My why

Hey y’all! Fair warning I am still trying to figure out all of this blog stuff, how to post stuff, how to put a link to it, and all the other fun that comes with it 😬To be honest, in case you can’t already tell, I would never describe myself as technologically savvy 😜So please bear with me as I try to figure it all out! And if anyone has helpful tips, please send them my way!!

I know in my first post I talked a little bit about the beginning of my journey with this unexpected and unwanted adventure in my life. I left off my story where I woke up in the cardiac care unit and realized I was paralyzed for the chest down! There’s so much more that I’m going to talk about in regards to my hospital experience and what I learned there, I promise!! I thought today I would talk about the why and how I came to starting this blog.

As I shared yesterday, and will continue to share, I have always considered myself much more of a “talker” than a “writer”. I’m kind of a fly by the seat of my pants person when it comes to making speeches or telling stories. When my dad died at 50 years old, my sister and my aunt both wrote beautiful tributes to him. I, on the other hand, got up and just spoke to what was in my heart at that time. For me, it is just a much more natural process that way. Unfortunately, I have learned that when I do that I have a tendency to ramble a little bit or go off on a tangent! LOL When I first found myself in the hospital unable to move 75% of my body, I knew then that I wanted to start a page or a blog exclusively about my injury and my journey moving forward. I had no idea how to start a blog and I certainly didn’t have the mental capacity to learn at that time. From that my journey page on Facebook was started ❤️

Through this page I was able to share my rehab process, my thoughts, my prayers my hopes and my fears. So even though the process of writing was a little harder for me, I found that I was much more able to express what was in my heart and in my mind then I could speak out loud. This was a new for me! I have never been one to be able to talk about and express my emotions and what I feel is the appropriate way. Writing about these things was a release for me I couldn’t get any other way! I know it was hard on some of my family and friends to read how I was feeling but know that I wasn’t able to or didn’t want to share these feelings directly with them. I tried to convince them that this was not about them and it wasn’t because they weren’t a safe place for me express myself. This was simply something I struggled with internally and was not a reflection on how supportive my friends and family were. For me I would get into these cycles where I would write something every day or a couple things a day and then I would go days or weeks or months without writing. A lot of this had to do with the depression I was feeling once I got home! I knew, that in going home that was going to be my biggest challenge! Boy I honestly have no idea, how hard it would be and how much I would struggle!!

I returned home broken and completely unable to be the super mom I once was and to be honest, I hate the concept of supermom. People would call me that and ask how I did it and all I wanted to say was I’m doing what I have to do, what my kids need and what my husband needs, no more than any other wife, mother, friend, daughter would do. I went from driving my kids to all their practices being active in church and teaching Sunday school every Sunday for 10 years, being the cubmaster for my boys Cub Scout troop, soccer mom extraordinaire and team manager, to barely even been able to dress myself. Talk about a huge fall!! When people came over I would put on a good face and smile and laugh and be optimistic, but when they would leave I would literally sit and watch HGTV, eat my Cheerios with honey and let the tears fall. I felt broken wide open and I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together again. My saving grace is and always will be my faith in God and knowing that he had a plan for all of this! I actually feel like God has been working on preparing my heart for this unwanted journey for years before hand!

As I shared my father died at the age of 50 from a massive stroke. Besides my husband and my children, my father was my world and I was devastated and unsure how to move forward for a long time. Completely breaking down and curling up into a ball, was not an option for me though I wished at times it was. Not only did I have kids and a husband and other responsibilities to care for, I’m just not wired for a breakdown, and I felt such a strong responsibility to live up to the example my father set. Those were some mighty big shoes to fill!!Shortly after losing my father, our family suffered another great loss! My sister in love, Sandi, died tragically from cervical/ovarian cancer and the young age of 25. My sister and I flew to Wisconsin to be with my brother, I met Sandi‘s wonderful family and fell in love and they accepted me immediately even though they had some hard feelings towards my brother. I had the honor and the privilege of praying with Sandi before she passed away in hospice and she was able to except Christ just days before she died. Praise the Lord that was and still is, one of the most special moments in my life. I sat besides my brother and Sandi’s mom as she took her last breath. It was absolutely surreal watching this beautiful, strong, extremely kind hearted mother of my 3 year old niece die before my eyes. I was the one who had to tell Addy her mommy died, to convince my brother that the funeral would not be good for Addy and then I was honored to speak at her memorial service and tell others about her decision for Christ. My brother, who has been broken basically since childhood, completely broke in half and there was nothing I could do to make it better. My baby brother needed me, and I was helpless to solve the problem.

One year later my grandpa passed, again I was by his side watching him take his final death breath. He was more than ready to go, especially after my dad, his oldest died, he was just done. Though it is always hard to watch someone waste away in front of you, we were ready for him to be free. I don’t know if I’ll see my grandpa in Heaven and that is the hardest part of his loss for me. I pray I will ❤️ Just a few short months later, my oldest two children lost their grandma, one of the most wonderful women I have ever known! I sat beside them and their dad willing to be there for whatever they needed. To be honest, my heart felt so done with all of the loss, and I personally, did not have the strength to help my love ones!It was only because of my faith in God and him walking beside me and holding me up that I was able to help my family through these times. I kept waiting to break but I just didn’t.

In 2012, I experienced a different kind of loss that I was not expecting! I found myself, once again, unexpectedly expecting when our 5th baby, Logan, was just 15 months old. To be honest, both Brian and I were not thrilled at this prospect! Our little guy was just so little, we hadn’t planned on having another, and just couldn’t imagine another baby so close on the heels of our last one. I mean we love our children, like LOVE of our children but we already felt full up and I was not looking forward to yet another pregnancy right after having my 10 pound baby boy the year before. Nevertheless, I was excited at my six week ultrasound to see my little jellybean’s heart beat! I was still shocked but also getting excited. Brian and I sure do make some tasty and delicious babies ❤️Since this was not our first rodeo, we decided that I would go to my 12 week doctor appointment by myself. I figured we would get to see the baby, hug my favorite nurse and come home with pictures to show everyone! At this point we hadn’t told our kids and only one or two of our family members knew. As soon as my doctor started to look around I saw his face, and I just knew. “There’s no heartbeat is there” I said as I could tell he was looking so hard to be able to tell me anything else. He confirmed my worst fears and my favorite nurse came in with tissues and cried with me. I knew it could happen to anyone, and statistically speaking it was surprising that I hadn’t had a miscarriage before! That knowledge, however, did nothing to ease my aching heart as I called my husband to come home. We knew in our hearts, our baby was a little girl and we named her Hannah Grace as we started the long process of feeling. I lost my baby but even more than that, I lost my faith in my own body. This would be the first time, but not the last, that my body would betray me.

In 2015, I received a call that my mom in Wisconsin, my biological mother, fell in the bathroom and had to be taken to the hospital. In the interest of full disclosure I will tell you that my mom suffered with alcohol abuse her entire adult life. When her and my dad divorced she willingly gave us, my brother and I, to my dad knowing that was what was best for the two of us. I can not thank or commend her enough for making this decision. I cannot imagine what my life would’ve been like had she raised us. That might seem harsh, but the reality is, if she were here, she would say the same thing. I have no doubt that my mom loved my brother and I with all of her heart. She was a young mom at 19 like I was with my first child, and as much as she loved us, she just never could quite figure out how to put our needs in front of her disease. She certainly wanted to and tried many times, but in the end, she just wasn’t able to beat it. When I received this call, I didn’t think much of it other than the fact that my mom was in the hospital, obviously. Over the course of a week to 10 days she had started to improve and I talked to her several times. When I called the nurses station to get an update, I remember the nurse kind of hedging around what he wanted to say. I knew he wanted to disclose what was really going on but didn’t know if I knew. I told him that there was no reason to be shy about what was happening and why. I knew who my mom was and what her struggles were. I needed honesty and transparency. So each time I called I would be assured that she was getting better, although, my mom just never sounded quite right when I talked to her on the phone. She seemed confused often as if as not sure what was really going on. Because I knew she was getting better, I wasn’t really concerned when I hadn’t heard anything for a day or two. I remember on a Saturday, driving about two hours to go to one of my sons many soccer games and getting home late at night. I never checked Facebook that day and so when I got home and got on, I saw something from my mothers brother saying she was in the ICU and that she stopped breathing and was on life-support! I don’t think I could ever accurately describe the drop my heart felt at reading those words. I immediately called the hospital to figure out what was going on. The nurses and doctors were incredibly apologetic believing that they had already talked to me during the day. In fact, they thought they had called me to let me know what was going on, but mistakenly had called my elderly grandmother instead. I learned that my mom had aspirated earlier in the day, had stopped breathing and was in fact on life-support in the ICU. I called my aunt, my rock, even though it was late at night, as I was at a loss on what I should do next. I knew I needed to get there but with six kids at home, I just didn’t know when. She assured me that I needed to get on a plane the next day, and I arranged a flight for me and my 11-month-old son, who was still breast-feeding, and needed to come with mama. I don’t wanna go too much into what that week was like as I prepared to say goodbye to my mom. I will in another post, I am sure. Ultimately I was left to be the one who had to take her off of life support. I’m sure. This was yet another huge loss. At the age of 35, I was now, for all intents and purposes, an orphan. Losing my dad at 50 and my mom at 55 seemed like a cruel and unimaginable blow to me at the time. I received so much support, for myself and my family, while I was in Wisconsin taking care of my mom like she would have wanted. I knew once again without a doubt, that God was with me, he would hold me up and be my strength when I had none. To be honest, by the time she took her last breath, I had zero strength of my own left.

I tell you about all of this loss, not to say t “look how bad I’ve had it and I’ve obviously experienced more than my fair share of loss” While yes, I do feel like I have experienced my share and maybe your share too of loss, I know that many many other people in our country and in countries throughout our world have suffered so much more than I have. I don’t like to compare loss or suffering at all! That is a losing game right there and sets us up to be less compassionate and empathetic towards one another. My loss is no bigger than your loss, my heart doesn’t hurt more or less than your heart hurts and I would never want somebody else to feel that their loss wasn’t as important as mine. In fact, I often get upset, for lack of better word, when people don’t want to share their loss or suffering with me!! People don’t want to “burden me” with what they feel is trivial compared to my pain. That’s the last thing I want!! I want people to know that if they hurt, I hurt 😞 I don’t compare and contrast, I don’t judge, and I don’t want you to hold back your pain in an attempt to make it easier for me. In fact, just the opposite is true!! When I get to come alongside someone, pray for them and encourage them and my mentor them, it makes what I am going through that much more bearable. I can get outside myself and my own pain for a little while and I can use what I’ve learned to help someone else!! There is no greater joy for me, than to give back all I have received from others. No greater honor than to pray for a hurting friend.❤️

I tell you about my loss, to show you quite simply, that with all I’ve been through, there is NO WAY I could have handled all that on my own!! I do not have the strength to get through even one of those things on my own, without God, and come out sane on the other side. Some of you may have more strength inside of yourselves than I do, but for me, every single one of those losses threaten to break me, and it was only God, who refused to let that happen. It was only God who allowed me to be bent as far as I have been without being broken in half. I do believe that all these losses have prepared me for what would be my biggest challenge so far. Prepared me to go to bed one night a 100% fully functioning wife and mother and by the next night be paralyzed from the chest down. Prepared me to know in my heart that I was not guaranteed a miracle, and be ok with that. Prepared me so that one of my very first thoughts would be, that I know that God is going to use my pain for his purpose, use my story for his glory and to truly say that it is well within my soul. To have a piece that truly surpassed all understanding while my body betrayed me was not something I could’ve ever prepared myself for. To say yes Lord, USE ME even if... even if it brings me more pain, more loss, more suffering. I trust you with my life and I will follow you. If I could credit myself with any one thing, and I struggle to do that because even in this one thing God has done this for me, but if I could credit myself with one thing it would be knowing that I know nothing. Knowing that my plans are not better than his and I had learned through enough trial and error, and falling flat on my face, repeatedly, that I would step aside, let go of control and cling on to Jesus for dear life.

This is my why. This is the reason I am sitting here furiously typing away, when y’all know this is not my first choice of entertainment. This is the reason share my pain. This is the reason I keep going day after day, the reason I get out of bed even when my body says no. It’s only because of my faith that I can truly say, use me Lord, whatever that means.

I am so very thankful for my WHY and for the opportunity to share it with those who can grow along with me.

Nicole 💕💕