Part 5: A Journey I Never Wanted

Today was an overall success. John breathed on his own for 2 hours, through his trach, and his oxygen levels stayed great. His artery IV was removed as they don't see a need for it anymore! So yay!!

And then I stupidly get on social media, and I see everyone taking their babies to the pumpkin patches...and then these things that made today good disappear. 

October is my favorite month. Not because it's my birthday month. But because it's beautiful. Who doesn't love October? 

Crunchy leaves.

Apple donuts.

Pumpkin patches.

Corn mazes.

Vibrant colors.

Sweater weather.

I had dreams of taking John to pick out his first pumpkin. We'd paint it together. He'd try his first apple cider donut. He'd pick his first apple off a tree. He'd ride a hay ride. 

I know the Bible promises to restore what was lost. I'm holding on to that. But how can this be restored? I will never ever get this time, this age, this stage of life with John back. I guess there are things I will just never understand. 

Life keeps turning for the world. But my world stopped turning. And it won't turn until this is over. 

Part 4: A Journey I Never Wanted

Good news, good news at last.

95% of the tumor was taken out during surgery. That's almost a complete resection.

His catheter was removed.

His breathing tube was removed.

He will be getting food through his ng tube tonight, finally. It's all I can think about, is how he hasn't nursed since before surgery...even longer for solid foods. 

Tomorrow they hope to take out the drain on top of his head. 

His tubes are getting less and less.

The nurse tonight said that he's been taken off his continuous pain medication drip because he cannot be transferred to a regular room if he isn't off it. So they're even talking about getting us out of the PICU. 

Steps are being taken, steps in the right direction. 

Coast to coast, friends, family, and family we don't know yet are lifting John up in prayer...it's working. God is moving in huge ways. 

People are sending gifts, even donating their own hard earned money to us for expenses. 

We are just blown away. We are speechless by God's faithfulness and the generosity we are being shown.

Today was a good day. 

A good day at last.

Part 3: A Journey I Never Wanted

11 hours and 24 minutes

That's how long the surgery lasted. I got to sit in the sunshine...not for too long, my ivory skin only needs about 3 minutes before I start to cook.

I talked with the financial counselor.

I shared the burden with family.

I ate mediocre cafeteria food.

Every hour, there was a text saying they were still working.

The surgeon finally came in, exhausted and rubbing her hands. 11 hours and 24 minutes, I'm sure they were cramping something fierce. 

They got 90% of the tumor.

Looks like an ependymoma. Usually benign. Usually recurring.

Chemo or radiation.

MRI tomorrow.

Then we waited for John to come. We waited for another eternity. Then the chaos came.

Tubes, tubes, tubes. Dried blood everywhere. I could only see the top of his head with that big bandage and the drain.

We waited for them to be done, so we could stand next to our baby. It took another short forever. 

Finally, I was summoned to come see him. So pale, so tiny, so much dried blood. Ink on his forehead. Breathing tube in his mouth, along with another tube. So many numbers on the screen. Beep, beep, beep, that dreaded noise from the NICU.

Too high of blood pressure.

He was fighting to wake up, more sedation required. Waving his little arms and legs. Scrunching his eyes.

My little fighter.

Stable through the night.

They need him to cough before they can insert a feeding tube.

He needs food. He needs his strength.

Waiting on MRI. 

The PICU is full...patients are being turned away. Where would we have gone...

This isn't supposed be happening, but it is.

One day at a time.

Day 2: A Journey I Never Wanted

My baby boy had an MRI today. He was sedated and intubated. Less than 2 years old, and he's been intubated...

When the nurses wheels him back in that big metal crib, his tiny body was wrapped in the scratchy hospital baby blankets. They were warm at least. He opened his big blue eyes, and found mine. He started to stir, and he made little croaks as he woke up. He rolled over and stood up...he hasn't done that in a while. He took a lunging step to me. And he was back in my arms. We were told not to feed him anything until we'd heard word from the staff.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After a few hours, we finally got the clear to nurse him. It gave him some immediate relief, thank goodness.

Then we waited for several more hours. 

Two women in green scrubs came in, and said they could give us a sort of plan going forward. Surgery tomorrow. We already knew that.

I looked at one of the pediatricians, and said how I was looking at all the hours of waiting as a plus. Usually bad news comes fast. She had a weird look in her eye, and said we have a long road ahead of us.

I hate that phrase.

We waited some more.

Finally another green scrubs came in with a set of blue scrubs. This was it.

Green scrubs spoke in a hushed voice. He asked if he could sit down. The air left my lungs. Sitting down is never good. 

He asked me to retell the tale of how we came to be here. I told him. He took a breath.

Most likely cancerous.

High grade.

Can be life threatening.

Chemotherapy.

Another stomach punch. Another thing that isn't supposed to happen. We aren't supposed to be here.

After a blurry eyed, nodding head, questions with no answers conversation...we awaited the neurosurgeon.

She came a few hours later.

Common location.

Attached to spinal cord.

Can't get it all.

Drain.

Shunt.

Treatments to follow.

Possible second surgery.

Long. Road. Ahead.

And everyone keeps asking:

"Can I get you anything?"

"Are you okay?"

"What do you need?"

All well intended and well received. 

My thoughts are as choppy as the paragraphs on this page. 

I feel akin to Job.

We haven't even been married 5 years yet...

Long distance relationship over an ocean.

2 moves, 1 across country.

Deployments.

3 months of zero contact.

1 emergency c section

1 NICU stay

Unexpectedly pregnant with baby #2 (ha, now I'm gonna see who actually reads my blog)

Stressful career change

Exiting the military 

Half way across country move

Life flighted with my baby

And now....our baby is having brain surgery tomorrow.

This has to be a dream?? Please be a dream...

Despite it all...I choose to move forward. Despite every pound of my flesh screaming the opposite, I choose to trust the Lord and His promises. 

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you, not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope."

I'm speaking that over John tonight as I nurse by baby for the last time in possibly quite a while.

As I hold him close for possibly the last time in a while. He is going to have a lot more tubes in him and medical equipment surrounding him. 

God...I don't know how I'm going to get through this. But somehow, I will. I trust you to get my family through this.

A Journey I Never Wanted

Today my worst nightmare came true. Any momma's worst nightmare.

My son, my precious, energetic baby...has a brain tumor.

I still have to exhale when I say it, type it, think it...

I can't go into the details right now. I just have to get my thoughts out because my journal is a thousand miles away.

I'm staring at his precious little hand, invaded by an IV. Steroids being pumped into his body to keep the swelling down. Blood pressure cuff, oxygen monitor, wires attached to his tummy...I know this road too well after the NICU. And here we are in the PICU. I thought we'd done our time.

I can't keep scrolling, seeing all these people just going about their daily lives with their healthy babies when mine just turnd upside down. The worst case scenario happened.

But...

God is not done.

I have to believe that.

He will show up. He will heal my son. This isn't over.

MRI tomorrow. Sedation. Intubation. Another tube shoved down his throat that's supposed to be saying my name...

Day 1 of this journey I never wanted to take.

Italian Leather Dreams

For the passed few months, I've been casually shopping around for a new couch. It was more dreaming than anything else. Inflation has really affected everything, so I wasn't serious about making a new purchase. I am a huge thrifter as well; purchasing second hand can be even better than brand new. I love getting things with a past. Well the trouble with buying bigger items second hand, is you often have to have a way to transport it, which we do not have. So again, it's more dreaming than anything else...til it wasn't!

Early in the week, on Facebook market place, I spotted my actual dream couch. A sectional in burnt orange Italian leather. If I had drawn my dream couch, it would have been exactly what was listed. It was listed hours ago. I stared at my screen, and sighed thinking wistfully how lucky the person would be to buy this. The price under a grand. Italian leather for under a grand!? Gasp!! HE IS WILLING TO DELIVER!? I shut my screen off and pushed my phone away. Temptation was too strong. 

The next morning I opened my phone and went to the listing, sure it was going to be marked as sold. It was not. I opened messenger to send the seller a message. I asked him if he was looking to trade, and offered my sofa and loveseat. I knew it was a long shot, but the worst he could say is no. He did say no, of course, but very very kindly. 

I screenshotted the listing to my husband, saying how gorgeous this couch was. He agreed, yep sure is nice. I nudged a little more. He challenged me, that if I could get half the money together myself, we could get it. 

So I messaged the seller, and he said he would be in my corner cheering for me. He even said he would tell me if he got other offers to make sure I got the first chance to buy it. 

Now...if you're anything like my parents, I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Alyssa, why didn't you make an offer for a lower price?". Well, I am not stranger to selling things. I've picked up quite a knack for it actually! I pride myself on being reasonable and giving people a good deal. And one thing that irks the heck out of me is when I have something listed for a VERY reasonable price, and someone offers me less. I'm talking, I've listed books for sale for $1 each, and someone asking if I would take 50 cents instead...So this couch was listed at an unbelievable price, well below what it's worth. This man deserves the price he is asking. 

Continuing on, I accepted the challenge. I started listing things left and right. Some sacrifices were made, things I would have loved to have kept but we didn't truly need were sold. I prayed for favor over this. As silly as that may sound. I talk to God like a friend; I tell Him everything. Including all the sweet deals I find >_<

Well friends, to make a long story short, I not only sold enough for half...I sold enough to have the full amount. We sold our couch last minute as well because I was a little concerned with trying to cram the new couch in here while the old couch was still here. But nope. God took care of every last detail. And now I have my dream couch, and it is even better than I imagined. God cares about our desires. Even the ones as superficial as getting an Italian leather couch. 

Forever Hopeful

Friendship has always been a sore subject for me. Kind of unusual, I know. I'll explain by briefly taking you through my history of friendship. 

Early childhood, my best friend of many years "BB" moved away. Time took its course, and the sweet blossom of our friendship withered. 

Late childhood into teenager years, my best friend "E" moved. But we actually weathered the storm of distance and maintained our best friend status until the recent years.

Sophomore year of high school, my kindred spirit friend "H"  whom I had known since 4 years of age decided literally over night she no longer wanted anything to do with me. Her reason when I begged her to know why was that I had changed, although she refused to elaborate on that.

My most recent happenings are thanks to the military. Sweet friends have been distanced thanks to cross country moves or PCS'ing. History does indeed repeat itself. 

I know this seems like a giant pity party, and maybe it is...I was scrolling on Instagram, and I came across a video montage that one girl had made of her best friend. I watched their silly moments in flashes, many years of closeness squished into a minute long video. But the message was clear: they treasure each other. My heart just ached a little. While I have been SO blessed by the friendships I've gotten to experience...I am forever praying for a God given sisterhood that lasts the tests of the world and doesn't have distance and time zones. I've been praying for that for as long as I can remember. I will never stop hoping.

Say It

I've always considered myself a friendly person. My mom always said to me, "show yourself friendly", and I took it right to heart. I've been a lot of things in life, more than a couple of those are negative, but one thing I've never ever been is a mean girl. 

Well a few years ago, God pressed upon my heart a sort of creed. If you think something nice about someone, say it. Tell them. It may be the silliest thing that makes me feel like a creeper. It might be something meaningful. But literally if I think something kind about someone, I try my best to make it a point to find them and tell them. Back when we lived in Quantico, I was at the super-fancy grocery store, and I saw this girl shopping and she had on jeans that well...they just complimented her VERY well! I wasn't going to say anything, because hi that is awkward!!! But I just felt the need to tell her. So I sidled up to her, and said, "excuse me, this may sound awkward and I am not trying to be weird but i just want to say those jeans fit you so well and make your booty pop!!" I wanted to die. But!!!!! Her face lit up. She looked like it was the absolute best thing anyone has ever said to her. She blushed and struck a pose and thanked me about 5 times as I continued down the snack aisle. Since then...I just say it. I've never had anyone say "I don't appreciate you telling me that".

Yesterday evening, for example, we were at a local pool party, and I saw a sweet young momma with a young child and an itty bitty baby, about 3 months old. And I'm telling y'all, she looked INCREDIBLE! I was like there is NO way this lady just had a baby!!! Well, it just so happened I sat next to her on the pool edge as the little ones played, and we made small talk. I just heard that little voice: say it. So I did. I told her how amazing she looked and I could really tell it made her happy! Today, at our local indoor park, another momma had a gorgeous head of hair, so guess what I did? I told her! She looked like she wanted to cry; she genuinely looked shocked. She started to fight the compliment, as so many of us do. But I insisted, her hair was stunning. She just smiled and quietly said thank you, while absent mindedly touching her hair. 

Friends, I'm telling you, if you ever think something nice about a stranger...please tell them! They may just shrug and say thanks and carry on. But to some it may be the first nice thing anyone has said to them in a long time. 

Just say it! 

The First Night

It happened.

The last few nights...well weeks actually...have been pretty sleepless in the Dunn household. It is totally normal with a 1 year old!! We have been a bed sharing family, and it's worked for us. Joe and I have a full sized bed, which is pretty abnormal come to find out. Most of y'all are rockin' at least a queen! What can I say, we like to snuggle! Like I said, it's worked for us. 

But as John grows, he is getting very "tossy turny" in his sleep. It's not unusual for me to hear Joe say "OUCH" in the middle of the night as a tiny fist collides with his eye. I can't count the times I've been clawed as John searches for a comfortable position between us. He's a hot sleeper too, so he kicks the covers off, leaving Joe and I shivering. It's a hoot of a time! >_<

Well, last night, Joe and I both decided a new step was needed. I decided to try something I swore I would NEVER try. I decided to just see what would happen if I didn't rush to my baby's side in his crib immediately when he started to cry. Honestly, I can't believe I've even typed it out! I picked a time limit of 5 minutes. If he cried more than 5 minutes, I would go to him and nurse him back to sleep. 

I stared at the baby monitor. He laid there so peacefully, breathing in and out, in and out. I held my breath, willing him to stay asleep so he never felt a moment of panic. I began to doze off myself. Sleep found me, but not for long. 

The monitor echoed tiny little huffs that turned to squeaks that turned to a cry. It took every fiber in my being to not spring to his side, but I got a quiet whisper from Jesus "its okay, just wait". About 45 seconds later...John settled. He went back out like a light. 

I stared incredulously. Did that really happen? I slowly got back under the covers. I checked the monitor. Sound asleep. I closed my eyes. Opened them. Checked the monitor. Asleep. Not moving an inch, not a wiggle even. Sleep found me again. 

The same exact thing happened a few more times. Once I did honor the time limit and I went to nurse him to sleep. I snuck back out with no difficulty. But y'all...I was just flabbergasted! 45 seconds it took for John to just settle himself back in. A few times he'd wake, sit up, look around, fluff his blankie around, and plop back down! It was actually amazing to watch!! It gave me so much comfort to see him find peace in his own room.

But now, I'm laying here, wide awake, alone, and way passed our usual morning wake up time. John is STILL asleep!!! I miss him, and want to see his happy smile so much, but I won't...Apparently he needed deep sleep as much as Joe and I did! 

Who knows what tonight will bring, but wow...I just needed to document this actually happened. I know the "cry it out" method is deemed pretty harsh, even still I don't like the method. But if you're struggling to sleep with your toddler...maybe just give them a minute or two to try and settle before you go to them? Maybe sleep will find you all again! 

And now...well now I guess I'm going to go sit by John's door until he wakes up ^_^

Inches Away

Being a momma is a dream come true. Literally. All my life, when someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I answered a wife and momma. Now, I'm living that dream! In fact, my sweet baby is curled up in my arms, sound asleep as I type this. My heart is full of thanksgiving!

But also...

There is a piece of quiet longing too. I promised to keep it real with y'all. The pretty and the ugly. 

Here is the ugly:

In this moment, I really miss being a wife to my husband. He isn't gone. He is just at work. But I feel like I haven't seen him in quite a while. This stems from bed sharing with John. Yes, we do that. Gasp. When we brought John home, he slept in his bassinet. It worked well, keeping him beside our bed. But as he began to cluster feed, I grew so exhausted during those million little middle of the night feeds. I almost dropped John once, and so I began to lay down while nursing him. Then it just became second nature to just sleep beside him. I got SO much more sleep that way! 

Then Joe deployed, and it seemed pointless to put John in a crib. He would be sharing a room with me while we stayed at my parents' house, so we continued to bed share. Plus it was nice getting to snuggle with my baby boy; it made the nights less lonely. But then deployment ended, thank goodness!! And now, we are trying to get John to transition to the crib, and man...it is a struggle. 

Last night after a few failed attempts, I carried John into Joe's and my bedroom. Joe smiled a soft smile and pulled back the covers. John went right to sleep. I looked at my sweet husband and said "I miss you" even though he was inches away. 

I just miss the quiet moments of only him and I. My love language is quality time, and we are sorely lacking in that department. I don't trust anyone to babysit John, other than family (all 20+ hours away), so there's nothing to be done really. We just keep telling each other that this season is short, and we will get through it. I will probably even miss it someday. 

But marriage is so sacred. I never want to lose sight of that. Before we made John, there was Joe and me. Us two, together. I never want to lose us. I think a lot of marriages lose that. They let the entity of their marriage be their kids. And once the kids are grown, then what? I want us to always be us. 

So while I soak in these sweet snuggles and bask in being John's world 24/7...I do miss that amazing season of Joe and I ending each day curled up together, dreaming of the future. I think that's okay...it doesn't mean I don't treasure the present. I guess the future you quietly whisper about with your love could be moments away, and you never even realize it. Cherish every single moment of life, friends.

Choking Hazard...More Like Mental Breakdown Hazard

You know when you go to the toy section, and you see that same label on the vast majority of them? Choking hazard! It's a valid, legitimate concern. But I think those toys should come with a different, seperate label just for the stay at home moms, or moms with OCD. 

WARNING: Small parts are in this toy. They may possibly roll under furniture, blend in with area rugs, or find a new home in the weirdest places that you swear the toy was never even near. Small parts have been known to cause the following: eye twitches, hysterical laughter followed by tears, insomnia from imagining where the heck the toy part could be, frightened husbands as they watch their wife tear through the house like a furious cyclone, terrified victims (usually a husband or possibly older child) forced to take part in this unwanted scavenger hunt for an impossibly small part, and in very very severe cases...stress eating that may induce raging diarrhea. Please proceed with your purchase with caution. 

That's a warning label I would appreciate.

The Dunn household is still harboring a bug of some kind. John has a runny nose and wet cough. I'm still devouring cough drops, hot tea, and Dayquil. Sleep has skipped our house for the last 7 days. So our mental fortitude was not up to par, lets say. 

Last night, after an unsuccessful attempt to get John down in his crib, I trudged down the stairs to let John play a little more. I had hopes it would wear him out enough for all of us to get some much needed sleep. Usually, John goes down right after bath time, and this allows Joe and I to spend quality time together before we go to bed. As he played, I began to absent mindedly pick up the smaller toys in preparation for when John was ready to go to sleep. We have these so fun yet so annoying stacking cups from Mushie (a baby product company). We actually have two stacking cup sets. One is incomplete thanks to a certain Beagle eating the smallest cup. I do not have OCD, for the record, but I do have a need for organization, tidyness, and completeness. So I ordered a 2nd set. It does not make sense to you, I know, but in my brain, this was the solution. Well, the cups tend to disappear. It drives me absolutely nuts, to where I have actually placed cut pool noodles under my furniture to keep them from rolling under them. Last night, all the cups were found, and I proudly placed them in a bin. I moved my sights on to a little plastic dinosaur with removable spikes on his back. It's supposed to teach dexterity and hand/eye coordination, or something like that. There are 12 spikes, three yellow, three orange, and three blue. I counted them off...

Three, three, and...two. Two blue.

I felt something pop.

Where is the third blue spike?

Where

Is

The

Blue

Spike

I asked Joe, casually, "baby, have you seen the blue spike anywhere?"

"Nope, I am sure it will pop up somewhere."

Ha

Hahahaha

Hahahahahhaha

It did not pop up.

The search started off calmly, and then became a violent, very personal man hunt. Spike hunt. We moved furniture, pool noodles and all, checked the bathroom, coat closet, laundry room, under the stove, outside, in the pantry...and that stupid little blue spike was nowhere to be found. My hair was wet from a shower when we started the search, and it was a dry poofy mane in about 3 minutes from running around like a headless chicken.

After searching every inch of the downstairs, I turned to say something to Joe. But all I saw was the pure exhaustion on his face--he's been amazing during this awful week--and the crazy evaporated from my system. I told him to just give up the search. Let's watch the new epsisode of our show while I nurse John to sleep. And that is just what we did. 

But the next morning...

It returned.

The crazy. The eye twitching, cannot rest until my foe is vanquished, rearrange the whole house crazy.

Victory was mine. Despite me looking three times...it was in the bottom of a basket. I immediately texted Joe this picture:

Sweeeeeeeet victory.

I'm sure I won't lose it again for at least 5 hours! 

Mommunity

Vaccines!!

Did that get your attention? It seems to be a tad on the touchy side for topics to talk about at brunch nowadays.  Figured it was worth a shot. 

But really! I am going to talk a little about vaccines, and reveal my own personal beliefs about them gasp! See, I took my one year old, John, to the pediatrician for his one year check up. To my immense displeasure, he was to receive four, count 'em, FOUR shots. He is up to date on all his vaccines (minus a flu shot because I don't even get the flu shot...so how can I expect him to get it?! I'm a fair mom, okay?). But you know what...I totally and completely understand antivax moms.

Did you read it? I. Get. It.

At this stage in his life, John is already terrified, I mean truly scared to death, of anyone in scrubs. If you take your lunch break from your receptionist job at the dermatology office, and you happen to go to the same restaurant we go to...if he sees you, expect a full on melt down. It's so so so sad. But who can blame him? So many kids suffer from medical anxiety, and why wouldn't they?!

John has been poked and prodded since he was BORN. Many of you know John's birth story. If you don't, John spent some time in the NICU. It was a horrid time in his and mine and Joe's life. Many of you may have gone through or know someone who has gone through a NICU journey. 

Anyways, the poking with needles has only gotten worse since he left the NICU. Every freakin' visit, it's something else. I feel guilt just tearing through me every time his preciously soft skin is pierced with a needle "for his own good". Okay, but is it??? He got four shots. And then the pediatrician, who really is a nice man, but darn him, he handed me a lab slip. I asked him what it was for, and he said that it is ROUTINE now to check for anemia at 1 and 2 years old. I asked if it was a heel stick, and he said that he wished it was. But it was to be a traditional blood draw.

Excuuuuuse me?

When I walked into that office, I didn't have a care or worry about John... I left with the fear of "Dear Lord, does he have anemia?" To answer my own question, he does not. He's never shown a single sign of it. As I consoled my screaming baby from the pain of getting 4 needles jabbed into his limbs, I felt so nauseous. Our visit ended, I checked out, and got him in the car seat. And then it hit me. 

I can say....no. 

Simple as that. I can say no. To anything in John's life! Until he is old enough and able to say no himself, I get to do that for him. I ripped up the lab slip. I will NOT subject my baby boy to the trauma of a blood draw. Heck, I didn't get my first blood draw til I was 26 years old. I thought more about my right to say no, and guilt flooded my heart. I could have been saying no this whole time. Even in the NICU, I could have said no to certain things that I now know were not necessary. 

Talk about a gut punch. And the gut punches kept on coming.

John got soooo sick from those shots. My little boy hadn't been sick a day in his life, not one fever...and then bam. Fever, inconsolable crying, nonstop nursing...those 48 hours were the longest of my life. Watching him be so uncomfortable was a nightmare! He just looked at me through tears, whimpering, I knew what he was trying to say to me. He wanted me to make it stop. And I couldn't, I just didn't have that power. But luckily, Jesus does and He saw John and me and Joe through it. But wow...I hope we never ever have a sick kid again!! (I hear the chorus of guffaws, no need to tell me)

And now...I am coming down with something myself. A friend online said to me, "Moms should not be allowed to get sick." Immunity...mommunity. And I think mommunity branches to more than just moms not being allowed to get sick. For instance, I wish we had that mommunity on a sign that all moms can carry, so that when we go to the doctor, they know to present things as questions. That would make it so much easier! Think, if doctors asked: "Okay, so today, how do you feel about getting the chicken pox vaccine, the MMR vaccine, the flu vaccine today? It would be three separate shots." That would give me a moment to think, to ask questions and then know, its a question, so I need to answer yes or no. It's presented as "this is what we are doing today". For those of us with a little bit softer voices, sometimes we get overwhelmed with authoritative speech. 

But I know now; I just need to remember. Maybe someone reading this needed a reminder. It's not just for moms either! You can say NO to anything in your life!!! How freeing is that? I may just say no to him going to the doctor at 15 months. When did we start going to the doctor for being perfectly healthy? That's a whole other tangent, but good grief. I took a healthy thriving boy to the doctor, and we left with a boy who felt sick. Make it make sense!!! 

It's tricky, because I do see the value in vaccines. But why so young? Why so many all at once and spaced so close together? It makes me want to create John's own unique vaccine schedule. Do people do that? 

So to wrap this messy, emotional post in a bow...

Remember your mommunity, all you mommas out there! Our babes rely on us to say yes and no for them until they can say it themselves.

When Personality Types Emerge

Like so many mommas with their babies, John and I have our own little routine. Of course, it can vary day to day, but we fit our necessities in each day. One of those necessities, especially since it's summer, is a trip to the playground. John is now at that fun age where he can toddle around on his own, exploring every nook and cranny he can reach. We live directly across the street from the park, so its an easy walk to it. 

Well a few days ago, John and I made our way over to the playground a little later than we normally do. Sleep has been evading our household lately (thanks teeth!). I noticed another stroller parked at "our" end of the playground, and I was honestly just not in the mood to socialize. So John and I headed to the opposite side of the playground. We climbed up the stairs of the jungle gym, and John began to explore his surroundings. 

Suddenly, a pink and blonde blur darted towards us. A polka dotted bow and watermelon romper waddled her way up towards us. Her mom shyly followed, saying her apologies. 

"She is just obsessed with babies, anytime she sees one she has to go say hi," she almost groaned. Maybe this momma wasn't in the mood to socialize either ^_^ I laughed and welcomed her and the little girl up. The girl was just a tiny bit bigger than John, and had a sunny disposition. She got about 1 inch from John's face, and said, "HI HI HIIIIII!" I just had to laugh, "well don't you just have a little extrovert!" As I said this, John pancakes himself to my body and curled his fists around my shirt...and started shaking his head "no". Well...looks like I have quite the little introvert! 

The little watermelon girl, then ran to her momma, and started dragging her up the stairs, babbling something sweet. Her mom threw her head back, "I do not need to see them!!" I asked her "oh boy, what does she want to show you?" The mom turned a deep shade of red (we've all been there!), and quietly said "his toes". And sure enough, a little pink body then slammed tummy down onto the ground, put her face directly John's feet, pointed a chubby finger, and said "TOE!" 

I think I see a lot of pedicures in this girl's future ;) 

John curled his feet up and tucked then securely under him. Eyebrows scrunched, he looked at me. Momma...what is this? I don't know, bubby, you just gotta roll with it. If your future wife is anything like me (hi Dr. Pimple Popper fans?), your gonna be poked and prodded like this for most of your adult life!! Get used to it now!

The little girl then proceeded to gently tug on John's arm and say "go" as she tried to guide him up towards the big big big slide. 

Go go go!

John just shook his head no no no! 

I could see he was getting overwhelmed, so I gracefully bowed out and thanked them for a nice playtime. John huffed as we walked away, as if to say, I don't know what that was...but I don't want to do it again.

For now, I'll enjoy the fact that his comfort is me. I'll enjoy him clinging so tightly to my chest and arms whenever any stranger approaches, because I know it won't last. But I sure will enjoy someday telling him the story of the extroverted watermelon blondie who loved his toes.

 

When the Going Gets Tough: My Story Part 7

**Just a reminder that all the names in my blog except for Joe's have been changed to respect their identities**

I met with Deandra at a local mexican restaurant. We seemed to click immediately; the conversation just flowed between us. It didnt take long before we agreed this was the perfect situation for us both. I would move in on an agreed upon date. I was a little nervous because she didn't offer to show me the house before moving in, but I was just desperate to get my own place. I went back to Shelby's confident and so happy to be telling them I had a date for moving out of their home. The husband was absolutely happy to see me go, I could see the relief on his face as soon as I announced I had found a place!

Soon, the date arrived for me to move in. Deandra already had a bed and a dresser for me, which just made this deal that much sweeter. It was a cute little 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom home. The bathroom I'd be using was a guest bathroom, but since it was just us 2, it was all mine! That first night's sleep was the best I'd had in ages. I had a home of my very own. 

There wasn't an official lease. Just a typed piece of paper stating my rent amount and my refundable security deposit amount. We agreed we would each buy our own food and toiletries. I slowly started to buy decorations for my room to make it my own. Things were going amazingly well, and I was just so happy! 

But wait! There's more! Things continually got better. It came about that Joe would be coming to America for a course at Quantico. He would be 9 hours away from me for 4 weeks! Joe and I also decided to get a dog. That is just how sure we were that this was the real deal for us. Big things were happening in our life together! 

Those 4 weeks of getting to see Joe were absolutely amazing. It reaffirmed for both of us that we were meant for each other. I even got to bring our brand new puppy, Bear, to meet Joe before he went back to Israel. It was all so magical...well almost all. My job was not happy that I was gone for all 4 weekends to see Joe. I got a text from my office manager (not Shelby) one of the weekends saying how disappointed she was in me for leaving the office in such a difficult position of being 1 person short. I stood my ground and said that I valued this time with Joe more. When I got back, the manager and Shelby had a sit down meeting with me and served up some consequences for taking those 4 weekends off--all which were approved by the way! I was shocked, surprised and downright hurt. The supportive staff I had worked for were now being very stubborn and not empathetic to what was happening with Joe being in Israel. So I began a search for another job. And by gosh, I found one! I handed in my two weeks' notice, and sadly, it cost me the relationship with my boss.

That new job is one I still miss, to this day. I became a chiropractic assistant for a doctor literally one mile from the house I lived in. The hours were amazing, the pay was great, my boss and coworker were the best people to work with. I would have stayed there forever, honestly. But I finally found my own independent groove there in South Carolina. I felt independent and secure for the first time in a very long time. It was not to last, sadly. 

Things took... a weird turn. 

Deandra and I started having some issues. I won't air all the dirty laundry here. Deandra actually reached out to me this year, 5 years after this all happened, and apologized for everything she did. But things got weird, uncomfortable, and I truly felt unsafe in that house. Bear and I stayed in my room. It got to the point where I would go in and out through my window because I didn't feel comfortable going through the front door if she was home. I needed out, but couldn't find affordable options anywhere! That's where God showed up yet again.

Joe moved to Virginia permanently. 

My wonderful boss encouraged me...well he basically amicably fired me (thank you Dr. D!!!!!!), and told me to get the heck out of South Carolina. And I sure did. I ran out of that house faster than you can say lickity split. Things with Deandra got even worse, again, I won't go into detail because frankly I'd rather not relive all of that. But I got out!! I made it!

I got another chiropractic assisting job in Virginia, found Joe, Bear and I an apartment, and wham bam thank you ma'am...here we are. Another dog, a baby, and another move under our belt. 

Life got dicey. It got weird. It got wonderful. I learned so much about God. About His character. About His forgiveness. About His promises. I learned a lot about me! I get things done. When the going gets tough, I get tougher. I figure things out. Looking back on this story, I'm glad it happened. Not all of it, some bits I could do without. But as a whole though, it helped shape who I am today. 

A wife. A momma. A full, fledged follower of Jesus.

Movement: My Story Part 6

I didn't hesitate.

I told Tanner that I was in love with Joe. I'll never forget his response. He laughed and said "oh that's normal to have a little crush, it's okay!" You could have knocked me over with a feather. I reiterated, "No this is real. I'm in love with Joe." Tanner still was incredulous and insisted this was a phase.

I slept on the couch that night, needing to figure out what the heck I was going to do. Where was I to go? Financially, I could not afford the apartments in that area by myself. I didn't know what to do, but I needed to leave immediately. 

That morning driving to work, God spoke so clearly to me. I was to return to the apartment on my lunch break, stuff my tiny Fiat full of my belongings, and go. 

But where, God? I thought. Then it became clear. My boss, Shelby.

I got to work, and I went to my boss's office, like I had so many times before. There must have been an urgency in my appearance, because she sat up straight and said "what happened?" 

I told her, and she swooped in to help me. She gave me an extra long lunch to go get my things, and said she had a room ready for me. So that's what I did. While Tanner was at work, I went into that apartment and grabbed my things, and left a note for Tanner. And I walked out. I think I told the leasing office i was leaving, and figured out what they needed from me to get me off the lease. They worked with me on that; I give all credit to God! 

After work, I went home with Shelby. I remember being so tired and also so expectant for what God was going to do. Joe was stressed that he wasn't there to help me, but so thankful I was safe. I didn't even think to ask if Shelby had notified her family that they would be having a guest...indefinitely! 

When I arrived, I took my suitcase inside and got settled in the guest room. I came back out and Shelby's husband and daughter was home..and it was her husband's birthday.

Talk about awkward. 

I quietly sat at dinner, celebrating a man whom I had never even met. After dinner we talked a out expectations. I felt so uncomfortable--not by anything they did--it was just clear I was an unexpected visitor. I began the hunt for a new home immediately. 

Over the next 2 weeks, I spent all my time at work or at the gym, trying to stay out of the family's hair as much as possible. My coworkers were so supportive and they even helped me house hunt! But it wasn't all great, as Tanner began to harass me at work. He even went as far as to lie to me, saying that his dog took my sudden disappearance so hard that it put her in a coma and she was at the vet. I called the vet and they were very confused and said the dog hadn't been to the vet since the last time I took her! It was very aggravating, and I began to see a lot about Tanner that I hadn't allowed myself to see before. 

One day, my coworker came flying over to my desk saying she may have found the perfect place. It was a room for rent at a house 10 minutes from work, and miracle of miracles, it was within my price range! I texted the girl renting the room, and we decided to meet for dinner. 

I was elated! I may have found my home...MY home...at last!

Darings and Denial: My Story Part 5

 Joe stayed for 3 days.

3 days and I was his; that's all it took. But here's the thing about me: I am about as stubborn as an ear-less mule. I figured Joe thought I was just another drop in the ocean, and so I released him back to the Marine Corps. I watched him drive away and out of my life forever (so I thought!), and drove to work with a film of tears covering my corneas. 

I arrived at work, and went straight to my boss's office to fill her in on my glorious weekend. She smirked at me the whole time I was talking. 

"Alyssa, you love this guy!"

"What!? Nooo, no. He's just a really good guy, a good friend." 

She laughed. The rest of my co workers concurred with my boss. I was smitten, it seemed, to everyone around me. I accepted that Joe was a memory, a lovely memory I could hold tightly at night. But I couldn't get my heart to stop beating so purposefully. I couldn't stop smiling when his name popped into my thoughts. But most of all, I couldn't stop replaying our conversations in my head...the way he brought my relationship with Jesus back into the forefront of my heart. 

I was surprised in the next few days. Joe reached out to me to check in and see how I was doing. I was elated!! Again, spurring my coworkers to remind me of my twitterpated self. I will keep the sweet conversations between Joe and myself private, but he kept talking to my heart. He kept tapping away at the parts of me that had been closed off for so long. Before I knew it, Joe was my best friend. We told each other absolutely everything. Talking to him was the first thing I did in the morning, and the last thing I did at night. 

But then one day in January, Joe had some news. He was being sent over seas to Israel for a year. I honestly thought this meant the end. I'd never see him again. I cried for days, mourning what would never be. But he kept messaging me. I began to write him letters...I am a romantic afterall! That's when it hit me.

I am in love with him. I don't write to just anyone!! I wrote him a letter pouring my heart out to him...

Then I ripped it up and threw it away! 

I wrote another letter, one that was filled with the usual content. But at the end...I just had to say something to him. I said:

"Joe, do you ever wonder what life would be like if you had met me before Tanner did?"

I stamped it and mailed it before I chickened out. It took weeks for him to get the letter. But then one afternoon, he texted me. I saw it was a very long message, which is not typical of Joe, so I went to the bathroom to read it. 

He loved me. 

He'd known since the moment I opened the door. He knew I was to be his wife, he just hadn't known how. 

I broke into tears. He loved me. My whole world changed in .01 seconds. 

I went to my boss immediately. I told her she was right. She cried with me! I was so happy, I didn't know what to do with myself other than just cry. Then reality came crashing down.

Tanner?? What do I do? Where do I go? 

I have met my soulmate. He is across the ocean...but I've met him!! Now I have to dare to be with him.