Mosaic Turner's Syndrome occurs during birth. Most Turner's kids do not make it to term. Another blessing and God's provision. I have a "semi-incompetent" cervix...which means my cervix has a hard time holding a baby in to term. It dialates and the baby is born premature. During my pregnancy with Edward, I began dialating at 36 weeks. He was born at 38 weeks which is considered full term. When I was pregnant with Sydney I began dialating at 29 weeks. My ob was doing a Strep B swab and decided just to check whilst he was "down there". In his words, "You just went from ho-hum to high risk". What insued was bed rest, then hospitalization for the next 5 1/2 weeks. When I got pregnant with Ashley they did a cerclage and sewed my cervix shut at 14 weeks. God wanted Ashley to be here. He has a specific plan for her that I cannot wait to see.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Not a sparrow
I shared a room with another teacher, and as my class was ending, hers would soon be beginnning so she walked in as I was finishing my phone conversation. The team of teachers I worked with all knew Ashley had gone to the endocrinologist. I looked at her, numb, and said, "They know what's going on with Ashley." When I told her she had Mosaic Turner's, her eyes welled up. She said, "That's what I have." You have to know, Sharon is this petite ball of fire. Tiny and not a force you want to mess with. And when she came to the school, we just took her as such. She never said anything, we just loved and knew her as Sharon.
God knew. God worked out circumstances to bring her to that school (she was a new teacher that year), to have me share a room with her, to have our desks in our office face each other daily, to have her be the first person I shared that news with, to let me see His provision of letting me know, "I have this. Ashley is going to be okay. Look at this wonderful child, Sharon, of mine. See her full life." I was blown away. He is each of our personal saviors. He loves each of us THAT much. Matthew 10:29 says, "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care."
I was still stunned. I walked out of the room and called John. There were many tears. Ashley was going to be okay. But no mother wants her child to endure anything...if only we could cocoon them. It sounds silly, I know. But it's the heart of every mother. There was more for me to learn here.
I shared the news with my community group at church and again was blessed to have people in my life to help me process life. When I told them Ashley may not be able to have children, Holly said, "we are not going to claim that. God is in charge. I know science/medicine tells us what they may or may not know, but ultimately God is in charge." From that moment on, I not only prayed healing for her womb, but have already claimed healing and victory there and thanked God for her healing.
God knew. God worked out circumstances to bring her to that school (she was a new teacher that year), to have me share a room with her, to have our desks in our office face each other daily, to have her be the first person I shared that news with, to let me see His provision of letting me know, "I have this. Ashley is going to be okay. Look at this wonderful child, Sharon, of mine. See her full life." I was blown away. He is each of our personal saviors. He loves each of us THAT much. Matthew 10:29 says, "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care."
I was still stunned. I walked out of the room and called John. There were many tears. Ashley was going to be okay. But no mother wants her child to endure anything...if only we could cocoon them. It sounds silly, I know. But it's the heart of every mother. There was more for me to learn here.
I shared the news with my community group at church and again was blessed to have people in my life to help me process life. When I told them Ashley may not be able to have children, Holly said, "we are not going to claim that. God is in charge. I know science/medicine tells us what they may or may not know, but ultimately God is in charge." From that moment on, I not only prayed healing for her womb, but have already claimed healing and victory there and thanked God for her healing.
Friday, July 27, 2012
slam
Have you ever gotten that bad news call from anyone...that surreal moment where your body works, your mind takes over but you don't know what in the hell you're doing and/or saying? I had two questions after the information overload describing what it is and how she got it...will it effect her life span, will she be able to have kids? The answer to the first is that they don't really know, so no, probably not. The second, most kids with Turner's are unable to have kids. My baby would not be able to know the joy of knowing what it feels like to have life grow inside of you, give life from her own body. I know I wrote stuff down.
Here is the God moment that perhaps forever changed me because I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that my God is with me through EVERY valley, EVERY high, EVERY low in such an intimate that NO ONE could ever deny His existence in this moment or pass it off as coincidence.
Here is the God moment that perhaps forever changed me because I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that my God is with me through EVERY valley, EVERY high, EVERY low in such an intimate that NO ONE could ever deny His existence in this moment or pass it off as coincidence.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
this mosaic aint no art piece
Life settled down into routine. And we coasted along. A while back, I had taken Ashley for her well check at the pediatrician. She has always been a tiny thing...one of her nick names is "Tee Tiny". He wasn't really worried, but suggested that I go get her looked at by an endocrinologist at Children's. That way, if there was something we could give her to help her grow, we could get a head start on it before she went into puberty when most girls quit growing. It was just a litttle blood test. He was not worried and I was not worried. She was healthy and being small was just who she was and how she was made. And I expected that would be the conversation I would be having with this doctor. It takes a while to get an appointment at Children's. They wanted to see her records to see if an appointment was even merited. We finally got in, did the silly little blood test and a hand scan to test her "bone age".
I remember where I was when I got the call. Fourth period. I was teaching a reading class to really low level readers. The class was almost over and the kids were putting up their materials. My phone rang and I knew it was their number. This should be a quick and easy phone call, so I answered it. Ya know it's never really good news if it's the doctor on the other end, not some nurse in their office. Ashley has something called Mosaic Turner's Syndrome.
I remember where I was when I got the call. Fourth period. I was teaching a reading class to really low level readers. The class was almost over and the kids were putting up their materials. My phone rang and I knew it was their number. This should be a quick and easy phone call, so I answered it. Ya know it's never really good news if it's the doctor on the other end, not some nurse in their office. Ashley has something called Mosaic Turner's Syndrome.
if you're doing the math
Life was run by google calendar telling my husband where I would be, what he needed to do and what each child's schedule was for that day, week and month. Sydney had been peeing clean for a while and we had been at the Seay Center for a while. We settled into our new normal. And for a while we rode the wave of status quo. I wouldn't say life was great, but my daughter seemed to be on the road to trying to get healthy. The marriage was hanging in and Edward and Ashley seemed to not be busting at the seams. I was exhausted, though. Physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.
Back in junior high, Sydney went through a tough period with girls (girls in junior high suck....never has there been a more vicious animal than a highland park middle school girl who has been raised by her highland park mom to assume the world centers around her and anyone not ok by her standards deserves to be victimized). I wrote a verse on a notecard for her. I love, love this story because this notecard has been around for 4 years now. It gets misplaced, put up and disappears. This is how cool God is...whenever I need that verse, the card shows up when I'm not even looking for it. Romans 5: 3-5, "We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment..." I loved that God showed me this verse again. I am in awe of the details He pays attention to our lives. My character was being developed. And God is judicious, He was not just working on me...He was working on everyone. He had more work to do on my pride.
So, if you're counting, two kids have already endured trials. That leaves one child and a husband.
Back in junior high, Sydney went through a tough period with girls (girls in junior high suck....never has there been a more vicious animal than a highland park middle school girl who has been raised by her highland park mom to assume the world centers around her and anyone not ok by her standards deserves to be victimized). I wrote a verse on a notecard for her. I love, love this story because this notecard has been around for 4 years now. It gets misplaced, put up and disappears. This is how cool God is...whenever I need that verse, the card shows up when I'm not even looking for it. Romans 5: 3-5, "We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment..." I loved that God showed me this verse again. I am in awe of the details He pays attention to our lives. My character was being developed. And God is judicious, He was not just working on me...He was working on everyone. He had more work to do on my pride.
So, if you're counting, two kids have already endured trials. That leaves one child and a husband.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
damned pride
When I joined my church, early on I went through a program called Celebrate Recovery. It's for "hurts, issues and hangups". Truly, it is for ANYTHING that is blocking your relationship from God. I went through at the time for anger and unforgiveness (at my ex). Through the program, I realize that my TRUE ISSUE is my lack of trust in God (still a struggle to this day, although I struggle better most days because I am aware of this). Some time after I was talking with a friend that I felt like I needed to go through it again because God was telling me that I needed to deal with the pride in my life. HUH?! You sure You're talking to me, God? Compared to most people in my 'hood, I am po white trash. I am the mom who works and lives paycheck to paycheck without maids, nannies, the club membership and all that is considered desired in this area. I have worked since I was 14 and keeping up with the Joneses was a joke and something I had LONG since quit doing in college. So, I did what most people do when you hear something from God you don't want to deal with, I ignored it.
And my sweet, gracious God brought me to where I wouldn't take myself. One piece at a time, HE was dealing with my pride. I later discovered that I took pride in my children and in my new marriage. Prior to September 2010, I thought my life was pretty darn charming. I knew love (from Bill and John). What a blessing. I loved my children. I put my identity in them. I was their mom, not really Kathy. Not the child of God that I should have been first. So, He knocked my knees out showing me my blind spot with my son. He sucker punched me with Sydney. Hard to be prideful about your son smoking pot and your daughter in rehab. Philippians 1:6 says, "being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Yep, I am a work in progress and there was more work to be done.
And my sweet, gracious God brought me to where I wouldn't take myself. One piece at a time, HE was dealing with my pride. I later discovered that I took pride in my children and in my new marriage. Prior to September 2010, I thought my life was pretty darn charming. I knew love (from Bill and John). What a blessing. I loved my children. I put my identity in them. I was their mom, not really Kathy. Not the child of God that I should have been first. So, He knocked my knees out showing me my blind spot with my son. He sucker punched me with Sydney. Hard to be prideful about your son smoking pot and your daughter in rehab. Philippians 1:6 says, "being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Yep, I am a work in progress and there was more work to be done.
And it looked like this
So everyday I would leave school (my job) at 2:30 to run home, take a healthy snack with me. As I learned one of the triggers for addicts was when they were hungry (HALT...Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired), pick her up from school to sit at the Seay Center some 10+ miles away for 3 hours. It was such an odd time. There was a small garden there and on pretty days I would take my MP3 full of praise songs and spend time with God, in His Word, reading devotionals, reading. She had a connection there with the other kids and when they were on breaks they would talk and laugh and tease each other. They understood each other in ways no one else really could. The looks on the parents faces was different...hurt, scared, sad...there wasn't that much laughter. On the surface there might be the occasional laugh at a comment; but we were there on a different journey. One that a child will NEVER understand until they are parents. I wanted to fix my child, whatever was broken that made her life so miserable. Some days I got a lot done there. Some days there was just sweet time with God and I even had peace. Some days, I was just sad.
We were there Monday through Thursdays until 7:30. After this she was also responsible for going to so many AA meetings, me to alanon meetings. She had to keep up with her school work. I had two other children and a new husband at home that were put on hold. Fridays we got out early then went to church. It was surreal. They drug tested her at the center and she was getting clean. She had to stay clean or she would get kicked out.
So surreal. I cannot believe this is my life. I have failed in so many ways. I called my doctor at one point wanting to get on anti depressants because I didn't know how I was going to climb this mountain. God intervened again. Because I had to take short term leave for her, I couldn't really "afford" (or afford) to take any more days off so I made an appointment for December during my Christmas break. He did heal my heart with time. He helped me see that part of my job as parent is unconditional love, putting that to the test. He loves me unconditionally and I have disappointed Him many more times than I could count.
One of my friends pointed out that I was lucky that this happened now, while she was home with me, while I could build into her and have the time with her to get through this together. That God allowed this to come to light. He brought her through this saving her life and yes, my own.
We were there Monday through Thursdays until 7:30. After this she was also responsible for going to so many AA meetings, me to alanon meetings. She had to keep up with her school work. I had two other children and a new husband at home that were put on hold. Fridays we got out early then went to church. It was surreal. They drug tested her at the center and she was getting clean. She had to stay clean or she would get kicked out.
So surreal. I cannot believe this is my life. I have failed in so many ways. I called my doctor at one point wanting to get on anti depressants because I didn't know how I was going to climb this mountain. God intervened again. Because I had to take short term leave for her, I couldn't really "afford" (or afford) to take any more days off so I made an appointment for December during my Christmas break. He did heal my heart with time. He helped me see that part of my job as parent is unconditional love, putting that to the test. He loves me unconditionally and I have disappointed Him many more times than I could count.
One of my friends pointed out that I was lucky that this happened now, while she was home with me, while I could build into her and have the time with her to get through this together. That God allowed this to come to light. He brought her through this saving her life and yes, my own.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
A New Normal
I am at the bottom...again. My heart aches and my heart is broken. I don't know what lies ahead. Is my daughter an alcoholic? Am I going to lose her too? There is shame, guilt, tremendous sadness
Part of the condition of release for Sydney was attending IOP..for those that have not walked this road that is Intensive Out Patient treatment. Our new normal involved me having to take short term disability to leave my job early everyday to take her to the Seay Center. She would do counseling every evening with parents coming in the last hour of counseling for family counseling. On Fridays parents went to in house al anon meetings. In addition, Sydney had to attend AA meetings and find a sponsor.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Refinement AND Restoration
Yes, there was refinement and restoration in this time. It, of course, looked nothing like I expected. One of the best lines I've ever heard, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him the plans you have for your life."
God did bring restoration and refinement in my life. I use to hate this psalm...I always called it the "death" psalm because it seemed like the only time I heard it would be at funerals. But, it had a new meaning to me.
Psalm 23:
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,[a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
It didn't look at all what I thought it would look like and it wasn't what I would have asked for. But, He did restore my soul and comfort me and His goodness and love follow me. And through and especially after this time, we drew closer to each other. Not becauseI thought He was finally there, but because I finally came back to Him realizing He was there all along.
God did bring restoration and refinement in my life. I use to hate this psalm...I always called it the "death" psalm because it seemed like the only time I heard it would be at funerals. But, it had a new meaning to me.
Psalm 23:
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,[a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.
It didn't look at all what I thought it would look like and it wasn't what I would have asked for. But, He did restore my soul and comfort me and His goodness and love follow me. And through and especially after this time, we drew closer to each other. Not becauseI thought He was finally there, but because I finally came back to Him realizing He was there all along.
There's no place like home, right?
Moving day. Bill was still in the hospital. With Bill's dad supervising, three of his best buds came and moved all of his stuff from his townhome to my house and to storage. His friends can only be described in one word that would cover it all...AMAZING! An assortment, to be sure, but I loved them all. They all had the same heart. Maybe it comes from growing up in a small town. I'm not sure, but gosh...what an amazing group of guys!!!
Bill, eventually came here. His parents came to visit once he was all moved in and occasionally he got out and about even going to an AA meeting. One guy walked him out to my car and wanted desperately to be his sponsor seeing how badly he needed it. It was very sweet.
There were lots of medicines. He fell several times because his liver was in critical condition and he was recuperating and weak. We used my dad's walker from when he had cancer.
One night he fell asleep catywompus in the bed. Because he was sleeping peacefully, I went and slept with my oldest daughter. She woke up in the middle of the night wanting juice. As I went downstairs to get her a drink, I stopped to see if Bill needed anything. He looked different.
It was the middle of the night so I thought I might be still asleep. I rubbed my eyes and tried again. Again, he wouldn't wake. I touched his cheek. He was gone. I called my mom. I still didn't realize the reality of the situation. "I think Bill is dead." She tells me to call 911. I call 911. My mom beats them here (not because they are lame or slow...granny must have BOOKED it over here). The paramedics show up and I am standing at the foot of my bed. And reality sinks in. He has been dead a while as rigor has set in. They ask me to leave the room. They move him down to the floor. My mom and I are sitting in the hallway outside my room. I have two little girls sleeping upstairs. I had to wake my son downstairs and tell him to let the police in and up (and what was going on).
My mom calls his parents because I can't. There is an officer sitting in the hallway with us while police and paramedics stay in my room. What I didn't know then, because of his age, they had us out in the hallway because I was a suspect. Not until they found all his medicines, his medical papers, etc. did they say anything. That freaked me out. I understand it, but...wow, really? REALLY?!
They call the coroner, I guess. Someone comes over to take the body. All this time, they have not let me go in there. They did not let me say good-bye. I hear the second sickest sound I've ever heard (the first one being my mother-in-law's primortial sound of crying when her husband died). The officer tells us we may want to go into another room because we may not want to see this. The sound of a body in a plastic bag being carried down my stairs. If I live my whole life and NEVER hear anything similar to that sound EVER again, it would be good!!!
See, I thought I had already hit my bottom. I would bury Bill and go through grief counseling. For days, I would hardly go in the house. My car was immaculate as I stayed outside as much as I could. I could handle going into my house only as necessary and for brief periods of time. I went to work because I couldn't stand being home. I continued to sleep in my daughter's bed. Eventually, one day I fell asleep on top of the covers in my bed. I thought I had my portion of grief that I was alloted for this lifetime
A look back
You see, I thought I had hit my bottom already. But to understand, I need to give some background.
I divorced in 2005 after 13 years of marriage. I know divorce is bad, and I do not ever recommend it when friends say they are considering it. But, then again, I hang around different people now than I did then. And, I am different. A sign of God's refinement in my life as He walks through the valleys with me.
After my divorce I began dating one of my boyfriends from my college days. I am not one of those who cares to visit the past of "old boyfriends". My thought here was that the relationship had already ran its course. It ended as it should or as it would. Why revisit that again? Isn't that the definition of insanity?
Bill, was different. We never really "broke up". I was a year older than he. I graduated and went on my path. He was still in school and stayed on his. He was the one "ghost" from my past that I would wonder about...how is he? what's he doing? where is he? is he married? does he have kids?...
Finally, we were in the same place in life again although life had taken us on two different paths. The same chemistry from "back in the day" was still there.
In college he was known as quite the party animal and when people saw us together it never made sense to them because I was more the goody two shoe type...certainly not in the same league on the party scene (although I had my fair share of wildness). But they didn't know him like I did. They didn't see him walk me home, holding my hand. They didn't know he took me on a picnic at the pier at sunset and we talked all hours of the night about any and everything.
Dating him was so fun! I felt young and ridiculously happy. Finally, I would get that happily ever after. We dated for almost two years.
There were cracks though (where aren't there???). He was in the hospital four times...once he passed out after working out when we first started dating. He said it was because his electrolytes were low. There were other times and other explanations. I kept telling him it was not normal though. The only times I had been hospitalized were for giving birth. I kept suggesting that he needed to see a doctor. He was too sickly for someone in his prime years.
At Christmas, he went home to visit his parents and passed out and had a seizure at church. I drove to Tyler to see him and about fell out myself as the doctor's questioned his parents and I about him being an alcoholic. I had seen him drink wine...with me even. I knew he drank in college. But, an alcoholic???
We didn't live together so I really didn't know what went on when I wasn't there, but his behavior never seemed like an alcoholics. I have learned A LOT since then with a whole lot of introspection into my life the error of thinking that alcoholics were loud, angry, abusive people. (there's a whole other story the
there for another time). He denied it, at least in front of us. We told the doctor's we wouldn't let him drink.
Once he came home and recovered from this last "sickness", he had begun to talk about wanting to get married. I didn't think he was an alcoholic. He had been nothing but loving, kind, everything I wanted.
My family has a tradition of going to eat at Pappadeax around Valentine's day. He was there with us. He looked particularly sick to the point where he had to go to the bathroom and throw up. He seemed disoriented and was behaving oddly. We were going to go to an SMU basketball game after that, but my mom pulled me aside and said I needed to take him to the hospital...that she would take the kids and I needed to take him. But, he would not listen to me. I asked, begged, got angry and he blew me off saying he just needed to go home and get some sleep.
I called his parents, whom I had met and loved. Told them, as hard as it was, that he needed to go to the hospital and he wouldn't listen to me. They got in there car and made the trip to Dallas. His mom is not someone you want to mess with. They got here and drove him to the hospital themselves. They told his parents had he not gotten to the hospital, he would have died.
He was in ICU for days and eventually the hospital for a long while. In the interim, between Christmas and Valentines, he had put his townhome on the market. Thinking it would take a while to sell (at least 6 months) then he would move in and we would get married. During the time he was in the hospital, his townhome sold. His dad closed the deal with privileges to handle Bill's affairs. When it was finally time for him to come home, the home he came to was mine.
I divorced in 2005 after 13 years of marriage. I know divorce is bad, and I do not ever recommend it when friends say they are considering it. But, then again, I hang around different people now than I did then. And, I am different. A sign of God's refinement in my life as He walks through the valleys with me.
After my divorce I began dating one of my boyfriends from my college days. I am not one of those who cares to visit the past of "old boyfriends". My thought here was that the relationship had already ran its course. It ended as it should or as it would. Why revisit that again? Isn't that the definition of insanity?
Bill, was different. We never really "broke up". I was a year older than he. I graduated and went on my path. He was still in school and stayed on his. He was the one "ghost" from my past that I would wonder about...how is he? what's he doing? where is he? is he married? does he have kids?...
Finally, we were in the same place in life again although life had taken us on two different paths. The same chemistry from "back in the day" was still there.
In college he was known as quite the party animal and when people saw us together it never made sense to them because I was more the goody two shoe type...certainly not in the same league on the party scene (although I had my fair share of wildness). But they didn't know him like I did. They didn't see him walk me home, holding my hand. They didn't know he took me on a picnic at the pier at sunset and we talked all hours of the night about any and everything.
Dating him was so fun! I felt young and ridiculously happy. Finally, I would get that happily ever after. We dated for almost two years.
There were cracks though (where aren't there???). He was in the hospital four times...once he passed out after working out when we first started dating. He said it was because his electrolytes were low. There were other times and other explanations. I kept telling him it was not normal though. The only times I had been hospitalized were for giving birth. I kept suggesting that he needed to see a doctor. He was too sickly for someone in his prime years.
At Christmas, he went home to visit his parents and passed out and had a seizure at church. I drove to Tyler to see him and about fell out myself as the doctor's questioned his parents and I about him being an alcoholic. I had seen him drink wine...with me even. I knew he drank in college. But, an alcoholic???
We didn't live together so I really didn't know what went on when I wasn't there, but his behavior never seemed like an alcoholics. I have learned A LOT since then with a whole lot of introspection into my life the error of thinking that alcoholics were loud, angry, abusive people. (there's a whole other story the
there for another time). He denied it, at least in front of us. We told the doctor's we wouldn't let him drink.
Once he came home and recovered from this last "sickness", he had begun to talk about wanting to get married. I didn't think he was an alcoholic. He had been nothing but loving, kind, everything I wanted.
My family has a tradition of going to eat at Pappadeax around Valentine's day. He was there with us. He looked particularly sick to the point where he had to go to the bathroom and throw up. He seemed disoriented and was behaving oddly. We were going to go to an SMU basketball game after that, but my mom pulled me aside and said I needed to take him to the hospital...that she would take the kids and I needed to take him. But, he would not listen to me. I asked, begged, got angry and he blew me off saying he just needed to go home and get some sleep.
I called his parents, whom I had met and loved. Told them, as hard as it was, that he needed to go to the hospital and he wouldn't listen to me. They got in there car and made the trip to Dallas. His mom is not someone you want to mess with. They got here and drove him to the hospital themselves. They told his parents had he not gotten to the hospital, he would have died.
He was in ICU for days and eventually the hospital for a long while. In the interim, between Christmas and Valentines, he had put his townhome on the market. Thinking it would take a while to sell (at least 6 months) then he would move in and we would get married. During the time he was in the hospital, his townhome sold. His dad closed the deal with privileges to handle Bill's affairs. When it was finally time for him to come home, the home he came to was mine.
911
We tell her to call the ambulance. I change clothes and am on my way. There really is no describing how I feel on that drive. Will my daughter be alive? Will this be the last time I see her? Will she be in a coma and a "vegetable" her whole life? I can't even remember if or what I prayed...pretty sure there was some begging and pleading on my part, as I am often prone to do in times of trouble. I can't remember how I drove there.
The ambulance was already outside their house but not up in Megan's room. Nosey neighbors were already looking out windows. I run upstairs and see Joe "yelling" at Syd trying to get her to "wake up". Megan and Anna, another friend, were crying. Vomit drools out of the side of Sydney's mouth. She makes a groaning sound, or some kind of vocal, glutteral, noise.
The paramedics are looking at her now...trying to get her to wake up. I don't remember much until they are loading her into the ambulance. He said she would be okay. What does that mean? She will be alive, but will only be making these glutteral noises for the rest of her life? What does that mean?!?
Joe takes Megan and I behind the ambulance. Again, this is so unreal! He is driving as fast as they are following the ambulance that has MY DAUGHTER in it. Are you kidding me? It's not a dream. It's not a dream. That's my kid in there. My child...flesh of my flesh. Unreality that is stark reality.
John is there by the time we get there.
They say the bad things that happen after a divorce are not punishment for the divorce, but that divorce IS the punishment. It is not God's will and does not please Him. My ex and I are, to say in the least, not friends. Most of the time we aren't even friendly although this has begun to change. The call to tell her dad was hard. It's not a call anyone wants to get or anyone wants to make.
We knew that it would be ugly...and it was. We asked them to get an officer to come down knowing whatever was going to happen when he got there, we would need help. This was not a time for accusations and "I told you so's". There are PLENTY to go around. Take a heaping serving-because NO ONE escapes that one!
He came in and dished out servings in front of everyone and the officer had him removed. They had to usher us (mom and stepdad) into a different area to let him visit. Then take him to a different part for our turn. It was ridiculous. To this day it still makes my blood boil.
Her blood alcohol level was twice the "normal" limit....whatever THAT means. What it did mean, is that at her age and her size she could have died that night. The amount of alcohol she drank was scary. She was extremely dehydrated and on an IV. Thankfully, she had vomited most of the poison out of her. Thankfully, her "friend" dropped her off somewhere that she would be cared for. Thankfully, her friend, Megan, was brave enough to wake up her parents. Gratefully, God has spared her life.
The ambulance was already outside their house but not up in Megan's room. Nosey neighbors were already looking out windows. I run upstairs and see Joe "yelling" at Syd trying to get her to "wake up". Megan and Anna, another friend, were crying. Vomit drools out of the side of Sydney's mouth. She makes a groaning sound, or some kind of vocal, glutteral, noise.
The paramedics are looking at her now...trying to get her to wake up. I don't remember much until they are loading her into the ambulance. He said she would be okay. What does that mean? She will be alive, but will only be making these glutteral noises for the rest of her life? What does that mean?!?
Joe takes Megan and I behind the ambulance. Again, this is so unreal! He is driving as fast as they are following the ambulance that has MY DAUGHTER in it. Are you kidding me? It's not a dream. It's not a dream. That's my kid in there. My child...flesh of my flesh. Unreality that is stark reality.
John is there by the time we get there.
They say the bad things that happen after a divorce are not punishment for the divorce, but that divorce IS the punishment. It is not God's will and does not please Him. My ex and I are, to say in the least, not friends. Most of the time we aren't even friendly although this has begun to change. The call to tell her dad was hard. It's not a call anyone wants to get or anyone wants to make.
We knew that it would be ugly...and it was. We asked them to get an officer to come down knowing whatever was going to happen when he got there, we would need help. This was not a time for accusations and "I told you so's". There are PLENTY to go around. Take a heaping serving-because NO ONE escapes that one!
He came in and dished out servings in front of everyone and the officer had him removed. They had to usher us (mom and stepdad) into a different area to let him visit. Then take him to a different part for our turn. It was ridiculous. To this day it still makes my blood boil.
Her blood alcohol level was twice the "normal" limit....whatever THAT means. What it did mean, is that at her age and her size she could have died that night. The amount of alcohol she drank was scary. She was extremely dehydrated and on an IV. Thankfully, she had vomited most of the poison out of her. Thankfully, her "friend" dropped her off somewhere that she would be cared for. Thankfully, her friend, Megan, was brave enough to wake up her parents. Gratefully, God has spared her life.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
There really is no bottom, you know?
October 10, 2010.
It was a beautiful night, really. We had a friend over with her two kids for dinner. Sydney and Ally ate dinner with us as well. The plan was to go to the park and watch a movie on those big blow up screens. Sydney and Ally, however, decided they were going to go to a movie at the theatre. John, in wisdom, stayed back with them. While Stephanie, Ashley, Campbell, Jenna and I head to the park, John drove the girls to the theatre and even watched them walk toward the window.
After the movie, our friend went home and we all went to bed. I have always been a good sleeper. I go, go, go until I crash. And then I sleep like a rock. All those years of having "momma" ears and waking up to the least little whimper or whine were LONG gone! I was out. But your momma instinct never goes away. Even with my phone only on vibrate, I awaken at 12:30 am to answer a call from a dear family friend (the one I mentioned earlier who treats my kids as her own). Sydney has been dropped off in front of her house. Her friend, only 15 and with no license, took her mother's car and drove, drunk, to drop Syndey off in the street...passed out in her own vomit.
Megan tried to get Sydney upstairs, but couldn't carry her dead weight. So she gets her big brother to carry Sydney upstairs in their house. Megan, more like a sister than friend, has put her in the shower to clean her up and changed her clothes. In all this, she could not get Sydney to wake up. Scared, she awakens her parents. Mona and Joe have tried to arouse her and cannot. This is when Mona calls me.
I'm awake now.
It was a beautiful night, really. We had a friend over with her two kids for dinner. Sydney and Ally ate dinner with us as well. The plan was to go to the park and watch a movie on those big blow up screens. Sydney and Ally, however, decided they were going to go to a movie at the theatre. John, in wisdom, stayed back with them. While Stephanie, Ashley, Campbell, Jenna and I head to the park, John drove the girls to the theatre and even watched them walk toward the window.
After the movie, our friend went home and we all went to bed. I have always been a good sleeper. I go, go, go until I crash. And then I sleep like a rock. All those years of having "momma" ears and waking up to the least little whimper or whine were LONG gone! I was out. But your momma instinct never goes away. Even with my phone only on vibrate, I awaken at 12:30 am to answer a call from a dear family friend (the one I mentioned earlier who treats my kids as her own). Sydney has been dropped off in front of her house. Her friend, only 15 and with no license, took her mother's car and drove, drunk, to drop Syndey off in the street...passed out in her own vomit.
Megan tried to get Sydney upstairs, but couldn't carry her dead weight. So she gets her big brother to carry Sydney upstairs in their house. Megan, more like a sister than friend, has put her in the shower to clean her up and changed her clothes. In all this, she could not get Sydney to wake up. Scared, she awakens her parents. Mona and Joe have tried to arouse her and cannot. This is when Mona calls me.
I'm awake now.
Refinement
Restoration was not yet to come.
1 Peter 1:6 & 7 tells us, "In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
Funny, how one sees oneself. The rose-colored glasses which we tend to view ourselves through are not the same spectacles that our Lord uses. How often I forget that we will not ever be perfected this side of Heaven, but our goal until then is to become more like Christ in the process. More often, I forget that the events of our lives are to bring the glory to God...to point to Him...always.
Well, there is more work to be done in me; and, the judicious God that He is, has some more working out to do in some others as well.
This crisis has come, and we have rallied. How dare I get complacent though!
1 Peter 1:6 & 7 tells us, "In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
Funny, how one sees oneself. The rose-colored glasses which we tend to view ourselves through are not the same spectacles that our Lord uses. How often I forget that we will not ever be perfected this side of Heaven, but our goal until then is to become more like Christ in the process. More often, I forget that the events of our lives are to bring the glory to God...to point to Him...always.
Well, there is more work to be done in me; and, the judicious God that He is, has some more working out to do in some others as well.
This crisis has come, and we have rallied. How dare I get complacent though!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Really, God?!
I am, immediately, on the computer asking my community of women in my life to pray for Edward. I make it through the day staying in touch with my husband, who has taken the day off to stay with Edward, doing a lot of praying on my own...pleading, begging, angry at Edward, shocked, probably even embarrassed that I have a son that smokes pot...seeing it as a reflection on me. You name it, I probably felt it.
We went in and talked with Mrs. Bowers and the SRO who brought Edward in. He ended up getting a ticket for only smoking the cigarette as he was a minor, 16 at the time. The SRO said the reason he only gave him a ticket for that was because he was so polite. Thanks?!? Not sure how to take that, but I guess grateful that he will only have this hurdle. He will be in their alternative education placement for 30 days with time out for good behavior. We ask that he serve the whole 30 days so he will learn a lesson. We are to take a drug awareness program offered through our Y with Edward as part of his condition for "release" as well. We also, through the recommendation of the sweet ladies at the CARE program at our Y, take parenting classes. I am again embarrassed that I come before women that I have known for 13 years. See, I worked full-time before going back to teaching as the Childcare Coordinator at the Y. These women have seen and known Edward since he was 2. In the back of my mind, I think they must think that I am some horrible parent to be in their office, eating humble pie, needing education for teenagers on drugs, sad and broken.
Our lives are temporarily upside down juggling our parenting classes, drug education classes and the two other kids under our charge. We hope Edward is learning from this experience and we learn along the way as Alanon-ish programs teach, that their behavior choices belong to them. Ironically, Edward has been going to alanon because his father, my ex-husband, we believe was an alcoholic. So the effectiveness of these new education classes may be in question, but we follow the rules. He has to appear before the judge to answer for his ticket. This was the best lesson for him yet. While we stood behind him, he was on his own to answer for his behavior. Little did he realize that he was also on his own to pay for it. The judge ordered him to write the surgeon general's warning, on every cigarette package, 100 times, take an additional tobacco education class and pay a fine. When he went to the window to "check out", he turned around to us for money and we just stood there shrugging our shoulders. He had to eat his own humble pie and tell them he didn't have the money and go before the judge and ask what he needed to do. It was priceless...and the suggestion of my husband whose wisdom in these situations far outweighs mine that is heavily emotionally laden. He had to find a way to earn the money to pay his fine. His choice, his consequences.
He held up his end. He paid his fine, went through classes, AEP at school and I think learned he is capable and responsible for his choices and the consequences that accompany them. Truly, I think he did learn this...but like so many of us, he was going to push the limits and test and learns this lesson SLOWLY.
I think the storm has passed over us. We have struggled with both teenagers now. Surely, it is time for the locusts to restore what has been eaten (Joel 2:25)
We went in and talked with Mrs. Bowers and the SRO who brought Edward in. He ended up getting a ticket for only smoking the cigarette as he was a minor, 16 at the time. The SRO said the reason he only gave him a ticket for that was because he was so polite. Thanks?!? Not sure how to take that, but I guess grateful that he will only have this hurdle. He will be in their alternative education placement for 30 days with time out for good behavior. We ask that he serve the whole 30 days so he will learn a lesson. We are to take a drug awareness program offered through our Y with Edward as part of his condition for "release" as well. We also, through the recommendation of the sweet ladies at the CARE program at our Y, take parenting classes. I am again embarrassed that I come before women that I have known for 13 years. See, I worked full-time before going back to teaching as the Childcare Coordinator at the Y. These women have seen and known Edward since he was 2. In the back of my mind, I think they must think that I am some horrible parent to be in their office, eating humble pie, needing education for teenagers on drugs, sad and broken.
Our lives are temporarily upside down juggling our parenting classes, drug education classes and the two other kids under our charge. We hope Edward is learning from this experience and we learn along the way as Alanon-ish programs teach, that their behavior choices belong to them. Ironically, Edward has been going to alanon because his father, my ex-husband, we believe was an alcoholic. So the effectiveness of these new education classes may be in question, but we follow the rules. He has to appear before the judge to answer for his ticket. This was the best lesson for him yet. While we stood behind him, he was on his own to answer for his behavior. Little did he realize that he was also on his own to pay for it. The judge ordered him to write the surgeon general's warning, on every cigarette package, 100 times, take an additional tobacco education class and pay a fine. When he went to the window to "check out", he turned around to us for money and we just stood there shrugging our shoulders. He had to eat his own humble pie and tell them he didn't have the money and go before the judge and ask what he needed to do. It was priceless...and the suggestion of my husband whose wisdom in these situations far outweighs mine that is heavily emotionally laden. He had to find a way to earn the money to pay his fine. His choice, his consequences.
He held up his end. He paid his fine, went through classes, AEP at school and I think learned he is capable and responsible for his choices and the consequences that accompany them. Truly, I think he did learn this...but like so many of us, he was going to push the limits and test and learns this lesson SLOWLY.
I think the storm has passed over us. We have struggled with both teenagers now. Surely, it is time for the locusts to restore what has been eaten (Joel 2:25)
Mrs. Bowers probably put me on speed dial after this year with my kids
It was the kids' (Edward's and Sydney's) assistant principal. I answered the phone thinking I knew what I was getting into, "Oh, no. Did Sydney faint at school?" I had called the school early that morning to let them know about Sydney's mono and ask that she be allowed to go to the clinic to rest if she needed. No, no. Mrs. Bowers was calling me about my son, Edward. The SRO (Safety Resource Officer...aka...the Po Po) brought Edward into her office. He had caught him before school in an alley off campus...smoking...a cigarette at that point. But, upon further conversation and a search he found a pipe and concluded, rightly so, that he was higher than a kite and had been smoking pot prior to his cigarette. I wanted to vomit. I teach so I am sitting at my desk at my school with no sub in sight to take my classes. I call my husband who remains amazingly calm when the going gets really tough. He went to bring Edward home...suspended for 3 days and bawling at this point.
No, not the bottom yet...just a stop along the way
Pull your head out, silly ostrich....
Sydney, always one to complain of sickness complained that her glands were swollen. I take news of this with a grain of salt. My husband, trained as a medic in the Air Force, looked at her and noticed the glands in the back of her neck were swollen. This is not your typical place for swelling, so something is amiss. No! It's not what you might be thinking. I take her to the doctor and we get the diagnosis that she has mono. This is not too tragic and frankly I was a tiny bit relieved. She plays lacrosse and because it's a contact sport of sorts she has been "benched" for fall ball. This translates in to no driving to practices every day for mom and games in random places. Sydney slept all weekend. On Tuesday she returns to school to try to make it through the day.
I sit at work, at this point, on the phone when I see a call coming through from one of the kids' school numbers. Oh no, I panic that we have sent her back too early and she has fainted at school. At this point, the ostrich in me, ever the Pollyanna, thinks we've hit our lows...it can only go up from here. I was not prepared for what came next.
Sydney, always one to complain of sickness complained that her glands were swollen. I take news of this with a grain of salt. My husband, trained as a medic in the Air Force, looked at her and noticed the glands in the back of her neck were swollen. This is not your typical place for swelling, so something is amiss. No! It's not what you might be thinking. I take her to the doctor and we get the diagnosis that she has mono. This is not too tragic and frankly I was a tiny bit relieved. She plays lacrosse and because it's a contact sport of sorts she has been "benched" for fall ball. This translates in to no driving to practices every day for mom and games in random places. Sydney slept all weekend. On Tuesday she returns to school to try to make it through the day.
I sit at work, at this point, on the phone when I see a call coming through from one of the kids' school numbers. Oh no, I panic that we have sent her back too early and she has fainted at school. At this point, the ostrich in me, ever the Pollyanna, thinks we've hit our lows...it can only go up from here. I was not prepared for what came next.
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