It's All Gonna Be Okay

Now that we have a nice, long surgery break (fingers and toes crossed) it's time to start looking into therapy for Caroline. We are currently in the middle of the evaluation process. It's a strange thing watching your child be evaluated for therapy. On one hand, you know she needs it but on the other you feel a bit of resentment at the thought of someone judging your child. Hello? She's obviously perfect, but yeah we need help. The thing is I know Caroline is delayed- and with all of her surgeries, hospitalizations, and anomalies, she has good reason to be. I also know that I need help teaching her. The first session didn't go so well, meaning that Caroline screamed at her for the first hour. Eventually, she did warm up to the stranger enough to allow her to sit on her play mat, but not too close. I apologized and said, "she just really doesn't like people." After all, most of the time when she meets someone new it is either a doctor or a nurse. I actually found myself apologizing a lot through out the session. I have this aggravating desire to please people. I really want you to like me. I want you to like my child. I want you to approve of me and my parenting. I want to pass all of your tests. Then the other side of Katie says, "don't you dare judge me or my baby." Isn't my mind a scary place? At the slightest frown or furrowed brow of the therapist, my iron wall of defense is up. I knew the first session would be difficult. I had tried to prepare myself for the worst, but it doesn't ease the worries that creep into your mind or the aches your mama heart feels at the sight of real tears rolling down your baby's cheeks. Thankfully, the next therapy evaluation was a success. Not so much because Caroline "passed" her tests, but rather that she passed Caroline's. Although she started out by clinging onto me for dear life, in no time at all she was sitting by the therapist and reaching for her. I thought I might feel a twinge of sadness at Caroline reaching for a stranger, but I didn't. I felt a little hope begin to rise. Hope that she wouldn't always be afraid of people. Hope that she would develop physically, mentally, and socially.

A little hope is empowering. Hope can grow in dark places if you let it, but the thing I have learned is that for hope to grow, I can't focus on the worries and aches. I can't think of the "what-ifs" I have to focus on the "but-hopefullys." Our doctors always told us with Caroline to "hope for the best but prepare for the worst." We soon learned that was an impossible task. Once you start preparing for the worst, it takes us all the place in your heart for any hope.

My dad is a hope-filled person. He is my biggest champion. Remember my Clairee told me to marry a man like my dad? That's because those kind-hearted, soft-spoken, gentle men make the very best husbands and dads. Ever since I was little, my dad was the one I went to when something was wrong. He'd say "have you been cryin'?" and he would take all the time it took to listen and sort out the problem. Then he would say "it's all gonna be okay." That is my dad's mantra. To this day, when any of us has a problem, big or small, we go to Dad. I still need to hear him say, "it's all gonna be okay." Even in those scariest times when I really didn't know if it would be okay, my dad would say it and I would believe it. I truly believe I got the very best dad, I'm sorry. I know most people feel that way, but I really did get the best.

Our family is dealing with some hard stuff right now. We are numb with sadness. Thursday evening when Josh told me the sad news, I began crying and then Caroline saw me and started crying, too. Although that doesn't sound very positive, her therapist assured me she is ahead developmentally in that aspect. She said the most important things we can teach our children are compassion and empathy. She explained if they aren't learned by age 6, then they are never truly learned. So, there you go, even in the midst of grief, He allows a little light to shine through. Last night, I asked the Father, "how do I know it's all gonna be okay?"

"And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as His adopted children, including the new bodies He has promised us. We were given this hope when we were saved…
Can anything ever separate us from Christ's love? Does it mean He no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ who loved us."
~ Romans 8: 23-24, 35, 37

I know it's all gonna be okay because of this simple truth- Jesus saved me from the very worst. As a Christian, I don't have to prepare for the worst, only wait with eager hope for the very best.

Life Lessons from Miss Annette

After graduating from college, the next step to becoming a registered dietitian is completing an internship. As a dietetics intern, you are at just about the lowest level of anyone in the entire medical facility- way below medical students. You may feel excited and slightly important in those dress clothes and white coat, but then you actually have to navigate your way from the critical care unit to the oncology floor, and you start to doubt your abilities and knowledge. Then, you make your way to the right place and the unit clerk glances up at the white coat, scans her eyes up and down you, and sees the "intern" badge and your feeling of inferiority is confirmed by the audible sigh and bored look on her face. This was my first run in with "Annette." As the weeks went by, I came to appreciate her, and in turn, I believe she became less annoyed by my presence. I learned it was she who held the power- the charts- and in order to obtain a chart, you had to know how to approach her. There were unspoken rules. Whenever an arrogant med student disrupted the order of procedure by assuming he would just grab a chart off of her desk (preposterous idea), Annette would close her eyes tightly and say in a stage whisper, "Jaysus gimme stremph!" If someone committed a more serious offense, she wouldn't bother with whispering- she wanted you to know you were wrong and that you better pray for divine intervention also before she whooped you. She wore her hair in a tight bun on top of her head, and when she got really mad, she would get to trembling and you could see that shiny, black bun start to shake- that's when you knew to take cover. As unit clerk, she was responsible for answering the patient call lights, so I am sure you can imagine how exhausting that can become after 12 hours. This is just one of many unpleasant calls from unsatisfied customers.

(Buzz) Miss Anette: Yes, Mister Smith
Mr. Smith: My tv ain't working
Miss Annette: Mmm-hmm, somebody be in there soon, Sugar
Mr. Smith: I been waiting for an hour now! What the ---- is going on? I am so sick of this ---- place and you ---- people.
Miss Annette: (trembling) Sweet Lord Jaysus gimme stremph!

Good thing for those patients that the Sweet Lord always came through for her because, as far as I know, she never did whoop anybody. The past couple of weeks, I've been dealing with some anger issues myself. If you spend anytime at all on social media, you are probably bombarded with negativity. While it's true there is an abundance of bad news these days, we often forget to focus on the good news. In this age of social media, we have become so accustomed to sharing our opinions on every topic under the sun. We say things that we would probably never say in-person, and to top it off, we have become so used to this that we believe everyone is dying to know our opinions. Like our "friends" (who we never see or actually talk to) are thinking, "oooh I wonder how Katie feels about…" To quote a sweet friend, "What must I think of myself?!" There are some topics that I am very passionate about, and I am proud of that; however, I am not always proud of the way I share my feelings. If I choose to harbor hate and anger and feed those emotions, that is what comes out through my words and actions. While I can still hate the offense, I could choose instead to harbor and feed my love for the solution. It doesn't feel very good to be on the receiving end of someone's opinion. There are times when people want to share their beliefs for what caused Caroline's special circumstances and at those times I would like to completely annihilate those people. As she gets older, I know Caroline will hear others' opinions and be placed in situations where she has to explain her history. While I want her to be knowledgable and eloquent, I also want her to be kind. It certainly doesn't help her if I am not modeling that kind of communication. I'm all for sharing beliefs and convictions, but I want to make an effort to speak the truth in love.

I need to think before I give my advice to a friend…
Is it even wanted?
Before I share my opinion…
Is it Right? "Well, yeah I'm always right…"
Is it Necessary? "Well, maybe not…"
Is it Kind? "No, I guess not…"

"And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." 
~ Philippians 4:8 

If I check my thoughts and words by those standards, often it is truly best for me to follow Miss Annette and close my eyes and whisper, "Jesus, give me strength."

Around here, when we feel overwhelmed, we sit on the porch and play with our bubble wand. Sometimes we blow bubbles and sometimes we wield it like a light saber- both good therapy.