My Not So Perfect Morning

So did you happen to catch all my bragging little posts on Facebook yesterday?

I felt pretty good about our first day on Summer Vacation! We had spent last week on vacation in NC with my family so yesterday was our first day home. 

I love sleeping in and as soon as summer hits, I forbid my kids to make even the tiniest squeak until after 8! But I pay for it the first 4 months school's back in session. Its soo hard getting up at 6 after sleeping in for a few months! 

This year I have a Preschooler, which means I can't wear my jammie bottoms with a hole in the left butt cheek and the tank top with a stain from when Liam puked peaches all over me, to drop kids off at school. I actually have to get out of the van and walk the Preschool kid to his classroom door. Bra's and brushed teeth are highly encouraged when you are bumping into each other in the hallway while your kid wails not to leave him and your shaking him off of your leg. 

So I decided that I should just keep getting up. My husband is even less of a morning person than I am. He gets up generally 3 minutes after he should have left for work, usually trying to hide his expletives from little ears and asking if his shirt is still tucked into his underwear in the back. He decided that he would try to get up with me so that he only had to drive 10 over the speed limit instead of 15. 

Yesterday we did it! We got up, had a cup of coffee together and I even had  enough time for a quiet time before kids got up. I made breakfast and got groceries and did dishes all before noon! Liam did amazing his first day potty training and a new technique for managing screen time was going great with Micah. I even cleaned the scary mess of Caleb and Kyler's room! It was a great day!

I couldn't wait to repeat it today!

I had kids in and out of my room last night. I didn't sleep good. In fact I had so many interruptions that I woke up this  morning from a dream that even my mom had come and climbed in bed with me!The alarm went off and I seriously thought about dumping the glass of water on my night stand over the top of it to silence it. I kicked my husband. "Babe it's 6:30."

He snorted. "How do you know??" I kinda laughed but kicked him again, "Because the clock says so." 

"Well how do you know its right?"

We got up and had our coffee. He left and I tried to hold my eyes open to start my quiet time. Kids came out and asked what I was doing. They fought with each and whined about being hungry and woke up the other kid that was still sleeping. I kept praying. Although I was praying about that whole not tempting me beyond what I could withstand because I was pretty tempted to reduce the headcount in my home at that exact moment.

I made pancakes. The recipe said it made 10. Mine made 4. I had to make more which means I don't have enough eggs for my cookies I had planned to bake today. Caleb informed me he liked pancakes better when they weren't black. I told him to talk to his brother who had thrown a fit and had needed an "attitude adjustment" which had happened during pancake making time.

I sat down to read with Kyler. He did pretty good for the first 20 minutes. Then I started worrying that we would never get to the end where Curious George finds the puppy and we can all take a break! Pretty soon I realized that there were words I hadn't heard before in this particular story. There wasn't a dinosaur in there when we read it yesterday!

I almost lost it when he read, "George butchered the puppy." He looked up at me and asked if that was right. I did some quick calculations in my head. We had three pages left. Sounding out the correct words took us about 5 minutes a page. Reading these "new" words was getting us through a page at about 1.5 minutes. I smiled at him and said, "Your doing great honey, keep going."

I did Zumba this morning. One kid informed me my butt was bigger than the instructor's on my Wii game and another asked me why my score was so low. 

Finally I had everyone occupied enough so I could hop in the shower. A few minutes of me time. I hopped in and turned to let the hot water run over me. And there occupying my shower with me was a big red scorpion! You know what happens when a tired, slightly overweight, wet woman sees that?? World jumping records! Micah heard me scream. My shower has a head you can take down and spray around. I had my phone up to my ear calling Kevin, I was trying to hold the towel in a position that would cause the least amount of trauma to my eight year old and keeping the shower head spraying on the stupid bug so it couldn't crawl out of the shower onto the very large crowd now staring at it.

Kevin was on the phone wanting to know what in the world I wanted him to do about it 30 miles away. Micah finally got the fly swatter and hit the scorpion. He looked up at me and asked if I thought it was dead. I screamed, "No! Keep hitting it!" After one of its legs flew off and hit me on the face I was finally convinced it wouldn't come back to life. 

All before noon! See I told you yesterday that tomorrow my pride would go before a fall!

Wednesday February 26

I'm writing this blog with plenty of Percocet in my veins, so who knows what I'll say! I know I usually lack an adequate filter as it is, so this could be quite the blog post!

I can't remember who I have talked to in the last few days. I can't really remember what I have said if I have talked to you, and so since I keep repeating a story that I don't really remember much about anyways, I'm writing a short little blog about all that I don't remember. 

Welcome to my groggy drugged up brain. It's disturbing I know. :-)

As we have walked through this ectopic pregnancy journey, nothing really seems to go like we thought it would or planned. Of course I don't know why we expected it to, our life has never really gone as planned. I didn't plan on having 4 boys after I was told I would never have children; I didn't plan that the man of my dreams who I found so charming would ever get on my nerves; I didn't plan that I wouldn't have perfectly behaved children who would think it was hilarious to moon the neighbor lady.

My doctor was super excited about how fast my beta HCG levels were dropping after I received the shot. My levels were on the high side to begin with and I was warned that a second shot was a possibility. We were residents of the ER twice, but things still looked great and outcomes were looking even better than anyone hoped. 

Last Wednesday, I was exactly three weeks past getting the shot, my numbers were clear down to the 300's and I finally felt like I was getting back to my old self. Wednesday morning I got up to get my kids ready for school and I started feeling sick to my stomach. After going to the bathroom I passed out. Convinced I was just getting a nasty stomach bug since the shot I had had weakens the immune system, I convinced my husband to go to work. I called my doctor to make sure he agreed that this was just a stomach bug. Because the pain I had felt before was back, my doctor agreed that this was nothing serious; possibly the larger parts of the pregnancy passing. He instructed me to take 800mg of ibuprofen, and lay down until he called me back after he got out of surgery. 

I went to get the ibuprofen from the kitchen but realized that every time I tried to stand up I was fighting to stay conscious. My kids found the medicine and I knew that unless I was ok experimenting with my 8 year olds driving abilities, I needed to figure out another way to get my kids to school that didn't include unconscious or under aged drivers.

My amazing friend Amanda came and took my boys to school. Through these last few weeks she has helped me with my boys so much and I'm starting to worry that the front office will require me to have written permission from her to get my kids as there may be some confusion as to who their mom is! 

My doctor called me back and admitted that this didn't seem to be the normal course of events, but he still felt that the chances of something life threatening were very very slim considering how well things had been progressing. We have been wracking up some pretty impressive medical bills through this, and so we decided to try and get an appointment with one of the doctors at the practice I go to instead of heading into the ER yet again. As I was waiting for a return call to schedule an appointment, I felt like something was really really wrong. I couldn't think clearly at all, and yes I know most of you know me well enough to know that this in itself is not cause for immediate concern. Along with the cloudy mental state, I was finding it harder and harder to hang into consciousness. I was dry heaving and didn't have the strength to hold my head up. 

I was scared about the fact that my two and three year old were alone with me in the house, and that fear prompted me to call my husband telling him he needed to get home now! Knowing he had a 30 minute drive from work, I called 911 after talking to him.

Things get really hazy and I don't remember much after that. The paramedics arrived and started asking me questions. I had extreme pressure in my lungs and shoulders and it hurt to breathe and even more to talk. I knew I should be answering their questions, but I couldn't; I struggled to even understand exactly what they were asking me. 

I was put into the ambulance and at one point I wanted to point out that I was leaving my home without shoes, but didn't have the strength to do it. I don't really remember the ride to the hospital. I know one of the paramedics told me I needed to keep breathing or he was going to put a tube down my throat.

At the hospital there were a lot of people who were moving me and any movement caused excruciating pain. I started crying and thought it odd that the nurse was glad that I was crying; I think she was glad I was somewhat responsive.

I was left alone for I don't know how long, but it was a blessed relief to lay still and sleep. After several bags of fluids through my IV I was much more aware of what was going on around me. Kevin came, but had to go get the rest of the kids from school so my friend Amanda came to be with me. 

One time when I was alone in my room my nurse told me that on the way to the hospital my blood pressure was so low, they couldn't get the machine to even read it and that I was very very lucky.

I had an ultrasound where the technician told me that my tube had indeed ruptured and that there was to much blood in my abdomen to even measure it. 

People filled my room and I was poked a lot as I was readied for surgery. My doctor warned me that because of how messy the ultrasound looked, he would probably have to open me up instead if doing the procedure laparoscopically. I signed a consent for a blood transfusion. Just before they wheeled me out of the room to the OR, the most beautiful faces walked in the door. Four little boys and the man who had loved me enough to create them with me. They were drenched from the pouring rain outside. They were all scared. I got several kisses that had snot mixed in with them and my husband squeezed my neck and whispered he loved me. And I knew I would never ever give up fighting for just one more day with these amazing souls that were my life!
My kids went home with our babysitters family.This family has taken our boys every time we end up in the hospital. Whats so impressive about this is that they have 8 children of their own. They have kept my boys over night and taken them to church and taken them out to a restaurant. The father of this amazing family was asked when they were out with 12 kids if they were all theirs. He exclaimed "Oh no! we only have 8!" They are an incredible incredible family and we love them so much!

Surgery is so weird because one minute your chatting and talking and perfectly coherent and the next they are telling you to wake up. There's really no in between, no dreams or even time to freak out that you are going to be cut open!

My doctor told me that they hadn't had to open me up, that they had done it all laporoscopically, that my hematocrit and other levels were even better than his was and that amazingly he had even managed to save the tube! He has suctioned a liter of blood out of my abdomen, and I could go home that night.

The nurses were talking while I was waking up. They were talking about how crazy it was that I was doing so well after how bad I was in the beginning.

There are lots of times I wonder if a God who is the creator of the universe, who oversees wars and starving people and planets and oceans really does know or care about the details of my little insignificant life. I was blown away by the confirmation that indeed He does as I listened to those nurses go over numbers several times.

I'm home now. My husband is Mr. Mom yet again. He can't believe how much laundry this family creates in only three days, he's baffled by how much a 28 pound little kid can poop, and he sits in our boys' room at night talking to them about how it's ok to be scared sometimes, and that they can always talk to him when they are.

And I'm still caught up in the wonder of how incredible God's love is for little insignificant me!

Jesus Loves Me This I Know

I have a confession. I write a lot of blogs that I never publish. This was originally one of those blogs. 

I have always found writing to be highly cathartic. Even as a kid, my mom made me mad, I was writing about it! A boy I had a crush on didn't even know I existed and there would be a letter, a journal entry or a short story about it. I have always loved to write. 

The past couple of weeks, I have found amazing comfort and camaraderie in blogs that have shared life's painful and messy moments. I have spent a lot of time reading them and thanking the writers for them. They have been healing, full of very good ideas on navigating life and a sweet realization that I am not alone.

So be aware. This blog is messy, it is raw, it is me where I am at right now and that spot is broken and bleeding and full of emotion, but I am sharing in hopes that it might offer another broken heart the comforting knowledge of knowing you are not alone!

A little less than two years ago I was tried, convicted and condemned by some self appointed judges. I was deemed unworthy and sentenced to punishment until I got my act together and followed the guidelines that these self appointed judges had set for me. I spent 6 months incredible angry and bitter. I was angry because I knew that these judges were just as guilty as I was and just as deserving of condemnation and sentencing. I was angry because it confirmed the belief of God that I had held all my life that I wasn't good enough, and no matter how hard I tried I would never be good enough. I was hurting and facing rejection like I had my whole life, and I was done. 

I spent months thinking that if I could just convince people that these judges were not the perfect example of goodness and righteousness that they tried to project, that I would feel better. Amazingly it was not hard at all to uncover their facade. The more people I shared their rap sheet with, the more agreed that they were indeed grimy and mean. Startlingly enough this didn't make the hurt and anger go away; didn't even lessen it. One day a very wise woman looked at me and said, "Shelly, why are you wearing yourself out working so hard to accomplish a job that they have already accomplished?" In appointing themselves my judge and carrying out sentencing, they were allowing their true controlling nature to shine through all on their own! 

This bugged me, because that meant that my efforts to share their shortcomings with the world was doing the same for me. I was effectively letting my true colors out to play as well.       

Around this time I experienced a life altering trip to the Dominican Republic in which I experienced God's whole, pure, and unconditional love in a way that I never had. I began to entertain the belief that I was perhaps loved and accepted just the way I was. In that realization, tiny little pieces of my heart began to experience sweet sweet healing.  

Then we moved to Florida. This was yet another huge adjustment and I struggled with other insecurities and beliefs that I had drug around with me my whole life. But I came across a verse last summer that messed me up. I John 4:16. "God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them." 

So I started reading the love chapter over and over. What was love?? Love is patient, kind, it does not dishonor others, It keeps no record of wrong, it always protects and hopes and never gives up!

Romans 8:1 completed the verses that totally shook up my view of God. "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." 

So love and condemnation couldn't co-exist. And without love, I was without God.

Suddenly everything I had believed about who God was, cracked. I either had to believe my Bible or myself. God couldn't be a judging, condemning God waiting to dole out punishment at the slightest wrong doing, and be good, kind and accepting of  me right now. Without any requirements of change or certain behavior. 

God showed me this summer that I had two options. I could let people be my god. People would be condemning. They would be quick to point out wrongdoings and they would execute strict and swift punishment for failure to follow their rules. They would be imperfect.They would have a plan for my life, but that plan would be influenced by hurt, failures, and past experiences. If I chose to make God my god then I would get to experience true and complete acceptance. Right now, not down the road when I got my act together. His plan was huge and pure and full of only the best; unhindered by fear or pain. He was perfect!

Slowly I let go of the rap sheets I had been clinging to so ardently. Theirs and mine. I accepted myself and them as broken, hurting, yet incredibly loved and accepted beings created by an amazingly perfect and wonderful creator. 

I wish I could say that this is now how I live, but sometimes I find myself going back to that "courtroom" full of accusations and sentences directed at myself and my accusers. But God just smiles at me and reminds me when I feel frustrated at finding myself there yet again, that if I was able to live completely free of failures, I would have no need for him anymore. 

And today I can wholeheartedly say I am so so incredibly thankful for the pain I experienced almost two years ago.  Without it, my belief in God wouldn't have been shaken up and I wouldn't have had to choose between the truth and lies that I believed. I wouldn't have discovered the awesome love of my creator. I wouldn't have the strength that these last two months have required from me in a way that has never been required before. 

In escaping the prison of self doubt and the shackles of failure, I was able to revisit the dreams that God had placed in my heart from the time he made me. I had lived with the belief that I wasn't worthy of these dreams; didn't deserve them, but shaking up my beliefs in who I was in Christ brought me back to those deep desires.

As a kid, I dreamed of a huge family. I wanted tons of kids! At one point I even wanted to run an orphanage. Then I was told I wouldn't have children.

Amazingly I overcame infertility and conceived and delivered 4 healthy and huge baby boys. But I delivered them by C-section, once again putting limitations on the number of children I could have.

My grandpa is a father to 8 and he often jokes with me that maybe I'll be the next one in the family to have 8. My husband gets itchy and starts choking when he hears that, and that's probably why grandpa likes to say that more than anything. 

After I announced a 4th pregnancy I experienced the incredulity of others and the notion of 4 or more kids being grounds for ridicule and harsh opinions from others. It was yet another obstacle in achieving my dream of a large family.

This summer, however, I was able to talk my husband into the possibility of having another one. It was not without its struggles. We tried for a while and had to take medications and it was a discouraging walk at times. I wrestled really hard with the belief that I wasn't worthy or deserving of my dreams.

January 14th we finally got that positive that we had been praying so hard for, and looked forward to a September baby. We were so excited! That excitement was short lived as we walked through a week of bleeding and tests. We were told at the end of that week that the baby was fine. Levels were increasing and we would schedule an ultrasound to find where the bleeding was coming from. That weekend the bleeding increased and we were sent to the Emergency room. We were told that levels were no longer increasing like they should and that we had lost the baby. Two days later we got an urgent call from our doctor saying that the levels were again increasing and we needed to come in immediately. An ultrasound confirmed an ectopic pregnancy. We received a shot the next day to terminate the growing placenta, having been told that the baby's heart was no longer beating. The next weekend we were patients in the ER yet again, as the pain became excruciating. Levels at that point were slowly coming down and so we held off on surgery. Levels have continued to decrease and the doctor is very pleased that we avoided surgery.The fear and the pain dominated our lives, and we had no choice but to put all of our trust in a Father who has not promised to keep heartache from our lives, but has promised to never leave us. And as we cried and yelled and laid awake at night, the constant feeling of our hand cradled lovingly and firmly in that Fathers hand reminded us of that promise.

I write about my story, not to get your pity, but to share the valleys along with my mountaintops. I write my story not to dwell on the disappointment, but to share the hope that God has poured out on me these last several weeks. I write my story not to acquire accolades, but to reveal the glory of God even through pain.

I have been reminded so much over the last 18 months that what hate intended for evil, God has used for good, and I am so thankful. Knowing that God cared enough about me to use an incredibly painful time in my life to unveil the beauty and consistence of his love, for a time that I would need it most, brings tears to my eyes every time I think of it, and overwhelms me with gratitude!

I know my God could have prevented this. I know my God could have kept me from the pain I experienced 18 months ago, but I know that my God loved me enough and has such a perfectly good plan for my future, that EVERYTHING works for my good! He wasn't afraid to walk the valleys with me to get to the mountaintop!

I grieve for my sweet little one, but at the same time I look forward with anticipation to the day I will hold my baby and kiss my baby and say I love you to my baby. I have no doubt that a little Wilson is sitting patiently in heaven waiting to meet their loud crazy family!

And I know that there is no way I could have survived this time without the incredible strength and compassion of a daddy who loves me so completely and perfectly!

Life is precious, cherished, no matter how many failures it has under its belt; no matter how many weeks of life it has experienced. My life was created with a purpose and my baby's life was created with a purpose; YOUR life was created with a purpose, and that's AWESOME!

Happy New Year!

Hello world! Its me, Shelly! Its been a little while since I got on here, but I am hoping to do better this year! I am also hoping to lose the 5 pounds I resolved to lose last year along with the extra 5 I inadvertently added. 

Every year I make a few resolutions, but only so I don't feel so left out. All my friends have these amazing and inspirational goals for the year. i.e I resolve to get debt free (people do that???!?)I resolve to learn Spanish (I learned my numbers from Handy Many, does that count??) I resolve to travel to a place I have never been before (Does a new grocery store because my kids got us kicked out of our regular one count??) I resolve to get in shape. (Which shape? Does egg shape count?) I resolve to help all  the homeless dogs find a family, wipe out racism and save the whales.  (I give up!)

So this year I thought about what I wanted to make my resolutions. I had decided in early December that I wanted to stop yelling. (I know you all are shocked, that I yell right? at least pretend you are.) I fell asleep at 10pm on December 31st. At exactly 12:00 an impressive amount of fireworks were shot off in very close proximity to my house. I sat up and yelled: "what the heck!!!" Seriously?? Not even a minute in and I dropped the ball on my resolution?? Well then the next morning my kids got up and started fighting about who got to brush their teeth first and blue gooey toothpaste was squirted all over the mirror and I realized I had definitely overestimated myself and maybe I needed to get some more realistic resolutions! Maybe something like don't lose your voice from yelling more than once (or twice) a week! After all the in-laws are coming to visit in a few weeks!

January 1st I found myself handing out resolutions to my kids. Heck if I couldn't do it, at least I could be a helper for others right? Isn't there a verse about encouraging others to do good in the Bible?? I told Micah that his New Years Resolution was to be more encouraging to other people. He responded, "I would if they weren't so bad at stuff!" I told Kyler that his was to stop being so negative. After a lengthy conversation in which I tried at least 20 different ways of explaining the definition of negative to my son, we switched his to not tattling so much. The kid is currently down to 1,233 tattles a day! He's rocking this resolution thing!! Caleb acquired the resolution to stop screaming. He dropped to the floor yesterday screaming at the top of his lungs. He caught my stern eye, stopped mid scream and said "never mind" before sulking away. I gave Liam the resolution to cut back on the stubbornness, but my little over acheiver had already set his own resolution and it was, "win. every. time." I thought my husband was the most stubborn person I knew (aside from his mother of course) but Liam has never been OK with being second best.

I am pondering another resolution though. (I know I kind of missed that January 1st thing) I thought about all the people I admire. There is a couple in Tennessee (you know who you are!) whom I admire greatly. They are best friends, an incredible blessing to their kids and grand kids, and they are always happy! When unexpected things happen to them, they always seem to find the good, the happy and the funny about it! They take time to have fun together, never seeming to worry about what anyone else is thinking. The never seem worried about making sure people give them the credit or know they are right, instead they spend their energy building other people up. They enjoy life more than anyone I know!

So this year instead of focusing on all the people who have made my life difficult and feeling bitter about it, I'll let it go! I think I'll find time to think about the happy, look for the good, and stop to laugh every day!  After all the Bible says to think about excellent and praiseworthy things; perhaps there's something to that! And perhaps I'll give Kevin a New Year's Resolution to buy his wife more diamonds this year. That's excellent right??

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!