Facing Trigger Days

I don't like to dwell or to allow myself to get lost in thoughts about "how life should be."

I find it to be a dangerous path, a slippery slope per say. 

One that quickly becomes consuming and wreaks havoc on my emotional state. 

For me, it can conjure bitterness, lead to self doubt, and allow anger to resonate.

Fond reflection and remembering the good are quite different but dwelling in a world that is not reality is yet another. But, it is human nature. And in the week leading to what should have been my sixth wedding anniversary I felt the emotions seeping into every aspect of life like a weight thrust upon my shoulders. It would be an outright lie to say that I didn't think a time or two about how 7.26 should look or think about how the vows promised were deeply broken. It wouldn't be true if I said that it didn't hurt or sting to face a day that had long represented one of my most highly regarded and happiest moments. And it certainly would be a lie if I attempted to claim that I never wondered if he remembered or perhaps more so, if he even cared. 

How quickly those reflections can damage the spirit. How quickly they can strip away the truth and replace it with inadequacy, anger, or sorrow. How quickly that little voice can lose sight of the hope and redemption that has been refueling the soul. 

So, I rose with the sun and set out for a run. To clear my mind and my spirit in preparation of a day that for the first time in six years was without significance.  A 'trigger day' as my counselor so endearing calls them. As I ran along an open field, a big yellow butterfly crossed my path and fluttered along with me. I couldn't help but grim as tears of joy welled up. 

Perhaps one of the biggest lessons I have learned over the past year is that when I surrender and allow God to work, He meets me in my moments of greatest need. A yellow butterfly, as I was attempting to still my spirit to face a day that came with such weight, provided a serene peace.

There is hope, there is joy, and there is the promise of a future. 

There is life, there is peace, and there is good to come. 

Grandparents

I have the privilege of something most don't and it is not something I take lightly.

I know it is rare but I am blessed to say that all four of my grandparents are still living. 

They have been a large part of my life and the older I get, the more I value the gift of time with them. I get sentimental thinking about their farms, the stories of days gone by, and of material things they value. 

So, I make it a point when I go to visit to bring along my camera.

Because I know that someday these times will be memories.

Someday, I want to be able to share with my grandchild like they have shared with me. 

To tell about how much life has changed or about secret family recipes or about the lessons taught to me. I want to share about my times with them and how much they (and grandma's cooking) meant to me. 

And my siblings, they have come to really love that I bring my camera along.

And since they love it so, I am nice enough to allow them pose for photos too!

I am not really sorry for making them join in my picture taking fun...someday they will thank me.

Concluding Year 28

It is my birthday and perhaps my most favorite birthday of all.

Sure my 16th and 21st felt huge at the time because they brought new found freedom 

(although for the record I was the dd on my 21st...safety first friends!) but this is perhaps my most favorite for no other reason than because it came.

I can easily remember this time last year feeling like life would never go on.

I was empty and broken and yet hadn't even learned that there was more to endure. I was struggling to figure out how to feel 'normal' or 'whole' in the face of death and grief. No matter what I did, nothing ever seemed to feel right. I suppressed my pain to avoid saddening others and because openly talking about death was taboo. And dealing with the reality of  life was unbearable.  I cried every morning as I got out of bed, each time I was alone in my car, in the shower, behind my sunglasses as I walked the neighborhood, and each night as I tossed and turned in bed.

I could not foresee ever feeling anything but broken again.

I was in a deep, dark place with an expressionless face and void of emotion.

In my brothers words, "I had become a shell."

I can remember looking at myself in the mirror one day and not recognizing the reflection.  All I could see was emptiness in my eyes.

 

It was in that moment that I told myself that it was time to start fighting.

To dive in head first, face the pain, and deal with each and every emotion as they came.

I had no idea what that meant but I knew if I didn't fight, 29 may never come.

And so evolved my 'Year 28 bucket list'...a list of things to strive for in my year of grief. It was filled with dreams I thought might help to rebuild my spirit and to honor my Addy. And it came with a promise to give myself grace even if all boxes remain unchecked at the end of the year.

In total, 9 boxes made it onto my bucket list. 

And today, as I turn 29, every last one has been checked.

This isn't a moment where I am looking for kudos or praise. 

I share because I want you all to know there is hope. 

In the same year that every box got checked...after having just spent the preceding year preparing for death while pregnant, giving birth and helplessly watching her pink skin fade as she slipped from this life to the next, sitting in the front of a church to celebrate one whom I will forever mourn, and healing a body that naturally went into momma mood post delivery...after having just endured that year, year 28 also brought a painful day of sitting on the stair of my home and watching as he carried his belongings to his car and then standing in the garage as he drove off to another life. In year 28, a series of lies that tainted everything I believed to be true unraveled and I found myself sitting in a court room, raising my right hand ending what I wholeheartedly believed was my forever. And year 28 brought the painful task of separating all that we had worked so hard to build while hitting every milestone and holiday absent of my intended role as a wife and mother.

 Year 28 brought very dark days. Days where I sat in my car, pounding the steering wheel while screaming about how unfair life can be.  Or days where with all my might I would wail on a punching bag leaving my hand blistered or bleeding. There were days when I literally collapsed on the floor unable to catch my breath through the sobbing of brokenness. And even days when I found myself asking for forgiveness after projecting all the hurt within me upon someone else. Those days were real and they still are. But, today as I turn 29, I can attest that through it all, hope is alive.

So let me take a moment to say, if you find yourself hurting from whatever life has lavished on you...death, an unfulfilled dream, unimaginable pain, a new diagnosis or ongoing fight, betrayal, destruction, or devastation...whatever it is, no matter how big or small, know this...there is a plan and that plan promises hope {Jeremiah 29:11}. It is what I have clung to over and over and over this year. 

And that hope is why I celebrate today. 

It has sustained, encouraged, and motivated me through my fight.

And it exist for you too.

Because we are worthy.

Know that.

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 Year 28 was a lion and a lamb.

 Through the devastation, good came too.

This 'Year 28 Bucket List' made me feel alive and accomplished even when all was collapsing around me. But I could not have done it alone so before I share the list, I want to say thank you to my family, friends, co-workers, fellow mommas at Alexandra's House, and my very dear counselor. This inner core prayed for me, encouraged and supported me, grieved and healed with me, and loved me through the darkest. So, know that as I share my checked boxes that it was not accomplished alone.

Year 28 Bucket List:

1. Visit one of my very best friend and her husband (whom I adore) in Portland.

Since they moved three years ago, I have been planning to visit but never actually booked. Though planned several weeks in advance, I landed on the doorstep of my dear friend just a week after learning of the affair. It was a much needed escape and I could never tell them how appreciative I was for their support at such a broken time.

2. Take a photography class.

I have always been interested in photography but never actually pursued it as a hobby until this year. So I didn't just take one class, I actually took two! One was an online class and the other was a one-on-two session with my friend Michelle (at the camera shop owned by her family).

3. Get a tattoo.

Check! 

You read that right, I got inked. I am just as surprised as you.

I actually went in alone for what I thought was a consultation...you know to discuss the design, ensure every thing is sterile, and talk myself out of actually going through with it...and left an hour later with a permanent reminder of my beloved. It makes me smile each time I see it. 

4. Drop the baby weight.

I am and have always been a comfort eater but I knew even the best mashed potatoes and chocolate cake were not going to heal my heart. So instead, I committed myself to what I termed "mind, body, and spiritual healing" and began by cutting out processed foods and refueling my weary self with fresh veggies, fruit, and protein. A paleo-ish approach, lots of boxing (which doubled as my anger therapy), and eventually running and I can say the baby weight plus some is gone. To me though it is not about the numbers, I feel healthier than ever.

5. Paint my room.

It started out simply to paint but ended up being a complete redo. The bedroom was a series of hand-me-down furniture and builders beige walls (I will spare you the before pictures but it was bad). I had a small budget so I had to get creative but I wanted everything to be replaced so that what was once ours would just be mine...down to the blinds! Thanks to the help of my sisters, I love my new room. 

6. Hold a party on Addy's first birthday.

Addy had a really special 'You Are My Sunshine' themed birthday party. 

She is so deeply loved.

7. Complete a 5K (which required me to start running).

With the help of my running buddy, we did it!

8. Literally climb a mountain.

I figured since I felt like I was climbing one, I might as well actually climb a mountain. 

The Girl's Trip to Rocky Mountain National Park allowed me to check that box off! 

9. Commit to an Operation Smile Mission. 

Afraid to fail, I added 'commit' instead of 'complete' a mission to the list but much to my surprise, I was given the most amazing opportunity to journey with Operation Smile to the Philippines. Typically it takes over a year to be assigned a first mission so when they called and told me about the trip to the Philippines in June...less than one month before my birthday...the tears began. I think I asked the lady several times if she meant "this June" and if that would mean "I would be 28." Never would I have believed how it all played out but I am so amazed that it did. My time in the Philippines will be with me forever. 

What a year. What a year indeed.
Through the good and the less than, hope was alive and well.

Praise Jesus that He can make all things new. 

Here is to turning 29...

 

"Baby Addy's Legacy"

Can I tell you about something that sends my spirit to the moon with joy?

"Baby Addy's Legacy" is being featured on the Operation Smile blog! 

It is one thing for me to share on my little slice of the internet or on my IG feed (@sookiejane) but something so much bigger on an international blog.

I have said since the day that I held that precious little babe in my arms, that I want her memory to live on. This momma's heart is so full seeing just that. 

I don't share for recognition, friends this isn't about me. 

This is about a Little Sunshine who's life, though ever so short, matters. 

And, it is about a glorious God who heals in incredible ways.

Operation Smile: Davao

It is 3am and I cannot sleep.

10 flights, 60 hours of flying, and a 12 hour time change in 12 days sent my body into crazy jet lag.  But well worth it it was!  I had the most incredible time and I don't know that words will ever do justice to the goodness of my first Operation Smile mission.

Being wide awake has given me time to scroll through pictures and replay my journey. 

I don't want to forget any of the details. So much joy, so much love, and so much hope all rolled into one incredible trip.

250 volunteers from 19 countries gathered in Manila and then dispersed to six different sites spanning the Philippines for the "Gift of Smiles" mega mission.  Combined, 1152 infants/children/adults were screened and a grand total of 750 patients were given the gift of a smile! Incredible.

I journeyed to Davao along with others from across the US, Canada, Venezuela, Colombia, Vietnam, India, Kenya, Thailand, and the Philippines.  Our team was comprised of nurses (Pre-Op, OR, PACU, and Post-Op), pediatricians, a pediatric intensivist, anesthesiologists, plastic surgeons, dentist, speech pathologists, a medical records team, biomed, child life specialists, a research team, and three high school students and their sponsor.

Saturday was screening day and each patient was evaluated by all medical entities.

Parents traveled long and far (one walking from 7am to 10pm with two children in tow). They waited long hours, withstood extreme heat, and some even slept outside for the opportunity to have their child evaluated. But, there was never a single complaint. They are fiercely dedicated parents who were so gracious, loving, and appreciative. Each time I stopped to scan the room, I stood in awe at their perseverance.

In Davao, we screened just under 300 patients.

Each was given a priority level and those with the greatest need went first.

By the end of the week, 143 patients underwent surgery.

The need was tremendous and it broke my heart to know that some of the kids were turned away. There was simply not enough time to care for them all. But Operation Smile will return. They are committed to their mission of seeing every cleft repaired.

After the screening was completed and just before surgeries were scheduled to begin, we took time to take in creation by island hopping to Samal Island. It was simply serene. I swam and snorkeled, drank the juice from a just picked coconut, ate fresh grilled tuna, and devoured the juiciest and most divine mangoes! It was as if I stepped into a dream.

But come bright and early Monday morning, the real work began.

Nerves set in as I walked into my job on the post-op ward. As a newbie to Operation Smile, I began to doubt my ability to provide for the patients. As I stood in the ward second guessing my decision to come, I heard the tune of "Amazing Grace." I walked outside and down the stairs and there was a room full of Filipino people being lead by a pastor in a unison singing "Amazing Grace"...in English. In a place where the primary language was Tagalog the familiar words soothed my worried self .

I worked alongside two Filipino nurses and two pediatricians (one from Texas and one from India) to oversee care for the patients after their surgery until they are able to be discharged (most staying either one night or two depending on their surgery). 

It was the place where a small cot and a plastic chair for the parent became a humble abode. Where ice cream was consumed, bubbles were blown, pipe cleaners were twisted into crowns, pictures were colored, new stuffed animals were cuddled, and stickers were as good as gold. 

It was the place where medications were given, vital signs assessed, surgical tape removed, and incisions cleaned. 

Where tears were shed by overjoyed parents as the fear of a life of bullying and rejection was laid to rest. It was the place where a seven year old held tight to her baby sister as she slept. And where a five year old little boy stroked his little sisters head each time she began to whimper. And the place where a twin teenage boy sat arm in arm with his brother helping to hold a cup of water to his just repaired lip.  

It was the place where a mirror took on new life as self admiration was felt for the first time.

It was a place where I was humbled to have the opportunity to witness such vast outpouring of love and pride and hope and thankfulness.

And it wasn't just babies or preschool aged kids, there were teenagers and even a patient my age.  I watched as she slyly took in her new refection. What is must feel like to see oneself in a whole new light. 

When I learned of Addy's cleft, it wasn't a matter of if she would have surgery, but of when. 

But for these parents, finances were tight, access to medical care limited, and resources scarce. Surgery wasn't a given and without Operation Smile, most likely not possible. 

A rather quick surgery was so much more than cosmetic, it leads to better nutrition and speech. It was a chance to raise self esteem, to aid in ending embarrassment, rejection, and social shunning. It can give a child the courage to attend school and the opportunity to dream big for their future.

My heart was so full. 

 The love and dedication of the parents, sibling, and grandparents was deep. 

They were so grateful and so, so appreciative.

But, they had no idea the healing they provided my heart.

Laying on one of the cots was a 15 month old little girl. After coming back from her surgery, her momma perfectly wrapped her in a yellow and white blanket over her grey hospital gown. As I looked down at her, I fought back tears as I envisioned my Addy. This is what she would have looked like. I bent down, stroked her head, kissed her little cheek, and told her momma just how beautiful she was.  It was yet another moment of peace for me. I never got the chance to see my Addy through her repair but for this child I did. It was where I was destined to be. 

I carried my Addy's picture every where I went and shared her story with anyone I could. 

I hope she knows the impact that her life is having.

If it was not for her, I would have never embarked on an Operation Smile mission.

 I am so unbelievable grateful that this opportunity arose. 

And a big, yet unexpected bonus of the trip were my teammates. 

They embraced me and allowed me to share my Addy with them...pictures and all.

 They were welcoming, loving, and compassionate. They supplied me with all the things I forgot from a magical Mary Poppins bag. Together we laughed, took every opportunity we could to take advantage of the $6 - 60 minute messages that were only a tricycle ride away, did our best attempt at singing karaoke, and they embraced my need to order pizza over all the fresh seafood.  As much as I tried, tails, shells, scales, and tentacles were not my thing. 

Different food preferences aside, we had deep and real conversations about life, my most favorite kind. It has become a great passion of mine to get to know people at their core simply because I want you to know who I am at mine. I may not know their favorite color but I know their dreams, there life struggles, and their hopes for the future. Fast and fierce friends we became.  

 

Words are not enough to share the gravity of my experience. 

The most precious patients, the devoted and grateful parents, my embracing team, and now forever friends. It was simple more than I could have ever dreamed. 

This trip far surpassed my 'Year 28 Bucket List' dreams and I know my Addy would be proud. 

It was healing, it was humbling, and it was rejuvenating. 

And so begins the quest for my next mission because hope does not disappoint. 

--------

Just a little sidenote, I took 3 cameras and almost 600 pictures but I wanted to be respectful with what I posted. Most of the patients had a cleft lip repair and their little lips need time for the swelling to subside and the sutures to dissolve. The transformations were dramatic and honestly amazing but out of respect for them, I didn't share any fresh post-op pictures which given where I worked were the majority of my photos. This thing called the internet is huge and it's not my place to share such a pivotal time of healing for all the world to view.

Operation Smile

At 18 weeks pregnant, a sonogram revealed that my Addalyn had a cleft lip and potentially a palate too. The cystic hygroma that was found at 12 weeks had resolved and Addy's only "imperfection" was cosmetic. She was growing (and my belly was too) and just as active as she could be.

I researched all that I could on cleft lips and palates and tried to soak in every bit of knowledge to be as prepared as possible. I knew the plastic surgeon, the surgeries, and the timeline for operation. I knew the nipples and bottles we would need to invest in and the feeding aversion we would potentially face. I knew the possible speech challenges and the dental involvement. I talked with other parents, nurses, and doctors to absorb all that I could. In a pregnancy that had been so far beyond my cookie cutter vision of perfection, a cleft lip and palate was something that could be "fixed."

In my time scowering the internet for all knowledge I could glean, I found myself closing my eyes and attempting to envisioned that moment that I would hand my Addy off for her surgical repair and wait patiently to see her new lip. I tried to imagine what that moment would be like to be reunited. I often questioned if I would recognize her or what the first emotion conjured would be. And a part of me wondered if I would miss the lip that I had come to love.

If you have ventured over to this blog for long, you know that at 24 weeks pregnant (just two days after Christmas 2012), an MRI revealed other complications in Addalyn's development. By 28 weeks, we knew that her life would be limited.

Her time with us was so short, she laid in my arms for mere hours. 

But she was absolutely perfect and I could not be more proud to be her momma. 
And forever her momma I will be.

One of my most favorite features were her lips. 
I traced her cleft lip with my finger more times than I could count and kissed her so sweet mouth over and over. My Addalyn was beautiful.

On my 28th birthday, just three months after her passing, I made a 'Year 28 Bucket List' for myself. I felt empty and hated that I my year would be filled with milestones being marked by the "first ___ without my child." So, I comprised a list of things to accomplish before my 29th birthday. It was my way of giving myself something to look forward to in a year that would undoubtedly be grueling. There were small things and then there were big, big things. I told myself to give it my best effort and if I fall short of accomplishing them all, at least it gave me something to strive for in my valley of darkness.

Again, if you have been here long, you know that in September my world came crashing down on me again. I was depleted and empty and all I could do was pray for hope (Jeremiah 29:11). In my brokenness, I pulled out my 'Year 28 Bucket List' and picked the biggest thing.

To honor my Addy, the biggest box to be checked was to submit an application to volunteer with Operation Smile.  Operation Smile, an organization that I found while researching Addy's cleft lip and palate, provides free surgical repairs to children in need around the world. I skimmed the mission statement and intertwined was a sentence that I haven't been able to get out of my head..."Every child deserves a future filled with hope." 

There is was again...hope...my word, my verse, and my prayer.

In September 2013, I submitted my paperwork to volunteer on an international mission with Operation Smile. Months passed and I hadn't heard back so in April, I called to check on the status of my application. Within one week (and a quick appeal process), I received an email stating that my credentialing had been approved.  Outlined in the email was an explanation that typically it takes up to a year before I would be able to actually board a plane bound for my destination. 

Less than a week later, I was literally on the Operation Smile website scanning upcoming missions when my phone rang. I never answer unknown numbers but for some reason I did and the tears started flowing as the coordinator was looking for a few last minute volunteers. I had prepared my heart to wait another year and this mission was just a mere 5 weeks away...and less than one month before my 29th birthday. Within 24 hours, my time off request had been approved, a few wonderful coworkers agreed to cover a few shifts for me, and all was set. 

There is no other way to describe how it all simply fell into place then God at work. 

In June, I will be traveling with a medical team comprised of Operation Smile volunteers to the Philippines to preform cleft lip and palate repairs. I don't know anyone going but I believe so deeply that this is where God has orchestrated for me to be...for me...to honor the memory of my Addy...to give another momma a moment that I was never able to experience...to pay forward the hope that Christ has renewed in me.

My heart is so full in anticipation for this opportunity.  
This life I am living is not want I had envisioned but my God is a God of hope.