Dating {Part II}

Let's just call this Part II of my rambling series on dating, of which I know nothing about. Thanks for coming along!

Before I went on my a fore mentioned first ever first date...you know the blind date of all types...I spent a lot of time rediscovering who I am. I thought I had me figured out but my vision came crashing down not once but twice. Where I thought my life was headed, what I dreamed to be my future, and my image of being a wife and raising my daughter were stripped from my core. 

Who was I when suddenly my last name was a remnant of a former life, when my in-laws were no longer legally such, and when my home was occupied by only me? What did I believe? What were my passions and my dreams? What was my reality? 

Suddenly, I had no idea who I was anymore. 

So, Year 28 became my year to rediscover who I am. To reconnect with friends, explore hobbies, to soul search, to refuel my spirit, to prove to myself that I could still stand, and to began to mend the pieces from the shattering of my world.

Before ever bringing someone in, I want to be certain of who I am. So, when "dating' went from being 'in the future' to 'Thursday night,' {after nearly having a panic attack}, I got out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote out my standards. Pillars of sorts that when pondering a future husband were nonnegotiable. They stem from who I have become and perhaps things that looking back just didn't work in my marriage. 

Maybe they are obvious but friends, this dating thing is seriously foreign to me so it made perfect sense to my Type A self to have a list to help guide my heart. They are things like ambition and dreams and a desire to raise and be surrounded by family. There are shared interest and shared core values. But of those, at very top is a shared passion for a shared faith.

When I was 16, we shared a fervor for Jesus but over the course of the 12 years, our beliefs in creation diverged. I never stopped believing but having different beliefs, I didn't pursue Jesus. I prayed and went to church on holidays or when visiting family but I had no church to call home and no community in which I was fostered. I never stopped believing, I simply stopped growing. I had become complacent with life as I knew it and quite content waking up on Sunday mornings with the only thing on the agenda being the sous-chef in the construction of breakfast.

When I began working in my current job, I quickly befriended the only nurse that was around my age. If I can be totally honest, sometimes I rolled my eyes at her passionate pursuit to live a Godly life. While I had become content, she was anything but. When my perfectly planned pregnancy began to be filled with hard choices and uncertainty, she began praying with all her heart. There were cards and notes left on my desk, in my work bag, and in my drawer. There were texts and emails with scripture, encouraging words, and reminders that she and her people were praying for me and my Addy daily. She sent me sermons, songs, and books that she thought might encourage me. When I returned to work after my leave of absence, she had a way of reading my mood as I walked through the door, could anticipate triggers before I had to face them, and has a memory that includes the date of every one of my milestones. And there were Reece's, lot and lots of Reece's. She exemplified the love of Jesus to me consistently for two of the most difficult years in my life. And never out of pride, never being overbearing. She simple lived what she so deeply believed.

She sent me the link to the song "Worn" but Tenth Avenue North and told me to listen when I was ready. I filed it under 'someday' and then forgot about it until I was driving to work one day. It was October and I was consumed with how I was going to overcome the grief of Addy's passing and the devastating end of the marriage. How was I going to pick up the pieces, how was I going to mend my heart, how was I ever going to feel whole? As I listened to the words of the song, I wept. Big, ugly tears streamed down my face. I will never forget that moment.

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

 

 

It was one of the two most defining moments of healing for me. Hearing the words brought this overwhelming sense of relief. I had long tried to understand how I was going to overcome all the hurt, sadness, grief, and devastation. In the course of that very song, relief came as I realized that healing was never going to be through me. So I cried out with all that I had left and asked Jesus to begin to heal me in ways that I couldn't heal myself. I cried for rest and a song risen from the ashes of my broken life. It was in that moment, that for the first time since Addy's passing in March, that knew that I was going to be okay. Someday I would be okay.

Since, I have been pursuing my relationship with our gracious God and there is peace within me that I didn't know could or perhaps would ever come. And though I still have hard days and days of hurt, sadness, or even some of anger, good has come. 

So at the very top of my 'future spouse non-negotiable standards' is a shared passion for a shared faith. A shared love and desire to pursue a God who redeems. 

 

 

Dating {Oh dear Jesus, save me now}

Can we talk about something that makes me sweat, want to crawl under a table, and continuously need to pulse check? What could be that bad? If you guessed 'dating,' those party poppers are for you, so welcome aboard this adventure. Oh dear Jesus, save me now.

When it comes to dating, I am a fish way out of water. Not only did I never envision it to be a part of my world but I don't really count my first ever "first date" as such.  You see, it was my 16th birthday and he joined my ENTIRE family for dinner to celebrate. That was it.  Signed, sealed, and delivered, my heart was done for. He was it. But that thing called life happened. And that little 16 year old girl could never have prepared for how that story would end. But it did. And so here I am. Embarking on a new chapter.

I was recently sent on my first date...and a blind date at that.
And let me tell you, he was super nice and totally sweet but he knew nothing about me.
I left feeling overwhelmed by feelings that I didn't even know I had yet to deal with. Things like confusion for how to get to know the depth of someone and they of me, a fear of letting my guard down, and a surprising anger for the reality of being 'single' after once vowing forever. It wasn't anything he did or said, it simply is me coming to terms with where I am in my life.

I feel like there should have been a little warning flag waved  a giant billboard alerting him...

Warning:

Aly comes with wounds. There is a segment of the city she avoids like the plague, she has a great fear of being hurt, a very tender heart, and a deceased child whom she will grief forever. Not just for another year or two but for forever. 

That is a lot. 
But I do want to share my life with someone.  And someday, I want to be able to hear someone call me momma.  That's my dream, just as it was at 16, and 23, and 27, and still at 29.

So I've secretly created a fairytale in my head. It's quiet simple. If I could click my ruby red slippers together, my future husband would appear and say, "I know your journey and someday, when you are ready to share, I would love to hear the depth of your heart. But for now, just know that I know and I embrace you."  I would fist pump bigger than any Jersey Shore party you ever did see. Ha. Who am I kidding? I would probably cry. I would cry like a baby at the thought of him already knowing my story and yet hearing him say he embraces all that I am. 

I know when the timing is right, it will be right because He hasn't failed me yet. 

Back to the here and now.

 

{FAQs}

Answering some of my most random but commonly asked questions...here we go...



Did you change your last name?

This is the most popular question that I get asked and it just so happens to be one of my biggest internal battles when in the midst of my divorce. I struggled because at stake was the ultimate question of 'who am I?' It was perplexing and deeply loaded, the summation of ones identity. Sitting in a court room, facing a judge felt like an out of body experience. When she asked what my last name would be all I could hear was 'who am I now?' So, the simple answer to such a difficult question is no, I kept his last name. In some ways it was out of pure exhaustion. The thought of having to add more to my plate in the midst of all the other changes invading my world seemed like it could very well push me over the edge. And more so, his last name is my Addy's last name and in my cycle of grief, I wasn't ready to have that taken from me too. 

 

What is Addy's diagnosis?

I get asked this question quiet often too. When explaining that my child passed away, the question to follow is usually, "from what." And my standard answer is 'multiple fetal anomalies.' With the guidance of a very wonderful genetics counselor, we exhausted every avenue for answers down to an ongoing research study using blood from her umbilical cord as well as samples from him and I. And the results...nothing. I know her major anomalies (a right-sided diaphragmatic hernia and dysplastic kidneys) but the question of why or a diagnosis remain unknown.

Do you still live in your house?

At the present, my home is still my home. I am not sure what my future holds but my status quo world became very unsteady in a very short amount of time so my home was a constant for me. A double edged sword at times, I have a love-hate relationship living in a place that was once ours. But it was also home to me and I wasn't ready to figure out where to go next. I flew the coup solo for the first time in my entire life for the first six months. Believe it or not, prior him moving out, I had shared a bedroom with someone (my sister, a potluck roommate as a freshman, sorority sisters, and then him) for all but my senior year of college! I didn't realize how lonely I had become until by the grace of God, two of my sisters were able to move in with me in January. It is like a never ending slumber party and I welcomed the noise.

Is the grief from the loss of my daughter or the loss of my marriage been more difficult to endure?

Honestly, I am not sure how to answer.

If you followed Addy's story, you know that our pregnancy was a series of ups and downs. Addy's prognosis was not a result of anything I ate or didn't eat, or anything I did or didn't do, nor was it a result of either her daddy's or my family history. No one made a choice that determined Addalyn's prognosis, it simply just was.  And, it wasn't until our fetal health appointment at 28 weeks that we knew her life was going to be limited. My water broke at 35 weeks and 5 days so I had over seven weeks to prepare. And I say the word 'prepare' but there was not really anyway to prepare my inexperienced self to face death.  I simply mean gathering resources...I met with a comfort care doctor to ensure that in her living moments she would never struggle, I selected a funeral home, determined our wishes for her body, and planned a memorial service. I met with other mommas who had lost babies and tried with all the strength I could muster to enjoy my final weeks of being pregnant. I knew, to the best of my comprehension, what was coming and had prepared the best that I knew how. It would be impossible to ever fully ready my heart or my spirit but all plans and arrangements where in place.

The betrayal is different. The events that transpired that led to the ending of our marriage were willingly made yet deceptive choices. I was caught off guard, shocked, devastated, and unprepared to face the unraveling of my marriage. Infidelity has a way of doing that. Of making you question everything, doubt everything, and it is a mixed bag of anger, hurt, devastation, sadness, loneliness, self doubt, and brokenness. And still what hurts the most is that the two are woven together.

While the some of the components of the grief cycle are the same, the feeling are different.

Yet, they overlap. His choices overlaps with the pregnancy, Addy's birth, and the days of trying to desperately make sense of a life without my child. It all fell in a matter on months leaving all the feelings intertwined. It is hard to separate the emotions of one trial because for me, they are so woven together. 

You seem to have a unique ability to walk through your grief.

Most days I feel ill equipped to handle what life handed but when you are knee deep in it, to me there wasn't an alternative.  If you have lost a child, you certainly know that there is not a guide for how to cope. Grief hits at every angle and sometimes it is when you least it expect it. It is not easy to take a picture of Addy to Santa, to host a party without her on her first birthday, or even to celebrate the milestones for my friend's babies that will never be for my Addy. But, I don't do these things because they are easy. I do what any other parent desires for their child...to make memories and to ensure they know that they are loved. I have the same desires for my child. I get strange looks sometimes and I have come to terms with them. The tears and sadness that come with doing the hard things in life, to me just mean that my Addy is loved.  

{Powell Garden Butterfly Festival}

 
Do you still see your counselor?

Yes, yes, and yes again. I actually saw her a couple years before my pregnancy when I was working through some hard stuff in life. She was randomly selected based off my rigorous criteria...female, close to my house, and covered by my insurance! After Addy's passing, together we went to a few different counselors that specialize in the loss of a child but I just didn't feel they were right for me. Finding the right counselor is vital and it is ok to try out several before deciding on one. Knowing I had to do something to begin to process through the grief, I forwent the specialized grief counselors and made an appointment back at my original counselor. I just jive with her and her diagram loving, dry erase board using self. I saw her weekly for a good six months, then every other week, then every three weeks, and just recently I went to a 'make an appointment when needed' status. And this week, I found myself on her familiar couch after my bestie encouraged me that maybe I could benefit from her guidance. That my friends, is the best friend a girl could as for. One that gets you on such a level and is brave enough to say that perhaps an appointment is warranted. So that little couch which I have come to find comfort in greeted me. And on that couch have been some of my worst days. I can distinctly remember a session where I said nothing for an entire hour. I simply sobbed with my counselor setting near by reminding me that it was a safe place to let it all out. And the day I learned of the affair, I sat gasping for air on that very couch as I tried to process what seemed impossible. And through every emotion, every high and low, every deep dark pain, my counselor has guided me, supported me, and listened to my pain. If I can recommend one thing, when life gets to be too much, know that there is no shame in seeking help. Whether through your church or using my rigorous criteria, find someone trained to counsel you and do so with your head held high.

How did he meet her, did you know her, were there signs looking back that you missed, how did you find out about the affair, are they still together, do you still talk to him?

Out of respect for him and our memories together, these questions will go unanswered.  I married him because I cared deeply about, because he made me feeling special, because I felt loved, and because I loved him. Our marriage was not perfect, we each made mistakes along the way. For a long time, I thought if I could just know all the details of his affair, at some point I would understand why. That some light bulb would go off and I would think to myself, "well now it all makes complete sense." But the more I learned, the less I understood. So truth be told, some of the questions you have are the very same questions I have and it is probably for the best that I leave it at that.  I still care about him and part of me will always love him so I won't pass judgement nor speak to the details of his choices. 

Where do you see yourself in the future?

When I daydreamed about being a 'grown-up,' life as I know it isn't what came to mind. But probably that is true in some capacity for everyone. So I am trying to stop living for the next big thing and be present.   I am still working to heal my heart and my spirit so that is my focus. The here and the now.

Butterfly Festival

I discovered a little treasure in the Kansas City Area today!

  Powell Gardens is Kansas City's Botanical Garden and it is beautiful!

 The first and second weekend in August is their annual Butterfly Festival.

It was complete with lots of activities, education, and crafts for kids (storytelling, flower pot painting, face painting, butterfly wing coloring, and antenna making).

 Among the perfectly kept gardens and beautiful flowers were lots and lots of butterflies in the butterfly conservatory and the caterpillar petting zoo.

My mom, sister-in-law, niece, and I had a great time.

And, we made sure our Addy was with us. 

After declaring Addy was going to be a butterfly for Halloween, 

I can't help but smile each time I see a butterfly. 

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.

-----

 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. 

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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.