever want my kids to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around their special needs sister or around each other.  I don’t want them to live in fear of setting her off. I don’t want them to think they have to have that kind of responsibility. I do want my kids to know that they have to respect people’s words and treat people kindly and extend grace to one another when necessary.  Their actions and words are their responsibility and that is what I want them to remember from their childhood when they are adults.  

The Aftermath

    This past week with Gillian without her “stuff” has been mostly great. We’ve had a few breakdowns and tantrums over “stuff” but she has recovered quickly.   She actually seems happier and less stressed now that she doesn’t have a bunch of junk to worry about.  Before this whole ordeal of taking everything away, she wasn’t that great. She hadn’t been eating that well, her anxiety levels were through the roof and our home felt like we had no peace in it. We were all at the end of our ropes and barely hanging on.  Since Monday she has been eating like a normal person should eat.  Which I think helps with being happy. Her anxiety levels are slowly diminishing and we are all feeling a sense of peace in our home. On Friday Gillian sat in the kitchen with me while I was food prepping for the week and we listened to music, had a dance party and laughed.  I haven’t enjoyed being around this child in so long.  My heart was so very happy.  On Friday nights we always go out for family dinner just the five of us and lately Gillian either didn’t want to go or she’d go and have a meltdown and we’d all be miserable. This past Friday night she was excited to go with us, ate all her dinner and was a joy to be around. It was a perfect family dinner out. Can’t remember the last time we had one of those. 

   Bottom line here is is that the “stuff” was weighing her down. The “stuff” had her so occupied that she couldn’t think about anything other than her “stuff”. Not even eating. She couldn’t enjoy life because all that “stuff” kept getting in the way.  Now that the “stuff” is gone she is free to enjoy her life and food and her family! Without her “stuff” she can now experience peace. 

   Can we just take a moment here and replace all the above “stuff” words and replace it with “sin”?  

-  Bottom line here is is that our “sin” is weighing us down. Our “sin” has us so occupied that we can’t think about anything other than our “sin”. Not even eating. We can’t enjoy life because all our “sin” keeps getting in the way.  Once our “sin” is gone we are free to enjoy our lives and food and our families. Without our “sin “ we can experience peace.-

   That “sin” space can be filled with a number of different things- An addiction (food, drugs, shopping, porn, gaming, sex, Netflix binging, etc...), laziness, gossiping, sinful anger (there is righteous anger but that’s now what I’m talking about here), judgment, and more. The bottom line is that sin keeps us from God and from enjoying Him.  Just like Gillian’s “stuff” kept her from enjoying her life. We become so preoccupied with our sin, whether it’s doing the sinful act or trying to hide the sin so others don’t know about it. It keeps us focused on it rather then being focused on Christ, the One who already paid the horrific debt for that sin. The One who’s waiting for you to let the sin go so you can enjoy the freedom he ransomed Himself for!  

   So let me ask you this, what can you put in that “stuff” blank?  What sin is weighing you down and keeping you from enjoying life?  What sin has you so preoccupied that you can’t see anything past it?  

Matthew 11:28-30 says “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

    Lay down your “stuff” at the cross and take up the yoke of Christ.  He wants to give you rest from the burdens of the sin you’ve been carrying around. 

————————————

The Real Vacation- Finale

      As soon as Gillian realized the “stuff” was gone she came after me. She always come after me first. I’m the one she spends the most time with so I’m her safety person.  She was all up in my face asking where her stuff was.  My heart was racing and my breathing was short.  “I don’t know how I am going to deal with this”.  Howie came into the room and pulled her out and War World 5 started.  The kids and I stayed in the bedroom and shut the door while Howie worked on defusing the bomb, I mean Gillian, in the other room.  It was a tense stand-off that lasted almost 20 minutes.  Once we could safely leave the room we gathered up our bags and headed to the car and took off for the beach. The whole way there all we heard from Gillian was “where’s my blanket. Where’s my pillow. Where’s my Santa picture. Where’s my lipstick. Where’s my purse. Where’s my umbrella. Where’s my phone.” Over and over and over and over and over again.  She was a broken record.  There was also spitting and stomping going on in the back seat.  We made sure the doors were locked and the window locks were in place because you never know with her.

     We got to the beach and got all of our chairs and the blanket set out. Gillian sat in the chair next me, Emma sat on the blanket and the boys went for a walk down the beach. I exhaled. This was nice and I just knew Gillian was going to be happy because she loves the beach.   We could finally all relax and enjoy our time together as a family.  “Gillian don’t throw the sand”. “Gillian stop spitting”. Dang it, I exhaled to soon!   Next thing I know she has taken the two largest handfuls of sand known to man and thrown them all over Emma.  Then she gets up and throws her chair across the beach.   Fortunately, the boys were close enough for me to call them back to help out. We got Gillian calmed down again and then helped Emma get the sand out of her hair, off her back, shoulders and neck and out of her purse.  We decided to have a bit of a laugh over this one because my motto is “you either laugh or cry” and at this point in our trip we had done way too much crying. So we laughed. 

    I felt so bad for Emma and  I decided that she and I needed to take a stroll down the beach by ourselves.  Off we went. This was nice. This was calm. This was quiet. I love spending one on one time with this child of mine. I think we walked about 30 feet before I heard Gillian screaming at me from behind. “Wait!  Wait!  Come back!  Stop right now!”  Then I hear Howie, “You have a stalker. You’d better run!”  I looked at Emma, we both smiled and I said “run!”. So Emma and I took off running down the beach cracking up laughing with Gillian running behind trying to catch up.  We didn’t get very far because it’s really hard to run fast when you are laughing hysterically. Gillian got so mad that she walked into the water and got all wet and almost lost her shoes.  “Reality discipline” is what my friend called it!  We had a good laugh over Gillian’s tantrum this time. I think that’s what we all needed.  

      We ended up walking the beach together as a family and enjoying ourselves.  We were able to go have lunch without any craziness and decided it would be best to skip the park and head home early after all the Wars we had fought.  The ride home was peaceful and full of great music and singing. We came exhausted but we came home as a family that continues to walk the journey together relying on Christ to get us through each crazy moment of every crazy day. 

      This, my friends, was the Real Vacation. The behind the scenes of all those happy vacation pictures.  The moments between the smiles for the camera. Isn’t it funny how we all do that?  (It actually isn’t funny at all. It’s sad) It’s like wmhen you are yelling at your kids and then the phones rings and you answer it sounding like mother Theresa.  “Hello.  Oh hi!  How are you?  I’m doing great. Life is wonderful. Thanks for asking”. You hang up the phone and the exorcist comes back out at your kids.  The next time you look at someone’s happy social media photos just remember that you only have to smile for a split second to get that photo.  

-My sweet daughter Emma and I with a photobomb by Nolan-

The Real Vacation- Part 3

(Who knew that a 24 hour trip to Monterey could turn into a 4 part mini series?!)

    Everyone woke up in a decent mood on Sunday. (I say decent because we do have a teenager and we all know how they can be in the mornings. Especially when their little brother wakes them up by jumping on the bed that they are sharing.). Our plan for the day was to hit up the breakfast buffet at the hotel, then head to the beach in Carmel, have lunch at Cannery Row Brewing Company, followed by a couple hours of play time at Dennis the Menace Park and then we would head home.  Everyone was showered and dressed and Howie and Nolan had walked across the street and got Starbucks for Emma and I while we were getting ready so we were all in great moods now. It was now time to walk downstairs for breakfast.  

    World War 4- the battle between the quilt and pillow and Gillian had begun.  We sent the other two kids downstairs to the safety of the breakfast buffet while Howie and I began hostage negotiations. 5 minutes later we were walking out the door without the quilt and pillow! We won! Woohoo! We kick butt at this parenting stuff! That’s right, who’s your mama who’s your daddy!!  We are awesome!!! Ya!!! 

    Umm...not so fast.   I sat her down at the table the other two kids had saved for us and walked over to grab a plate to get her food.  Next thing I knew Gillian was running after me stomping, spitting and yelling.  Just picture how a 2 year old throws a tantrum in public.  We all see that and chuckle because we’ve “been there done that”.  Well when a 19 year old does it in public no one chuckles.  It’s quite awkward. Quite humiliating. I’m often surprised (and thankful) that people don’t call security on her or me.  I walked over and grabbed her arm and kept her as close to me as possible while walking through the buffet line to get her food. I got her back to the table and got her situated and tried to get back up to go get my food but she wasn’t  having any of that. So my wonderful husband brought  me bacon. All is now almost right in the world.        

      We manage to get through the rest of breakfast without any more drama and I was eventually able to go get my own plate of food by myself. I really just needed more of that bacon!  As we were finishing up the last of our food Howie declares that he will be taking away all of Gillian’s “stuff” when we get back to the room.  He’s done with it. It causes too much drama and she’s like an addict and it needs to be ripped away from her. Emma, Nolan and I freaked out even though I knew he was totally right. None of us wanted to deal with the backlash that would come from this.  It took a lot of convincing, but in the end we all agreed that ripping everything from the clutches of her hands was best. Howie ran up ahead of us to the room to hide the quilt and pillow in his bag.  She had been taking about it nonstop all through breakfast and couldn’t wait to get back up to the room to have it. Oh boy, was she in store for a big surprise!.......to be continued. 

The Real Vacation- Part 2

     After dealing with a Gillian battle I usually have a headache and am completely exhausted. But we are on vacation and we are going to have fun even if I have to force it, gosh darn it!  I often forget that I’m not the only one experiencing the Gillian’s anxiety attacks in the family.  I don’t realize that the aftermath of the tornado that just went through affects all 4 of us (Howie, Emma and Nolan).  So here we are at one of our favorite restaurants in Monterey and I’m trying to make everyone have a good time and smile for pictures at dinner and they are all grumpy.  That made me grumpier and I lost it.  I gave them all a piece of my mind that I didn’t have to spare. I wanted them to feel bad for not being happy. I wanted them to know that they were ruining the family trip that I had planned to make them all happy. I wanted them to know that I was not happy. I finished saying what was on my mind and we finished our pizza in silence and went back to the hotel and I went into our room and shut the door and cried.  I was done.  

    Thank God I have an extremely patient and loving husband who didn’t get mad at me or judge me, but instead came into the room and let me cry and unleash all that I was feeling.   “I’m done. I’m spent. I can’t parent this child any longer. I don’t want to be her parent any longer.  I just want to run away.”  He let me go on and on for a long time. No judgment. No anger. No telling me I was wrong for how I was feeling. None of that. He just listened and understood. He got it.  He gets it.He lives this life of a special needs parent too.  Saying what I was feeling out loud made me feel better. So much better.  I went out to the living room area and apologized to my kids (Emma and Nolan) for my behavior and made sure they both knew that none of this was their fault. Emma apologized for being grumpy at dinner and I apologized to her, for about the millionth time this year, that she had to live this life with her sister. She always responds with, “Its okay mom.  I’m so sorry that you have to deal with so much with her.”  To which my reply is always, “I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t have anything left for you. I always do and I always will.”  These are the moments that I know I would never have with Emma if we didn’t have a special needs child. She and I would not have the close knit relationship that we have if it wasn’t for Gillian.  For that I am oh so very grateful.  

    We ended the evening with four of us sitting on the very small hotel room couch together while watching Spider-Man. Gillian laid on her bed next to the couch and fell fast asleep. She was exhausted. This poor adult child  of mine has no control over her anxiety or her body or her emotions. My heart was happy and aching all at the same time....... to be continued.

*A couple of the forced smiles pictures*

-The Hubs and Nolan-

-Me and Gillian-

The Real Vacation- Part 1

    We went to Monterey over the Christmas break because Gillian, our 19 year old special needs child/adult, had been asking to go to the ocean for awhile now.  I posted lots of great photos on Instagram and FB. Of course, I only posted the ones that made it look like we had a great time. A friend even made the comment, “It looks like you had a great time”.  I laughed at that because earlier in the day I sent this picture of me to one of my closest friends and said, “Me. Sitting on the beach. Going crazy. Gillian is spitting.  Gillian just threw sand at  Emma.”  Then I sent her a picture of me and Gillian all smiley and said, “But I can put this pic on FB so my life looks calm and perfect.”  

And that’s what I did and that’s what everyone thought, but that was far from the truth.  Here’s how the weekend really went....

    Gillian is obsessed with her “stuff” right now which includes: a quilt, a pillow, an umbrella, a purse, a picture of Santa, a tube of lipstick, headphones, an iPod, at least 4 bandaids on her fingers and at least 3 pieces of gum in her mouth.  She knows what her “stuff” is and if she is misses one of those items she freaks. She stresses out, spits, yells, stomps and tears things apart until she finds the missing item.  We decided to let her bring all her “stuff” along on our trip so that it would be more peaceful. Backfired!  After getting all situated in our hotel room we decided to go get dinner at Gianni’s.  We start to leave the room and Gillian has all her “stuff” in tow. Normally we let her bring everything but the quilt and pillow out of the house so naturally we told her she had to leave those things in the hotel room. World War 3 broke out. I was shoved and almost knocked over as she tried to grab these items  back from me. Spit started to fly, yelling started to happen and feet were stomping.  No this is not the motions to the newest line dancing craze. This is Gillian unleashing her anxiety. This is when our other two kids are told to leave the room and find someplace safe to be until we get her under control.  This is when I muster up any strength I have left to get her to sit down and calm down.  This is usually at least a ten minute process.  We finally left the hotel room and she had the quilt and pillow in her arms. We weren’t going to win the battle against this adult child’s anxiety this time. Fortunately she was willing to leave it in the car when we got to the restaurant but she was stressed to the max about it. 

    We walked in and Gillian, Nolan and I sat at a table while Howie and Emma went to order the food.  I took these moments to grab Gillian’s hands and pray for her and over her and with her and for me.  I pray this prayer often with her lately as her severe anxiety disorder has completely consumed her life and ours. “Dear Lord, please meet me here in this place right now. Please wash your peace over this child and take away her anxiousness. Lord, I know she knows you and has you in her heart, I ask that your Holy Spirit would pour his fruits out of her. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control.  Let these fruits pour out of me as well, Lord.  Give me the strength and wisdom I need to help this child.  Help her, God.  Please help her. Let her be comfortable in her skin. Let her fear nothing.  Let her just have peace.  Oh how she needs peace.  Thank you for getting us through another battle. Thank you for being here with us and never leaving us.  Amen.”

    I know she feels bad.  She gives me a big hug and a kiss and I tell her how much I love her and how sorry I am for getting so upset at her. I know she doesn’t really get my apologies but that doesn’t mean I keep them from her.  The rest of the family rejoins us and we finally sit in peace as a family for a moment......to be continued. 

This is My Story-Part 4

    Life was good.  Our marriage was in a better place, we were working on healing, and we were having a baby boy.  I felt like for the first time in a very long time I could finally exhale.  Little did I know that that was the calm before the biggest storm of my life.  2011-2012 was a year that I will never be bale to forget.  My dad was diagnosed with cancer, my parents moved in with us, I gave birth to Nolan, my dad had open heart surgery, Chris started using painkillers again, my parents moved out, Chris and I separated, I was homeschooling 2 kids while taking care of a baby, Gillian had the largest grand mal seizure she had ever had, my grandmother died unexpectedly, Chris moved back in to help me with the kids, my dad had a massive stroke the day he finished his 40th round of radiation, Chris started in on painkillers again, Chris had to move out again, my dad had another small stroke, Chris moved back in, my dad passed away. This all happened in less then a year’s time. What I thought was hell before came nowhere close in comparison to this brief amount of time in my life.  It all seems like such a whirlwind now.  It was like this giant tornado came through my life and picked up everything I loved and tossed it around and then threw it in all different directions.  There were a lot of pieces that had to be picked up because not only was I losing people I loved and dealing with a broken marriage, my kids were losing people they loved and had parents that had completely fallen apart.  There was a lot of damage done in this tornado.  

     Many have asked how I made it through all of this and the only answer I have is that God was carrying me the whole time. I clung to Him so tightly.   He was my rock, He was my constant, He was my comforter, He was my healer, He was my everything.  That was the only way I could come out of all of that having a shred of sanity and life left.  And to be honest, we are still, 6 years later, picking up some of the scattered wreckage.  Just when you thin it’s all behind you, you’ll turn around and trip over something else that you have to work through. The key is, though, to keep picking up the pieces God hands you and work through it.  Don’t try to step over it or walk around it or kick it aside.  The best thing to do is pick it up, hand it to God and work through it with Him.  

      After my dad died Chris finally got his act together. We just realized that January 29th marked 6 years of sobriety for him and 6 years of restoration in our marriage. It hasn’t been a smooth 6 years.  We’ve had some bumpy roads for sure, but never in the past 6 years have we been on these roads alone. We have surrounded ourselves with many friends who have walked this road before us and some who we have had the privilege of walking on their roads with them. Most importantly though we have both worked on our own personal issues separately and our relationships with Christ. I know that I can’t fix my husband and his issues but I can work on my issues and confess and repent from my sins. I still struggle with many triggers that bring me back to times of hell, but I now quickly run to the feet of my Savior and He reminds me I am loved and I am safe.  

    This is my part in His story. A story that I continue to live out day by day, moment by moment. A story that has had its share of heartache and blessings. A story that has Christ completely woven through it because I am His and He is mine.

-My amazing dad with Emma and Nolan-

This is My Story-Part 3

     About five and a half years into our marriage Chris had had enough liquid courage one night to tell me about an affair he was having.  I still remember that night as if it had just happened.  I was a wreck and so began our journey down the road of infidelity and addictions.  We told only a few people about what was going on in our marriage at the time. It was a very isolating time of my life.  I was embarrassed and ashamed of what had happened in my marriage and drew away from people in hopes that they woudln’t find out about it.  It took a couple of months after the confession for us to realize that we needed counseling if we were going to have any hope of keeping this marriage together.  We went to some close friends and asked them to help us out and they walked along side us on this horrible journey we were now embarking.  For the next 10 years we lived in marital hell.  I was a complete co-dependent who thought that all my husband’s problems were because of me.  I wasn’t pretty enough, I wasn’t good enough.  My daily existence became trying to please him and make him happy.  It was a task I could never accomplish and I would beat myself up mentally daily because of it.  Chris went from addiction to addiction over the next 10 years and encountered a few emotional affairs as well.  We were two really messed up people full of sin trying to hide from the rest of the world just how bad things had gotten.  

In the midst of our 10 year journey through hell I tried a few times to get help from the Church that we attended at the time.  At one point I took the girls and moved into my parent’s house.  When our pastor got word of this he immediately asked to meet with Chris and I.  I explained to him all that had been going on in our marriage and he responded by asking me when I was going to move back home.  I was stunned.  He told me that the kids and I needed to be back in the house by the end of the week and we all needed to be in Church on Sunday.  Then he turned to Chris and asked if he was going to be playing in the softball game that weekend and that was all they talked about after that.  No counseling, no help, no love.  Basically we were told to sweep it all under the rug, be at Church on Sunday and look happy.  Unfortunately we would be stuck at this Church for a couple more years until God led us elsewhere.
  

In the Spring of 2010 God finally softened Chris’ heart to look for another Church.  We came up with a list of about 5 Churches that we wanted to visit and decided we would start with a Church in Stockton that first Sunday.  Well we got up too late that Sunday morning and realized we wouldn’t make it in time for the service.  So we grabbed our list and figured out what Church we could make it to.  Redeemer Church was the only one that fit our timing that morning so we got ready and off we went.  We sat near the front row and listened to the sermon, it wasn’t the normal pastor that Sunday, but it was a good sermon and the worship was amazing and the people so welcoming.  We got in the car afterwards and we both said, “That place feels like home” and we never visited another Church.  On about our third or fourth Sunday at Redeemer this guy got up front and shared his story and talked about a men’s group he was starting up,  His story mirrored our story- adultery, addictions, broken marriage.  My jaw hit the floor.  Mostly because I couldn’t believe that he was actually allowed to talk about this from the front of the Church!  I had never witnessed anything like this before and it was so refreshing, so wonderful.  I was in awe that God had finally brought us to a place where we could get help when we asked for it.  A place where we didn’t have to hide any longer.  A place where we would find healing.  

When Emma was about 2 we decided to try for another kid.  Why not?  I thought that maybe it would help our help marriage (yes, funny, I know).  I figured that since it was so easy to get pregnant the last time all my infertility issues were gone and it would be just as easy this time.  Nope.  We tried on and off for 6 years.  It was horrible.  I cried so often because, honestly, in the back of my head I thought that this was just another way that I wasn’t good enough for Chris.  (We were in the midst of our journey through hell at this point.)  I had finally come to a point, after years of trying, where I was done trying to get pregnant and had completely given up.  Our marriage was finally on the right track, we were finally getting the help and support we both needed and we were in an amazing Church body surrounded by people who loved us and people we loved dearly.  That’s when God decided it was time for another baby.  It was funny because when you get pregnant when you already have a 13 year old and a nine year old everyone thinks it was an “oops” baby, but no, he was our miracle baby that we had tried and prayed for for so long for.  

To be continued.......

This is My Story-Part 2

     Soon after we were married I started down the road of fertility testing. I had been diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome when I was 13 and had been told that it would either be really hard or impossible for me to get pregnant. We decided to go ahead and start with the testing early on in our marriage because we knew we wanted to have a family we just didn’t know how long it would take or if it would even be possible. 6 months into fertility testing we were told that it looked like I would never be able to have children. I wasn’t ovulating at all even when I took all the fertility meds. I was devastated. The doctor said we could try it all again for another month but she was sure it would’t work. We decided to wait a month and then try all the meds one last time.  After a month of letting my body rest I went in for the standard pregnancy test you had to take before starting any fertility medication. Can I just tell you how mean it is that you have to take what feels like a million pregnancy tests that all come out negative when you are going through fertility treatment? It’s just not right. It’s very insensitive and mean. Chris and I were getting ready to go my parents house for dinner when the phone rang and I answered it. It was my fertility doctor calling to tell me that the test came back negative and I could start my next round of treatment. Except those weren’t the words out of her mouth. I remember exactly what she said like it was yesterday, “Caroline, I just want you to know that I just went and threw all of my medical books away.  There is no medical explanation for how this happened, but you are pregnant!”.  She was dumbfounded, I was elated! We were having a baby. A baby I thought that we would never have.  A true gift from God. A true example that it truly is God who opens and closes the womb. 

-Me pregnant with Gillian and my dad with his food baby.-

Gillian started off her life a very colicky baby. At night the only way we could get her calm was to “bounce, rock, pat”. We would rock her in the rocking chair while bouncing up and down and patting her back. It was a great workout for the core. During the day she was a genuinely happy baby. At night it was a different story.  This lasted for about 3 months and then she was good at night too. People around us started whispering about Gillian she was about 10 months old.  They could have been whispering before this but the whispers got way louder about this time where we could hear them. She wasn’t crawling yet. She wasn’t talking that much.  She wasn’t hitting any of the milestones that babies are supposed to make. I think I knew in the back of my head that something just wasn’t right, but I was not even close to being ready to admit that. Soon after Gillian’s first birthday we took her to her pediatrician to voice our concerns and he sent us to have her tested. We spent approximately 4 hours with an occupational therapist, a speech therapist, a physical therapist, a social worker, a regional center representative, and an early intervention teacher. They all took their turns playing with and evaluating Gillian and then they would come and talk to us about what they found. We ended that half day being told that Gillian was indeed significantly delayed and she would benefit from immediately starting physical, occupational and speech therapy as well as having a teacher come to our home to work with her a couple of times a week. To say I was overwhelmed by all of this would be a gross understatement. I went into complete shock and denial. I politely declined all of their services and told them that Gillian just needed more time and she would catch up with all of the milestones. 6 months later Gillian was just starting to crawl but she was nowhere near walking and her speech was still significantly delayed and that’s when we started our special needs child journey through therapies and home teachers.  It was a lot.

We waited 4 years before deciding to add to our family.  Thinking infertility would be an issue again, I went into the process very carefully.  We were pregnant with our second daughter, Emma, the first month!  I just love how God works and constantly reminds me that He is the one in control and not me.  Emma was a great baby and is now an amazing young lady with the most amazing servant’s heart. She is just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. I know God has great things in store for her as He has made her relatable in so many ways because she has had to walk many through many of these journeys with me.

To be continued....

-My beautiful daughters when they were little.-

This is My Story- Part 1

     We all have a story, you know.  It’s made up of the words and emotions that we use to describe our coming into the world, our childhood, our teen years, our twenties, and so on and so forth.  It’s made up of sports we played, activities we were involved in and the friends we had and didn’t have.  It involves our parents, whether they were there or not, our siblings, whether we had many, few or none, and any extended family that might have been around.  Our story is what has made us into the people that we are today.  The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly.  Here’s one thing that you might not know about your story....you are not the one who is writing it.  Nope, not you not me.  Fortunately we have the most amazing storyteller and author that there ever was who writes us directly into His story.  His beautiful story of redemption and love.  God is the author of our stories!  Aren’t you glad?!  I sure am, because I could have never written such a beautiful story like the one He wrote for me.  This is my story....

I was born and raised and still live in the same town. My parents became Christians when I was little and because they were new to their faith and felt they didn’t have all the knowledge and tools that they needed to fully give us a solid foundation of faith they sent my sister and I to a private Christian school. I went to this school from preschool all the way through high school. I often said that if they had a college I probably would have went there as well. I have one sister who is two and a half years older then me. We had two dogs and, at most times, two cats. Nothing extraordinary about the basics of our home life. We went to Church on Sunday mornings and on Sunday evenings and we attended every church activity that there was. My sister did gymnastics and I did ballet and was a cheerleader all through junior high and high school. Just your average family of four. We didn’t have a white picket fence around our house, but you get the picture, we were your average, normal, happy family.

-Me and my big sister-

During my Junior High years my parents had a lot on their plates.  I could see the stress that this caused them and decided that I didn’t want to be one of the burdens in their life so I became a wallflower. I chose to keep my problems to myself and just handle everything on my own so that I would never overwhelm my parents whom already had so much that they were dealing with. Those were hard years for me emotionally. I had boyfriend drama and regular friend drama, and life drama but I just kept it all in and dealt with it on my own. Talking out loud about my problems was never an option in my mind. I would just shove my feelings down and keep pressing forward. Now, this wasn’t because they wouldn’t have been there for me or they wouldn’t have provided for whatever I asked for, it was because I wanted to be a people pleaser and not a burdensome person.  In my mind, I saw the toll burdensome people took on them and on others and I did not want to be a part of that club.  I learned to take care of myself when I was sick, work through issues with friends (in a completely unhealthy, let people walk all over you kind of way) and not be a bother.  

My last year of high school I began dating a guy about half way through the year. We became serious quite fast and I realize now that I was looking for someone to take care of me. I was tired of taking care of myself and just wanted to be able to lean on someone else for a change. We got engaged right out of high school when I was only 17 years old. He was my ticket out of my house and into a home where someone else would finally meet all of my needs. He broke off our engagement exactly one month before our wedding.  I was crushed and humiliated and angry.  Five months later, there I was, 18 years old, self-esteem at an all time low, angry at the world, and back to taking care of myself. It sucked. I was working 20-30 hours week plus going to college full time. I had pushed away all of my close friends from high school because I had been so humiliated by my engagement being broken off. I got new friends who didn’t really know that part of my life so we wouldn’t have to talk about it. I could just push my feelings deep down and keep moving forward. Then one Sunday afternoon when I was working at a local restaurant I saw a group of guys sitting at the end of the bar and decided to go chat with them. By the time they had left one of the guys and I had exchanged numbers.   He called me at midnight that night and we talked for a few hours on the phone. The conversation mostly revolved around the fact that he was 24 and had no interest in dating an immature 18 year. I convinced him that I was not immature and he should take the risk.  9 months later I became Mrs. Christian Howard!  

To be continued........

Welcome

So why a blog and why now and why “Relatable”?  Great questions.  I’ve got answers.

Why “relatable”?  About a year or so ago I was taking a bath after a long, hard day.  I don’t remember exactly why the day was long or hard now, I just remember being at my wits end and needing a good cry and the bath or shower is always the best place to do that, in my opinion.  There I was in the tub crying and I just started talking to God.  Okay, I was actually complaining to Him.  I was telling him how much I disliked, okay I actually said hated, that I had so much crap in my life that people could relate to.  The conversation went like this..... “God, I hate that I can relate to people dealing with infidelity, and people struggling with addictions or an addicted spouse, and people going through infertility, and people raising special needs kids, and people who homeschool, and people who have had broken engagements, and people who have normal kids, and people who have their kids in public schools, and people whose kids are at a charter school, and people who have lost a parent or a close loved one, and spouses who are separated, and people with certain health issues.  You know it just really sucks that you have put me through so much and made me so relatable.”  The whole time I was yelling this at God tears were streaming down my face.  When I was done with my little tantrum, I just sat there quietly feeling sorry for myself.  That’s when I heard His still, small voice whisper to me, “I haven’t taken any of your kids from you.  You can’t relate to someone who has lost a child.”  God knows I am a stubborn red head who needs a really hard smack in the back of the head sometimes and thats exactly what this was.  A good, hard smack.  Immediately my tears dried up and my lamenting turned to worship and gratefulness.  He was right.  He hadn’t made me relatable in every way possible. I realized that even though I was relatable to many I was not relatable to all.  But, He had made me relatable and it wasn’t a bad thing like I was feeling it was at that moment on that day.  Being relatable was a good thing.  Being relatable made me more usable for His kingdom and His glory.  

Why a blog?  You all told me I should.  So I did  Hahahaha.  Actually, all the positive feed back that I was receiving from my FB posts and people telling me that I should write a book or start a blog was just the motivation I needed to jump in and do it.  I actually have been working on a book for the past few months but it has been slow going.  Writing little articles here and there seems to be much more feasible for me at this point in my life.  Maybe one day, if that’s what God wants to do, it will all turn into a book.  For now, I will take the book idea that God placed in my lap and turn it into blog form.   The whole idea behind this blog will be that I can write about all the above mentioned ways that I am relatable and have them all categorized for those visiting the blog.  For example, if you or someone you know is going through infidelity with their spouse you will be able to click on the “infidelity” tab and all the articles I have written on the topic will be there for you to read along with resources to get help.    Be patient with me, though.  It will take some time to write all that God has put in my head to write so it will be slow going at first.  

Why now?  My husband and I were blessed to be a part of a ministry for 5 years that helped others struggling through what we had struggled through.  I also had the privilege to counsel many women struggling in their marriages.  A little over a year ago God called me away from all of that and into a time of solitude and soul healing with Him.  It was a hard year.  A year of wondering through the wilderness searching for answers and clinging to God.  I came out of that year in a much better place then I have ever been.  In a deeper relationship with God then I had ever had and a much stronger desire to reach out to hurting people then I ever thought possible.  I missed teaching about God’s love for us and I missed sitting with hurting souls and showing them the hope they have in Christ.  I missed being a vessel for God to use.  I started praying about what was next but God kept telling me to just be patient and to be still and quiet.  Three things I am not so great at.   Then the book idea started to form in my head and I slowly started writing.  That didn’t seem to be the thing He was calling me to do.  Then I had a breakthrough after our rough weekend in Monterey that I needed to start getting my writing out there now, in real time.  It would be healing for me and a way for God to use me.  So, that’s what I did and when the response was so positive I new that I had found what God was calling me to do.   And here we are.  With a blog.  Kinda scary.  Very exciting.  Glad you are here with me.