17. Run the Race REPOST

Written December 19, 2019 REPOSTED

For years I feel like things have been taking place in my life that is guiding me to a very specific direction. I am someone who is a GO! DO! I will not go anywhere or do anything without connecting it to another task. My brain is constantly moving and thinking and chugging and idea-ing. Honestly…it's exhausting. And for years I have questioned WHY?! Why am I this way?
Many nights I desired a peace that I didn't even fully understand. In my quest to find the “me” definition I was seeking, I thought I could find it in the things I did. In the process I began to pick up more and fill my plate even fuller-'maybe this will work', I would think. There was a fear that I DIDN’T WANT TO MISS IT …so with every single opportunity, I took it on: There was a time that with everything I was tackling, I was waking up between 4:00-5:00 every morning; hiring a sitter just to get work done; falling asleep at the computer many nights; putting movies on for my kids who were not yet in school so I could plug in working hours during the day…I ignored invitations to do things, and go places. I did everything I possibly could to make sure that no opportunity passed me by. 

I missed it all. With every single thing I added to my plate, I let go of something else. Right around Christmas 2016 when I was pregnant with Parker, I began hearing God tell me to empty my plate. Start removing things. And at first I thought, "There is no way. I would be leaving someone hanging in the process. But slowly and with the most beautiful amount of patience I didn't deserve, God reminded me again and again. He held my hand every time He whispered "It will be ok" and I cried shaking my head saying "but how?!" Over the following two years, I S-L-O-W-L-Y began letting go and opening my heart to God allowing Him to breath into me my worth through HIS eyes. It was time to slow down. It was time to refocus. It was time to let go.

Sitting. Resting. Pondering. Slowly. Developing. These are not words I hold in my vocabulary very easily. But it was exactly what God was asking me to do. Slow down and Hear HIM. It didn’t matter how much I was trying to do for others or for my family. I was still missing God because of how noisy my life had become. Little by little, things were cleared from my plate and with each one, it wasn't the feeling of failure I dreaded…it was a sigh of relief. A breath of God's fresh air.

One morning while praying I was given a picture of the scene right before a horse race begins….I was inside the tiny stall the horse and rider are put into. I heard every noise, felt the overwhelming chaos, the unsettling jumpiness of bumping back and forth into the sides with the smallest movements; These horses were ready for the gate to be opened and the opportunity for them to DO what they have been training tirelessly to do. But as long as the gate stays closed, they remain waiting anxiously and impatiently inside. 

I saw that I was one of God’s horses…. I recognized how hard it felt to be kept in the little stall….over and over again bumping into the sides and feeling trapped. I knew I was one of His called (as are each of us) I confessed my readiness and dedication to serve Him and love on people in His name. But I also recognized how hard it was to hear His voice above the noise. I didn’t want to stay in this stall anymore than the horses do before the big race. But I knew in my heart, this was where God asked me to be.
This has become my waiting spot over the years. The slowly letting go of things that God was asking me to let go of until it was only me and Him and I feel I have finally hit that spot of understanding a complete and total surrender. He has shown me what it means to wait: To still myself in His presence. To focus through the noise of what is surrounding me daily. To listen intently for His voice. To feel His presence through the pain and despite fidgeting uncomfortably and wanting to break free in a FULL on sprint, I knew He was teaching me how to let go of my good ideas and my plans and my timing and trust Him. 

Maybe you are in your own stall. I don't know when God is opening my gate any more than I know when He will open yours. He reminds that it will happen. But in the meantime, don’t try to break out. Trust Him. Stop and listen to what He is trying to teach you. Chances are, if you feel He has put you in a time of waiting, He has something important for you to learn. And believe that even in that stall, He is using you in big ways. It may not always feel like it, but what you do behind that closed gate can make more of an impact in His kingdom than in front of a crowd of millions.

(Photo not my own)

16. Getting back Up

Within the first couple weeks of being home, I was still having questionable symptoms. From a returning rash, to pain that resembled the start of it all and more. I called the only number that was given to me multiple times which was the number for my OB office. Initial blood tests showed my numbers were high again indicating something was still “floating” around in my system. An ultrasound was ordered, more blood work more testing. After a little more than a week, the recurring tests eventually came back normal and I sat in the office one afternoon, still with pain, still with questions unanswered waiting to have a face to face conversation with the doctor.

Dr. B (my delivery doctor) stood in front of me….a big smile on her face as she told me all my tests were now normal. Good news, yes….but in all honesty, their version of normal lost all meaning to me at that point. As I continued to express my concern and irritation for the seemingly indifferent attitude I was receiving from them since being home combined with the fact I was still having symptoms regardless of the testing, she frustratingly threw her arms in the air and said, “We’ve done every test we can think of, what else would you like us to do?” 

My mind was screaming at my doctor. Anger, sadness, fear, defeat. Further conversation was had, tears were choked back as I thought to myself, “If my own doctors who walked through the entire ordeal are giving up on me….what do I do now?” I didn’t have an answer and I so badly wanted to get my point across. I wanted to shoot words her way to stop her in her tracks. To feel the pain I was struggling with daily. To understand the fear of finding out the severity of my condition on my own. To remind her what happened. And show her how much it felt like they abandoned me. 

I left the office feeling completely helpless and totally alone. I cried to Adam that night, and my mom, and my sister in law. They let me be angry as I spoke but ultimately I just felt defeated. 

I wanted to continue to blame the doctors for everything and stay angry at them forever. But at the same time, I wanted them to tell me what I needed to do to get better. Yes, it was their choice to respond and treat me the way they did, but it was in that moment that God stepped in, brought me to my knees once again and whispered to my heart,

“I’ve still got you. I‘ll never let you go. You are not abandoned”

Because of my anger, my focus was shifting. I no longer saw the doctors as a tool in God’s hand, I was seeking them for answers that they could not give. Sometimes it is hard to keep things in perspective: But trust when God strips away your earthly lifelines, He’s bringing you to your knees, it is not because he wants to see you weak, it is because he is building in you the strength to get back up.

15. Mom’s Home REPOST

As I reflect over the past year, so much has happened. The idea that it was a roller coaster doesn’t even seem to do it justice. Life changed. Plain and simple. Yet my surroundings never did. Although the next handful of moments I will share with you were written in the moment I was experiencing them, they are not any less significant today. It’s interesting for me to look back and see the journey that trauma took me on. Again, I will say: God showed up. No matter if it was an up or if it was a down (or somewhere floating in between) God showed up. I suppose, though, He never left. I just saw Him move in different ways.

This particular memory was one that I wrote within days of coming home from the hospital. They say it takes about a month for one to be officially diagnosed with PTSD symptoms. I can read through this particular experience and long for the time that life felt this simple and this full after my experience yet when I was living through it, I wasn’t able to fully see it that way. Regardless, I look upon this moment fondly as it felt like a moment of calm. A calm that sat in between two storms; two storms of survival: the first storm was one of a physical nature (which ultimately continued to carry into each day), and the one to come after this moment, which was a storm of emotional, mental and spiritual survival.

I think there are many times God gives us mile markers-ones we can look back at and see a foundation being built or a moment that changes perspective. Often times, I find that these moments are so very simple and if we are not careful, we can overlook some of the most monumental ways God wants to speak to us. It was this moment that led me into the next. But it was also this moment that kept me going through the rest.  My marker of peace. My marker of strength. My marker of rest. My marker that even to this day brings the calm He wanted me to feel no matter what storm was beginning to rage during the next season...

After everything that has happened since Luke was born, the last couple days have hit me the hardest. Im finding it easy to feel sadness over certain things...things that are so beyond anything I am used to it's almost as if I have to be a completely different person than what I've always been.

Then I hear it again....my doctor sitting at the edge of my hospital bed holding my hand apologizing for the oversight on their part when I called in the day before my health deteriorated. Hearing her say to me that first night i was in the ER: "I think we can get you better." and quickly I find myself reliving what me and my family went through and whether I like it or not the tears flow. 

BUT I realize that through everything, a prayer that I have prayed over the last year has been answered....peace. peace among my crazy messy chaos. and I see that now more than ever I have had to slow down-not by my own desire but by necessity. and honestly even with all the things that make me sad and emotional, I have never felt so much peace.

🌿Laying beside Luke and watching him sleep as he goes through the million sleeping baby faces. 

🌿Seeing each and every drop of mud splashed all over Parker’s clothes as he plays in the digging hole in the backyard in between rain showers. 

🌿Soaking in every second of the shows Kaylee has put on for me and hearing the number of times she has said "mom's home. it feels like life again."

🌿Listening to Chloe singing made up songs to Luke as she gets to have a turn to feed him his bottle. 

🌿Seeing just how perfectly destructive Austin is as he sharpens sticks into spears that he knows will be confiscated as soon as he is done. 

🌿Witnessing the inner 'daddy strength' that Adam never knew he had as he prepares bottles and wakes up with Luke in the middle of the night so I can get a little more rest. 

Everything is so very different this time around and as easy as it is to be sad about a lot of it....and believe me MANY tears have already been shed...there is truth and comfort knowing that God is good- all the time! Quite often it's in the littlest moments we tend to overlook....so here I am: a little bit sad. a little bit angry. a little bit tired. a little bit afraid. and then I hear my beautiful oldest baby say it again...."mom's home. it feels like life again." and that peace I've prayed for washes over me and I know Gods still got us. 😉

14. Dream #3

Written August 30, 2019 and Reposted:

The last and final dream of the night was perhaps the most spiritually significant one that I could recognize. It was one that I believe really illustrated the intense spiritual battle that we each face but even more than that, just how powerful the name of Jesus is when we stand in the authority He has given us.

Dream #3

I was falling backwards down a dark hole/well type place. It appeared as if I was falling in slow motion but soon the falling stopped and I was left suspended mid air looking up. Surrounding me on all sides were hands that started grabbing at me from every direction. Colorless, angry hands desperately trying to get a grip on me somehow with full intention of pulling me down into the darkness below me. Although the desperation of their intent was obvious, the movement itself was more like quicksand slowly grabbing and sliding away. as the hands relentlessly tried again and again to grip me, I recognized that my body never budged in any direction as if I was laying on top of a rock. Over and over again I would hear myself scream STOP! And as I did, a giant tongue like thing wrapped itself around my head. From the back to the front it kept trying to cover my mouth. Each time it reached around, I was able to move my head to one side or another and it pulled back and disappeared. The whole time I was laying there, screaming for it to stop, hands grabbing at me and the tongue like thing trying to cover my screams, I was witnessing it all from above my body looking down watching the whole thing play out and very aware I was in a dream. I remember thinking "I need to wake up" as I watched myself screaming. As the tongue slapped around onto my face again in the scene below, I turned my head to one side and knew what I had to do….this time I screamed "IN THE NAME OF JESUS- STOP!" and everything in an instant was gone. And I woke up.

I have had much time to replay this dream over and over again. Each time I do, it becomes more apparent that fear was being used to get to me in the vulnerability of my sickness and in the darkness of the night. But even more, I felt as if  the enemy was using that fear and intimidation to try to silence me. I wanted to lay there and cry (which I did) I felt defeated and scared. I felt the hopelessness come over me in an instant after waking up. But it didn’t take me long to realize, I couldn’t stay silent. I felt the comforting touch of the Holy Spirit as He reminded me that by the power of His name, the intimidation of the enemy withers away when we bring our fears to light. So, as I wrote before, I reached for my phone, listened to a beautiful song that reminded me just how good God is and made the first official post on social media asking for prayer as I briefly told people of my current situation.  Most people didn’t even know I was in the hospital. Myself and my family were so consumed with everything that was going on, telling people about it was last on our priority. In a way, I felt like it was inappropriate to share as we really didn’t know the outcome of it all. Again, the Lord gently reminded me that I was not meant to stay silent in my suffering...

Up to that point, no one knew when I would be going home. Even the first night I was there, the predicted two days quickly increased to at least three then changed to “soon”.  But the call for prayer was answered. And without knowing it, within 48 hours, I would be walking back up the same steps to my house that started the journey.

I believe this is a message that is not just for me but a powerful reminder for all of God's Church. This is not a time for us to stay silent. This is a time to let Jesus into the parts of our lives we have tried to keep hidden. The parts we have been convinced to stay silent about. The parts that we have been intimidated to not share for fear of what others will think of us instead of recognizing that we are made to help each other through our struggles. What He has done in your life-how he has pulled you from your own struggles is a story worth telling. How your life has changed because of Jesus Christ is not something to keep quiet. The story of YOU that God has given only to you is one that is meant to be told. No one else can reach the people God has planned for you to reach. Do not stay silent anymore. Do not be afraid. Trust that when you open your mouth, God will fill it with his words….nothing less, nothing more.  This is not the time to be intimidated. This is the time to declare his goodness over our lives and over the lives of those we love and watch the darkness and intimidation just melt away and lose its grip on us. The enemy cannot keep us down; the enemy cannot pull us down no matter how hard he tries to grab us….not when we cling to our savior Jesus Christ. It is time to shout his glorious name friends. Don’t be silent anymore.

13. Dream # 2 REPOST

The second dream I had that particular night was very upsetting to me to say the least, as I am sure you will see why. At the time, I did not have any direction to “understanding” it but over the months, I have asked for further guidance and I believe God has been taking those nightmares and speaking directly to them. This one I believe is a message He wants me to share.

Dream #2:
I was walking outside. As I walked, the green grass became a very dark and loose dirt. the flat ground slowly became a hillside. As I walked I stepped on something. I looked down and it was a baby. A naked newborn baby that resembled a plastic baby doll. I knew in an instant the baby was no longer alive, although it once was, I looked up and around me-the field I once was walking in became a giant hole of dirt. I was standing inside the giant open hole and there were deceased babies everywhere. In my dream I recognized that someone had been throwing unwanted babies in this hole/pit to die.

Fast forward to October this past year….the month of Halloween. Driving through the neighborhoods, one house in particular really struck me: scattered through the yard was “dead” baby dolls….zombie baby dolls. Baby dolls that had blood dripping down the sides of their heads. Baby’s dolls that had their eyes gauged out. It hit me in the gut. I was sickened by this display. Sadly, as much as I hope for it to be, I knew this was not the only house who used the imagery of dead, beaten babies as decoration this October… and my heart ached. It ached for the eyes of my 5 children who also had to see the same things out on someones yard. It ached for the mom who thought she didn’t have a choice but to have an abortion and is now struggling with guilt, shame and depression. It ached for the families who have lost precious children of their own. My heart ached for the people who think this kind of imagery is ok to any degree. My heart ached for our children growing up in an environment that is trying so desperately to desensitize them to grotesque abuse such as this. 

And I felt the Holy Spirit grieve.

One can say that they are just dolls, just decorations, just “for fun”. But we all know there is a battle going on for the lives of real babies….His babies. His precious creations. His life is being thrown away. Some may read about this dream and hear a call to pray for a stop to abortion. For those hearing that, I hope you will take that call and begin praying what the Lord lays on your heart.

For others, I believe that I am telling this dream to allow the Holy Spirit to work on the hearts of those reading it in whatever way He desires. As I passed by that house, all I could do was pray for parents and the children in today’s world.  Whether you are a parent yourself, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle, a neighbor, a teacher, a friend....It changes with us and I believe have a job to do: To teach children this kind of imagery-this kind of “fun” is not fun at all. This world wants to rob our children of everything good. It wants to teach our kids to walk past the suffering. It wants to teach our kids that death is something to be laughed at…to be displayed on our front lawns as decorations, to be watched on tv for entertainment, to be reasoned away by “experts” with opinions.

This is a real battle….not between you and me….not between the mom who had an abortion and the one who didn’t. Not between politics or your opinion or mine. This is a spiritual battle for our hearts-for my heart. For your heart. For children’s hearts.  If we want the eyes of  children to be opened, if we want them to learn right from wrong…our eyes must be opened first. Do not stand back while  children of all ages (without knowing it) losses this battle with the world. Teach them to appreciate life. Teach them to respect life. ALL life….not just the lives the world tells you to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*I am well aware of the intense emotions a topic like this may stir up. I sincerely offer my listening ear to anyone who may need it. Please email me at any time. I am ready to stand beside you and lift you in prayer and walk beside you in your journey. If you are someone who is suffering silently with anything relatable to this topic, please reach out….if not to me, to someone you trust.

12. Where do dreams come from?

I briefly mentioned waking up in the middle of the night on day three of my hospital stay with suffocating nightmares. I believed at the time that it was the enemy trying to intimidate me and make me fearful….one last attempt to slow me down and silence me. But over the last few months, I am realizing that perhaps these dreams were never from the enemy to begin with. Perhaps these dreams were from God himself. But the question of why a God so great would give dreams that left me feeling terrified plagued me. I am one who has repeatedly reminded myself and others that God is not the author of fear so to say He gave me these dreams could not possibly be the case….could it? I still do not fully understand the origin of the dreams. But as I share them, I believe you will agree with me that it doesn’t really matter. What we must focus on is perspective. And not our perspective but living a life through the eyes of Jesus. When we do, revelation comes even in the middle of a fear driven moment. With each dream I had that night, it is true that I felt a level of fearful intimidation, but God has taken those dreams one by one and shown where He stood. He illustrated His authority and power that can only be found through being focused on Him and by doing so, also reminded me of what authority lives within me because He walks with me. I believe with all my heart it was yet another way He was preparing me for what I would encounter outside of the hospital once I went home-preparing my armor, strengthening my heart and providing me weapons so I could face the next step as the intense battle of recovery would begin. 

Dream 1: 
Imagine a carousel and the way it moves around in a circle. Now remove the horses and anything fun leaving you with the platform and movement. I was standing right in the center where there was no motion and what was circulating around me were very real TV-like images. The best I can describe the general feel of the imagery was carnival horror movie. Moulin rouge weird. Each scene circled around in its own TV screen before it passed by and the next one followed. Once scene stopped in front of me. There was a group of behind-the-scene carnival like people. Dirty, makeup running, drinking, drugs, cackling laughter, hanging all over each other in a cloud of smoke. There was one man in the middle. He had a white stained sleeveless undershirt on with black suspenders holding up pants too big for him. It was as if he was the dirty clown in half the costume. His makeup was only partially on his face and running off with sweat. His dark hair was messy as if he just took off a wig. And he sat there in the middle of everything and everyone. No one else in the scene noticed me but the man in the middle locked eyes with me directly. Through the smoke, he reached his hand out to me and his hand came through the TV screen in from of me. He held it there and waiting for me to take it. It was as if he was offering me his hand to join them. I knew in my dream that if I took it, he would pull me in to become a part of this scene. I did not take his hand. And immediately that dream faded. 

Where was God in that dream? You may ask. A month after I was home, I was diagnosed with PTSD. During that time (and even sometimes now), I recognized an brand new urge to find something to help with the lingering effects (specifically the emotions and pain) I dealt with early on. It was the first time I remember ever craving an alcoholic beverage with a deep intense desire. According to the Foundations recovery network “Many individuals with PTSD will turn to drugs or alcohol as a way to numb their pain or to gain some measure of control in their lives.” Medical marijuana was mentioned at some point and the offer was tempting so much in fact I agreed to try it…but I never did. Immediately after I said yes, this dream flashed through my mind again. I could still see the hand that reached out to me as if the man was still waiting for me to take it and I heard the still small whisper of the Holy Spirit say to me “you don’t need that. You need me.” I have since dumped many drinks down the drain that were poured by me in an attempt to escape my feelings. The truth is, I couldn’t escape the truth that nothing-absolutely nothing was going to give me the relief I sought. There was only one person who could provide what I needed. And I had to make a choice once again: take the man’s hand of addiction offering a “way out” or turn from it and take the hand of Christ. I choose the latter. A life lived in a cloud of smoke is not the life God planned for any of us.

11. Goodness of God REPOST

Written January 8, 2020 REPOST

I woke up with a gasp. The room was dark. The dreams were so real-the nightmares that seemed to suffocate me in the darkest moments of the night. As I looked around, I realized I woke up to a different kind of nightmare. I was still in the hospital-strapped to the bed with IV’s, a heart monitor and leg compressors. I literally couldn’t move my legs on my own at that point because of the sepsis and everything they were pumping into my body over the previous three days. I was stuck and I had the sinking realization that I didn’t know when I would get to return home or see my kiddos again. Up to that point, I had kept a brave face. I never felt the fear so many people thought I would have in that situation. But it all caught up to me. I crumbled. I did the only thing that I knew to do….I reached for my phone and turned on the song “Goodness of God” by Jackie Baker. A friend had shared this song with me a few weeks before and as I lay there in the dark, feeling completely helpless, it only made sense to declare what I knew. 


🎼 “All my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so so good. With every breath that I am able. I will declare the goodness of God.” I whispered through a sob.

If any of you are like me, you know very well that there have been so many moments in life that we feel we didn’t deserve the love of God. But he loves us anyways. I thought of all the times in my life, even before I became an active follower of Christ, that he showed up again and again…..ALL my life He was faithful and in this moment I knew it was no different. I remember thinking, if nothing else, the very least I could do was declare His goodness. 

That night was a turning point for me in, what is safe to say, was a life changing experience. Ever since then, this song carries a whole new kind of weight. I found myself tonight realizing I had been avoiding listening to it over the last few months because of the intense memory it brought back. But I sat down on my living room floor-my kids making balloon animals on one side of the room, Luke playing with his toys on the other, and I turned it on. 

🎼 “Your goodness is running after, its running after me. With my life laid down, I’m surrendered now. I give you everything. Cause your goodness is running after, it keeps running after me.” 

Friends, I have had A LOT of ups and downs on this journey-and the truth is that whether it is a beautiful up or a major down, God is good. He really is. 

Maybe you are going through something right now and you are wondering where He is…..ask Him to show you. Maybe you have already been through the ringer and God has pulled you through or maybe things are going really well for you right now….thank Him tonight (even if you already have). Maybe you haven’t given Him a chance yet….open your heart and let Him show you that even in the midst of your doubt, He loves you unconditionally. No matter where you are, I pray you listen to this song….let it sink in and truly reflect on the words. I pray you find yourself laying down everything you think you know and soak in what He has done for you in your life. To the point His goodness just bubbles over and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to tell someone about it. Don’t be afraid to share Him. We need more voices singing the words

 🎼 “I love your voice. You have led me through the fire. In the darkest night you are close like no other. I’ve known you as a Father. I’ve known you as a friend. And I have lived in the goodness of God."

10. Double Fisted Faith

Double fisted faith. 

Where did this concept come from and what does it mean? If you are not familiar with the Bible story in Daniel 3, I highly recommend you take some time to read through it. It was brought to my attention just a few weeks back (actually just before I started this page) that we as Christians are called to live the double fisted faith life. But how many of us can actually say we do? In all honesty, I never thought I could live up to what this actually means, but as I was reading through a study called Rooted that I have been participating in through church, I came across this from one of the readings. It was only after reading it that I realized I just lived through my furnace and walked out my double fisted faith. But in the moment, it wasn’t a conscious choice that I made-it was the result of the past six years of my life where I have been actively following and seeking Christ, allowing Him to completely transform my entire life each and every day. Don’t wait until you are faced with your furnace. Now is a perfect time to start your walk with Jesus Christ. 

9. Lingering Effects

Someone recently asked me if I had any lingering effects after briefly sharing my story. Immediately I said no, but I have come to realize that’s not true. I have often based my lingering side effects from a physical view point and comparison. This is where I have still been struggling: So many sepsis survivors have had to stay in the hospital for months, been in comas, lost limbs, have had to continue endless antibiotics long after the hospital, have had to learn how to walk, breath and eat all over again, have had to go through many surgeries, struggle with other continued illnesses and the list goes on. It is true that while I was in the hospital I could not move my legs on my own and needed assistance in pretty much everything and after I got home I still needed help with simple tasks like getting dressed. The intense pain continued every single day for nearly four months and because sepsis tends to eat away at muscle mass, I still struggle up and down the steps or during any activity where any amount of strength or physical endurance is needed. The mental and emotinal journey is another topic entirely, one which I will be touching on later. The truth is, I live with lingering side effects every single day but they have become a new normal that some days I don’t even see them as not normal.

As I reflect, its often hard for me to wrap my head around the severity of my case mixed with the knowledge that I left the hospital after only five days. I walk. I breath. And comparison rears it’s ugly head again: How can I possibly claim to have lingering effects? What grounds do I have to even speak on these effects when I know others out there are physically struggling with more and have been for longer?

I won’t lie, nearly every day I have compared myself to other people and I often wonder, what makes my story any more significant than someone else’s? And the truth is, it isn’t. It isn’t any more significant than your story but it’s not any less significant either. As a follower of Christ, we must recognize that whatever that story is, it is a tool in our tool belt. Only you will be able to reach the people you are meant to reach with your details. Only I will be able to reach the people I am meant to reach with my details. God has designed our lives this way. To compare is an insult, as if telling Him, “you got it wrong, my voice and my story is not important.” 

They key is, how can we do what God has intended for us to do if we stay silent?

8. Darkness Thought It Had Her

I began this blog to intentionally share the details of the very real battle most of us find ourselves in at some point in our lives. No, your story may not be one of sepsis, but I guarantee you DO have a story. As I have said many times before, the details of your story are unique to you. What will you do with them?

Through each and every moment I have shared along this journey, God has revealed to me where He was through it all. I am merely a vessel and these are my details that I trust God is working through. As scary as battles are to face, they are real. We live in a world where the enemy hates us and all things good. It is no secret that there is, in fact, good and evil but one of the biggest successes of the enemy is the deception that we must keep both triumphs and especially struggles to ourself. If nothing else, as you read through my story, Jesus wants you to know that YOU ARE NEVER ALONE. 

I have since had many humbling conversations with others who have simply said “I have a story too.” Some have chosen to share, others are not yet ready. But it has opened my eyes to how many suffer silently. All it takes is one voice to break the silence. I pray that HIS voice finds you. And when it does, your heart is open to hear Him and you take that step of faith and trust which can be so incredibly scary and life giving at the same time.

7. The Diagnosis

I heard the word “sepsis” mumbled the very first night I was in the ER. After that-no one; not one single person mentioned it again to me or the three family members who were there with me. When the infectious disease doctor from the hospital visited my room followed by the cardiac doctor on day 4, I was told the same thing from both of them: I had gotten an infection in my uterus called endometritis. The bacteria that was found throughout my entire body, including the one attacking my uterus where it all started, was STREP A. (Strep A is NOT the same thing as Strep B. Strep B is something that every woman is tested for during pregnancy. Should a woman carry this bacteria, it can potentially be dangerous to the newborn baby and extra precautions would be taken. I tested negative for Strep B.) 

Strep A is a common bacterium that is found on the skin or in the throat (often referred to as Strep Throat) These bacteria are spread by direct contact with nose and throat discharges of an infected individual or with infected skin lesions. Although it was mentioned that endometritis is not uncommon for women after having a baby, Strep A in the bloodstream is. (After all was said and done, everyone from my second infectious disease doctor, to pediatrician to chiropractor to PCP to my therapist, each person appeared to be stunned when I told them it was Strep A that caused the infection in my uterus which then spread to my bloodstream: “How did that happen?” I heard on more than one occasion.)

I have no way of knowing when the infection started or how I got it. I can only speculate that it began while I was in the hospital after having Luke when the cramping started. But no matter the time frame, the chills I had Thursday night was the first indication the infection began to spread to my bloodstream. 

So what is sepsis? Sepsis is the result of a massive immune response to bacterial infection that gets into the blood. According the Sepsis Alliance website, “Your immune system usually works to fight any germs to prevent infection. If an infection does occur, your immune system will try to fight it…. However, for reasons researchers don’t understand, sometimes the immune system stops fighting the “invaders” and begins to turn on itself. This is the start of sepsis.“

There are three stages of sepsis: sepsis, severe sepsis, and septic shock. If a person is septic, it IS an emergency as it can kill within hours and nearly everyone who is in stage three is cared for in the ICU. According to the Sepsis Alliance, “sepsis takes an estimated 270,000 lives every year in the United States. It takes more lives than opioid overdoses, breast cancer and prostate cancer combined.” 

A few weeks after I was home, I was still having issues. Unfortunately I was not getting a lot of help from my doctors anymore so we decided to find another infectious disease doctor not related to the first group. In doing so, we obtained a copy of my records where we saw for the first time that when I went into the ER that Saturday, I was in stage 3: severe sepsis/septic shock (the only thing keeping my body from going into full shock was my blood pressure, although close, did not dip below a certain number.) 

During the follow up appointment with our second infectious disease doctor, we found out that Strep A Sepsis has a mortality rate of 60% and with every hour sepsis is not treated, that rate increases. Combining the fact that I sat on sepsis for more than 36 hours, and had an already compromised immune system from just having a baby, all he could say was “it very easily could have gone the other way.”...

6. My time with Jesus

*shortly after getting home from the hospital, I wrote down three different occasions where I felt the presence of Christ with me. What you see in italics as well as the sketches I drew are from those moments.

Saturday, June 8, 2019
While I was in the ER, it wasn't long before we realized my condition was still getting worse. Weirdly enough, no one seemed to be in any hurry. Upon getting there, my temperature was still over 102 (even with additional medication), my resting heart rate was around 150 and my blood pressure was what they were considering "border- line low". I felt freezing and kept asking for more blankets and despite multiple doses of medication and fluid,they couldn't get my fever down so one nurse recommended I stay outside of the blankets or they would likely have to pack me with ice. Fluids and blood work were started-tests were beginning to be ordered and...

🕊Not long after we got there, I remember my chest feeling heavy. I remember telling Adam I couldn't breathe. I remember feeling like my head was flopping from side to side instead of moving with intention. I remember feeling confused and not being able to tell if I was clearly speaking or even speaking at all. And I remember so very clearly feeling as if Jesus was with me-sitting on the edge of my bed holding my hand. And when I felt his presence, I remember thinking and feeling how easy it would be to fall asleep. All I wanted to do was sleep and I felt like I could sleep forever. I so very much wanted to sleep forever. My body felt so still at that moment. For however long those thoughts went through my head, I felt no pain, no cold, no fear, nothing but peace and stillness. Then I remember hearing Adam say, "Are you alright?" and I was aware again…

At some point Adam called my mom to switch places with him. We had taken Luke with us in hopes I would still be able to nurse him but obviously not being able to anymore, he needed to take Luke home and figure out formula. We were both overwhelmed-still no answers, no direction. It was strangely quiet. No one knew what was wrong with me. At least no one in the ER said so if they did. I was being watched. Perhaps they didn’t know how sick I was but how could they not? Regardless, a test was ordered...a CT scan. As they were wheeling me out of the room, standing in the doorway Adam was holding our 3 day old baby boy; cradling him in arms that made him look even tinier than the 6 lbs 9 oz he was. A baby I had carried with me for 6,570 hours but only had been able to hold and snuggle for less than 72. I knew my fifth child so well already. My baby. He was my baby. And I looked up at the man I built my life details with and loved for more than 12 years of my life as they slowed the bed in the doorway. He knew too. “Don’t worry. I got this.” He said. I nodded. Relief. I knew he did. And I loved him for it….

🕊We got to the imaging room. I was in so much pain. The nurse asked me if I could get up to move onto the table. I couldn't. So her and another lady wrapped me in the blanket to lift me over-in doing so caused excruciating pain to course though my body and I screamed out. “What hurts hunny?” I remember her asking me. I couldn’t answer. As I was laying there, waiting for the test to start, I remember trying to keep myself calm although I didn't feel panicked. And as I was processing the pain and anticipating the test beginning, I was given a clear vision of Jesus climbing onto the table directly beside me to lay down and wrap his arm around me. It was as if to say, "you're not doing this alone." Complete and total calm washed over me. If you could imagine a puddle of water that just had a drip cause the ripple effect suddenly stop and become as still as glass as if nothing rattled the surface to begin with, that was the calm I felt...

When I returned from the CT scan, Adam and Luke were gone and my mom was there. Still, no one had been told anything about what was going on. We had no answers and no indications. But at some point the ER finally contacted the lead OB in the practice (Dr. R) who had them start me on 3 different iv antibiotics. They decided to watch my heart rate for a little while longer to see if it would come down and once it hit the 130s, they transferred me to my own private room. 

🕊It was in this room I saw Dr. R for the first time. The room itself was dim and quiet. As Dr. R stood next to my bed talking to me, I mentioned I had a rash on my legs and she pulled my covers back to see that my legs were completely purple and somewhat patchy. It was in this moment her whole demeanor shifted and the atmosphere changed. My mom and I both recognized it as we heard her mumble the word, “sepsis” under her breath and saw the panic in her actions as she began typing into the computer. It was here in this room that she then sat on the side of my bed, holding my hand and apologizing for the oversight of symptoms at their office the day before. Here she said "I think we can get you better." and I nodded.

🕊It was in this room she had to pump me full of morphine so she could examine me to confirm what she was thinking: my uterus was infected. And it was during this time that the pain I was experiencing could be felt through the dose of morphine and my mom whispering to me and holding one hand while the nurse held my other so I couldn't push my doctor away. It was during this time that I felt as if another hand was touching my shoulder and I knew immediately He was with me again. The pain did not go away. Yet there was no fear and even more noticeable no doubt in a very dim situation. No "what ifs" played through my head. It was what it was. But I wasn't alone. And nothing else mattered. 

🕊We still had no understanding of the situation I was in and for the next three days it was as if I was simply existing. no thoughts -just going through what I had to go through. There was never an option of not living-it just didn't seem to exist. It was what it was….but there was a deep, unspoken knowledge cemented in my soul that I was blanketed by Jesus Christ.

5. The ER

Written February 26, 2020 REPOST

Saturday, June 8, 2019
Adam went back to work Saturday for the first time since Luke was born and my mom came to hang out with us for a little while and snuggle the newest grand baby. She got to our house shortly after he had left and despite attempting a smile, I couldn’t hide what I was feeling-the pain was undeniable, and as she looked at me with the concerned mom look, I assured her that I already spoke to the doctor and he said it was "normal".

Right before lunch, I decided to lay down for a nap. Luke was sleeping too and the kids were hungry so my mom took them all out to get some food. I have no idea how long I had been sleeping but I remember hearing them come back in the door and I felt someone standing over me but I couldn’t wake up-I didn’t have the energy to open my eyes and I drifted back off. 

When I finally did wake up, nearly three hours later, I had slept through the next dose of ibuprofen. I was incredibly flushed, a rash was showing all over my stomach, back and up the sides of my face. The pain was sickening to say the very least. The exhaustion felt so overwhelming I could hardly keep my eyes open and upon taking my temperature, I was just over 103. As I was sleeping, my mom had checked on me and noticed my breathing was incredibly short and shallow and although I couldn't tell at the time, it was continuing that way while I was awake talking to her. She looked at me with even more concern in her eyes and said "hunny, we need to call Adam." 

Within 15 minutes of calling him, briefly explaining what was going on and telling him to come home, he was walking through the door. When he did, we loaded up Luke (I was still nursing him) quickly decided my mom would stay with the other kids and headed out the back door and down the stairs to the car. (see post 1) I hugged my kiddos, reassured them the best I could that everything was going to be ok before heading to the ER. 

Every bump was excruciating. On our way, Adam called the midwife from my doctors office and left a message explaining the situation and telling her we were heading to the hospital. I couldn't find any physical strength anymore all I could do was close my eyes and pray the ride would be over soon. When we pulled into the ER. Adam ran in to get help. Still determined, I tried to get out of the car on my own but instantly, I fell back in my seat and laid there waiting for the wheelchair. Wheeling me to the front desk I answered a few questions and upon finding out I just had a baby three days prior, there was no waiting-they took me back immediately...

4. “I don’t feel good”

Written February 24, 2020 REPOST

Thursday, June 6, 2019

Luke and I were discharged Thursday afternoon. The cramping was still prevalent but did not seem to concern anyone I spoke to. As the nurse was going through the routine papers, she had reminded us not to be worried if I were to experience any flu like symptoms when the milk officially came in. This was not something we had heard in the past, but we didn’t think too much about it. Completing all the final paperwork, we bundled our new little man and headed for home with a prescription for the ibuprofen and instructions to continue taking it around the clock as needed. 

The truth is friends, I don’t remember our homecoming. There were only a few hours of being home from the hospital before symptoms started happening-although at the time, they were not alarming to us.

I remember feeling so exhausted and worn down which I contributed to the overnight labor and the joys of sleepless nights with a newborn already starting. I continued to take the Ibuprofen-a decision I still struggle with. Adam and the kids allowed me to lay on the couch for much of the day-excited to be doing their part to help me out; loving their new baby brother and each one cleaning the house for me as I rested. The cramping turned into a dull ache-something I contributed to sore muscles after labor and delivery. 

As bedtime came, all I could tell Adam was, “I don’t feel very good.” And decided to lay down. Adam tucked the kids in bed, Luke was out in the living room with me and I suddenly found myself very cold so I piled blankets on top of me and closed my eyes. Minutes later, my body was experiencing intense chills. For what felt like forever, I was uncontrollably shaking and two blankets and a space heater later, I finally stilled-even more exhausted then before but like nothing ever happened. We remembered what the nurse had said and thought perhaps it was just my milk coming in combined with the overall exhaustion from the last few days. It felt like everything was finally catching up to me. I fell asleep that night tired, and achy but nothing more...

Friday, June 7, 2019

Friday morning, I woke up with a pain stretching from side to side across my lower abdomen. I was still taking the ibuprofen every six hours and by early afternoon, I was barely able to make it through the pain to the sixth hour. Moving around began to get harder-if I was laying down the pain wasn’t quite as intense but by later afternoon, I could no longer straighten myself up to walk. Hunched over, I would take one sloth like step at a time when I absolutely had to. It was time to call my doctor. 

I spoke to the nurse practitioner who took my call. For nearly 20 minutes I explained in detail the chills I had the night before. I explained how the pain I was experiencing was completely different than the cramping I was having earlier. I told her that the pain was constant and was preventing me from moving around normally or walking straight. I also reminded her that I was still taking the Ibuprofen as recommended by Dr. B in the hospital. She relayed my information to the doctor doctor who was in the office that day, ( Dr. P) When she returned from having me on hold, she confirmed that Dr. P believed it to be "normal fresh from delivery stuff." They also told me "it could be a tendon" and to "wait out the weekend" And by this doctor’s suggestion, I was to continue taking the Ibuprofen every six hours for the pain.

As the evening came to a close, Adam was tucking the kids in bed while I was laying on the couch. I could hear my oldest daughter start to get upset as Adam told her I wouldn’t be able to make it back to the room to tuck her in. Her and I have our very own routine that she counts on every single night. She climbs in bed, I climb up her ladder pull the blankets on top of her and she kisses my head goodnight. After Adam came back out of their room, I could hear my oldest baby start to quietly cry-she knew I wasn’t feeling good and I could tell she was trying to stifle her tears. In my heart I knew I had to….I slowly peeled myself up off the couch-breathing heavily, I inched my way back to her room, braced myself for the first step of the ladder. -CREEK- the ladder hinted under my weight. Next step. “God help me.” I pleaded. And one last step brought me high enough to pull her blankets on top of her and wait for her sweet kiss. She smiled. “I love you my sweet girl” I smiled back. And slowly I made my way back down the ladder and to the couch….

3. REST

Written February 22, 202 REPOST

”Rest.” Why is this word so easy to speak to other people, yet so hard to apply to one’s own life. I have come to welcome rest….kinda. For years, God has worked on me to let go of many things and rest in HIS plan for my life-trusting the steps I may not be able to see that He is asking me to take. Rest in knowing He walks with me for each. And sometimes Rest as I let go of certain things He tells me to let go of even though I so desperately want to hold on. He has taken me through this concept over and over again and each and every time, I think “Man, I can’t rest any more than this!” But each time, He proves me wrong. 

2019 was quite a year for us. In March we followed God’s call to leave a church we had grown up in as Christians over the past five years. It was quite a transition for us as we became the “new family” at a local church and on top of that, I was close to 7 months pregnant with our fifth child. In my mind though, I was on a spiritual high, ready to take on whatever ministry challenge we felt that God was leading us into but the is word “Rest” kept coming up. 

DOT. 

For any parents out there who knows what it takes to get your over exhausted toddler to stop long enough to lay down knowing good and well if they did, they would pass out from their own sleep deprivation-well, that was me. I so badly wanted to keep going but the truth was, I was so tired-physically, emotionally and mentally. I’m not proud to say, I went kicking and screaming but I cannot deny that I too, recognized a call to rest that hit a little deeper than just stepping back from the activities I was a part of. 

Because of this, I found myself considering the idea of getting an epidural. Now PLEASE, hear me clearly- whether a woman has a C-section, an epidural or natural birth, her body is working non stop and has worked non stop for the nine months prior-there is absolutely no denying that. But, I was coming from 2 completely natural hospital deliveries and 2 completely natural (and planned) home births. So the definition for my body to rest not only took the form of slowing down physically and mentally leading up to baby but it was also to get an epidural in hopes of an “easier” labor than what I experienced in the past. Thousands of what ifs played through my head. Truth be told, I was more scared of the epidural then I was the pain of labor and delivery. 

As labor began and quickly progressed the evening of June 4th, I knew I had already decided; at 7 cm, I requested my first ever epidural. Every single thing that I knew about labor and delivery suddenly disappeared and I was walking, in what felt like, a whole new world unknown to me. Thinking about it, I still sometimes shake my head wondering why I decided to go against everything I’ve ever done in the past, but... I had come to a place of fully trusting God and I truly believed He was in control: epidural or no. And nothing else mattered.

I was pleasantly surprised by the pain free labor. They broke my water (again, something that I did not let them do for three of my children) and once they did, Dr. B left the room saying she would be back shortly. Over an hour went by before she finally made her way back into our room and our tie-breaker was born: our third boy squeaking his way into the early Wednesday morning of June 5th to make Adam’s birthday guess right. 6lbs 9oz. He. Was. Perfect. Our baby Luke…

Despite my hesitations and what ifs, labor and delivery seemed to go smoothly. But shortly after getting to my own room, the cramping in my stomach started. I was breastfeeding Luke as I did with each of my other children and with each one the cramping gradually increased, which I was told was normal. After letting the delivery doctor know (Dr. B), she recommended that I begin to take 800mg of Ibuprofen every 6 hours as often as I needed it. I was hesitant-yet another thing I don’t often do unless absolutely necessary, but, the thought crossed through my mind that I needed as much sleep I could get and feel the best I could when I took our newborn home to 4 excited new siblings who were all on a summer vacation sugar rush. So I began taking the ibuprofen and continued to each time they brought it to me. 

2. Dot to Dot

Written February 19, 2020 REPOSTED

As a kid, I remember enjoying a good ole fashion dot-to-dot from time to time. One of my favorite things to do was
to look at the page before I started connecting the dots to see if I could guess what the finished picture would be. Sometimes it would be rather simple but the more dots that laid on that page, the bigger the challenge it was to see the end result. Over the years, I have learned that our life is just like a giant dot to dot. I have come to LOVE looking back and asking God to show me His dots in my life that I may have missed that have led to one situation or another. And every time, He beautifully shows me some (not all) of those dots. This experience was no different. While I was walking the day to day during my fifth pregnancy, I did not recognize them as a dot in this story of sepsis survival. But looking back, He has shown me how He was in fact preparing me for what lay ahead. ***************************************************

“My Fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love”

We belted out in our top notch car singing voices one morning as Me and my four kiddos were heading down to visit my mom for the day.

“Peculiar.” I remembered thinking 4 hours later as the same song came through the radio within minutes of us heading back home that same day. Nonetheless, we again sang the song loud and proud.

“My fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love!”

It didn’t make sense at the time, but in the months before it seemed as if this song followed me. I turned on the radio at home, and it was on; nearly every time I got in the car it played. I heard it almost daily and sometimes twice a day. My attention was caught and my memory stored the frequency away with no real explanation. There was no reason for me to really dig deeper into why I was hearing the song so often and regardless, nothing was keeping me from belting the chorus each and every time it played:

“My fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love.”

It has been 8 months since I came home from the hospital and have since heard many people say, “that must have been so scary.” The truth is, the first three days I was in the hospital, I didn’t even think about what was actually happening. I didn’t think about how bad things were or how sick I was. I didn’t feel afraid.

As I look back, I realize that every single time the song played, I wasn’t just singing the words but I was declaring this particular statement over my life to the point my heart and mind already knew it was true and walked in complete and total agreement: I was standing in His love and fear didn’t even stand a chance to shake that….No matter what.

DOT.

Even as a kid, I sometimes couldn’t resist and halfway through the dot to dot stop and see if I could guess what the picture would be: thinking that since I had more dots connected, surely I’d be able to see it all. But that wasn’t often the case. The only way for me to truly see the finished image was line each dot up, one after the other and then look back and admire what was created.

I can now see many dots like this one that I believe God was laying down to guide me as He prepared me for what was to come. I believe that when that moment did come only a few months later; the moment that was supposed to be so scary, I in fact felt the most calm I have ever felt and His dots were the reason “scary” was not ever a word I would use to describe my experience.