The Gifts of Healing and Miracles

I went to church on Sunday.  I had to get out of the house, or I would go CRAZY!  The RS lesson was about gifts of the spirit.  A few of us were given papers to read outlining the different gifts.  When I finally looked down and read mine, I almost started laughing, and crying at the same time.  My paper said,"#7:  The Gift of Healing" and further down the page "The Gift of Miracles."  Yeah, I don't know anything about that, right?  I decided that it had been rigged.  But...Miracles are a gift, and they are very much alive in this world today.  I know this first hand.

I had my staples taken out yesterday.  My incision looks really gross.  I also received my diagnosis.  The tumor in my kidney was a whopping 7.8 cm in size.  It was stage 2 renal cell carcinoma (aka kidney cancer).  It had grown outside of the kidney, but had stopped in the fatty lining around the kidney.  It has not spread to the rest of my body.  The cancer is very slow growing, but Gary read on the internet that once it gets bigger than 7cm, it usually breaks out of the kidney and enters the rest of the body.  I, seriously, dodged a bullet.  There is a 15% chance that I will have renal cell carcinoma again in my life, but that is in God's hands.  I'm not going to worry about that.

I have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.  I am thankful to be alive.   I am thankful for family, friends and neighbors who have been praying for me.  I'm thankful for my mom who has been here for me, and even stayed up all night in the hospital with me walking and scratching my legs and watching cheesy Lifetime movies with me.  I'm thankful for doctors who knew what they were doing.  I'm thankful for Gary for keeping me positive and making me laugh, even when it hurt to laugh, and for putting up with me when I was on morphine and scaring away missionaries and nurses.  He is definitely the source of my strength and I am so so so grateful for him.  I'm thankful for my kids, all five of them.

And I'm thankful for the gifts of miracles and healing.

My Journey into single Kidney-hood...Part 1

Well, I am happy to report that I am alive and well, and so is the baby.  And I feel amazing...and overwhelmed.  I am overwhelmed by the amount of prayers that have been said on my behalf.  Gary told me that there was even an entire Jewish school praying for me.  Friends, family, people I've never even met have mentioned me in their prayers.  And that is overwhelming.  In a good way.  I know that not everyone will read this, but I am so grateful for the prayers and thoughts and good karma that have been sent my way.  I know that they were heard and answered.

My journey started on November 9th when I had to go to the hospital to have a filter placed in the major vein that runs up my body to prevent any blood clots that may form from reaching my lungs...again.  I was pretty nervous at the thought of having this done, especially because I had to be awake for the procedure.  But...it turned out to not be so bad, even though it did hurt and it was pretty freaky having a wire placed down my jugular vein, and being awake to realize this was happening.  By the way, the filter looks like a mechanical squid. And it is still lodged in my body as I type this.

On the 10th I went to ladies' night at The Melting Pot with my sister-in-law.  Pure heaven...

On the 11th, I did some errands and stopped eating solid food.  My mom took the kids that night because Gary and I had to report at the hospital bright and early the next morning at 5:30.  We watched Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice.  I fell asleep part way through Private Practice.  Gary said they were the two dumbest shows he's ever seen.

Early on November 12th, we made our way to the hospital.  We checked in, got blood work, and they got me all prepped for my surgery.  On a side note, the tech who wheeled me into the surgery holding room had trained with me when I worked at Sundance.  Small world.  In the holding room, it was just me and five very old people.  I guess only very old people are crazy enough to be awake and having surgery at 5:30 in the morning.  To keep myself busy, I rummaged through my medical charts, that seem to becoming longer and longer all the time.  Listed as one of my symptoms was...Overweight.  Oi!  Nothing like a medical chart to make the truth so vivid.  I suppose I'll have to find a way to cure that one.  Maybe the Dr. could do a fat-ectomy on me?

At 6:30am they wheeled me into the OR.  It made me think of the doctors on Grey's Anatomy telling the interns to "prep an OR."  I looked for McDreamy, but I guess he doesn't do nephrectomies (which is a fancy word for removing an entire kidney).  And then I was asleep.

To be continued...

Faith

This morning I read a blog post by a friend who basically went from having everything, to having nothing.  They didn't have clothes, or beds for the kids, or even a home.  They were living in a hotel.  But they never lost faith that things would work out.  I've never known what it is like to not have a home.  My kids have always had enough and more.  In fact, I used to wonder why my life was so easy when so many of my friends and family struggled.  I just chalked it up to marrying well :).  Even now, with everything that is going on in my body, probably things that I don't even know about, or want to know about, I feel blessed.  I have a husband who works so hard and has kept us in our home, even when it seemed impossible at one time.  I have four absolutely amazing children who love me so much.  I have a mom who loves me enough to drop everything to come help me when I really need her.  I have friends and neighbors standing by to do whatever they can to help.  And I have faith.  I have faith that God knows what he is doing.  I have put my life, literally, into his hands.  I know that whatever the outcome is, everything will be okay.  It's been a miracle how everything has worked out.  Here's the story:

To anyone who asked me if I wanted any more kids, the answer was a resounding NO!  I get so sick when I'm pregnant and I felt like I had my hands full with the four I've got.  So, when I found out I was pregnant, I cried.  Not tears of joy.  But, this little baby may have saved my life.  The doctors think that I have a genetic disorder that makes me more likely to develop blood clots than the average person.  They also believe that the pregnancy is what triggered it to happen.  While I was in the hospital, I mentioned to one of my nurses that I was kind of big for only being 11 weeks pregnant, and wondered if maybe there were blood clots somewhere else.  So, they did an ultrasound and discovered that I had a large tumor in my right kidney.  So, this little baby that I didn't want, may have saved my life.  This little baby, that saved my life, may not make it through the surgery.  But...This is where faith comes in.  God knows what he is doing.  He knows what's best and He will give us the strength to make it through whatever happens to be put in our paths.  I know this.  And I'm not afraid anymore.

You only need one, right?

It's been a crazy few days! It turns out, the blood clots may have saved my life. It seems as though there is a tumor growing in my right kidney. It has completely taken over and is slowly destroying it. Because of my pregnancy, they are unable to do the tests that they would usually do to determine what the tumor is made of, so they will just have to remove my entire kidney. It will be tricky finding the right time for the safety of the baby and me, but I have confidence in my doctors. I'm taking this one day at a time, and have faith that the Lord knows what is best. Besides, I only need one kidney :)

Why are nights always so hard?

Well, I made it through the night. I prayed like I've never prayed before. And I got to see my sweet babies and Gary. I had a good day, if you can call being stuck in a hospital with blood clots in your lungs "good". I got some visitors, got some phone calls, and much love on Facebook. Usually I would have just kept this to myself, thinking that I didn't want people to worry, but I really appreciate all the love and prayers. Not to mention it's been good to get my feelings out. I tend to bottle them up and put on a brave face. But when you are faced with life and death, it really puts a perspective on things and makes you so grateful for so many things.

I don't know why, but nights always seem to be the hardest for me. Today when I talked to Natalie on the phone she told me that if I died, her life would be over. I remember telling mu mom the same thing as a little girl! I'm so grateful that We believe the way we do and I was able to tell her, as I've told her many times before, that no matter what I will always be her mommy and we will always be a family. There's just something so powerful in that. I feel so bad for people who believe that death is the end. It must be so devastating to lose a loved one.

Tonight Sara called me, crying her little eyes out. Gary said that she had been laying in bed for two hours, crying and staring at a picture of the two of us. My heart just broke as I realized the affect that is having on my sweet little girl, and probably my whole family. My Gary is so amazing and my children are so brave. I thank my Father in Heaven every day for them. I know that I will survive this, but how do you reassure a four year old when her life has been turned upside down? How do you explain to her that sometimes we have bad things happen, but we can use these as stepping stones to become stronger and have more faith? I know I have. I saw my family in a whole new light today. Instead of seeing their messy hair and wanting to fix it (dad's can't do hair) and their crazy clothes, I saw four of the most beautiful little people. I saw their tired daddy, and just wanted to hug him and tell him that everything will be okay. I just want to hug them and never let go!

Sorry if my posts are depressing. This is just the time I have the most going through my head, and I have to get it out so that I don't go crazy!

What ifs

It's almost 12:00am and I am sitting here in a hospital bed wondering if I am ever going to see my kids again. It's been a long 48 hours that has led up to this. I'm scared. Not of dying, but of leaving four little children motherless. I'm trying so hard to be brave, and I was actually succeeding for a while. But now I am laying in a hospital bed, alone, with all of these what-ifs running through my head. What if I fall asleep and never wake up? What if I never hear Lily say,"mommy, will you smuggle me?" whenever she wants me to lay by her at night? What if I never get to ask my kids how their day at school was, or watch them play,or comfort them? When you are laying in a hospital bed, alone, at 12:00am, there are so many what ifs.

I can't recall when I began to feel like my lungs were not acting appropriately for lungs. All I know is that i began dreading the long hike up the stairs. Then it was the long walk from my bed to the door, and then the bathroom seemed miles away. Each time I would collapse on the bed, just trying to catch my breath. Finally, two days ago, I called Gary at work and told him, frantically, that something was seriously wrong with me. I laid in bed waiting for him to come home, and snuggled a sleeping little Lily. There is nothing quite so precious as a sleeping baby. I felt like someone had punched me in the chest and now that person was sitting on me.

Long story short...it turns out that my lungs are full of blood clots. We don't know yet why or where they came from, but any one of them could decide to dislodge and put itself in an area that could kill me. And I'm scared. And the what ifs are running through my head.

So it is now 12:14 am, and I am going to pray and have faith that God knows what He is doing. And that the doctors know what they are doing. And that I make it through the night so that I can see my babies and Gary again. I miss them so much. I love them so much.

And what if I make it through this? Well, then am going to thank my Heavenly Father, profusely for giving me another chance to be a better person.

Monterey

I was just starting to type up the San Francisco part of our trip, when I realized that I had forgotten that we made a two day stop in Monterey!  Anyway, so Gary had found us this great little camp ground with a heated swimming pool to stay at while in Monterey.  By the time we got there, it was getting late.  We drove down to the area where the main office was.  Let me tell you, I was a little nervous.  The place looked like a trailer park version of Reno.  Complete with plastic lawn ornaments and Christmas lights.  We didn't find our name on the reservations.  So, we thought maybe we weren't in the right place.  So we kept driving up and up until we came to another main office.  This one was a much nicer place and our names were on the reservation sign, right next to a sign that said "Do not feed the mountain lions."  Wait...what?  Mountain lions?  So...we drove up and up some more until we found our camping site.  Unfortunately, there was already a car parked in our spot.  So...we drove up and up some more until we found a vacant spot.  By this time it was dark.  Gary and Garrett set up the tent while I sat locked in the car with the three sleeping girls.  There was no way I was going to sleep in a tent with mountain lions wandering about.  So I slept in the car.

The next day, the kids and Gary decided to go swimming in the heated pool.  It was 57 degrees outside and very misty.  They are crazy.  We just relaxed and drove around Monterey.  That night, after seeing that Gary and Garrett had made it through the night without being eaten by a mountain lion, I decided that the girls and I would join them in the tent.  Major mistake.  The camp above us was partying until really late and it sounded like they were shooting each other.  Finally, they quieted down.  A while later I heard a strange growling sound coming from outside my tent.  My heart began to race.  I laid there and listened and then jumped up, moved the air mattress away from the side of the tent, smacked Gary on the head to wake him up and told him about the growling.  He listened for a while and then said, in a not so happy voice,"Amy, it's the old man next to us snoring. Don't wake me up again unless you are missing a limb."  And then he rolled over and went back to sleep.  Did I mention how much I enjoy sleeping in tents?

The next day we went to the aquarium in Monterey.  It was still 57 degrees outside, and windy.  The kids had a really good time.  There was a mirror maze up the street that they (and Gary) loved.  Monterey is really beautiful, but not very warm.

Next stop...for sure this time...SAN FRANCISCO!

San Jose

There is this theme park in California that we discovered some years ago called "Spongebob Disneyland."  Well, it's not actually called "Spongebob Disneyland."  It's actually called "Paramount's Great America."  But that's just way too hard for a 4 year old little boy to remember, so Garrett re-named it, based on the Nickelodeon characters that walked around.  Now, six years later it is no longer "Spongebob Disneyland."  All of the Nickelodeon characters and rides have been replaced by Snoopy.  Oh, well.  It was still loads of fun!

As evidenced by Lily's face...

This was Gary's favorite part.  An extreme bike riding show.  Complete with skanky girls shaking their stuff...

Next stop...San Francisco!

Yosemite

Bridal Veil Falls, Yosemite, California

Every year we try to take at least one big trip as a family.  This year's trip happened to coincide with my Gary graduating with his Master's degree.  His school happens to be in San Jose, California.  So...it was a no brainer as to where our trip would be.  Gary was able to get a week off of work, so we packed up the van and headed on our way.  We decided to take highway 6 through Eureka.  We stopped at Great Basin National Park, and Area 51*.

 (*I did not see any aliens, even though I looked and looked.  I did see a lot of cows though, perhaps they were aliens in disguise?)

We drove and drove through the night until we reached our first destination.  Yosemite.  Wow.  The only word to describe Yosemite is breathtaking.  It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.  It is one of the places that should be on everybody's bucket list.  Here's a little sampling, although my camera is not capable of doing it justice:

The kids loved climbing on all of the granite rocks.  It made Gary and I a bit nervous when Lily decided to join in the fun.

There was a little creek right by our campsite that entertained the kids for hours.  The water was so clear!  

Weekly Goals

1.  Clean the entire house from top to bottom (surprisingly this has only happened...maybe twice...in the 4 years we've lived here).

2.  Get my butt out of bed and go for a walk at least 4 days this week.

3.  Clean my garbage can on wheels car out.

4.  Teach Nabby how to rollerblade.

5.  Start getting my kids back on a schedule.  (school starts in a month, crazy!!!)

6.  Start a new building project.  More info to come...

Natalie is 7!!! (going on 17)

7 things I love about Natalie:

1.  I love the sound of her voice when she first wakes up.
2.  I love how she makes friends wherever she goes.
3.  I love how dedicated she is to the things she loves to do.
4.  I love that she is such a hard worker.
5.  I love that she is never jealous of what other people have.
6.  I love how she is always saying nice things about other people.
7.  I love her beautiful smile.

I love you, Nabby!

Stuff...

For the last month, my neighbors have been in the process of selling almost everything they own and moving away to start a new life.  It was really strange going across the street and seeing the house that had once been so beautifully decorated, completely empty.  The couches that we sat on while chatting were gone.  The family picture that hung in the entryway, gone.  The friend that I had spent many hours talking with and walking with...gone.  It made me think about how quickly things can change in life.  It also made me think about all the "stuff" and clutter that I have in my life.  All of the hours and money that I have put into trying to make my house beautiful.  My friend had spent time and money making her house beautiful, only to sell it all off.  As she was packing what was left of her and her family's belongings into the two little trailers that will be their home for the next three months, she was telling me how much things had changed in the last year.  That house was to have been the place where they raised their kids and enjoyed their grandkids.  They had planned on staying forever.  And then life happened and things changed.  She had once been so concerned about having her house spotless and her yard perfect.  And then she had to go back to school and work and no longer had the time to care.  She had once been so consumed with appearance and had tons of great clothes and jewelry.  And now she was selling it all off because it wouldn't all fit in the trailer.  And it wasn't all that important to her anymore.

The thing that I've learned from this is that it's not the stuff you accumulate that's important.  It's the people.  It's the experiences.  You can't take the houses, cars, boats, clothing etc with you when you die.  All you have is what you've done and who you've known and what you've learned.  After all, isn't that why we're even here?  To learn?  To love?  To experience life?  When we die, someone is just going to go through all of our stuff and sell it off or throw it away.  So I think I'm going to try focusing on what I CAN take with me, and not stressing so much about what I can't.

Pioneer Day...In May

As I was driving home yesterday from visiting my mom in Provo my mind kind of wandered to how greatful I am to not be a pioneer woman.  Yes, I know.  Random.  But if you think about it, it's so nice to be able to drive 20 miles to visit someone in about 20 minutes, instead of spending all day walking there.  And then walking back.  Or fly across the country in a few hours instead of packing up the covered wagon and spending the next year or so traveling.  Not to mention air conditioning, or fast food, or indoor plumbing, or dishwashers.  Yes, we are a very blessed generation.  At least, so it seems.  We don't have to worry about freezing in the winters (unless we don't pay our gas bills).  We can just hop in our cars and go to the grocery store instead of waiting for the harvesting of our crops, assuming we can even get crops to grow.  We don't have to worry about walking across the plains and losing half (if not all) of our children to cold or hunger or wild animals.  Yes, I am greatful to not be a pioneer woman.

Then my thoughts went to all of the things that we do have to worry about.  No, we don't have to plant food unless we want to.  But we do have to worry about obesity and wether or not we and our families are getting enough nutrition out of our plethora of food.  We don't have to worry about freezing to death, but we do have to breath the yucky air that we've created with all of our gas and oil consumption.  We don't have to worry about wild animals devouring our children, but there are definitly predators out there willing to prey on our innocent children.  We have to worry about all of the issues that go along with our technology.  We and our children literally have the world at our fingertips, which is awesome, but can be very bad too. 

At church on Sunday, my co-teacher mentioned that it is so easy to forget the Lord when we are so blessed.  I know I have forgotten who blesses me a time or two, only to be humbled a short time later.  I'm pretty sure that the pioneers basically lived on faith and gratitude for their very lives. 

Given all of the pros and cons of both lifestyles, I'll take mine any day.  I am so greatful for not being born a pioneer, but I am so greatful for all of the pioneers in history that made my lifestyle possible.

Friends

I admit it.  I. am. weird.  I don't like doing things just because everyone else is doing it.  If my best friend jumped off a cliff, I probably would not.  Since none of my friends have jumped off a cliff, it is on my to-do list.  I don't understand the need that so many people have to "fit in."  Of course I like having friends, but I would rather have one friend that truly "gets" me, than have a ton of friends that I have to work so hard to impress.  I think a friend is someone who you aren't afraid to be yourself around.  Someone who you can call at 3am to sit with your kids while you go to the hospital, and when you get home, you find that she's folded all of your laundry.  A friend is someone who doesn't see the dust on your mantle, or the crumbs on the floor.   She doesn't care if you show up to her house without make-up, or in your sweat pants.  A friend is someone who will stand by you through all of your ups and downs.  She knows you're not perfect, and loves you more for it.  A friend is real.  Authentic.  She won't ever stop being your friend just because you don't agree on religion, politics, or who should win American Idol.  A friend is someone who you can go months without talking to, and still know that you are friends.  There's no drama, no strategic planning involved.  A friend is someone who inspires you to be your best.  She doesn't try to knock you down so she'll feel better.  There is no room for jealousy in friendship.

I have been really blessed in my life to have friends.  Because you are my friends, you know who you are.  Thank you for making me a better person, and loving me when I wasn't a very good person.

In Limbo

I am a control freak.  I like to be in control and if I can't be in control, I at least like to know what is going on.    So why do I always feel like I'm out of control?  Why do I feel like I am in constant limbo?  Maybe chaos and uncertainty is just drawn to me.  Here's some background.  My parents divorced when I was really young, around four or five years old.  I didn't know it was going to happen, I had no say and no choice.  It just happened.  No, I'm not going to blame all my issues (and there are many) on my childhood, but I think sometimes it helps to disect the past in order to understand the present, and shape the future.  You don't have to finish reading this.  I just don't really have anyone who listens, so I'm writing.  Back to the first topic...Both of my parents remarried shortly after and my life was thrown into chaos.  We moved very soon after my mom said "I do."  Not only did I no longer have my dad, but I no longer had my room in my house or even my state.  We moved from Utah to Kansas.  I didn't even have my mountains.  Once again, I had no choice, no notice.  In the space of a few weeks, everything I had ever known was gone.  We continued to move every couple of years until I was about 10 years old.  I went to 7 different elementary schools in three different states.  Finally my parents settled, but there were always rumors that we would be moving again.  The thought was always in the back of my mind.  I learned to never get too attached to something because you never know when it will be taken away.  Told you I have issues :)

So this brings me to the present.  I'm sitting here in my pajamas at 1:32 pm typing.  I should be cleaning or exercising or making crafts or at least getting dressed.  But I'm typing.  I'm typing because I feel like if I talk to anyone they'll just think I"m over reacting or obsessing or whatever.  I'm typing because I don't know what the future, what my future holds for me.  I'd like to say that we'll be here next year and forever, but I don't know.  You see, the other day my husband came home and told me that they are moving his company ( job) to West Jordan.  My husband hates commutes.  He didn't even like the 10 minute commute from Orem to Spanish Fork, which is why we are here.  So, I'm pretty sure he won't like the 1 hour each way commute to Salt Lake.  Another thing is that he graduates from school in August.  I don't know what he'll want to do then.  Once again, I really feel like I don't have much choice.  Do I support my husband and tell him that I'll go anywhere he wants to go as long as it makes him happy?  Do I think of how this will affect our kids, none of which want to move?  Or do I just go about my days pretending that everything is okay. 

The other thing that I learned from my crazy childhood is to have faith.  To have faith that everything will work out, somehow for the best.  I think if I were to have a motto it would be "when one door closes, another one always opens."  So, I'm going to kneel down, and pray.  Pray that everything will be okay.  Pray that Gary, who happens to be the patriarch of the family, will know and do what is best for us.  Pray that I'll be able to find peace in my world of chaos and uncertainty.