In the Palm of His Hand

So, yesterday was interesting, to say the least. Our church had a pool party in town to celebrate a great week of Vacation Bible School. I was in the baby pool with Lydia and Isaac when I noticed several raised bumps on Lydia's torso. She wasn't crying, and at first I thought maybe a mosquito bit her several times. Then I noticed an obvious sting mark on her wrist, and knew she was reacting to either a bee or wasp. I gave her Benadryl, but it didn't seem to make a difference.Within minutes the hives became bigger on her chest and side, and her lips started to swell. That's when I completely broke down and lost it. I couldn't hold the tears in as the fear overtook me, and I began sobbing. God is so gracious in His care, and I don't think it was an accident that I was surrounded by loving friends who took over for me. One called 911, while others took care of my other three children. Paramedics were there almost immediately, and my heart soon calmed down. Lydia was visibly shaken and scared, and her usually mild tremors were obviously worse. I tried my best to put on a happy face for her, and stopped my own tears. While in the ambulance, peace came over me. I felt the prayers of friends, and I was able to smile and talk to Lydia while helping her stay calm.

To make a long story short, it took two (maybe three, I can't remember clearly) doses of epinephrine, two to three doses of Benadryl, and steroids to bring her back to normal. At no time was her breathing ever compromised. HUGE praise. We went home that night.


I've struggled today to remind myself who's in control. I wish I could keep her indoors 24/7 where I can keep her safe. That's not faith though. That's just wild and uncontrolled fear. I am learning to let go and leave it in His hands. Again.  


Part of me is sad. Lots of tears. Another part is angry at one more way our daughter could possibly die.
As if food, air, and brain function weren't enough methods.


In the weeks leading up to Lydia's recent food allergy testing, I prayed so hard for all of her allergies to be taken away. Part of my prayer was that if it wasn't in His plan to completely heal her, that He would at least remove the shellfish allergy. Random, but that was my prayer. Guess what allergy she no longer has? Her dairy and peanut allergies were even worse, and she has a new allergy to melons, but tears welled up in my eyes when I heard about the shellfish, because I knew He had heard me. It was as if I literally felt Him hold me in that moment, and remind me of His care for both me and Lydia. 


We'll get through this. In the palm of His hand. 

Never Too Early

Even though Bill and I are made for each other, there is one big difference between us. I like to be early to everything, and if I arrive right on time, I consider myself to be late. Bill, on the other hand, can consider anything up to 15 minutes or more late to be in the realm of "on time". It doesn't drive me as crazy as when we were first married, but I still like to be early to anything. So it's no surprise that I was very early to an event last night. Madeline's preschool teacher from last year was launching her Premier Jewelry business, and I wanted to take Madeline to her launch party with me to spend some time with her. She lives in town about twenty minutes from our house, so Bill came home in time to watch the younger kids while Madeline and I went by ourselves. I was excited to have a night out with Madeline, and to look at jewelry. I was also happy to see her teacher Mrs. H, since it had been several weeks since I had talked to her- we never saw each other apart from school.

Madeline and I set off a bit late due to a bad thunderstorm. I knew we would arrive a few minutes late, but I still wanted to go. Once in town, I got lost on the side streets, and had to call Mrs. H to ask her about directions.  I felt terrible because it was already a half hour past when the party was to start. That's when she said, "Michelle- the party is NEXT Monday." I wasn't late. I was early. REALLY early. Seven whole days early. I was immediately frustrated with myself. But right away, she asked if I wanted to come over anyway. Normally, I would say- Of course not, I don't want to impose. Especially because I didn't "hang out" with her regularly, and would have felt awkward just coming over unplanned like that. But there is something about Lisa that puts me at ease. (She told me not to call her Mrs. H because that would be wierd- thank goodness, because yes- it did feel wierd.)  She's funny, easy to talk to, and I was excited for some girl talk. So after getting lost only twice more, I finally found her house. (I only drove past it three times before finding it.) I stayed for a couple hours and chatted away while Madeline played with her two children upstairs. She is so easy to talk to, the time flew by. When I was leaving, Lisa mentioned that she misses the days when people could just drop in at someone's house. I agreed with her. Bill and I are close friends with our neighbors across the street from us, and we stop over at each other's homes just about every day. I don't feel wierd rummaging through her kitchen, or running over to borrow a couple eggs to make dinner. It should happen more often between friends.

So Lisa, thanks again for having me over. I had a blast- I would love to hang out with you more. I'll see you next Monday!

Heaven-Sent Peace

On the way home from a long road trip a couple years ago, after Bill had the first chance to meet my best friend Amy and her family, he said to me, "Now I get it. You and Amy, I get it now." When I asked him what he meant, he said, "Well, you've always talked so much about her, about how much you like her and look up to her, but I always assumed it was rather one-sided. I'd never met two friends who felt that strongly about each other, but after meeting her and seeing you two together, it's obvious you two mutually have one of the strongest friendships I've ever seen. It was neat."

Amy and I are two peas in a pod, ever since we were 12 and 13 years old. We lost contact with each other not long after graduating high school, but I never forgot about her. When someone would ask me who my best friend was, she would come to mind, even though I hadn't seen or spoken to her in years. Then, in May 2008, we reconnected on facebook. My close friend Stephanie had been (lovingly) nagging me to join the social network, and I finally caved. I had recently found out through my parents that Amy's mom had just passed away from breast cancer, and I looked Amy up on facebook. Tears fell down my cheeks as I imagined the pain that Amy must be feeling, but didn't know what words to say. I sent her a facebook message telling how truly sorry I was for her loss, and that her mother was a beautiful woman, wife, and mother. Deep inside I wondered if she would be mad at me for losing contact with her, and that I hadn't been with her through that difficult part of her life.

Within a few months, I bought a plane ticket and flew several states away to see Amy and meet her family. By this point we had been chatting away every day on the phone, but I was so very nervous to see her. I still felt deep inside that she must be mad at me, at least a little bit, for losing contact with her all those years. But the second I saw her standing in the airport with her boys, I just wanted to run and hug her. It was as if no time had passed. That kind of friendship is rare, and I recognized that even more deeply that day. We have continued to talk and giggle nonstop, and it feels like eternity if we go more than two days without talking for at least a couple of minutes.

A few weeks ago, Amy called me (surprise!) and told me this: When her mom was alive, she was her best friend. She was someone Amy could pick up the phone and call several times a day, even if it was just for a one or two minute conversation. When her mom died, Amy lost her best friend as well as her mother. Then, God reunited her with me. Amy said, " God brought me you. He gave me peace." She said that when she told this to her husband Stephen, he said, "You should fly and go see her." By this point I was crying, and said, "Yes! Come see me!" So just this past week, Amy and her wonderful traveling companion - one year old Audrey- flew in to spend a few days at my house. Amy was in the mood to shop while here, and I definitely wasn't going to complain about that. We even found a neat little shabby chic boutique downtown, and if Amy didn't have to ship her purchases back home through the mail, I think she may have bought up the entire store. :)

Her trip to my house also happened to correspond with the anniversary of her mother's death. (Stephen didn't plan this when booking the trip- it just worked out that way in God's divine plan.) Amy and I spent that day shopping and laughing, a departure from how she had spent that particular day in the past couple of years. Aside from a few tears, I think she was able to be happy that day, and I am so glad for her. I know her mom would be too. Amy and Audrey just left for home yesterday, and already, my house feels empty.

I am so thankful that God brought Amy into my life- twice. Aside from my husband, she knows me better than anyone else, and I can tell her anything- I trust her implicitly. I love you, girl! Talk to you tomorrow.

Capturing a Miracle

With the addition of each new child of mine, taking a family picture over the past five years has become increasingly difficult. I've come to the point that if there are four warm bodies in the shot, whether there's one or more turned completely around, or crying, or picking a nose, or making a pirate face, it is considered a success. Which is why, during a visit with my close friend Stephanie, we were shocked when I managed to take this beautiful photograph of all six of our children- on the first try.

Have you ever seen any more beautiful children than these cuties?

Stephanie is most likely coming to visit me next week, so I'm excited for another day to spend with her and watch our kids play together. There seems to a budding romance between our two eldest children- it was so cute to watch. Take a peak here on Stephanie's blog to see what I mean.

Oh, and this is completely off the subject, but another thing that happened that day- Stephanie got me thinking about converting to organic milk. I made my first switch purchase this evening, but want some more solid scientific evidence before I permanently adjust to the new milk price tag.

Love you Steph!! You are an amazing friend and even more amazing mother. Plus- you can bake a pretty awesome cupcake. Can't wait to see you next week!

Sports Fanatics

Amy and I have a long history together. We've talked on the phone for approximately 1/5 of our lives, passed fascinating notes back and forth between classes, giggled until we've peed our pants (seriously; it just happened again today), and shared a strong passion for sports. It all started one year at the beach when we were teenagers. Amy didn't know how to swim, and though not professionally trained, I thought I would try to teach her. By the end of the week, she was able to stand in the four foot deep section without drowning. Here's my favorite picture of all that we accomplished that week.

Notice the quick reflexes to block any water from touching her face.

After high school, I decided to expand my love of sports to cross country. Not only did I find my future husband from the team, I was also able to earn $1000 in an athletic scholarship that year.

 

Look at that long, graceful stride. I'm so fast that those women in the background look like they are standing still.

After the season was over, I decided to take a well deserved break from sports for the next several years. Then this past March, while on a visit to Amy's house in Alabama, the two of us rediscovered our love of all things athletic. We were having so much fun, we had her husband Stephen document our skills.

We started the night with a little baseball.

I think I could have been a star quarterback if girls were allowed to play in school.

Amy has a dunk shot like no one else I know.

Wearing flip flops adds to the challenge. Seriously, try kicking a soccer ball in those shoes. It takes skills.

 I can't remember if there was any peeing in the pants in this moment. Safe guess says there was.

I love you, Amy. (Hopefully after this post, you still love me too.) I can't wait until next month when we get to share our love of all things athletic again. Let's hit up the local swimming pool; maybe we can find a professional to share his skills with us.