Nursery

A few years after we were married, Ray and I wanted to start growing our family. Neither of us gave a thought to how many women struggle to get pregnant.  We quickly realized that this is a hardship that many women have to bear.  We prayed and prayed but we were still unable to have a child.

Now, years later, we know that if God had answered my prayers back then, it would have killed me because I was in heart failure and didn't know it.  Sometimes our limited view of the world makes us think we are being punished or forgotten, when in reality, God is doing what's best for us.

But even with that knowledge, it did not take away the heartache that I believe most women suffer from when they can't get pregnant.  This Easter as some of my sisters and their beautiful families hunted Easter eggs (thanks Grandma), I was struck by how blessed and precious their families are.  Not because they are perfect but because there is so much love and joy.  My heart ached for that bond my sisters have with their little ones (some of them are not that little).  Many of you women who cannot get pregnant must feel that same deep hurt in your heart.

This January, God orchestrated yet another change in our lives.  My heart function jumped very unexpectedly from 35% (where it had been for the past 2 years since my explant) to 47%; and my doctors finally agreed to approve us for adoption and foster care.

Because of that increase, our lives have started to take a new path that I thought God had closed the doors on.  For the past 6 weeks, Ray and I have been taking foster care classes to open our homes to some hurting children.  We feel like we have so much love to give, and although we had to abandon our thought of the perfect looking family, we know God is going to bring new life to our home.

So this week Ray and I did something I never thought we would:

We put our nursery together (modeled by my precious nephews) in anticipation of a new blessing.  GOD IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!

Red Dress Gala

A few months ago I was invited to speak at a "Red Dress Gala."  This event was a dinner and silent auction for a sorority to help raise funds and awareness for the American Heart Association.  I was asked to take a half hour during dinner to share my heart story with them and help raise awareness of the need for cardiac research.  (See Slideshow on left.)

 

 

The event was held at a hotel and was attended by around 400 people (mostly the sorority girls and their families and guests).  I have never felt so old. :-p  It started with a cocktail hour where everyone milled about and placed bids on various baskets that families had donated.  This hour of socialization reminded me how fun it can be to meet new people and to forget, if only for an hour, that anything exists outside of sipping drinks (water of course) and mingling with friends.  It made me realize that Ray and I haven't really attended a lot of social parties in the past few years.  Parties have a way of helping us leave our lives for a time and to embrace sheer silliness and fun.

As I got up to address the crowd (who still had not gotten dinner and were still heavily socializing), I was nervous that the "normal" world would look upon my story and pay it no attention because it did not affect them and most of them were in the prime of their lives.

To my dismay, the room settled down and my story seemed to have captured their attention.  This was my first time sharing my journey through heart failure with a crowd of "healthy" people.  I guess I forgot that I was "normal" once upon a time and that I was a "healthy" person trying to live life to its fullest.

Ray says that I am a naturally funny person without trying to be.  I don't think I have a huge sense of humor, but I have learned in life to take things in stride and to adapt to my surroundings.  These lessons helped carry me through some of my darkest days. 

At the end of my story, I was hoping for a polite round of appreciation and to melt back into my table for dinner.  I had spent many days praying that my words would help at least someone through their difficult times.  I was very humbled at the reception I received afterwards and the many people who told me that they will remember some of my lessons.  I guess I hadn't realized that people on the outside looking in have an entirely different perspective that allowed them to connect to my story. 

For the next hour, I was bombarded with college students and their families who each had a story to tell.  I was amazed at the depth and maturity of these girls that seemed to be soaking in life's lessons and learning from them.

That night changed me.  I was afraid and a little timid about sharing my story outside of the hospital realm.  I realized that I felt that way because I feel like my illness has taken so much away from me and who I am.  But that night I learned that I am still who I was, just stronger and although I am certain I will come across people who look down on me because of my illness, I am far more likely to encounter people who have their own story to tell.  Thank you to everyone who encouraged me that night.  I went into the event hoping to change your world just a little, and it turns out, you changed mine.