Bad Season on Repeat

I can see it in her eyes. She’s worried and I am double worried. Today makes 7 days straight with a migraine. It’s there during the night, when she wakes up and it gets more intense by the afternoon. The pain comes from the same place as last time and no medication- over the counter or prescribed – is working. Yesterday, she asked, “So is it back? I feel like it’s the same as last time, mom.” I don’t answer because I don’t want to believe that she may be facing another bad season of pain. This would be the 3rd round in less than a year that Mia faces prolonged unbreakable migraines. Last fall, the migraine lasted 3 months straight. Then in April, it was a month long migraine where she could not be in school, go outdoors or live her life without pain. The only solution each time has been hospitalizations to receive a 3 day strong pain medication by IV. So, of course I avoid the question, say a pleading pray for help and try to find the Motrin bottle to see if by chance it will work this time.

Last fall’s migraine season really robbed me of my optimism and hope. Some of you read about it in my last blog. That was a new experience for me- the uber optimist. Still, during that first season of Mia’s migraines, I began to relook and rebuild my tool box and dusting off some of the “tools” from the past. I am realizing that we may be in another bad season, so I go and pick up my “box”, open it and take out some much needed tools. Here’s what I am reaching for these days:

  1. A group chat. Most day my girlfriend chat is full of swapping kid stories, plans for the day and what to make for dinner. But there have been numerous days where my first text starts with, “Girls, I am having a rough day.” I don’t like to be that person who needs help or who needs to draw on others for strength. I much prefer to be the supporter. Still, I need encouragement for the day sometimes. And I need to let those close to me know it. So, I put myself out there. It started a few years back during Mia’s brain surgeries. I just made a separate chat, told them this where I would update and it was where I would be real with them. I did it because I knew without some friends who knew the real me- I would fall apart and not be able to be the strong mom Mia needed.
  2. A journal. Obviously, I like writing. Lol. But, to put my most raw emotions onto paper is not usually my thing. I tend to keep journaling to writing quotes, thoughts on a scripture or encouraging words. So this tool, I had to sharpen and refine during last fall. Journaling was suggested by my counselor (another excellent tool to have!) only this time she wanted me to write it all – grief, anger, sadness. So I tried it. It took some time to really write those feelings down because there were so many that they were jumbled up together. But I got the hang of it. And when April rolled around and I felt helpless as a mom again, there are pages in my journal heavy with my emotions. And once they were purged from my heart to my page…well, I just felt a release and had space in my mind and heart for creative ways to help Mia and keep our family life running.
  3. A gym. I have never loved to exercise. I am not a person to feel stress relief or a runner’s high from an hour of sweat. No thanks. Still, I first picked up this tool in 2010 when doctors said Mia was not expected to live and I need something other than my heart to hurt. That’s when I took up running; it was my personal space where I could mingle tears with sweat. Inwardly, I also knew I needed to be healthy for the rounds of sleepless nights, added stress on my body, hospital food and tension in my muscles. While I have wanted to throw this tool out many, many, many times…I somehow found a way to keep it in my tool chest. This year has been full of sleepless nights and I am really glad at least my body can sustain the strain.

So those are my favorite tools currently. The key is that in every season to either find new tools (like last year’s counselor!) or refine the ones I have used before. And everyone’s box looks different. It might be a favorite walking trail, a soul soothing podcast, a playlist of worship songs, a go-to person or a therapist. 

Life is tough, full of good and bad seasons, and doing it without a growing toolbox can lesson the chances of making it out stronger, wiser and better. I don’t want that for me, Mia or my family.

So, with toolbox in hand, Mia and I head to Houston today to add a new doctor, a pain specialist, to her Texas Children’s team. My prayer is that we find something that stops the pain- but if not, one of her neurologists has already recommended another hospital stay. Whatever it may be…with toolbox in hand, this mom is as ready as I can be for what this season brings.

Thank you for the continued prayers for our brave Mia. She continues to amaze us with her strength in this bad seasons of her life.

Reflections from a Bad Season

When My Optimism Failed Me

I am the uber optimist. “It will work out.” “This is just temporary.” “I can figure it out.” Those words had gotten me thru hard times in the past. But this last season knocked me to the floor. Feelings of hopelessness and helplessness bombarded me daily and I did not know how to handle them.

Really, it was most horrible for my daughter Mia. She was living with a migraine that for months would not go away- not while she slept, not when she woke up, not when she took endless medications and trips to the ER. But I was in my own hell because I was helpless as a mom to do anything to help her. I would stay up through the night, going over what new thing we needed to “try” the next day, racking my brain to figure out what was causing the migraine and being mad at myself that I must be missing something. 

Every morning we would try a new med, a new holistic treatment or way to start the morning. Nothing was working.  I would take her to the ER. No change. We met with new doctors. Tried all sorts of medications. The migraine stayed. After the first month I had hit a wall of hopelessness. And I don’t do hopelessness. We optimists usually find the “roses” even in a bad season of life.

All I could do was sit with her, hold her head in my lap and tell her that we would somehow find a solution. And I felt like a failure as a mom. I also began to feel abandoned by God-who we really really need in this moment.

 “Where are you God? I don’t see You anywhere in all this.” “Frankly this seems cruel that you are not here to help.” Those phrases were on repeat in my mind last fall. It was a horrible time. 

And then one day something happened. I shifted my prayers. It went from “please take this away from Mia” to “please just comfort her today; “please, give her strength to get thru the day” “please, help her in her weakness” “help me to see You in this season; I know you don’t leave us, but I can’t find You in all this.”

With that prayer shift came a perspective shift. For the first time I remembered that God was there, He had not abandoned Mia. It was just that in this season, He was the Comforter. He was the Strength for the day when we did not have anything left. While I wanted Him to be the Healer, the Rescuer, the Vindicator during this terrible time, we were to experience His other characteristics that He promises to be for us.  

When I allowed my heart and mind to see He was there in the middle of this mess-in a way different from what I wanted or expected- I found comfort. I suddenly saw that:

  • He was there as Mia’s strength as she made it from day to day for months. Honestly, I had a migraine for an evening and felt crippled. She had one for 3 months! “Ok, God I see You are here.”
  • He was there when the idea came that maybe I should see a counselor to help me in my grief. It helped tremendously. “Thank you God for that push.”
  • He was there in a song playing on the radio that had me crying my eyes out and became my anthem for this terrible season. (CeCe Winan’s “Believe for It”- link below) “I feel You God.”
  • He was there in the group of friends that came into my life a few years back. He knew I would need to lean on them in this time. “God, You knew what I needed even before this terrible time.”
  • He was there as doors to new doctors opened because of the urgency of Mia’s situation. “Thanks God for making a way in the wilderness.”
  • He was there, helping her to sleep thru most nights even with the pain. “God, You are her Comforter.”
  • He was there as Jaime and I drew closer together, not further apart, under the strain of our own feelings of helplessness and confusion. “God, You were the Peace we needed.”
  • He was there in the recesses of my mind that told me “this too shall pass,” “it won’t be like this forever”. I know it was His quiet, still voice that pushed me through the days. “God, thank You for Your encouraging words.”

Now I see why He is called the “God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3). Last fall, He showed up to our home to just be our kind friend, to provide wisdom, to give us the strength for just one more day and to comfort us in our grief and pain. I learned that He is no less God in the bad times.

We have recently moved out of that season and into a more hopeful, happy season. My optimistic self is rebounding! A hospital stay and eight rounds of very strong IV medications and Mia’s migraine broke. But I won’t forget that I discovered a new side of God. I saw Him in a new way last fall.

My encouragement to you would be to do what I did- shift the prayers and let your perspective shift too. Ask Him to show you where He is. He’s there; He has not left. But you may, like me, need His help to open your eyes to who and where He is in this time. He is providing what you need for today. I just pray that you see it is enough. You are going to make it. You can when God is your Comforter, Strength and help in time of trouble.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles.2 Corinthians 1:3-4

God is our refuge and strength, a helper who is always found in times of trouble.” Psalm 46:1

Cece Winan’s song “Believe for It”

I am not my Circumstances

“Mom, are you sad you have a daughter like me?” I was busy counting her nightly pills so it took a moment for her words to sink in. But when I turned to look, I saw the tears ready to spill over in her eyes as she waited for my reply. I knew this moment would matter- what I said was going to matter. Her 14 year old heart lay open, bare and waiting to hear from me. I quickly said a prayer in my head, “Please God, how do I answer in a way that she will see herself the way I do?”

See, my daughter Mia has a lot going on. She has been sick for much of her life. Of course it’s not a daily thing now, but rarely does a week go by without a seizure, migraine or just feeling crummy from her anxiety and stress of getting through her day with only half the tools to do it. What started as a cancer diagnosis at age 4 has led to epilepsy, 4 brain surgeries and currently a sharp increase in the amount of weekly seizures. Then add the fact that she has pretty significant delays in school, cognitive disabilities in some areas, weekly therapies and you can see where her self esteem lies.

So when the question came, “Are you sad to have a daughter like me,” I knew she had become consumed with all the negatives she was facing. Her focus that day, that week, that season was on all that she couldn’t do, the things that scared her, the stress of not being able to control outcomes, the constant comparing herself to others and the feeling that she is lacking.

You know, it gets really really easy to focus on the repercussions and fallout of bad things that have happened to us. Suddenly we begin to believe it’s who we are innately- an illness that left us permanently scarred, an abandonment that broke your heart, a dream that came crashing down, an expectation that isn’t being met. There is nothing fair about cancer and there was nothing fair about what happened to you. But, it is not you. It can not define who you are on the inside- the person you were born to be. It may be a part of you….but it is not the whole of you.

Without doing too much of a deep dive into the psychology of self, just know that three things make up how we would answer the question, “Who am I?”. Your “self” is made up of your self-awareness, self-concept and self-esteem. Your self-esteem is like the evaluation of how you see yourself. So when that overall estimation of self is negative, you will feel worthless and have low self-esteem. (McCornack & Morrison, 2019)

Now when Mia, and maybe some of us, look over our life we see things like sickness, delays, not measuring up and we say “well, my estimation of myself is that I am not enough.”

But nothing could be farther from the truth. Yes, you have scars and broken pieces…but you are not those things. Still, as humans, we will usually focus on the negative waaaaay more than the positive. I’m sure I am not the only one who can hear 10 good things about myself and one negative and there I go…consumed with the one bad thing. Getting out of that rut is not easy!

Here’s what I did. I turned to Mia, wrapped her in my arms and said, “You are the best daughter I could ever have asked God for. You are adventurous, funny, kind to people, ready for any challenge, a travel-lover, my best partner in shopping, able to do very hard things, a survivor, brave and strong. That is who you are.”

I had to remind her to evaluate herself based on her strengths, not the negative things that have happened in her life.

marthagallen: This is a good one to remember | Words, Inspirational quotes,  Inspirational words

And maybe you need that reminder too. While negative things may have left you bruised, they are not you. You are brave. You are strong. You have strength you never you knew you had until you had to use it. You are smart. Amidst terrible circumstances, you have survived! You are beautiful. You can do this!

Now shake off that negative mindset, reflect on at least one of your strengths these next 24 hours, get around someone who will remind you of your true self, write it down and post it so you can be reminded daily, ask God to show you your strengths. Do something to change the way you see yourself! Listen, you were not made to feel defeated and less than; you were made to defeat hard things.

Go wrangle that mind of yours and remember….you are great!

Source: Steven McCornack & Kelly Morrison, Reflect & Relate, 5th ed. (Bedford/St.Martins, 2019)

Who You are in Hard Times

I avoid doing hard things. Worst yet, I am a flight person- not usually a fight person. So put those two things together and you have a disaster waiting to happen. And I have felt the “flight” feeling at the WORST time of my life. As in, my daughter was literally dying in front of me and I pictured myself running out of the hospital and getting as far away from the current situation as possible. Not something I am proud to admit. But it’s true. Here’s a glimpse of that day:

A few hours after Mia began chemotherapy, she was flung into a very severe downward spiral: she was in respiratory distress; all the cancer cells had burst and were rapidly poisoning her organs. The doctors were pumping so much fluid into her she had literally swelled up like a balloon within minutes, and I could hear the fluid in her chest and lungs as she tried hard to breathe. Worst of all, Mia was awake for all of this.

As the Mommy, I knew I needed to shield her from the worried, bewildered looks of the team of nurses and doctors as they tried to figure out what to do. Mia began to thrash around and fight, so I leaned over her upper chest, shielding her eyes from the rest of the room and the chaos around her. I pressed gently over her, singing into her ear her two favorite nursery songs that I made up for her when she was a baby. As I sang, I changed up the words a little: “You are the bravest girl, you are the best girl, you are the biggest girl in the whole wide world. And yes, I love you, I really love you. You are the bravest girl.”

I sang it over, and over, and over for the next hour, trying to provide something steady, dependable, soothing to my baby girl. Mia calmed a bit, but I became increasingly aware of my own internal disquiet: I felt all sorts of anxieties and cold raw fear bubble up within me. As I was singing to my daughter and the doctors were scrambling to save her life, there were a few moments when I literally saw myself walking out of the hospital room, running down the street, and getting as far away from this hospital bed as possible. My impulse to flee seemed so unnatural to me as a mom, so horrible, but also so human. At the time, I felt piercing guilt; “I must be a horrible parent for visualizing running from my dying child,” said my thoughts. Even as that feeling of flight came, I squashed it. I needed to put the jumbled mixture of guilt, anxiety, and the impulse to evade aside—I needed to continue to fight; after all, my daughter was in the fight of her life.

Man, I hated that day; it is forever seared in my brain. Looking back, I know those thoughts of running were simply to get away from the pain and fear that at any moment I could lose my child, my baby girl, the most precious gift I had ever asked God to give me. And yet, it is one of my prouder moments. Maybe I would not have fled the hospital, but the normal Emily would have stepped away from the bed, covered my face and hovered in the hallway as the doctors tried to save her. “Let it be on them” I was thinking at the time. And yet I didn’t. I stayed, knowing it could be my last moments with her. It has been one of the hardest times of my life, but another stronger thought kept playing in my head. “When this hard time passes, will you be proud of who you were during it?”

I wish I could say from that point on in my life I never took flight…I really wish I could, but I can’t. I have still had many moments where I just ignored the warning signs, changed the subject of a conversation or faked optimism to avoid having to stay in the fight for something….like a relationship or healing painful emotions or making a touch decision. Ugh. I have done it too many times.

And now, guess what? That girl who was fighting for her life on a hospital bed well now she is a pre-teen with the added bonus of having learning and speech difficulties. I see, in her, days where she just wants to run from the daily onslaught of anxiety in social settings, struggling to learn something that comes easy to her peers and having to navigate the hormones of a 13 year old! I watch her struggle to not shut down, give up or just “take a break” from her reality. And I am reminded how all of us humans have to fight the same thing over and over again. It is sooooo much easier to just check out from our situation. But that means checking out from our potential, too. If you quit or give up you may also be giving up on the best part of who you were meant to be and the best part of your life. Yikes, that’s a hard consequence for avoiding hardships, right? See, here’s the crazy truth…. these hard times, if we stay in the fight and not go for flight, they bring out the best of us. There are so many amazing, incredible qualities inside you and when life is smooth, easy and uncomplicated you aren’t always required to use them. But when the hard times come, when you have to make hard decisions, function under high stress, heartache and brokenness, well that is when you find out just how strong you are.

I recently spent a week in Guatemala as part of a team traveling with author and motivational speaker John Maxwell. Throughout the week he kept saying, “Everything worthwhile is uphill. Everything.”

Hiking up the Schwalmere

So what is that uphill in your life? Maybe what’s worthwhile is a new career, pursuing a secret dream you have had, getting out of an unhealthy rut in life or breaking free from a toxic relationship. I am sure hard times come along the way, NO; I know they will, but the only way to reach the summit of that mountain…is to travel through the hard times. And you can do it…you can! You’ve got it in you; God put it in there from the moment you were conceived. And if you struggle to believe you can make it, then it’s time to find someone in your life that will remind you. Maybe it’s a best friend, a sibling or a mentor. Heck, maybe it’s a great audiobook that has a great message (lately that’s been my new favorite way to boost my confidence!)

Someone you definitely have is the Lord, who defines Himself as a Comforter, Teacher and Friend.

So maybe you are struggling to find your footing as you climb up a steep part of your hill. Maybe you’ve slipped, fallen a bit and have a bruised foot. And now the thoughts are coming, telling you to just stop, give up and move to the next thing. But don’t do it, GET UP! You have to keep going. Hard times are here, but your success, your dreams, your life is on the other side of that hardship. Someone said it like this:

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”

So make being strong, being brave the only choice you have to make it to the top of your mountain.

Woman on Mountain top

Much love and confidence in you,

Emily

 

 

 

No Control but Brave

Letting GoI knew Monday was going to be crazy busy…a new job orientation meant getting kids to school early. Already being “on time” is a struggle for me, so being early is a real challenge. Anyway, it got done and the day was on a roll. Suddenly an hour in my afternoon opened up and I knew exactly what to do. Get a pedicure. I had been wearing closed toe shoes for the past week and let me tell you, with this South Texas heat, just having clothes on is a challenge. That’s how bad my toes looked. First world problems, I know!

Just as I turned into the nail salon parking lot my phone rang. Hmm, Mia’s school, wonder what that’s all about? It was the nurse informing me that Mia was having seizures. Now, having been in the seizure world for quite a while I was not immediately rattled. I asked, “How long? Is she convulsing?” The response was not good, she’d had 2 of them, 5 minutes each, and yes, she had full body shakes. So, of course, I abandoned my pedicure plan and I hauled it back to the little town where she attends school. And I was upset. Ok honestly, I was mad. Ugh. I had one hour to call my own that I had control of and now it was gone. Yes, I felt guilty for feeling that way and yes, of course, the feeling was brief- but dang it! I was frustrated and angry that I had once again lost control of a silly hour due to something out of my control… seizures.

You would think by now I’d be comfortable living like this. Starting from the day she was diagnosed with cancer back in 2010, we have been living with “unpredictable days.” Sometimes it was a sudden drop in her immune system or gran mal seizures due to brewing infections or just a really nasty migraine. Regardless, everything changes in that moment and plans are cancelled to accommodate either a quiet day at home or a few days in the hospital.

On a cold dreary day in February as I stood in a quiet pediatric oncology floor miles away from home, cancer taught me a life changing lesson. A lesson in just how little control I really had in life.

By now our family had been living in the cancer world for about a month. It was horrifying. Everything that could have gone wrong had happened. On day one of treatment, Mia was put in a coma just to see if she would even survive the devastating effects that her first round of chemotherapy had caused. After a week in her induced coma, she came out of it, but was a very different girl. She did not speak, only stared off at the walls and when the side effects began to hit- oh boy, they were brutal. She had every single one on the list, including those on the “rare” column that the doctors are required to share with you. All cancer moms know about this list. It’s horrifying to read.

Fifteen days into treatment we found out she had a lung infection….and absolutely no immune system. Within two hours, Mia and I were airlifted to a hospital a few hours away and soon informed that Mia needed to undergo a procedure to extract fluid from her lungs. The catch was that she might not live through this procedure. So for the third time, we huddled around her bed, expressing how much we loved her and how brave she was. Then I watched them wheel her away, not knowing if that was the last time I would ever see her. Ugh. I am tearing up even now as I write this. It was a horrible moment I will not ever forget. But thank you God, a few hours later she was back in her hospital room-alive! Still, every day was a punch from cancer. Every day we waited to see what new challenges she would face. Needless to say, everything was in chaos and out of control

Now here is a lesson I am glad I learned, but it happened in the most horrible circumstance. Isn’t that how it goes sometimes?? We learn the most (especially about ourselves) in the worst times of our life.

So, we were in this hospital and things were so bad. Mia had gone into a vegetative state- she could not walk, talk, show emotion or move her arms, and the side effects were in full force. Due to the intensity of mouth sores, she was also placed on a feeding tube and the pain was unbearable for her. Oh, but that was not the worst part. After her first spinal tap, she stepped into a deeper state of disconnect from us and an MRI showed that the chemotherapy caused swelling on her brain. The options Jaime and I were given: 1) take her home, wait for the cancer to return, run its course and she would die or 2) continue to give her chemotherapy and let it destroy her body and brain.

SERIOUSLY??!! What parent ever wants to make that choice! I think of all the other families who have been forced to make tough choices and my heart hurts for them.

That day was one of the eeriest I have ever experienced. I remember walking with Jaime down the quiet hall of the pediatric oncology floor. It was a cold Friday afternoon and the dreariness outside matched every feeling I had inside, not to mention the not-so-cheery yellow walls that I had been seeing for weeks now. At the end of the hall, we stopped and just stared out the window; I don’t think either one of us wanted to start this conversation. I remember noticing how life was moving along for everyone down on the street below, but for us it was at a standstill. I finally turned slowly to look at Jaime and for some reason, the first thing I asked was: “If Mia dies, who are you going to be?” And while I was asking Jaime, I was really asking myself the same question. If the worst thing that I can ever perceive happening comes, what will I become? Now why that was my first question, I will never know. BUT, it was the most important question I could have asked myself because it led to a clear answer and my first glimpse into feeling freedom. Let me explain what I mean.

See, finding out you have ZERO control over the outcome for your life or your child’s can be so intensely scary. As moms we control pretty much everything about our child’s life, well at least for the first 10 to 13 years- what they eat, what they wear, where they go to school, which doctors will care for them. Being able to make all these decisions can give us the sense of control- so when it becomes glaringly obvious that we don’t have control, (thank you, cancer and epilepsy) we can lose ourselves. And all the things we worked hard to become- patient, compassionate, faithful, trusting in God, generous, soft hearted, can quickly change. Losing control really knows how to mess with emotions.

Trust me, I wish that life was all unicorns and rainbows and that if we make all the right choices and make things work just right (an attempt at control maybe??), it will go easy on us. But no, that’s not going to happen. Life is hard. Life is not fair. Life is not kind. I mean look at all these incredibly brave, young, innocent kids who have battled cancer like Mia- many of whom have NOT been able beat it. Now that is really, really not fair. And yet, if ever visit a pediatric oncology clinic, you know what you will hear? Laughing, giggling and happy chatter. Sure, there will be the occasional cries and screams- but these kids are incredible. They rebound back to themselves. They take the hits, but they don’t stay down.

So when I found myself asking, “Who are you going to be?” if she does not make it or never returns to her happy, lovable old self, I took a deep breathe and thought, Nope, I am not going to lose myself in this out of control situation. I am going to still love God. I am still going to look to Him for guidance. I am still going to be a soft, considerate and strong wife and mom. I am going to work at being the best version of me. Now, I have not had to face the worst thing a mother can face, so maybe it would have changed. When I answered this question, I definitely left room in my heart for a time of anger towards God, life and enormous, unimaginable grief. BUT- I also knew that if I let this out-of-control life I was living cause me to leave the woman I worked to become, then it was all for nothing. Just because I had no control over what life was going to hand me, did not mean I could NOT have control over myself. I knew I was not in control of whether Mia lived or died, whether she would ever be able to walk or talk, if the chemo would bring on more side effects- I knew nothing EXCEPT that I was going to be the best mother I could be for her. That was it. It was the only thing I had control over: who I was going to be for her, for my young son, my stepsons and Jaime. See, they were watching me, and they, too, had their lives turned upside down. But they needed something stable, someone that let them know that when life was out of control, someone would remain in control. For now it needed to be that their mom was going to stay strong and be brave in the face of the uncontrollable. It was not easy or fun. And sometimes I totally blew it and had to start all over again by giving myself a pep talk and refocusing.

The author Lysa Terkeurst puts it like this: “I can face things that are out of my control and not BE out of control.” (Unglued: Making Wise Choices in the Midst of Raw Emotions) Hard to do…but it can be done. I mean seriously, we are women! We are such incredibly strong humans. We run a household, work, grow other humans in our bellies, push that human out and ensure everyone is fed, secure and relatively happy (the teen years are a whole different animal). I mean we do A LOT with so little sometimes. We only get a little affirmation, support, sleep, time to ourselves (like for a pedicure!) and yet we push through. We do everything we can to keep things under control but when things fall apart, we have to be careful that we don’t lost who we were meant to be. Sometimes bad things just happen.

You were the best wife and he still cheated. He still left. You were a great daughter, but a parent still abandoned you. You were a great supportive mom, but your kid seems to hate everything about you or he has made some really bad choices. You were a great support to your friend, but she turned on you. You did everything right at work, but you were still overlooked for a promotion. And maybe like me, you’ve learned just how little control you really get to have. So what are you doing to BE in these times?

How about being brave? Have courage. Remember, that means showing strength in the face of pain and difficulties. We can break a leg and still keep a schedule, but somehow a broken heart, broken expectation, broken family…that can cripple us and turn us into something we actually don’t want to be. It can make us resentful, unforgiving, mean and hateful. Yikes. And that can lead to us making some very bad choices.

So, I knew that as I stood in that very sad hallway surrounded by these young brave cancer patients that I had a choice. I could become forever angry, resentful, full of self-pity and remorse. But that decision came at a cost and I knew it. Here is the price I was not willing to pay: that my 20 month old son would grow up with a bitter, angry mother who modeled what happens when hard times come, that my marriage would eventually deteriorate and it would be the end of our family. It was too high a price to pay.

That same choice is yours. Unfortunately we will all face situations where the only thing controllable is ourselves. So who are you going to be? I really hope it’s brave, strong, faithful, kind and victorious! Because you know what? Many times the bad times are temporary- they won’t last forever. Like last Monday.

After a brief visit to the ER for a CAT scan and some blood work, Mia was released and the rest of this week has been uneventful. Still, I know more of these days will come. SO, you know what I am going to do? Maybe have a 30 second pity party (just being real here)…then tell myself to suck it up and be the best version of me in the situation….even with chipped toenails in my closed toe shoes.

 

 

Brave & Sad at Once

I could feel the knot in my throat that would in seconds turn to tears. Was this how it would be every year; every first day of school? No, the knot was not because I was mourning the end of summer or that my kids are growing up (sure, those tears come…but let’s be honest mostly we are a little excited, kind relieved, right?!). This knot came as I walked out of the special education unit where I left my new 7th grade daughter who was feeling vulnerable and scarred. And as I drove away I was mad and sad. You probably know those combination of feelings. Then the mantra plays in my head, “It’s not FAIR! After everything she has had to fight for- why this too?”

You see about 8 years ago things in my life really broke. I learned real quick what genuine heartbreak felt like and every day since then has been me figuring out how to heal from the break. So today, it’s like I just bumped the sensitive scar I carry on my heart. It stings and then leaves a dull pain for awhile.

January 11th , 2010 is a day I’ll never forget. The Salazar’s world changed at 9:30 a.m. on a Monday morning. Our four-year-old daughter, Mia, was very pale, weak, and lethargic. We had been to the doctor a few days before, but she was getting worse.

At the doctor’s office, her pediatrician checked Mia’s stomach. I remember he got a strange look on his face when he felt under her ribs. He said, “Her liver and spleen are enlarged. We need to get some blood work.” In my mind, that confirmed my original, intuitive diagnosis. H1N1 had been all over the news, and I sure this was the health crisis we were about to face. Oh, how wrong I was.

As our pediatrician steadied Mia for blood work, it took four tries just to get a small amount of blood from her arm. After the horrible process Mia fell quickly asleep; meanwhile, I phoned Jaime, my husband, to give him an update on Mia’s prognosis: “They want to run some tests. She may be pretty sick, and I’ll need to cancel my meeting today. I’ll keep you posted.”

I was restructuring my day in my mind, sitting in a chair with Mia on my lap when her pediatrician walked back in. He sat down on the doctor’s stool. A bad feeling began to creep through my body. This doctor never sat down. Now he was not only sitting down but also pulling the chair closer to Mia and me. He also had a sad, worried look on his face.

He inched the chair closer, looking down as he wheeled toward us. Then he looked up, his mouth formulating words whose weight I could not yet feel. “I think it’s leukemia.”

What? My brain jumped to immediate denial. No, it’s not that; it can’t be that. And yet, looking into her doctor’s eyes while Mia lay sleeping on my lap, I knew he was serious. A single tear ran down my face. At that exact moment my phone rang. I looked down, and it was Jaime calling for another update. I handed my cell phone to the doctor and told him to please inform my husband, Jaime. I just knew there was no way I could say the word leukemia. Again, I heard the doctor say, “I think it’s leukemia,” and again the words hung heavily in the air. I refused to let them settle into my brain, to become a reality.

The doctor handed the phone back to me and said that in the next few hours an oncologist would be calling to set up an appointment to see Mia. The appointment would be scheduled for later that day. Already, things were setting into motion too quickly, giving everything a surreal quality.

I looked down at Mia. She was so pale; the bags under her eyes were now so evident to me. She had slept through the last ten horrible minutes that had just radically changed our lives. I pulled her in tighter for a moment, kissed her head, and lifted her to my shoulder. That bad feeling in my stomach had now turned into a solid boulder, and I felt the weight of it through my entire body as I carried Mia out of the doctor’s office. I don’t remember how I got her into her car seat and then drove the few miles to my parents’ house, where we would wait for the oncologist’s call; I especially don’t remember having any feeling, thought, or plan as to what would happen next.

And that was the start of a gut wrenching and still a miraculous journey. Three times I have had doctors lead me to her bedside to say “goodbye” because they were certain she would not live past the next few hours. I still don’t remember exactly what I said that first time; I mean no parent is ever ever prepared for that moment and it had only been 36 hours since I first walked into the pediatrician’s office on January 11th. But one thing I remember whispering in my sweet daughter’s ear as she was fighting for her life. I told her, “You are so brave and you are so strong.”

So, as I drive down the road back home I tell myself the same thing. “You are so brave and you are so strong.” When I get home, I turn on some worship music as I wash the dishes and then tune into a great podcast that will speak life to my soul.  I remind myself of all the times God showed up even while at the moment there’s still a bit of the mad feelings hovering below the surface. But I do it anyway. I remember that NO, she did not die even when I told her goodbye. NO the cancer miraculously has never returned. NO she did not remain an invalid and instead relearned to walk, talk and live a life when doctors say that may never happen. And yet, cancer still broke things. It broke the dreams and plans I had of what my only daughter’s life would be like. So on day’s like today I have to remember there have been so many brave moments. For her of course, she’s been the bravest. But for me as well. Being brave in the face of a broken heart, a broken dream, a broken relationship is hard…so, so hard. Having courage when you can’t control how her life will turn out….or yours.

And so I think of all the women who are in the thick of their brokenness…a broken marriage, a broken family, a broken dream, a broken heart. To you, I would say “You are brave. You are strong.” Being BRAVE means showing mental and moral strength to face fear, danger or difficulty (Merriam-Webster). You can do that! Yes, you can! I have met so many brave women in my life- who have suffered more brokenness in their lives and I have seen them set their face towards that difficulty and keep moving. And you know what it takes to be brave….COURAGE. It’s actually part of the brave definition- showing courage. 

So what will it take for you to be strong in the face of your pain, your difficulty, the piece of you that is broken? Maybe it means turning on some worship music, sharing with a good friend or journaling. I’m doing all 3 today! But do something- you have to CHOOSE to be brave. You have to CHOOSE to have courage.

Life is not going to always go easy on you and being brave leads to greatness DESPITE having parts of you that are in some stage of brokenness- whether it’s a fresh wound, a thin scab or a permanent skin-thickened scar. I bet this woman mentioned in the Bible had her own scars and yet she did what it took to be brave.

“She is clothed with strength and dignity and she laughs without fear of the future.” Proverbs 31:25. 

Let’s be that kind of woman today! I’m going for it.

Emily Ordeman-Salazar