The Struggle

Part One.
I often struggle with the competing values I face on a daily basis. On one hand, I have the reality of "what I do" versus the mentality of "what I should be doing". 

Every day, I have the honor of serving others by helping to bless their marriage/relationship. I meet with approximately 60 of my "own" couples-reinforcing curriculum that I have specifically been trained and certified in. We meet in office visit rooms as we go over tools that can better equip them with the knowledge of how to resolve conflict and maintain a positive relationship through the birth of their child. We set up birth plans and discuss infant cues to help them understand their parenting role. The couples receive my services free of charge-no obstacles. Don't get me wrong...I love my job.

I love the "ah-ha" moments that come across an individual's face when they finally realize the real reason they have been fighting. I love seeing the journey they embark on together to resolve those problems and become stronger in doing so.  I love knowing that I have watched some of the best couples become better-and the worst couples become great. I have seen the jobless/homeless/helpless turn their lives around. I have witnessed the abused feel love, and the addicted be set free. I have seen some of the most well-to-do couples open up as they disclose the fact that material things mean nothing when their relationship is lacking affection and passion. My experiences become a testimony to those around me. I too have felt the heartache and pain. I have made mistakes that I cannot take back. I have focused more on the perception of others rather than what I really felt in my heart.

Not to mention-I have witnessed the birth of more babies than I can count, and grieved the loss of those that were taken home sooner than expected. I have consoled the broken hearted and offered a shoulder to lean on when they can't seem to get up. And, let me tell you right now, when I stand in front of a crowd of couples and teach something I am so deeply grounded in...I am in my element.

You see...as much as I love my job, I cannot help but feel the tug at my heart that I am not where I need to be.

I often feel like I'm either whining about the same old things, or rejoicing about how God has brought us through them.  However, the past several months have been anything but easy. Working 50 hour work weeks, pulling twelve hour days-teaching late at night, getting home at 10pm without spending any time with my husband and waking up to leave early the next day, being required to come in on weekends to "meet my couple's needs", keeping up with personal matters, spending the little time we have left with family/friends, and managing our own needs-which typically gets pushed to the side. I am definitely feeling the pressures of what everyone around me says is normal.

Let me just say this-I don't want to be normal anymore. I am not the poster child for the latest Wonder Woman campaign, nor do I feel I should be. I am human. I cannot do a million and one things because of this. I am the last person to want to do things half-heartedly and with all of the responsibilities I have been given I can't seem to get them all done to everyone's satisfaction.

My dream in life has always been to be a stay-at-home mom. I was so very blessed for my momma to have a flexible job where she could still be involved in each of our endeavors. She was always there when we needed her and managed to cook, clean, and play with us. She was Wonder Woman.

With our personal struggle with fertility problems, my dream in life was cut short when we first got married and disappointment became a reality. Medical debt piled up and we stretched every dime to pay for the next doctor's visit. We started going without-cutting back on "doing things" and started planning how to get ahead. My husband's goal of starting back to school and finding a career he loved was trumped by the little white envelopes showing up every month. What little money we saved went towards the bills or next mishap. Our home flooding, plumbling problems, hail damage, blown out tires, a new car, and yes-the last surgery.

When we committed to intercountry adoption, we knew the expense we were signing ourselves up for. We budgeted accordingly to make sure we put money aside each month-untouched. We estimated how long it would take and I started brainstorming how other parents had done the monstrous task. What we did not consider, however, was the fact that plans change.  My health continued to decline and we decided we needed to get away together. Not just for a break, but to help revive our marriage and help our bodies heal.

Our short-lived vacation was anything but relaxing. Our seventeen hour drive (one-way) proved to be just as exhausting as our work days. There was the constant reminder of finances as we arrived at the hotel and realized eating out was not an option. The trip, however, did provide me with a lot of thinking time.

During that time (and every moment of the days since then), I continue to feel the urgency that something in our lives has to change.  And, while sitting in church Sunday morning, my feelings were confirmed as the preacher spoke straight to me. Compelled by the Spirit, not knowing where to go...I am certain that God has other plans for my life. With lots of prayers and questions, I ask for Him to show me where to take the first step.

Just like a lamp only reveals the few feet in front of me, I am not certain of the path I will be on. I will, however, commit to taking a step towards my destiny by stepping away from the security that binds me here.

Day 724, A Whirlwind

For those of you that follow me on pinterest, I am certain you can tell by the overwhelming amount of new pins that I have had a little extra free time on my hands.  Yes, I am officially recovering from my surgery.

Thursday, May 30th, I woke up early (as if I could sleep much when I knew I was about to be cut open) and headed to the surgery center. With mixed times from the doctor's office and the surgery center, we showed up at 7:30am (just to be sure). They took my insurance information, verified the correct info on file, and took me back shortly to be prepped. Hubby was amazingly supportive. He held my hand as they poked and prodded and helped get me in my hospital gear.

My first nurse was Marilyn. She was the sweetest and only had to poke once to get my IV in!  She kept us company and discussed the previous week's tornado to pass the time. She prepared me for who all would be involved in the process and made sure I was comfy with fresh warm blankets.

After a while, two anesthesiologists made their way to my bed side and asked a million questions to make sure they knew everything about my history to help me be comfortable. After a terrible experience with a previous surgery, I told them my concerns and they put my mind to ease. The nurse anaesthetist would also be there to care for me if anything needed to be changed.

Then came the "regular nurse". Her name was Paula and she explained everything they had scheduled for the procedure. I began to feel a little queasy with the details, but she was very helpful and stated the doctor would be in shortly.

My doctor was more than great. He discussed everything, gave me the opportunity to ask questions, and addressed some serious questions in case it came down to the worst. Finally his resident came in and let me know he would be back with me.

Before I knew it, I was waking up (a little nauseous) and hurrying along to go home. I was a little faint, but they gave me something to help settle my stomach and rolled me to the car.

The first day I was in-and-out of it-mostly keeping myself comfortable as hubby and my mom would come in to take my temperature, give me fluids and medicine, and make sure I was doing okay. Knowing that hubby was going back to work the next day, I stayed at my parents' house so they could keep an eye on me.

Then, Friday came. Momma helped me get up & down and walked me into the living room to try to sit me up. I slept off and on again while watching tv and talking to her. It wasn't until about 2/3pm that things went from normal to terrible.  The news broke in and said people were getting off of work early and preparing for a storm moving in. With characteristics of the May 20th tornado in Moore, OK just a week prior, they prepared us for the worst. I spoke to my husband as he got off work and asked him to get the dogs and hurry over to my parents' as soon as he could so we wouldn't be separated. My sister, future brother-in-law, and niece were all there when it rolled in.

We took cover in the hallway as I managed to get myself down on the floor (in my pajamas and barefoot) and put the mattress over us. My sweet niece stuck my daddy's bike helmet on me as the sirens began to sound. We braced ourselves for the worst and took pictures off the wall as we heard the news state it was hitting El Reno and was due to arrive in approximately 20minutes.

Just as calm as could be, my daddy walked into the hall with the rest of the family as he stated we needed to go. The news was stating if we weren't underground, we wouldn't make it. We had to get as far South as possible.

Now, I have to admit a few things that were happening at this point: 1)I was on pain medicine and not necessarily in my right frame of mind, 2)I was still in my pjs and barefoot, 3)I was totally against leaving the house, and 4)I was screaming at my poor husband that he was taking me against my will as he helped me get into the car with our three fur babies.

That was when we did the dumbest thing we could have ever done-we split up.

Thinking we could simply get in our vehicles, drive down towards Tuttle past Mustang, and rescue ourselves and cars from any damage-we split up.

We were in my car, my momma was in her car, my daddy was in his pickup truck, and my sister was in her fiance's truck with my niece. As we rounded the corner to get out of the neighborhood (might I remind you that the sirens are going off at this point and we had approximately 16minutes before it was going to hit) we were met with bumper-to-bumper traffic and our plans stopped. 

At this point the tears worsened as I panicked and began dialing my family's phones to get ahold of someone, anyone.

Nothing.

We made it to the stoplight where we were to make a very important decision: turn South and hope we end up past this tornado, go straight and pray we make it to my grandparents' shelter in time before it comes. 

We chose to go straight.

Unfortunately, my family made the other choice and once again we were split up (now in different directions) with minutes counting down. As I got ahold of my sister, I talked them into going to my grandparents' house (knowing the worst place we could be is on the road getting swept up like a feather). Once at their house, we took cover with the other people from their church that took advantage of their large cellar. We continued to try to get in touch with my parents as we anxiously listened to the weather radio and large hail pelting overhead. Water seeped in through the sides as the ground began to get wet. It was headed straight towards us and seemed to be following the same route as my parents.

Let me just say, every detail of that night still haunts me.  It feels like a whirlwind of pain just thinking about the fact that I could have lost my parents-something that too many people in that storm know all too well. I couldn't keep my composure. I couldn't stop crying. Most importantly, I could not stop praying for God to protect my family and watch over them on the roads.

Please, please, please...

Momma and Daddy ended up halfway under an overpass in Moore, OK as the tornado tossed small debris through the air in front of them. Then, they faced the flooding waters as they trecked back home through trecherous waters.

We stayed at Gramma and Pawpaw's for a little while before making the journey ourselves to get back to the house. The uncertainty of what was ahead was nothing compared to the fear we had when we echoed "I love you" over and over while on the phone with my parents thinking we might never hear their voices again.

The roads were awful and the hail had yet to pass but once at their house, the electricity was on and the house seemed untouched. Thank God.

Momma and Daddy arrived at home close to midnight and all I could do was cry in relief as I hugged their necks.

A few busted stitches and an aching pain is something I will take any day of the week to know my family is safe. Thank you, Lord for keeping us all safe. I am so blessed.

A Calling

Over the years, I have come to love the feeling when my mind meets the page as I write. Whether in gratitude or despair, it never fails that I feel better when I can write my thoughts. I have said for quite some time that I have wanted to write a book.  There is something about the idea that my own words may circulate around the world and touch, even one soul.

No, it wouldn't be to boast or brag (for my story is far from something to be proud of at times). It wouldn't be to win an award or gain publicity (for sometimes the thought of being "known" is fearful in my heart). It is, however, for the simple joy of taking the memories that overflow my mind and putting them out there (maybe for closure in some cases). Maybe just one person will hear what I have to say and think, "I know exactly what you mean." It would be worth the pain to relive some of the heartache I have felt to know that someone may stop going down the path they have chosen at that time.

Therefore, I am playing with the idea of starting my book. Something I have toyed with for years (and started a few times prior). A book that no one may see worth reading, but I definitely feel it is worth telling.

Day 713

Every year my husband and I try to get away for a vacation-just the two of us. This year we struggled with whether or not we should go. With a surgery on the books coming up, and additional expenses coming out of our paychecks, we seriously considered staying at home and putting off our trip. Unfortunately, if my vacation time was not used prior to my surgery I would have had to use my time when I was off. This would mean I would miss out on the opportunity to get away at all this year.

With our health and attitudes going downhill, we made the last minute decision to go.

But where?

That seemed to be the infamous question. Before the extra medical expenses, we shot around the idea of going to Napa Valley to go horseback riding in the countryside. Stay in room with a view and a chance to see all nature had to offer (a horseback ride included).  Unfortunately, the trip was too long of a drive and flying was out of the question.

We talked about going back to Florida. Disney World? A chance to be a kid before we have kids; or, maybe down to the Florida Keys this time. Again, the driving distance seemed too much to tackle and we quickly tossed out that idea. Although, the beach seemed like the logical place to go for a vacation.

Colorado? Growing up, my family would take us kids on similar vacations across the southwest. Having been to Pikes Peak before, I thought it might be a nice trip to go up to the mountains and spend some time in a pretty lodge.  Maybe we could enjoy a ski trip and cozy fireplace to warm up to in the evenings.

Chicago?  What is there to do in Chicago besides go to a ballgame (not playing at the time), or chow down on bagels and pizza?

Georgia? I love Georgia peaches. The hillside in that area is breathtaking, and we considered making a trip through Greensboro, GA-just for the food. I researched places on the coastline and debated going to Savannah after remembering how beautiful my daddy described it after going on a business trip when I was younger. We could stay in Savannah one night, go to a honey bee company and tour the process/taste something sweet, have a night in town, and then head out to the beach for a getaway.

"You do realize that isn't a safe place to stay, don't you?"

My daddy quickly put that idea to rest when I let him know our plans. Therefore, I had my mind set up on Amelia Island. Aside from the fact that I just adore the name Amelia for a little girl, it was an exclusive section off the East coast-known for the wild horses that come through the sandy beaches. Known for its quaint bed and breakfasts, we would dine on the beach between candlelight and stay in private room overlooking the ocean in a gorgeous bed and breakfast. I could not wait!

Just kidding.

With the trip totaling over a 20 hour drive, we would have zero time to spend there. Not to mention the costs of some of these B&Bs were outrageous!

So, I planned the most romantic getaway to Pine Mountain, GA. We could sightsee and dine in mom and pop shops in the middle of town. Staying in a luxury hotel nestled amidst a 13,000 acre garden and nature preserve, we could take in the beauty of Callaway Gardens and explore nature at its finest.   Known for its beautiful gardens, hiking scenes, and animal adventure-it was perfect. I found hotels online and researched locations of each of the attractions in the area. We could even go horseback riding!

Sunday morning, we sat listened to the week's announcements as the pastor shared they were cancelling evening services due to the weather.

Wait, weather?

I didn't even think to look at the weather! So, I pulled up the national map on my phone as I watched the storms build throughout Oklahoma, Georgia, and Colorado. Then, down near the gulf was a perfectly sunny strip of shoreline.
Florida it is!

Already having packed outdoorsy weather, we had to rethink our belongings since we were now looking at three days on the beach. Tennis shoes were exchanged for flips. I tossed in a few towels and threw on a pair of sunglasses as I grabbed my floppy hat and camera.

*Enter loud obnoxiously scary noise here.

Suddenly, the tornado sirens rang as we were forced to put our plans on hold. We watched as the swirl grew in the sky-touching down just miles away from family north of our home. We waiting impatiently in the hallway with the pups and a mattress pulled off the master bed.  Finally, it passed and we were able to drive to take the granddogs to their Mimi and Papaw's.

We weren't on the road until approximately 8pm that evening. Knowing it was a 17hour drive there, we trekked across town as the sun set beside us. The night was long, but the drive was longer. As we made our way from state-to-state, we pushed through the darkness until the sun came out. Then, we continued to our final destination-relaxation.

Vast

...continued.

A young lady let us know that our table was ready as she walked us to our seats. After a few minutes of taking in the atmosphere, our waiter greeted us with the drink specials. We had a moment to browse the menu as we selected which entrees we would dare to try.

Hubby ordered the filet mignon (a sweet backup in case mine wasn't to my liking) while I had the rack of lamb. The chef brought us out a taste of salmon mousse (too bad I found out approximately two years ago that I am highly allergic to seafood). I politely pushed mine aside as the waiter gave us each two delicious dinner rolls-1)A sun-dried tomato puff  and 2)a delicious jalapeno with creamy boursin filling. Dinner arrived in a reasonable amount of time as we talked about our week.

My. Food. Was. Delicious.

The lamb was so tender that it fell apart with a fork. The juices were flavorful while the carrots and potatoes were just right. Hubby's steak was cooked perfectly while the garlic and butter perfectly melted into the meat.

If anyone knows me, they know that I am certainly a meat and potatoes kind of girl. That being said, I was leaning towards eating another helping before reaching for dessert; however, we ordered the waiter's recommendation for something sweet with a cup of coffee.

After filling ourselves to the brim, we finally decided to throw in the towel. We politely asked if there was a quiet place we could sit and admire the view as we were asked to take a seat on the bench. Being misunderstood, the manager came up to us and took us for a tour on the north side of the tower-asking what type of event we were looking to hold there. Embarrassed, we quickly let them know it was just for future endeavors and he slipped us his business card.

We walked to the elevator that seemed to go even faster while using gravity in its favor. I snapped a couple last photos as we made our way back to the pickup truck.  The air was cool, but my heart was warm as I reached for the hand of my husband. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the amount of love I have been blessed with.

Vast, Beyond all Measure

It's Friday, it's Friday,
My favorite day of the working week!

Partially because I only work a short day on Friday, partially because I spend the afternoon with my grandparents, and partially because it is the beginning of a great break from the routine-I love Fridays.

I started the day off right with Chick-fil-a chicken and biscuits (courtesy my amazing employer) and a chance to brag on my co-workers in our monthly meeting. After the usual what-nots around the office, I went back to my desk to play catch up (and fix the catch-all that my desk had become over the busy week). As a case manager, the appropriate caseload for an individual would be anywhere between 15-25 clients. On the flipside, my caseload has officially reached 65+. I often thank God for blessing me with a memory to keep track of their names, family histories, children's names, and important details to connect on their level. That same memory, however, can be seen as a blessing and a curse. I don't seem to forget anything.

I often find it difficult to separate work from my personal life. I mean, who wouldn't in my shoes? I go home and wonder if some of my couples will have a roof over their heads that evening, if they had running water or went without food again, if their children are being watched and taken care of, if their pasts are keeping them awake, and whether they are reliving the cycle of violence they grew up in. Therefore, Friday is my official cue that I don't have to worry about these things until the next week. I have provided resources and assistance alongside the education of the curriculum to keep these couples safe-if only for a weekend.

So, I wrapped up my day that morning and headed out for a few days with the fam.  First stop, Gramma and Pawpaw's.

I may or may not be a little bit spoiled loved. After picking up some meat to take to the parents for a delicious cookout the Sunday prior, I mentioned to my grandparents that we needed to buy some ribs to throw on the grill next time. Low and behold, I was greeted with a hug and a kiss from each of them, and a big plate of yummy barbecued ribs!  Homemade potato salad and strawberries n' cream were the perfect sides for a filling lunch.  We talked about the usual things we do every week and laughed our cares away.

Driving into the area, I spotted a garage sale sign around the corner from their house (one of my Gramma's favorite hobbies). We hopped in the van and ran around the nearby neighborhoods and spent our afternoon enjoying the sunshine.

On my way home, I called my sweet hubby to see if he had left the dungeon (AKA his job). I asked what the plans were for the evening and he said we were going to go out to eat.

"With the family?" I asked.

"No," he said, "we have reservations at 8:30pm.

He continued from there to let me know that we had reservations at Vast, a fancy restaurant at the top of the tallest building from here to the Mississippi (maybe). I was so shocked I couldn't help but argue with him. Sure enough, he got home and began to ask if I was going to get ready to go. I put on a pretty new dress and my bubblegum pink heels for a night on the town.

The sunset was beautiful, and I couldn't wait to get there. We were fortunate enough to find a parking place right up front (and it was FREE). The building seemed to reach into the sky and glistened in the light. 

All dolled up for dinner.

My handsome hubby in his trendy attire.

 

As we rounded the corner in the atrium, we spotted the sign to the restaurant. There was a hostess sitting outside the door and she asked our name. After hubby confirmed the reservations, she opened a large glass door and directed us to the elevators.

49th floor.

I do believe it took less time to get up to the 49th floor than it does to get to the second at my work. My ears popped three four times before we reached the top. My stomach turned a flip as I took one step off the elevator and had to reach for my husband. I literally felt like I stepped into a different state. We were directed to a long bench while we waited to be seated. The entire wait staff was dressed to a T as they made their way around the room effortlessly. Everyone walked at a steady pace-no rushing.

To be continued...

I've Got Sunshine.

It doesn't seem too much to ask to have expectations for your birthday. I suppose I just thought it would be nice if the entire world (including the sunshine) would want to wake up that morning and celebrate...well...me. You can imagine my disappointment when I looked at the weather the day before my birthday and saw that a record low would be making its way into Oklahoma on the following day.

You can imagine my reaction when I rounded the corner after venting to my coworkers, only to find a beautiful banner with the words, "I've got sunshine on my birthday". Encircling my entire desk, picture after picture of sunshine surrounded me. All I could do was shed a happy tear and hug the necks of those I share 8 or more hours of my day with.

The following morning I went to bed only to wake up to my husbands cheerful voice singing happy birthday and beautiful clothes hanging in front of me-a peach floral dress and a sheer top (with appropriate attire to wear beneath them).

Once at work, I was greeted with a beautiful card and homemade strawberry jam (my favorite).







I rushed off that morning to attend my first meeting and wrapped it up with a sweet birthday wish and striped pink bag. Inside was a package of my favorite ink pens and bright-yellow wallet.








Minutes later, my coworkers called me into the supervisor's office where each of my friends stood around delicious angel-food cakes, a handmade banner with personal notes, and a sweet card each of them signed. As I stood there, they asked me to open the card-only to find an additional note sharing how much they cared about me. Then, paperclipped behind the note was...

...$103.00.

I. was. speechless.

Tears flooded my face as I thought of each of the sacrifices my coworkers must have made to contribute to making my birthday special. Money is tight, and we certainly don't do what we do for the cash.

"Thank you," was all I could say as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks.

I spent my lunch hour trying to do justice for the gift I had received-making thank you emails to each of my coworkers.  Then, I went about my day.

That night was equally as special as I wrapped up at my desk and found a single yellow rose and a sticky note from a dear friend. "Happy Birthday. Thought your day deserved some bright and cheery! Love, Ginger".

Wow.

I walked in to teach my class only to be greeted with two of the sweetest people I have the pleasure of serving. In their hands was a large white bag as they shared they had brought me some delicious goodies to celebrate my big day, and boy were they delicious!

I shared the yummy brownies and cookies that the dad had brought from his work at the Devon towers downtown (he is such a talented chef). Then, we wrapped up class that evening with everyone singing in chorus that birthday song!

I couldn't wait to get home to my hubby and share my day with him. That night I ended it the same day it began-with a hug and a kiss from the man of my dreams.

Sunshine-filled days are the best.