Losing A Whole Year

You guys.

I don't wanna alarm you, but in a few weeks, it will be Thanksgiving.  What?  How is it November already?

Right now I'm looking up at a beautiful half moon.

And contemplating.  Because that's the beauty of post-baby-bedtime.  The luxury of thinking, feeling, being. It's peaceful, quiet, a hush falls over our home.

Last week we celebrated Halloween.  It was... beautiful and crazy.  Both things equally.

And a few weeks before that, we celebrated Arlo's first birthday.

Wonderful things.  But both of those treasured holidays signify something much deeper for our family.  Last year, Arlo's birth was the beginning of an incredibly hard season.  By Halloween last year, we were in the depths of sickness and loss across our entire family, and began a journey that spun us into New Years and beyond with Ryan's cancer diagnosis.

So. This season has a very new significance to me.  When we finally knew Ryan was cancer-free, March 28th, our 7 year wedding anniversary, it was the biggest blessing we've ever encountered.  And as the spring and summer wore on, it felt as though it was all fading away.  It was all moving further and further from our current reality.  It was the past.  We focused on tomorrow, not yesterday.

But something strange has happened over the past few weeks as we have once again moved into the season that formed us into different people last year.  Everything felt closer.  The fear of last year didn't feel further away, it felt nearer.  It felt imminent.  

The one year mark wasn't feeling like something to celebrate, instead it felt more like something to dread.  So, I've been working.  Working on making it seem further away, focusing on tomorrow. Making the past the past.

Per the Scrubs finale (season 8, cuz obvi that's the last one that counts): "It's never good to live in the past too long, as for the future, it could be whatever I wanted it to be."

But you can only make the past the past and focus on the future if you actually see what the future holds, and fear cannot play into that equation.  You have to see beyond it.  And that's impossible without Jesus.  Seeing what He has for us is what removes the fear.

Jeremiah 29:11 - For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Hope and a future.  There is no promise that it will be without troubles.  Without cancer.  Without another hard season.  In fact, in this world, it is expected that we will definitely experience life-altering pain and hardship.  But.  That is not a reason to fear when we know what is before us in the spiritual world.  Fear is worldly. Peace is not.

So, as we grapple with what this season is, what it means, and what God has for us, we will continue to believe in that verse.  He knows what His plans are for us.  They are FOR us. They are plans to PROSPER us.  They are plans NOT to harm us.  They are plans to give us HOPE and a FUTURE.

We will pray over that.  We will speak that into our family.  And as we look over the past year, and plan for the next, we will refuse to look as this as our "lost year" and instead, see it as the year that we were found.

We will choose to rest in You.  In the words of our treasured family bedtime story, "Goodnight moon".

Home

So I've been just a little bit taken with this new song: Home by Blue October

Ok.  More than a little taken.  I've prob listened to it about 500 times over the past few weeks.  And other than my clearly compulsive-listening, semi-addition to this song, you guys, you have to know how much it seriously kicks me in the heart, the head, and the soul, in the very best of ways.  Every.  Single.  Time.  If there was a song that could possibly embody what I feel and what I want right now, well, this is pretty much it.

Dancing in the kitchen in the pale moonlight
Only care in the world is that our kids are all right

Most of you know our journey over the past year.  It's been, well, a pretty wild ride.  I've tried so many times to put into words all of the thoughts, the feels, and the facts.  But try as I might, I always fail.  It always seems to fall short, my words can't seem to capture the spirit of it all.

So smile at me baby, take my breath away
With the good Lord willing, I'll be happy to say
That daddy loves momma and momma loves him

If I could summarize October through March in one word it would be "survive".  When you take the life you have for granted and almost lose it, sometimes, something really weird happens.  Though it doesn't seem logical, instead of feeling thankful, you're afraid.  Afraid that it's not over, afraid that it could happen again, and sometimes, just plain afraid of it all.

Tomorrow we get to do it over again

But if I could pick just one word for the past few months, unequivocally, it would be "revive". Because God is so, so good.  He has diligently nursed our wounds, both physical and not.  And as we've watched the spring and summer flowers blossom, fear has faded and been replaced tenfold by joy.  We never know about tomorrow, but we do have today, and that is something to truly rejoice in.

We all get to see,
Who we grow up to be

We've been taught so many things throughout the past year.  Some hard knocks, some big blessings.  But by far, what I cherish most in my heart from all of this turbulence, is the intense appreciation of our "home".  I used to think that home was a quaint little reference to a house.  Now, to me, it is so much more.  Home is my precious husband who I truly could not live without.  Home is my sweet little babes that still need me when they cry.  Home is that feeling in your heart, and your head, something that's all warm and fuzzy and fantastic, all at once.  I've never in my life felt so blessed and thankful.

I feel like I'm gonna win
And I'm as proud as I've ever been
Cause I'm surrounded with some good friends
Yeah, good friends, good friends

Our community, you guys, have been so faithful.  Almost a daily occurrence is someone telling us that they're thinking about us or praying for us or asking how we're doing.  The support we've received in every way has been astounding.  It is so strikingly beautiful, holy really, to feel carried on the prayers of those who love us.

We aim for it all
We lift of these walls
To make this house our home

So, we continue to lift up these walls, our home, our family, in prayer.  Daily.  Even moment by moment.  We live.  We're thankful.  We try not to take it for granted.  We try to remember what's important.  We know nothing is guaranteed, but we will not live in fear.

I'll smile if I want to 
I'm not afraid, gonna flaunt it too

Just Cuz You Love Me...

I've been pretty terrified about something lately.  Other than the obvious anxiety at the thought that JT is now doomed to a life of song-writing for children's movies.  No, even scarier is this trend where we as a society have begun to equalize love with the acceptance of all the choices of others.

You guys, am I the only one who is really alarmed about this?

We have quite literally come to the point where if you don't accept the choices others make than you must be a ___________ (insert a pick-your-poison awful term here).   What does that do?  I mean, seriously.  What is does is make everyone afraid.  Any normal human being anyway.  It means you're afraid to say that you don't agree with someone's choices because apparently that means that you don't love them or value them as a person.

And I am here to say this, to shout it from the rooftops: You can love and value someone and still not agree with every single thing that they choose to do.  Please hear me on this.  I am not talking about accepting someone as a person.  Because accepting someone as a person IS a part of loving them.  But it does NOT mean accepting every thing that they choose to do or be in their life.

This new mentality is actually pretty ridiculous when you think about it.  Really.  I mean, for crying out loud, do I agree with every choice my two year old makes?  Of course not.  Does it mean that I love and value him any less?  Of course not.  Obvi.  I know it sounds silly, but truly, to take this even further, would you even fully support every decision that you've ever made in the past?  Unless you're perfect (I fall short of this), probably not.

Somewhere along the line we got lost.  We forgot what love looked like.  We forgot and so we made acceptance our new "love".  Somehow acceptance of everything meant we loved each other.  But acceptance is a fickle creature, always changing.  And sure, it's attainable, but it's never sustainable. At least not truly.

You're a straight up liar if you say that you accept everyone's choices all of the time.  You don't.  No one does.  You see, the thing is, you really can't because most choices are based on opinions of what is best, and "what's best" is so incredibly individualistic, and by sheer numbers, we will never completely be on the same page, even with those we love and cherish most deeply.

And that's why this scares me so much.

If this is what we're becoming - a culture that values "acceptance" over honest love and value, well, I want no part of it.

Acceptance is easy because it takes nothing from you, a simple nod of agreement, even if the agreement is false.  But love, love is hard.  Love means you hang on and passionately pursue, it means you push on through.  Even (and especially!) if you don't always agree, or accept, the choices of others.

And if you ask me again someday later, maybe when I'm older and wiser, I bet you all that I have within me, I'd still say that's something that I'd never disagree with.

So, let's stop being afraid. Let's stop the madness.  Let's start choosing love instead of the easy way out.

Fragile. But the Grave...

Sometimes we're strong.

Sometimes we're weak.

Sometimes we're strong when we feel weak (2 Corinthians 12:10).

And sometimes we're just us.  Weak, strong, healthy, sick, and everything in between.

A little while ago Ryan had his scans done.  A three day scan to be exact.  Three days.  If that doesn't sound intense, well, I don't know what does.  Except maybe the past 4 months of our lives.  What seems like an eternity.

And yet, we live in the in-between.  Ryan's body is currently Schrödinger's cat, both riddled with cancer, and simultaneously, cancer-free.  Until scan results (and an oncologist) proves otherwise, he is both.  A conundrum.

As a wife, this does many things to your brain.  Mostly, it breaks it.

Your brain that is.  Not your spirit.  Your spirit isn't allowed to break.  It reigns strong.  It always will.  A warrior, yet still fragile.  Sometimes I wonder how the two can co-exist.

Fragile. It's such a funny word,  For me it conjures up images of weak, struggling individuals, those unable to care for their own needs, but still fighting for everything they can.  But now, I see fragments of my future knowledge.  A new reality.

Fragile now means something different.  An awareness of one's ability to be broken, capability of shattering at a moment's notice.  Regardless of age, monetary or social status, or anything related to our worldly lives.  We can all be fragile.

This is new territory for me.  Especially living in the in-between.  I like knowing.  I can deal with bad odds and cray cray.  I do well, thrive even, in the face of not great situations. I was born to live in Vegas yo, I can beat the odds any day.  But I do not do well in the midst of confusion.  The unknown throws me into a tailspin. It makes me fragile.

Everyone keeps saying how well I am doing. As if they're surprised.  I'm not insulted, I know it's not because of me, it's because I think everyone empathizes, putting themselves into that place.  The place where they imagine if their love, their world, was told they have cancer, and then they conjure up how they would react.  And that conjecture places them mentally in utter chaos, because, who wouldn't go temporarily insane if they thought their other half was in dire peril. But that isn't the case, at least not the mental state part.  Because if you go through this (which I truly hope you never do), what you realize quickly is that you don't have the freedom, the luxury, of worrying about what is going to happen.  Instead, you realize you must focus on the now.  The now of your love facing an unknown future, your home, your children, your dreams of of the next 30, 40, 50 years are currently in flux.  And that means you don't have time to collapse. You don't have time to be weak and stay in bed for five thousand hours.

You HAVE to be strong.  There is no out here.  That's not a thing.  You don't get that.  So when people say "How can you be doing so well?"  I want to explain, but I don't know how... it's not a choice, it's a necessity.

I am fragile.  Some days, everything within me feels like it will break, shatter into a million pieces, at a moment's notice.  But I am strong.  Because I choose that.

Don't get me wrong.  I am still fragile.  So is Ryan.  But we have two babies.  We have a home and responsibilities and careers.  We have family and friends. We don't have the freedom to just collapse and act like our world is over.  Even if some days we I feel like it.

And you wouldn't either, even if you feel like that's what you would do.  You wouldn't. Because you're strong too.  Stronger than you ever knew, and hopefully, you won't have to discover that anytime soon.

But mostly, we are strong when we are fragile, when we are weak, because we have courage, in a God, who we know doesn't stop fighting for us.

So, as we look to Sunday, a day of new beginnings and everlasting hope, we are renewed.  Faith in a Savior who conquered the grave.  A God who loves us, and a purpose outside of ourselves.  That is how I choose to enter this Easter season.

We trust a God bigger than it all.  No grave can hold us.  Definitely not Schrödinger's cat.

The Big C Word

Someday there will be time to blog about all of the ins and outs of having to tell my husband he has (had?) cancer.  Today is not that day.  Today is the day that we get our 'ish together and figure out a plan.  And tell you as much as we know.

So...

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Here's the skinny:
Ryn was released from the hospital late on Sunday.  He has some minor restrictions for the next couple of weeks (mainly not lift his children, who are freakin' giants [no, really, they just had their well-children checks and vaccinations, 100th percentile for height AND weight, for BOTH of them!]... Can we say modified single-parenting once again? :)) to let his body heal and regain it's strength.

The pathology came back on Ryan's tumors.  Yes, that was an S.  I really do hate pluralizing.  Two tumors.  They thought that there was only one, but alas, while medical technology is amazing, it is only so good.  They confirmed that the bigger of his two tumors was cancer, a specific kind called a carcinoid tumor.  The smaller tumor is benign and nothing to worry about.

So.  It is really good news that the cancer that they found is out of him.  It really is.  And we are SO thankful that they found this.  The word "miracle" was thrown around by our surgeon more than once, and honestly, we feel that.  We believe that.  Had Ryan 1) not had a massive GI bleed, 2) not gotten a pill cam, and 3) not had a fantastic GI specialist who pushed for answers, we would have been in a VERY different boat.  A bad boat.  One might even say a Titanic, perhaps.

But.  Always a but.  Since he had one carcinoid, his likelihood of having more is much higher. Since these tumors can be very small, they will need to do a very special scan to make sure he doesn't have any others.  We were also told that Ryan may have a blood disorder as he bleeds excessively, so that's something that they will be looking at as well.

So, our next steps include:
Searching for additional tumors, checking his blood, working with his oncologist and hematologist, and then nailing down a care plan.  Of course, with anything medical, as I'm sure you know (but I wish you didn't, because I think we all wish we didn't have this kind of experience), the plan will change as they find out more.  The simplest outcome is that they find no additional tumors and Ryan will undergo yearly scans to make sure that the cancer has not come back.  Anything besides that is obviously going to require a more intense plan.

                                                                                ----------

And that's where we are.  It's scary.  And hard.  And we are so thankful, but still anxious.  Thanxious?  Is that a word?  Well, it is now.  We know that things could have been MUCH worse.  But, we also know that we may have a long walk with the big C ahead of us.

We have been SO blessed by everyone's prayers and offers to help.  You guys, I literally cannot tell you how much it has touched our hearts.  For real.  I read Ryan everything I get, and vice-versa, and it all helps.  Every single little text or message or voicemail.  It's almost silly, really, because before being in this situation I was always the person who downplayed my own voice.  I'd think, "Who am I?  They don't care if I'm praying for them - I'll pray, but I don't need to tell them".  OMG.  So wrong was I.  Power for the course I guess :)  So, just know, I mean really, REALLY, if I haven't already said it to you personally, thank you so very much.

People keep asking how to pray, which is basically for everything.  But, if I had to break it down, it's pretty much this... Pray that:

• Ryan is healing well, is SUPER healthy, and that they find NO more cancer
• Our doctors have definitive answers and a good care plan
• We would continue to raise our boys with a strong trust in a God who loves them, takes care of us, and doesn't leave us alone when we're suffering  

Again, HUGE props to our fam who have gone above and beyond to support, love, and take care of our kiddos during Ry's surgery!  

We will never cease giving thanks.  Every moment, we will be thankful for a God who fights for us. And thankful for each one of you.  

Much love from us, and hopefully, much more boring updates in the future...

39 Days - Ryan's Story

Well hello there!

I've sat down to write this about a million times, but with two kiddos and lots of craziness, this has continued to get the boot on the list of priorities. But.  I keep getting asked the same questions, and while I typically shy away from using this blog as an information source, this seems like a more efficient way of telling everyone the same information all at once instead of repeating myself over and over (although, I do have a toddler, so the whole repeating myself a bazillion times is kinda my jam...).

So here goes.

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A Recap:
39 days ago Ryan had a massive GI bleed and was hospitalized for 5 days.  It was very serious and had we not lived so close to a hospital (among other things, like me still being home on maternity leave, Ryan being home early on a work day for an appointment, us being able to leave at a moments notice, etc.) he probably would not have made it.  He underwent several tests while there, but they were unable to find where the bleed originated from.

They sent us home once he was stabilized with several restrictions and a list of other outpatient tests and procedures that needed to be done.  Each test and procedure has required major restrictions, been pretty miserable in general, has meant no eating for at least a day or two if not more, and having every single particle of pretty much anything flushed out of his body. Super fun.  And, while a very effective weightloss plan, neither Ryan or I would endorse losing a few pounds this way.  Stick with Weight Watchers.  Trust me.

Since they didn't know what caused the bleed there was no way to fix it, so there was a high likelihood that it could happen again at any time.  Because of that, Ryan hasn't been able to eat or drink a lot of things that could cause issues (i.e. no alcohol, blood thinners, chinese food [just FYI, no chinese is pretty much the worst punishment you can give someone, I want to be very clear about that], etc.).  We've also been required to be near a hospital at all times.  And just in case all of this wasn't stressful and super sad enough as it is, we had to cancel our vacation to Mexico that we'd been planning for 3 years... Insert mini pity party here ________.  Okaaaaaaaaay, and done.

What We Know Now:
Through the course of testing we've found that Ryan has a small tumor in his small intestine. Because they haven't been able to get to it, they do not know if it's malignant (bad) or benign (not bad).  The tumor ulcerated and is what caused the bleed over New Years.

Next Steps:
Ryan will be undergoing major surgery on Thursday to remove the tumor.  They will be doing what's called a "resection", taking a "small" section of his small intestines out (about 5 to 6 inches) and then reattaching each end.  They will then test the tumor and surrounding tissue to see if it's benign or malignant.  It will take about a week to get the test results.  Once we know what type of tumor it is we'll be able to determine what next steps are.

Depending on how invasive the surgery has to be, Ryan's hospital stay will be anywhere between 3 to 7 days, and longer if he has any complications.  He will have some restrictions for at least the first 4 weeks after surgery, but we're hopeful that we are on our way toward healing for his body.

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So, that's where we're at.  It's been a loooooooong 39 days.  Full of tests and migraines, hunger and medications, tears and frustration, and we are exhausted both emotionally and physically.

But. God is still good. And we trust His hands are on Ryan, and our family.  We know He is in control, and when fear has tried to fight it's way in, His peace has filled our hearts.

We have received really great care from all of the GI specialists and surgical teams that we've worked with, and we are hopeful that this surgery will be the end of what has seemed like a very long road.  Our friends and family have been an incredible support system and have helped us in countless ways.  Truly, we could not have made it through all of this without them.

Even in the midst of all of this, we have SO much to be thankful for!

And it just has to be said: Ryan has been a freakin' trooper throughout all of this.  He has suffered through a LOT of stuff over the last several weeks and I seriously haven't heard him complain once.  Not including all of his other misery, his New Years was spent in a hospital, his birthday was spent going through another frustrating and painful procedure, his Valentine's day will be spent once again in a hospital, and his Mexican vacation was taken away.  And not a single complaint.  You guys.  This man is my hero, for real. I've never been prouder to call him my hubs. In sickness and health is no joke yo, but lemme tell you, I wouldn't have it any other way... Being by this man's side is the only place that I want to be.

Alright.  That's pretty much it.  If you have questions hit me up, but I will plan to update via blog after the surgery once we have the results of the tests and what our next steps are.

We would love your prayers...  Forever blessed by you all!

Remember that one time when we spent New Years in the hospital...

Ryan and I had to laugh when, over Christmas, Axel got the stomach flu. Again. Making it two years in a row that our holidays have been pretty much ruined by icky sickness.  At one point during the day (probably while cleaning up puke or poop, or maybe both), I looked over at Ryn and said (somewhat) kiddingly "F@#% Christmas!"   Excuse the french, I know I know, super irreverent, and of course I didn't mean screw the reason for the season, celebrating the birth of Jesus.  I just meant, screw all of the not so great stuff that this year has brought.  Screw the fact that we weren't able to enjoy just one holiday without some major crisis or illness.  Screw all of the excitement building toward a celebration that we weren't able to have in the way that we wanted to have it.

That was Christmas.

And then there was New Years...

Just 10 short weeks ago I sat in the hospital and blogged about being there with Arlo and how important it was to remember that some people are there for much more serious reasons than we were, and to lift those people up in prayer.

Since earlier this week, we've been those people at the hospital for more serious reasons.  Weirdly prophetic I guess.

Out of nowhere on Wednesday, Ryan started to have a massive GI bleed.  Not going to get into too many details in good ol' bloggerville, not really the place or space for that sorta medical mumbo-jumbo, but the long and the short of it is that it involved lots of blood and was extremely scary.

So, five days later, here we are, still at the hospital, but (Thank God!) waiting to be released.

But as I sat here on New Years Day, waiting for more tests and procedures and all sorts of fun medical crap, I kept thinking.  I thought about all of the people here and how terrible it is to spend a holiday that celebrates new beginnings in a place where there is so much pain, and sickness, and, well, endings.  And then I thought about all of the people not in this place and how they're probably celebrating, and laughing, and eating and drinking, and how we were not doing any of that.  And also how I'd been wearing the same shirt for 3 or 4 days.  Gross.  Then I'd have a 10 second pity party for us.

And I wanted to say "F@#% New Years!"

You know why?  Screw the idea that one day is some sort of magical restart button that will fix all of our problems.  Screw being sick and discouraged and wanting some answers.  Screw the fear that just because we were spending the start of this new year in a hospital that the rest of the year was gonna suck.  Screw all of that icky bad stuff.

Okay, so after that I got my head on straight.  Instead of letting a crappy holiday begin our year, we're going to look at it like this:  New Years was just a day, like any other.  Yeah, it's 2016.  So what?  We're going to take each day and move through it with the knowledge that God is in control, we're going to make wise decisions, and most importantly, we're going to focus on how thankful we are for our seriously incredible friends and family who have literally and figuratively carried us through the past five days.  Because, you guys, oh man, we have so much to be thankful for.  Instead of 10 second pity parties about how much things have sucked recently, we're focusing on all of the amazing things we're being blessed with. Our kids are being cared for and loved on, and we are able to focus solely on getting Ryan better.  We have health insurance and jobs to help pay for medical bills.  And we had a great medical team working hard to figure out what was going on with Ryan.

So you know what I don't say?  Well I'll tell you what, I don't say "F@#% 2016".  Because I may not believe in a magical day that somehow makes everything fresh and new, but I do absolutely believe in hope for the future. And I also believe in a God that heals, and restores, and loves us so VERY much.  We are praying and believing for a freakin' spectacular year.  With no hospitals.

So, cheers to 2016 (and hopefully soon a clean shirt).  And when I say cheers what I really mean is we're still stuck in a hospital and went to bed at 8:30 on New Years Eve sans any champagne or celebratory drink besides chicken broth.  So please cheers a little extra for us! :)